Protecting His Princess

by C. J. Miller

  Harris’s arms slipped around her waist, holding her against the long length of his body. He pulled her head scarf away from her hair. “Why do you cover up your hair? It’s so beautiful.”

  She should break away. She should stop him. Nothing in her could do so. His arms felt too good around her, the lean strength of his body against hers.

  “I have to cover it. At least while I’m in public in Qamsar.”

  His eyes followed his hands as they moved along the fabric of her dress. “The clothes you wear are supposed to keep a man disinterested. You need to tell whoever made these clothes, it didn’t work. If anything, I’m more interested in seeing what’s underneath. I spend more time thinking about it than is right.”

  He released her, but his gaze never left her.

  “You’ve seen what’s under my clothes,” she said. She realized she’d chosen the wrong words. She’d meant he’d seen her in Western clothes.

  “I wish that statement was true.”

  She read the kiss in his eyes and leaned into it. His mouth met hers, and she’d expected a hard, intense kiss. Instead, his lips were soft yet demanding, nudging her own apart. He shifted, moving his body on top of hers, tucking her beneath him. The kiss took on a carnal life of its own growing harder, deeper.

  They’d slept beside each other, slept with his arms around her, but this felt different. Laila sensed this was leading somewhere, and she didn’t want to stop it. She anchored herself to him, his amazing mouth moving over hers.

  Her mind screamed for more. As if he’d heard her, he set his thigh between her legs, and she let her knees open as wide as her dress would allow. With his leg in such an intimate position, pieces of her control shattered. He braced his elbows on the bed on each side of her head, holding his body over hers.

  This is what she had been missing for most of her life. Passion. Heat. She couldn’t get enough. Laila sensed a change in Harris. He wasn’t controlled and confined. Shifting his weight to one side, his hand explored her body. Need pulsed from his fingers into her, his hands stroking her in ways she’d never experienced, driving her body higher and bringing hot arousal into her core.

  His hand skimmed under her breasts, and she arched, wanting his hands on her. He seemed tentative at first, his hand brushing lightly across her oversensitized nipples and, at her moan of encouragement, clamping across her breast.

  The satisfied sound that escaped his lips almost made her vault off the bed.

  “We need to slow down,” he said.

  “No, no, we don’t,” Laila said. Let them see where the attraction led.

  “The longer we do this and the further this goes, the more difficult it will be to stop.”

  She wanted Harris, and her body had every intention of letting him make her feel good. Except this was a big decision for her. Her honor, her readiness and her heart would change if this happened between them. Was she ready to make love to a man? To Harris?

  Her mind spinning and her heart pounding, she scooted back on the bed and sat up on her elbows. “Maybe we should see about going out.” Being in public and adhering to Qamsar’s social conduct laws would prevent them from openly pawing each other. She’d have time to think and not be swept away by her desires.

  Some boundaries would help. Some boundaries would keep their desire in check.

  Harris leaned back on his haunches and stabbed a hand through his hair, leaving the ends standing up in a mussed and sexy way. “Yes, let’s go out.”

  “Are you mad?” she asked, trying to read his emotions.

  “Of course not. I will never do anything you’re not ready to do, and I want you to be comfortable and happy.”

  Laila knew he meant it and another part of her heart was lost to him.

  * * *

  Harris returned to his room to change for his night out with Laila and to throw some cold water on his libido. He had been close to making love to her, and he was glad they had stopped when they did. She wasn’t looking for a one-night stand. She deserved better and more, especially for her first time.

  Time away from the compound, the mission and the constant attention of Laila’s family would be good for them. The stress of the day and their experiences in the jails had left Harris feeling cramped and on edge. If he were discovered as an American spy, he expected to join the other American in the Cinder Block. The conditions inside were worse than any jail he’d seen in America. He’d like to think he’d survive and escape, but how?

  More maddening was thinking about Laila being discovered and joining him in jail. The Cinder Block wasn’t a place for women, and Harris could only imagine what a woman might face under those conditions.

  No matter how this ended, Harris wouldn’t let it end with Laila being imprisoned. He’d protect Laila however he needed to, using whatever means and resources at his disposal.

  Harris wasn’t sure how they would break away from Laila’s security escort once outside the compound. The emir had spoken to Harris about marrying Laila, giving Harris some privileges as her intended fiancé, but where was the line? Would he cross it with her and infuriate the emir?

  The restrictions in the emir’s compound were more severe than they might be other places. Could he have a private dinner with Laila? Hold her hand? Stare into her eyes and talk about whatever came to mind without censoring his thoughts, without the ridiculous fake accent?

  His cell phone rang, and he glanced at it, expecting to see Laila’s number. It wasn’t Laila. He had a message from the CIA.

  He logged into his secure message application and the words stopped him cold. “Al-Adel spotted in Qamsar. Location unconfirmed. D to deliver recon equipment ASAP.”

  Harris didn’t have any exterior surveillance devices to place to watch the entrance, and exposing the devices he had to the elements and dark made them less reliable. He’d have to watch until Devon could deliver better equipment.

