by Leslie North
“Guess we’ll be toughing it out this week,” she tossed over her shoulder at Spencer as he slid out of the car, feeling far more lively now she’d gotten some food.
“Damn,” Spencer said, coming up beside her. “This place looks like it cost a million.”
“One billion actually,” Toni replied, smiling. “At least that’s what my father’s paper reported.”
At the mention of her dad, Spencer’s appreciative expression went flat. He mumbled something under his breath then went around the back of the limo to check on their luggage with the driver as a man dressed in traditional Arabic garb of white robe and turban approached her and bowed respectfully. “Ms. Williams. Welcome to The Lotus. It is our supreme pleasure to have you as our guest during your stay. My name is Ayaan and I will be escorting you to your accommodations and serving as your personal butler and concierge during your stay.”
“Thank you, Ayaan.” She waited until Spencer rejoined her, then they followed the man into the lobby. Lush tropical plants and ornately gilded pillars filled the spacious area. Sunlight streamed through the towering skylights above and the scent of jasmine and exotic spices filled the air. Everything looked tranquil and serene and infinitely opulent. Near the center of the space was an enormous carved marble table with a huge display of Birds of Paradise and lilies and cassis, their decadent, pungent fragrance heady. Bypassing the registration area completely, they followed their host to a private bank of elevators near the far corner of the room.
“Sheik Saaed has given you the use of the Palm Suite during your time with us. I hope you will find it satisfactory.” Ayaan held open the gold plated elevator doors for her and Spencer, then stepped inside to slide a discreet black key card into a small slot where normally the floor numbers would be.
Satisfactory didn’t begin to describe what Toni saw when the doors opened again.
Chapter 4
Spencer stared at the prickly woman across from him—all crossed arms, belligerent attitude, and shaky voice—and sighed. This was not how he’d pictured his morning going. He’d gotten up before dawn, showered and dressed in his best business attire, then hurried out to run through the hard drive on her computer for any hints as to where Coran Williams might be holed away then tried to hack into her phone to scan her texts. He’d thought he’d given himself plenty of time. Heiresses never woke up before noon, right? Obviously, he’d been wrong.
Telling her about his real mission hadn’t exactly been part of his plan, but now it seemed he didn’t have much choice. Toni needed this trip to succeed for her foundation almost as much as he needed to find her father, so maybe telling her the truth would work out for both of them. “You know I’m a SEAL.”
“Former SEAL.” Toni shifted her weight on the cold, hard, marble-tile floor. They’d managed to crawl on their hands and knees into the interior dining room and now sat against opposite walls, eyeing each other with suspicion. “According to the news reports your team was put on probation and disbanded pending more details about the events surrounding the death of Nick Matthews.” At his steady stare, she continued. “I did some investigation of my own on you before hiring you. I’m not an idiot. And I don’t live in a bubble either. You and your team were plastered all over the media during those congressional hearings and investigations.”
“There’s nothing former about my SEAL status.” He mimicked her defiant posture and held her gaze. “Once we were decommissioned, a high ranking official from the military ordered us on the down-low to discover who really killed our teammate.”
“But all the news reports stated he died because of negligence.”
Anger, white-hot and fierce, spread through Spencer like wildfire. Hands clenched as tight as his jaw, he leaned forward and snarled, “Nick was killed right in front of me. Took a sniper’s bullet to the back of his brain. That is not negligence.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened slightly before she looked away, her rigid posture drooping slightly. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been horrific.”
“Well, it wasn’t a day at the park.”
She nodded, her gaze lowered, a frown drawing her dark brows together. “So, that’s why you took this job then? As my bodyguard? Because you’re working on some secret mission for your team?”
“Yes.” With his initial indignation fizzling, Spence’s tense shoulders relaxed a tad. “I need to find your father.”
Toni snorted. “You and half the planet.”
“I’m serious. We’ve uncovered information that might help us find Nick’s killer. We think he’s involved in a covert operation called SHEEPSKIN. The NSA brief described it as a data network that’s being used to organize terror cells around the world and coordinate attacks. My team has reason to believe your father knows intimate details about this network and that somehow this SHEEPSKIN network is the reason Nick was killed. That’s why we need to find your father and question him. Do you know where Coran is?”
“No.” She glanced over at him then stood and sat on one of the nearby chairs. “I haven’t seen him since right before the explosion at his publishing house in DC.” Her frown darkened. “Wait. You guys didn’t have anything to do with the bombing, did you?”
“We’re the good guys remember, sweetheart?”
“Even good guys do bad things sometimes. At least that’s what you—and my father—always say.” She shook her head and looked away. “And don’t call me your sweetheart.”
Seeing as his current approach didn’t seem to be going so well, perhaps if he got her onboard with their cause, got her to trust him, she’d be more forthcoming with information. Besides, much as it surprised him, he enjoyed spending time with her. She couldn’t fire him. He didn’t want her to. He needed her not to.
“What were you looking for on my devices?” she asked.
“Intel. About your father’s whereabouts. Evidence that you’ve been in contact with him recently.”
