He looked up, thinking of the woman in the maid’s uniform. She was the only one he’d seen using the back exit. His instincts, everything in his being, told him that something was off, that there was something more to this lone woman. Had she placed the explosive and come back to see the results of her work? Even as he considered that option he discounted it. Her mannerisms hadn’t reflected anything nefarious.
As he made the decision to follow her, a woman’s panic-torn voice sliced through both the chaos and his thoughts. It brought his attention, to the lobby.
“Everett!”
The voice sounded familiar, even muted by the chaos of sounds that swirled around him. He didn’t have time to analyze it. Instead, he moved deeper into the lobby, turning left and following the path of the maid he’d seen head in that direction. He turned a corner in the corridor and that’s when he saw her. She was holding a small boy by the wrist, causing him to stand on tiptoes. The child’s cheeks were wet from crying and he had his free thumb in his mouth. She was wearing a cream-colored head scarf and the beige uniform he’d caught a glimpse of earlier. Nothing about her seemed out of the ordinary. It appeared only that she was leading a child to safety.
But his gut told him that something was very wrong. “What are you doing with him?” he asked in Arabic. He doubted that the child was hers. No worker would have brought their child to work.
His theory was justified by the look of panic in her eyes and the way she held the boy by the wrist rather than by his hand. Clearly, she was unfamiliar with children that young, the panic obvious in her entire demeanor. He supposed his size and the fact that he was carrying an unconcealed firearm made him look official. Police, she might be thinking, although it wasn’t true.
“Where did you get him?” he asked without explaining who he was. He acted on his first hunch. “He’s not yours.” Aggression could work to his advantage in this instance.
Her mouth tightened and her eyes darted, as if she was seeking an escape.
He strode forward and kneeled down in front of the child, who now had half of his free fist stuck in his mouth. His face was smeared with what looked like dirt and streaked with tears. His dark hair curled wildly in every direction, but his shimmering light brown eyes looked at Talib with more curiosity than fright.
Talib stood up. He wasn’t sure what was happening here, but he intended to get to the bottom of it.
“A man said his wife had taken him. He paid me to deliver him to the back exit.” She clasped her hands and backed up. “I...” She stumbled, speaking in Arabic. “It was easy to take him. There was so much running, screaming.”
“You took him in the confusion?” he asked.
She nodded. “I don’t understand much English and that’s what he—” she pointed at the child “—speaks. Although he can’t speak much, he keeps saying Mama.” She looked genuinely frightened and possibly even sorry. “I...something was wrong. I was going back to the desk to tell Mohammed,” she said.
“Who’s Mohammed?” Talib asked and made no effort to filter the edge from his voice.
“My supervisor,” she said anxiously.
“How much money were you offered?”
“None. I wouldn’t—”
“If you want to keep your job...” He let the threat dangle. He was beginning to lose patience with the whole situation. “Look, I assume you need the money but this kid isn’t the way you’re going to get it.”
“He said he was his father. I needed the money. But I was going to take him back.” She shook her head and looked down at the boy.
“You were doing the right thing,” Talib said, strangely believing her. Poverty could cause good people to do desperate things. And in Morocco, the father’s rights could still often trump those of the mother. It was possible that she truly thought she was bringing the boy to his father. Possible, but unlikely. He squatted down and picked up the child.
“I’ll take it from here,” he said with the voice of authority that was never questioned. “I’m sure his mother is beside herself with worry.” The woman’s story had rung true and odds were that she was struggling to feed a family, possibly extended family, on a maid’s wages. Still, she had taken this child, and in ordinary circumstances he would have detained her. He shifted the toddler on one arm just as the panic in her eyes flared and she bolted. He had no choice but to let her go.
He looked down at the child in his arms and was met by curious eyes that looked at him in an oddly familiar way. “You’ve had quite the day, little man,” he said. The toddler smiled and pushed a finger against his chin.
But as he reentered the lobby, a scream rose above the alarms and the sirens of the emergency vehicles that had just arrived.
A woman charged through the throng of people, heading straight toward him.
“Everett!” she screamed.
She was a petite whirlwind. She was moving so fast, so ferociously, that there was little doubt that she was emotionally invested, that the child was hers. There was also no doubt that he knew her.
He allowed the child to be plucked from his arms. She held the boy so tightly that he began to cry, but it was the panicked look in her gray eyes and a vision from long ago that registered with Talib. He shoved the disconcerting memory away. What mattered most was getting the two of them out of here. Smoke still filled the area. Firefighters were just entering the lobby and were already directing the remaining guests outside.
“Let’s go,” he ordered. It didn’t matter why she was here or even who she’d been to him. He needed to get her and the boy he assumed was her son to safety.
“What were you doing with him?” she demanded. Her eyes pinned his like a thick gray mist and were the first warning that she was dangerously angry.
It was similar to the last time he’d seen those eyes.