  His plans with Laila disintegrated, but he had a new mission for the night. He needed to stake out the entrance to the compound and watch if anyone entered under a veil of secrecy. Al-Adel could be on his way to the compound. Harris texted Laila that he needed to cancel their plans for the night. She texted him a few seconds later.

  Why do you have to cancel? she asked.

  I need to stay in and rest.

  It was a few minutes before she texted back. Understood. It was a long day.

  Did she understand it wasn’t exhaustion, it was mission-related?

  A soft knock at his door. When he opened it, she had a smile on her face. She’d read between the lines on his message.

  “I wanted to say good-night.” She reached out and tucked a small slip of paper into his pocket. “Night, Harris.”

  She walked down the hall, and he opened the folded paper to read it. I want to help.

  Could he involve her again? He needed a post where he could wait and watch. It would be long, boring work. If she was keeping him company, it would help pass the time. He could wait all night and see nothing. Finding a place to hide and watch would be difficult, and putting Laila in that situation for his selfish needs seemed wrong. What if they were caught?

  Would she want to help if she knew what was involved? He sent her a text. Dress in layers. Courtyard. The now was implied. He’d explain to her, and if she changed her mind about assisting him, he’d understand.

  He changed into dark clothes with layers. Qamsar was boiling during the day, but after the sun set, the temperatures dropped.

  Harris waited by the gazebo where he and Laila had met before. She arrived in less than five minutes. She’d changed into a dark dress and pants peeked beneath it.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, sounding out of breath. She looked over her shoulder as if expecting someone to interrupt them.

  “Al-Adel was spotted inside the border. I need to watch the entrance to the compound.”

  Laila’s eyes were wide with concern. “I’ll watch with you.”

  Having her with him was ap
pealing, but the danger he was placing her in had him pausing. “If we’re caught, we’ll be in trouble. It will be difficult to explain what we’re doing alone on the roof inside the emir’s compound. It will look bad for us.”

  “We’ve been risking trouble since the moment I agreed to work with you,” Laila said. She reached for his hand and squeezed it.

  Twenty minutes later they were perched on the roof of the emir’s pool house, which gave them a direct view of the entrance to the compound. They’d had to climb onto an awning and pull themselves up onto the top level. It was too cold for outdoor swimming, and the area was vacant.

  Spotting cars was made easy by the approaching headlights of the vehicles cutting into the dark.

  “What will we do if he shows up?” Laila asked.

  “Let my team know. We won’t approach him. We’ll take some pictures and send them on for verification.”

  “If he is here, what’s the master plan?” Laila asked.

  Harris hadn’t been given specifics. “The team will involve the local authorities and arrange for him to be apprehended. Once he’s in custody, we’ll figure out what he’s doing in Qamsar, and find evidence to tie him to your brother and any other groups he might be working with.”

  Laila shivered. None of the options he’d presented would end well for her family.

  Harris wrapped his arm around her, tucking her against his body. “You don’t have to stay out here with me.”

  “Sure I do.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s better than being alone in my room.”

  “I’m sorry our plans changed. I owe you a date,” he said.

  Laila lifted her head, and he turned to meet her searing gaze. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I told you I would take you out tonight, and then this came up. I’m a man of my word. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “You don’t have long. Mikhail’s wedding is in a few days, and Mikhail and Aisha have the days booked with events.”

  His time in Qamsar with Laila was growing shorter, and his feelings for her were growing deeper. She was open and honest. Even when he’d hidden behind his cover and worked the CIA’s agenda, she hadn’t closed herself off. She’d given him her trust and had risked her life for this mission.

  He hadn’t figure out how he would make it work and cut through the miles of red tape, but when they returned to the United States, he wanted to stay in her life. “Maybe I can take you out after the wedding. I put in a request to know where you’d be relocated.”

  Laila inhaled sharply. “Was it approved?”

  “No answer yet,” Harris said.

  Sadness dropped the corners of her mouth. “We’ll wait and see what happens rather than make plans we both know won’t work.”

  Harris considered her words. Laila deserved happiness. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be the man to give her that happiness. Would she want a man who would convert to Islam? He would be willing to do almost anything for Laila. At the start of this mission, he’d known he’d have to let her go once it was over. Facing that prospect now seemed impossible.

  Harris settled in for a long cold night of watching and waiting for Ahmad Al-Adel.

  * * *

  Ahmad Al-Adel had never shown at the compound. Or if he had, he’d found another way inside besides the front entrance. Laila forced exhaustion from her mind. She’d been out all night with Harris, cuddled together on the roof of the pool house, waiting for Al-Adel to arrive. She and Harris hadn’t seen anyone looking like Al-Adel. Harris had retrieved an outdoor video device around 4:00 a.m. from one of his contacts. They’d installed it to watch the entrance to the compound. The placement was a risk Harris was willing to take with Al-Adel being so near, their intel indicating he was in the country.

