The Protector

by Cristin Harber

  “Which you have.” Chance gestured. “You gonna leave now?”

  Slowly, Camden set the stew can on the counter. “It’s interesting, ya know. I ask you about Jane. Then you tell me to take a hike.”

  “You need to get out more if you find that interesting.”

  “You like her, huh?”

  “Jesus, dude. Are you trying to get under my skin?”

  Camden flipped his hands up defensively. “No, jackass. I was trying to make fucking conversation, but I guess that isn’t going to fly.”

  Chance walked out of the kitchenette and settled onto the couch. He hunched over. His forearms rested on his legs, and his fingers steepled together under his chin. “She surprised me. That’s all.”

  Camden picked his can of stew off the counter and ambled over to the chair across the room. Chance used more as a coat rack than for company, and it was piled high with hoodies. Camden knocked the clothes to the ground, sat down and kicked back. “What are you going to do about it?”

  Chance looked up. “Her?”

  “Yeah. It. Her. Mary Poppins.” Camden’s forehead creased as though he’d been asked if an alien Santa lived on the sun. “What the hell else are we talking about?”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  Camden snorted. “Never would’ve taken you for a pussy.”

  Chance squinted and shook his head. “Are you only capable of conversing in streams of insults?”

  “Yeah. Got a problem with that?”

  Chance snorted and tried to remember that Camden was younger than all of them. He could hold his own and knew what to do—but he was still green and inexperienced. Chance had never seen himself as the older and wiser type. Mentoring a teammate never crossed his mind. But Mary Poppins had shown him that the unexpected had a way of making itself known. Even if Chance wasn’t a good mentor, he could push Camden in the right direction. “How old are you?”

  Camden straightened his shoulders, and the corners of his eyes tightened. “Fucking old enough.”

  From out of nowhere, one of his grandmother’s saying thundered to mind. Rudeness is a sign of insecurity. His amusement faded, and Chance met Camden’s hard, dark stare. They both had uncertainties, and Chance wouldn’t let those issues caused problems on their team. “Want another can of stew?”

  Uncertainty ticked in Camden’s jaw.

  “I could use another.” Even though Chance hadn’t finished the first can. He stood up without waiting for an answer and walked to the kitchenette, pulling out two new cans. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. All right.”

  Chance gave another can to Camden and decided that he would mentor the guy along in his time on Aces. Whether Camden knew it or not, he had a long way to go.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Their bullshit and bluster changed. Chance and Camden ate their beef stew breakfast and joked over the WARNING sign that had been taped to the war room door. Camden swore up and down that he hadn’t been the one to hang it up. Chance wasn’t sure he believed him, but it didn’t matter.

  After their breakfast of champs, Camden left. Chance felt as though he’d done a good deed for the day. Not only would a better partnership pay off in the field, but now he had another buddy to shoot the shit with.

  More importantly, chilling out with Camden forced his mind to focus on his current mission: finding Jane.

  Angela had been surprisingly less than helpful when he’d asked her for Jane’s room number. No matter. He was a determined man. If he’d have to sweet talk the hotel receptionist or canvas the building, he’d find her.

  Chance grabbed his phone and hustled down thirteen flights of stairs. He ducked through newly hung plastic tarp and exited their hotel. The overpowering sun hit him like a steamroller. The day would be nearly as hot as their jaunt through the desert, and he arranged for a car service as he walked to Jane’s hotel.

  The quick walk took far too long. Finally, he pushed through the opulent hotel entrance. A shower of cold air rolled over him as he ambled into the marbled lobby. The tiles beneath his feet probably cost more than his childhood home. He tried to ignore the excess. Gold on the walls. Gold inlaid on the floors. With every step, he saw excessive wealth, and Chance wondered how the world had strayed from the idea that simple could be exceptional.

  Like the woman he spotted across the lobby. Chance couldn’t see much beyond her long, red dress. But, as she faced the opposite direction, he couldn’t help but appreciate her elegant simplicity while sitting on an ornate bench.