Except, the last time she had only recently left the bed that was still warm from their lovemaking. He remembered that she’d given him a dreamy look and told him that she loved him. He didn’t like to think about that moment, for he wasn’t proud of how he’d reacted.
It hadn’t gone well after that, after what he had said.
She’d been proud and angry and told him what she’d thought of him, which hadn’t been at all flattering. He’d said nothing, for there’d been nothing to say. Every word she’d spoken had been the truth. After that, he’d driven her home in a car that was thick with silence. He was sorry, but at the time what he had told her had been the truth. It was what he’d told every woman who’d fancied him. He wasn’t ready to settle down, be serious, or declare undying love for anyone. He doubted that he ever would. Unfortunately, he’d told her that. It was then that she had tried to kill him with a look deadlier than he’d ever seen. Then, she’d managed to chip the custom paint job on that year’s vehicle when she’d kicked the door with one tiny, stiletto-clad foot. To her credit, he didn’t think it was deliberate. But he had his doubts. Especially because she’d done all that while telling him in a deadly calm voice that he could go to a place where it was just a bit hotter than the Sahara in midsummer.
It hadn’t been his best breakup.
Chapter Three
“Sara?”
The voice was filled with that deep, commanding ring that she had never forgotten. It peeled back the layers of panic, penetrated the emotional chaos of losing Everett and her maternal fussing that she couldn’t stop. For the first time that tone, that sense of self and of control, didn’t grate, but instead was a life raft in a sea of insanity. The tone cut through everything and his presence broke easily through the crowd. She knew his voice like she knew her own heartbeat, would always know it, could never forget it.
He was back and he’d brought her son, when she had thought that her baby was lost. There was only one thing important in this moment—getting Everett out of the hotel.
She ran her hands over her child as if she expected to find a fatal wound, a broken bone or some injury equally as threatening. There was nothing. Only a nose that was running and eyes that were red and, oddly, a smile on his face.
She fumbled in her pocket for a tissue, pulled it out and wiped her son’s nose, not slowing her stride as she headed for the door. Everett pulled away to look over her shoulder and what he saw made him giggle. At least her son was finding some amusement in a situation that was causing her empty stomach to want to heave. She clutched him tighter and walked faster.
Talib.
She could feel him right behind her and to her left. He wasn’t saying anything, but his presence was insuring that there was no delay in exiting the building.
She hadn’t seen him since that fateful summer almost three years ago. She’d hoped never to see him again and yet here she was looking for his help.
Despite coming here to find him, she hadn’t been prepared for it to happen like this. Just his presence brought back all the hurt. She’d been afraid of that. That was one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted to come here in the first place. There’d been many reasons, but that one had trumped them all. But she’d had no choice. She was here, with him right behind her. The hurt flooded back strong enough to steal her breath, like a tsunami from which she could never escape and with it came the anger.
Her heart pounded. For even after the years that had stretched between them, he affected her. He’d been a first-class jerk and one wasn’t apt to forget such a man. But now there was one other thing that she wasn’t apt to forget. He’d saved the most important thing in her life. Saved, found—she wasn’t sure which was accurate and it didn’t matter. Everett was safe.
She shifted her baby. He was heavy, even for the short distance to the exit. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t putting him down for anything, even as her hand shook from shock and Everett began to snuffle. She knew he felt her panic. Between that and the noise and the confusion of the last few minutes, she was surprised that he was as quiet as he was.
“It’s all right,” she whispered into his ear. She could smell the unique scent of the shampoo she’d used on his hair combined with the heavy smell of smoke. She ran a finger down his soft cheek, thumbing away the remaining tears. His bottom lip quivered and she knew that he was seconds away from bursting into a full-out wail. Once that happened, there’d be no stopping him. Everett’s crying jags could be legendary. Now he had every reason to cry. She imagined that his flair for drama might mean she had a future actor on her hands. Or...she looked back at Talib, remembering.
She blew the thoughts from her mind. No matter Everett’s discomfort or the former lover behind her, they could both wait. She needed to get her son out of this hotel and to safety.
And as she thought that a firm hand was on her waist and Everett plucked from her arms. Her heart stopped. This wouldn’t happen again. She was ready to fight for her child. She turned and met the eyes of the man she had come here to see.
“Sara. He’s heavy. Let me.”
This time, his voice cut through her panic. His voice, like his presence, his personality, his everything, was too smooth and he was much too sure of himself. He looked the same and yet something had changed. She could see it in the depths of his dark, gold-flecked eyes. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, only that it was different, as if he was haunted by something or someone. A woman probably, she thought with scathing awareness and then pushed the thought from her mind. If she expected his help she would have to be civil and to do that she had to begin with her thoughts, and that one hadn’t been fair. Whatever he was, he’d help her now. That was Talib, solid and dependable in anything that was not a romantic entanglement. Her mood dove again at that word. Entanglement. There could be no better or less flattering word for their failed relationship. And it didn’t matter, for it was over—had been over for a very long time. It was another entanglement that was the problem, that was more than a problem, and that was why she was here.