  Tempted to cancel her plans for the day after getting to sleep at 6:00 a.m., Laila forced herself to forgo more rest. She’d made plans with her extended family earlier in the week and changes would invite questions. Mikhail and Aisha wanted family and friends, especially those who lived outside the country, to experience the culture and attractions Qamsar had to offer. Though none of the activities were new to Laila, as the emir’s sister she was expected to participate.

  Plus, Harris would be with her.

  Aisha and Mikhail had arranged a private tour of the Qamsarian National Aquarium in Doha. The aquarium housed more than sixteen thousand animals and seven hundred species of fish, birds, reptiles and mammals. Visitors walked through tunnels of glass with fish swimming on four sides, creating an immersion experience.

  Laila was meeting over two dozen of her family members, cousins near and distant including young children and older relatives at the aquarium. It had been closed to the public for the emir’s exclusive use, and Mikhail and Aisha had planned to make a brief appearance later in the afternoon to have lunch. Laila had visited the aquarium several times in her life, but it had been years since the last time.

  Laila had made polite conversation with her relatives on the ride there and had tried to keep the conversation away from Harris. She was grateful when they entered the lobby. At least her family would have other things to think about besides her relationship with Harris.

  “How are you feeling today?” Laila asked Harris, keeping her voice low as their tour began.

  Harris rolled his shoulders as if working out a cramp. “Like I slept for two hours.” Which was about the amount of time she had.

  She held back the urge to touch his arm. She had to preserve appearances. “We’ll power through.”

  Laila took another deep breath and wondered if the aquarium served coffee.

  Their conversation stopped as their tour guide explained the fish in the tanks around them. Laila had little interest in the description. She liked seeing the animals and watching them swim. She could let her mind wander to the nights Harris had held her and shown her things she had never experienced.

  Would she feel this intensely if it were another man? Laila couldn’t imagine every relationship would hold this level of heat and intimacy. She couldn’t envision being with another man and feeling the same way.

  On the tail end of that thought came a wave of sadness. What future could she have with Harris? He’d said his request to see her when returning to America had gone unanswered. He had asked the question, which meant something to her, but what good did it do if the answer was no?

  * * *

  Harris walked behind the group as they toured the aquarium. It was the best place for him to observe. A glass-enclosed bridge connected the main aquarium to the newer exhibits and the dining area where they were planning to meet Mikhail and Aisha. Their group was traveling across, looking out from the third-floor view. The streets below were heavy with traffic and the sidewalks crowded with people on their way to or from work, shopping and having lunch. Directly across the street was the symphony hall where a special concert was being held later that night in honor of the emir’s wedding. At the corner of the street was the Qamsar National Art Museum, displaying priceless treasures from around the world. Several local artists had been commissioned to create works to celebrate the royal nuptials. That artwork would be unveiled the following day in a special exhibit.

  A bright flash had every nerve in Harris’s body tensing. He reached for Laila and pulled her against him, sheltering her with his body. The glass around them shattered, and the boom of an explosion pulsed through the air. Harris recognized the sounds and sights from his time in the marines. A bombing nearby, possibly close to or inside of the aquarium.

  He clutched Laila to him, wanting to shield her from another blast, gunfire or whatever else might come next. Adrenaline surged hard in his blood. The people with them needed his protection, too. The children. The mothers. Laila’s family. He needed to get everyone to safety.

  First priority was to get off the bridge and out of the building. If it collapsed, they were dead. The main building was closer. How many seconds had passed? Laila’s family
looked stunned and confused.

  Harris pointed behind them. “Pick up the children and run. Get off the bridge.”

  Forget protocol. He didn’t let go of Laila’s hand, needing her with him in a place where he could keep her safe. He surveyed the group. A mother with two small children was looking between them as if trying to decide. They didn’t have time to waste. With his free arm, Harris grabbed the child closest to him, holding the little girl against him. The mother grabbed the other child, gratitude shining in her eyes. Laila stayed close.

  Mothers and fathers picked up their children and raced toward the red door leading to the main aquarium from where they had come. Once inside the building, Harris scanned for a way outside.

  He turned his attention to their tour guide. “Where is the nearest exit?”

  The man appeared badly shaken. “The elevators.”

  “No, not elevators. The nearest stairwell.” The elevators would be unstable and the possibility of losing electricity was high. White light from the exit signs hanging from the ceiling glowed in the darkened aquarium. Harris counted them lucky that they weren’t wading through water or sharks or complete darkness. The fish tanks had withstood the blast, or at least hadn’t shattered the way the glass on the bridge had.

  Were the other aquarium employees finding a safe way out?

  The tour guide pointed to one of the lit exits. Everyone followed Harris as he strode toward it. The little girl he was holding clung to his neck, her sobs loud in his ear. It was enough to tear his heart out of his chest. She was terrified, and he didn’t know what to say to her to make her feel better.

  He went for simple. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”

  Laila was singing softly to the girl and rubbing her back consolingly.

  Harris pushed open the metal exit door. “Women and children down the stairs first,” Harris said. He squeezed Laila’s hand. He wanted her to get to safety. “When you get downstairs to ground level, move away from the crowds. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “I’m staying with you,” she said.

  Mothers and their children filed passed him.