  The woman on the backless bench kept his attention, even as she ducked from his gaze as she bent to the side to adjust her sandal. Chance stopped abruptly. The hairs on the back of his neck stood like a porcupine’s quills. The familiar sensation served him well on the job. But he wasn’t in danger. He was breathless and only beginning to understand why.

  The woman sat up, and her long blond hair draped over her covered shoulders. Though he couldn’t see her face, there wasn’t a question about who she was. Jane was the only person who’d ever made him react like he might not survive if he walked the other way.

  Chance savored the realization and took his time as he approached. Nerves tingled along his forearm. The corners of his lips curled in a way he couldn’t shake. She smoothed the flowing skirt over her legs and picked up a travel brochure from a pile by her side. He was close enough to see a photograph of Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque Center and then quietly, he sat down on his side of the bench, facing the opposite direction.

  Only her pile of tourist brochures separated them. Chance picked up the top flyer up and leaned toward Jane. “You can’t go to that mosque until later.”

  She twisted. Surprise lit her features in a way that did something painfully amazing to his chest. “Chance?”

  He grinned and flicked the brochure in his hand. “But this place is great, and it’s open now.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “Hi.”

  “Hey, MP.” He savored the way she fit against him, and he drew out the seconds it took to return her hug. Holding her was somehow exactly the same as he’d done in the desert. His protective, possessive instincts hummed in his chest. He inhaled, and his mouth watered. The scent of jasmine, rich and fragrant, reminded him of early fall, when the days were warm as summer but the nights crept in, early and cool. Now, it would remind him of her, too.

  They pulled apart and set down their tourist brochures.

  “Look at you,” she said with a nervous laugh. “You’re so… clean.”

  “Ha.” He’d been hoping for something like “handsome beyond reason,” but clean was fine—of course it was fine. Since when did he want to lean on a crutch of looks? “So are you.”

  “Clean is exactly what I was going for. But…” She looked down at the modest red dress and picked up the flowing skirt with a small shrug. “This isn’t exactly my usual style and color. But what can you do? My luggage is long gone.”

  “Sorry. We’re not big on rescuing luggage. Just people.”

  “I know.” She folded her hands and repositioned her legs, crossing them at the ankle. “I wasn’t complaining, and Angela had several options available in my closet. But they were so… bright.”

  “Why don’t you like bright?”

  “It’s so…” She raised her hands and threw her fingers out like they were fireworks. “Bright.” Jane laughed. “I much rather blend in.”

  He could appreciate that. “They taking good care of you?”

  “Yeah, of course. Angela’s amazing.”

  “Did you sleep all right?”

  “Eh.” She seesawed her hand. “I never sleep well in strange beds.”

  “Oh, yeah? But you slept pretty well in the desert.” He laughed.

  Her cheeks pinked. “That wasn’t really sleeping.”

  “It was. I remember.” Chance leaned close and dropped his voice. “There’s the possibility you might’ve snored.”

  She swatted his arm playfully. “Never.”


  He bumped his shoulder to hers. Jane hadn’t snored but damn he liked making her eyes go wide and her smile light. “Maybe even a little bit of drool.”

  “Absolutely not.” She rolled her eyes, blushing furiously.

  He leaned back, pretending to think back to their night together. It wasn’t a hard memory to search for. “All right. Maybe you didn’t snore or drool, but I saw you sleep.”

  Jane met his eye for a moment.

  I saw you sleep. They were both replaying what he had said. What a simple statement. Except it had been anything but simple.

  “No.” She glanced away with a self-deprecating laugh. “Not sleep. That’s what you’d call a full-body shutdown brought on by complete exhaustion and near-death experiences.” She brushed her hair off her shoulder, not meeting his gaze. “What about you? Sleep well?”

  He snapped. “Out like a light.”

  Jane tilted her head, and then she grinned as though she’d learned a secret.

  “What?”

  “I heard you were called to the principal’s office.”