He escorted her to the door, his hand holding her by the wrist as if he was her jailer. There was nothing she could do but be led to safety, to the place on the sidewalk that he deemed safe.
“Where are you taking us?” she asked.
He ignored her question. Instead he said, “You’ve spent enough time in this and the smoke can’t be good for your little guy.”
Her little guy. She sucked back relief. For coming here had been a risk. Finding Talib here today, more than lucky. Still, nothing could remove the fear. And she had so much fear. Fear for herself, for Everett, fear at facing Talib once again with the truth.
But despite all of that, she’d found him in the unlikeliest of situations. Not the most unlikely place. She’d known that he and Ian were friends, and that Ian had requested his help. That was the main reason that she’d chosen this hotel, it had been the timing that was strange. The bonus in all of it was that her travel agent had found a great promotion—everything had clicked together.
“Over here,” Talib commanded and with those two words he made it clear that not only was he back in her life, but he was also taking charge, at least for now. And, at least for now, she would let him. Later—she hadn’t thought that far.
This had been a journey of desperation. And now, despite having come all those miles to find him, she wanted to run—take her son with her before it was too late for both of them.
Instead she looked up at him. “I can’t believe I ran into you in the midst of this. But I’m glad you were here to find—”
“What are you doing here, Sara?” He cut her off with a hint of anger in his voice.
The conceited donkey.
He thought she was here because of him. She looked at her son in his arms and that was the only reason she didn’t lose it then and there. Unfortunately the truth of it was that what he was implying, what he’d left unsaid...he was right. She was here because of him, just for none of the reasons that the arrogant fool thought.
What she was here for was much more serious than any romance ever could be. And despite what he thought, and she knew very well what he thought, it was hard to deny the truth. He was a magnet for women, but he was no magnet to her. Not anymore. Those days were long over. But despite not needing him romantically, he was right about one thing. She did need him, she needed him very much.
For without him she was terribly afraid she was going to lose her son.
Chapter Four
Outside the hotel, Talib juggled the child in his arms as he put a hand on Sara’s arm. It was an automatic gesture that rose out of the ashes of the past as if she’d never left, as if he’d never asked her to leave. It was strange how the truth of their relationship, how it had ended, had never been something he’d deceived himself about. He cared about her, but he couldn’t be with her, not like that.
Sara owed him nothing, certainly no explanations. But the thought that she’d carried on with her life, married and had a baby, was oddly disconcerting. He pushed back the emotion, unable to face why it existed or what it meant. It was a moot point, he knew that. He had no right to question her actions and the sane thing to do now would be to push emotion to the background. Emotion did nothing in a situation like this. Still, it bothered him and it shouldn’t. After all, he was the one who had broken up with her, gone his own way—forgotten about her. Or had he?
“Where’s your husband?” he asked and wished he could have rephrased. The question was more abrupt, more invasive even, than he had meant it to be.
“I’m not married,” she said as she turned to look at him. There was defiance in her eyes—a defiance that had hooked him on a day that now seemed a combination of yesterday and so long ago.
“Oh, I...” he spluttered, unsure of what to say. He’d fallen into a gaffe of his own making and that
was completely unlike him. But even now, she pushed buttons like no one else could.
“It’s okay, say it. It’s not like others haven’t or at least thought it.”
“Say what?”
“That you thought I was smarter than that. Smarter then becoming an unwed mother that...” Her voice choked off.
“Sara...” He stopped her with a touch of his hand on her shoulder. She’d always been, in some ways, unbelievably old-fashioned. “I’m not suggesting anything. We’ve been apart for a long time. What you do is none of my business. What is my business is getting you to a safe—”
“We’ll go wait with the others,” she interrupted and held out her arms to take her son.
“Just a minute. Wait,” he said. It was odd how that need to protect drew him even now. He wasn’t sure what Ian had planned for his guests, but for Sara and her son, he’d make sure they had alternate arrangements. He was on the phone for a little under a minute before he had things worked out to his satisfaction. The entire time he could feel her attention on him as he juggled the boy in one hand and the phone in the other.
“You’re exhausted,” he said as he slipped the phone into his pocket. “I’ve got another hotel arranged for you. Let me get you both safely on your way.”
“But—”
“It was a long flight. Get some rest and then we’ll talk.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “But no.”
She sounded in control, calm despite everything that had happened, yet her gaze seemed distracted, like it was all too much, and her face was pale.
“No arguments. It’s on my account. You just take care of him, of the boy.” He didn’t tell her what he’d seen, why he was so concerned. He looked into her eyes. The look she gave him said that she trusted him and still he couldn’t tell her that he’d saved her child from a potential kidnapping. He didn’t know why she was here or what she wanted, but that need to protect, to not have her worry, was as alive as it had been during their relationship.
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