Her posture stiffened once more. “I told you I don’t communicate with him. I have no idea where he is. Are you calling me a liar?”
“No. I’ve just learned the hard way to cover all my bases.” He stood and grabbed a dining room chair, turning it around backward to straddle it, facing her, his forearms resting along the back. “Listen, I wasn’t supposed to say anything to you about my mission, but you’ve trusted me so far to protect you, so I’m going to trust you now with what I’m about to tell you.”
She sat back and met his gaze, her expression unreadable. “Go on.”
“My team and I came to Jubail looking for your father. We think he can help us clear our name. We just want to talk to him, I swear.”
“The rest of your team’s here too? Where?”
“That’s not important. What is important is the fact we’ve also uncovered evidence to suggest there’s tracking software embedded in the files downloaded to the e-readers your foundation is distributing. Files that could be used by this SHEEPSKIN network to organize their attacks.”
“On my e-readers? And you think my family had something to do with that?” Anger flashed across her face, sharpening her features as she pushed to her feet and paced the room. “Do you have any idea how many times my father’s been accused of wrongdoing over the years? More than I can count.” Toni laughed, the sound mirthless and brittle. “And every time he made the headlines, I took the brunt. Kids calling me names, thinking I was some kind of tainted goods because of my father’s supposed shady dealings.” She sniffed loud and stared up at the ceiling. “But even then, I stood by him. My dad makes a lot of money, Spencer. A lot. And rich men live by a different set of ethics. I’m not saying it’s right or that my father’s some kind of saint, just the opposite, in fact. But if you’re insinuating he’s involved in some kind of terrorism or murder plot, I refuse to believe it. He might be willing to bend the rules when it comes to his finances, but never with his values. He loves his country and he loves his ideals. Those are the only things that matter to him.”
The wa
y her voice cracked over the last words damned near killed him. He exhaled slowly. “I’m sure he loves you. He’s your father.”
When she didn’t answer after, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. She didn’t want to believe bad things about her father, which was understandable, but that didn’t make the accusations any less true. “Okay. Suppose your dad doesn’t know about the hidden files, either.” Yeah, right. “Maybe someone at the manufacturing facility for the devices is loading them on there. We need to find Coran so we can question him. He might be our only shot of clearing our names in regards to Nick’s murder and solving this whole SHEEPSKIN mystery.”
Toni stood motionless, all the fight seemingly gone out of her. She still wouldn’t look at him and Spencer missed the spark of defiance in her dark eyes. Seconds ticked by and it seemed more and more likely she’d walk out without another word. Then, finally, she sighed and looked up at him again, her expression defeated. “What kind of tracking software?”
“Not sure yet. My team leader Kyle still needs to brief me on all the details. I’ll let you know when we find out though. Will you let me take a look at your phone?”
Her gaze narrowed. “And why should I trust you?”
He rose to his feet and moved closer, as if drawn by some invisible cord. Leaning a hand against the wall beside her, Spencer felt the heat of her penetrate the crisp cotton of his dress shirt. “Because right now, I’m all you’ve got. And I made a promise to protect you no matter what. A promise I intend to keep, sweetheart.”
“I told you not to call me sweetheart.”
She looked up at him through her long, dark lashes, and Spencer’s pulse kicked higher. The spark was back in her eyes. “What should I call you then?”
“Considering what you just told me, how about partner? You help me make this trip a success for the foundation and I’ll help you find my father.”
Spencer stared at her extended hand, his gaze flickering to her lips before meeting her eyes. He grasped her hand tight, feeling the connection between them throb stronger, brighter. “Okay, partner,” he said, putting a twang on partner, doing his best John Wayne impersonation. “So who do you think would want to kill you and when can I get your passcode?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head and frowned. “And I’ll get back to you later on the code.”
By the time that afternoon rolled around, Toni had racked her brain about who might want her dead and had come up empty-handed. Sure, her dad had made plenty of enemies on his rise to media mogul, but she helped kids and poor people for a living. Who would care enough about her to have her assassinated? And even if her father was somehow involved in all the awful things Spencer had accused him of—which she had a hard time accepting—that had nothing to do with her. She hadn’t shared her passcode with him yet either. It wasn’t that she had anything to hide, it just seemed so intimate, letting him into all the minute details of her life.
Spencer had been on the phone with his team for most of the day, discussing what had happened and running possible scenarios for the days ahead, coordinating her security and looking totally in his element. She might’ve fired the guy earlier, but she’d quickly rescinded that after the sniper attack. Yeah, he was an insufferable pain in her butt sometimes, but he also had managed to keep her alive and for that she was beyond grateful.
She needed him, pure and simple. Even if she didn’t want to tell him that.
Not yet anyway.