  Chance chuckled and imagined Jared Westin as a high school principal, ruler in hand and glowering from behind a desk. “Something like that.”

  “What happened?”

  He waved her concern away. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “If you say so.” She swept a lock of blond hair off her face and twirled it around her finger. “Hey—did you know that the Thanes left?”

  “Not initially.”

  Her forehead furrowed as though he’d answered incorrectly. “Really?”

  Chance lifted a shoulder. “Angela mentioned it today when I gave her a quick call. Why?”

  Jane studied him and then ducked her chin. “I don’t know. I’m just surprised they left me here, high and dry. Sort of sucks.”

  Well, hell. Here he was, ready to make plans without considering that she didn’t want to be in Abu Dhabi. “Sorry about that.”

  “No, it’s a good reminder. I work for them. I’m not family.” Her bitter tone matched the way she thinned her lips. It was as though she didn’t want to care but couldn't help it.

  Perhaps a date wasn’t in the cards. He’d still help her out. “I can help you get back home if Angela wasn’t able—”

  “Oh, no. She could, and I appreciate that.” Jane took a quick breath. “But I decided it might be good to let Gigi fend for herself while I take a mini vacation at their expense.”

  “Yeah. They owe you that much.” He tapped the pile of travel brochures. “What’s on your agenda?”

  “No idea. I’m an Abu Dhabi virgin. I haven’t been anywhere outside of the United States, really.”

  Lord help him. His body jerked to life at the word virgin like he was a kid in the midst of puberty. Chance shifted and cleared his throat. “You should see the sights.” And, he should ask her to go with him. What the fuck was wrong with him? “With me,” he tacked on.

  Mission somewhat accomplished. Not an articulate invitation. But, apparently, the best he could manage.

  Jane curled her fingers into her skirt, fidgeting. “You don’t have to be my tour guide.”

  There was literally nothing he would rather do. “Jane.” Chance laid his hand over hers, again feeling his body react explosively. “Spend the day with me.”

  She blinked as though she didn’t understand his offer. “Are you sure?”

  Why was this so hard? Had anyone ever turned him down? No. Chance stood on her side of the bench and pulled her to her feet. He kept his hand over hers. There wasn’t any space between. In his mind, there wasn’t any question as to where he wanted to be or with who he wanted to be with. “Do you need to get anything before we head out?”

  Jane shook her head.

  Green light. Their day together was a go. “Let’s go see what we can get into.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Jane tried to accept that her day couldn’t get much better if she’d planned it. True, her thoughts had meandered with wistful dreams about drinks with Chance. But this was absolutely surreal. He had his hand at the small of her back, guiding her out the hotel. They didn’t seem to have a plan, yet she had a feeling he was never without one.

  They stopped to let an elderly couple walk ahead of them. It gave Jane a minute to take in all that was Chance Evans. It was as though the sun cast a spotlight on him. His stormy blue eyes sparkled. The desert had left his skin golden and tan, and his trim, sun-lightened hair gave him clean-cut glint to his military-hardened edge.

  Hands down, he was the most attractive man she’d ever met. Maybe she’d known that before, and her survival-mode brain had merely categorized him as hot. But, oh no. He was leaps and bounds beyond hot.

  Now that Chance was well-rested and wearing a nice shirt and jeans, there wasn’t a question. Jane wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been a model in a previous life. Not the kind of model that walked runways, but the models who reigned king of the perfume commercials. The kind where he would lay on a beach and let waves crash over his sculpted stomach and thighs—and, now she was a first-class pervert.

  In a way, the perverted title fit, given her blistered and burned ogre-like appearance. Couldn’t he see how she looked? Or, had the bright dress done the impossible and allowed Jane’s damaged skin to blend into the fiery red fabric?

  “Here we go.” Chance led her to a waiting sedan.

  “You ordered a car?”

  “It’s hotter than hell and I don’t want to worry about parking.”

  Pragmatic. But when had he done that? She let him help her into the car and realized that he’d planned the car service before they talked. What did that mean?

  The sedan whisked them into the fast-paced stream of traffic. Jane gawked out the window. Exotic cars and pristine landscaping. She lived with one of the richest families in the world, but they didn’t live like this. The streets gleamed. Locals and tourists alike seemed as gorgeous as their possessions on display. Jewelry and designer brands met the eye as far as she could see. Everything—and everyone—shined. No wonder Chance lived in Abu Dhabi. Here, he was amongst his fellow beautiful people.

  The sedan pulled over. Chance opened the door before the driver had the opportunity.

  “Where are we?”

  “The carpet souk.” He spoke briefly to their driver then led her into the market.

  They were swept into the crowd. Vibrant colors dazzled them from every direction. Displays of rugs, prayer mats, and cushions mapped any and every color. They were chaotically stacked, shelved, and sold. Jane watched in rapt fascination as storekeepers and customers haggled. She eavesdropped on conversations in languages she didn’t know but could still understand through tone and gestures. “This is amazing.”

  Chance’s hand rested on her lower back. Occasionally, his fingers gave a quick squeeze as they threaded through the crowd. They pointed to interesting patterns that caught their attention. Chance liked ones that were simple. As for what she liked? After canvassing rows in the marketplace, Jane still didn’t have a clue what she liked best. But she’d never had more fun figuring that out. It was almost as though she were learning her own taste as they went.

  The sedan waited for them as they stepped out of the far side of the carpet souk.

  “Want to do that again?” he asked.

  Jane laughed. “I’m not sure how many more carpets I can look at.”

  His grin danced. “How about something almost the same but different?”

  “Why not!”

  Their driver took them to the next spot—a gold souk—and then to a souk that sold bolts of fabric. Both were identical and completely different than the carpet souk. Jane tried on gold bangles and rings and couldn’t stop laughing when Chance swathed himself in gold necklaces. They wrapped brilliant fabrics around themselves and then each other.

  By the time they left the fabric souk, incense clung to their clothes and scented their hair. Jane had let loose and forgot how she looked—and may
be more importantly, how beautiful he looked. They played. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened with an adult. And, maybe, they’d flirted? They’d certainly touched a lot. Though every touch had a reason; he adjusted a pashmina on her shoulders, or she wrapped dark, exquisite silks over his shoulders, around his torso.

  Their sedan awaited them again. Chance opened the door and then settled into the back seat after her. She stayed close to him and dropped her head against his shoulder. “I am exhausted.” She expected him to laugh or agree and cast her eyes to his. “You’re not?”

  “Maybe we should’ve done something more low-key.”

  She sat up. “What? No! I loved that. Why—”

  “I forgot everything you’ve been through.”

  “Ha.” She choked on her laugh. “Liar.”

  His brow furrowed. “Meaning what?”

  All day long, Jane hadn’t a clue where they were headed next, but she was certain he couldn’t forget where they’d been. One look at her, and he could see the evidence of their time in the desert. She was pocked, peeling, bandages, and just plain ugly. Jane shook her head and then watched the landscape pass by.

  “Hey.”

  She didn’t look away from the window. “Hm?”

  “Jane?”

  He wasn’t going to let this drop. Next time, she should control her thoughts better. Jane pulled a deep breath then looked at him.

  His eyes were tight and assessing. “Why would I lie about forgetting?”

  Her stomach turned. “Please don’t pretend. Okay? It doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  “Jane—what are you talking about?”

  Incredulous, she tilted her chin up to give him a good look at her neck. She tugged a dress strap to the side of her shoulder and then let go, opting to just hold out her arms.

  The man had the gall to feign cluelessness. Was this supposed to make her feel better? Did she need to pull up the long skirt and remind him how her legs looked? No, she didn’t have to do that. Even though the dress offered a great deal of coverage, it showed enough bare skin that she shouldn’t have to parade wounds to make her point. “Don’t act like I’m not a walking, talking billboard for the dangers of the desert.”