In the midst of all the chaos, she’d also managed to hold her mini-conference for the press to answer their questions and get some of the preliminary set-up done for the huge PR event the next day in the resort’s massive banquet room. Unfortunately, thanks to the sheer number of invitations Sheik Saaed had sent, what had started as a simple speech followed by a sit-down dinner for the main PR event had now ended up morphing into a full-blown extravaganza—a seven-course fundraiser dinner with a black-tie gala ball to follow, and an antiquities auction to boot—all thanks to the nearly round-the-clock efforts and seemingly endless resources of Sheik Saaed. Surprisingly, the auction had been the idea of Spencer and his team, and much as she hated to admit it, it was a good one. If there was one thing most rich people loved to do, it was to flaunt their wealth.
“Hey, can you pass me the leftover hummus?” Spencer asked from across the table.
She shoved the bowl over in his direction, along with the plate of fresh crackers Ayaan had provided, then continued typing out her list of needed items for the banquet hall caterers. Always lingering in the back of her mind, though, was their conversation from earlier. The truth about why Spencer had actually agreed to work for her, and his accusations about her father.
Not that she’d been shocked really. She’d always suspected her father might be up to no good, but she’d never voiced those concerns aloud, had barely let herself acknowledge them. Nor would she until Spencer and his team provided her with substantial proof. She was a trained attorney, after all, even if she’d never sat for the bar exam. But the idea her father, who’d always prided himself on his stellar reputation in the business world, might somehow be involved with terrorists? An involuntary shudder ran through her, despite the desert heat.
“You okay?” Spencer asked, his gaze concerned as he peered over at her.
“Fine.” She looked away fast, but not before noticing a cracker crumb stuck to the side of his mouth. She had the crazy urge to reach over and brush it off for him, maybe lick the spot to see if he tasted as good as he looked.
Nope. Not going there. After all, the guy had hacked her personal files. One didn’t just forget about that, no matter how handsome the man was or how noble his intentions. She’d gone in first thing afterward and changed her passwords, then continued to do so every hour since—for a total of five hours—just to be on the safe side. They might have formed a partnership, but that didn’t mean she trusted the guy completely. Not yet anyway. “Isn’t it time for your hourly perimeter check?”
“I didn’t realize my schedule was so important to you.”
“It is when you’re on my payroll.”
Spencer stood and patted the weapon holstered at his waist. It still bothered her, having a loaded firearm around, despite his confession earlier. And he seemed to have no bones about flaunting it in plain sight, especially since their surprise attack this morning. She supposed having an armed bodyguard should’ve made her feel more secure, but it only made her jumpier and more nervous than ever. Every loud noise, every sound basically, made her twitch and duck and want to hide under the nearest table.
He’d gotten up every sixty minutes, like clockwork, to assess the area for any threats, checking all the doors and windows before creeping out onto the balcony to scan the rooftops of the adjacent buildings. Toni had never been one for brute shows of force, but even she had to admit having her very own private SEAL protector was pretty damned hot. She glanced over at him as he stalked out of the room, doing her best not to stare at his muscled, tight butt. Even dressed in what should’ve been a hormone neutralizing outfit of plain khakis and white button-down shirt, the man was built. The fact he’d also removed his tie, leaving the collar of his shirt unbuttoned to expose a few extra tantalizing inches of his tanned throat didn’t escape her attention either.
Twenty minutes passed before he returned and took his seat in the interior dining room again, clicking the safety on his weapon before replacing it in its holster. He cocked a brow at her and gave her a challenging stare. “Satisfied?”
“Yes.” No. The blatant suggestion in his tone left little doubt about his double meaning, but she refused to take the bait. Honestly, they were both a bit stir crazy, having been holed up in here since the mini-conference first thing this morning, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to face any more crowds downstairs, so she tried some small talk instead. “Your team have any new thoughts on who this SHEEPSKIN person might be?”
“Other than your father?” he asked, his tone deadpan. “A f
ew.”
“Care to share?”
“Not really. Other than when I talked to my team leader earlier he said word on the black ops street was they may be using a nearby village as a training center for their fighters.”
“Wow. Anything else?”
He narrowed his gaze on her. “Ready to share your passcode yet?”
“Nope.”
“Then nope. I got nothing else either.” He sat back and crossed his arms, ending their conversation.
Fine with her. Frankly, this quiet time was precious to her. After today, her schedule demanded she be in the public eye constantly until her trip was done, and she really just wanted to savor the last few hours of privacy she had in peace. She got up to stretch her legs and wandered over to the doorway to peer at the windows beyond. The day outside was beautiful—warm and sunny with blue skies as far as the eye could see. Seemed a shame to stay cooped up inside, even with the threat of imminent gunfire at any time. Toni glanced over at Spencer, gaze narrowed. He was a trained SEAL, paid to keep her safe and secure no matter the location.
On her previous trip to Jubail, she’d asked her driver to take her someplace off the beaten path, someplace green and lush and full of natural wonder. He’d driven to a remote oasis that had been like a dream come true.
She hadn’t thought there would be time to revisit it on this trip, but with Spencer’s help she’d managed to get the mini-conference business handled with time to spare. He’d stepped in where her assistant usually would have, proving himself helpful in more than just a bodyguard capacity by putting his military-trained strategy skills to good use coordinating each facet of her event precisely and organizing the disparate volunteers into a cohesive whole. For that, she was both shocked and grateful.