by Diana Palmer
He groaned and lifted his head, stilling her exploring fingers. "You are killing me," he whispered.
"You asked me to marry you," she moaned, reaching up to try to capture his mouth again. "I'm saying yes...."
She kissed him. He half lifted her and deepened the kiss, making her knees go watery weak as the heat between them reached an explosive force.
"I feel I should tell you," a deep voice came from the wall beside them, "that we had to put microphones even in the rooms where we didn't put cameras."
Ahmed's head jerked up. His blazing eyes searched the walls while fierce and probably obscene words rattled off his tongue like nails out of an air gun.
"I won't have our translator work on that." Lang chuckled. "Congratulations on your engagement. Now would you mind getting out of the bathroom and breaking this up? Some of us are turning to strong drink...."
Ahmed caught Brianna's hand and pulled her out the door into the hall. He was raging mad, and she had to muffle laughter at the expression on his face. She was glad her name wasn't Lang.
"He did warn us before we embarrassed ourselves," she reminded him.
He was breathing roughly and his cheekbones were ruddy with bad temper. His narrow dark eyes looked down into hers. He said something terse.
"Will you teach me Arabic when we're married?" she asked with a loving smile.
"Only when Lang is in another country," he promised, glaring at the walls.
"I heard that" came plainly from another part of the wall.
"Go away, Lang," Brianna said. "I'm trying to accept a proposal of marriage in here."
"Yes, ma'am," Lang said, and there was a clicking sound.
She looked back at Ahmed. "Are you sure?" she asked. "There will be so many problems. Americans aren't well liked in your country, are they?"
"My people will like you," he said with certainty.
"What if your king refuses you permission to marry me?" she asked worriedly. "He could, couldn't he?"
"He could make it difficult, if he wished," he replied dryly. "But I can assure you that he will not. He will find you ravishing."
She knew he was exaggerating, but the flattery made her feel warm inside. "I hope so." She touched the loose buttons on his shirt. "We'll have to live in Saudi Mahara, won't we?"
He nodded.
"All the time?"
"Most of it," he said. "I travel in the performance of my duties, but our capital city of Mozambara is my home. I hope that you will learn to love it as I do."
"What about Tad?" she asked suddenly.
"He will come with us, of course," he said, as if he wondered why she should even have asked such a silly question.
"It will mean uprooting him. And myself. We'll have to learn other customs, another language―"
"You brood about things which will fall naturally into place, chérie," he said, "if you love me enough."
She stared into his black eyes with building hunger. He seemed to be waiting for something. Perhaps he was as uncertain as she was about the future. "I love you enough," she said huskily. "I love you more than my own life."
He drew her close and bent his dark head over hers, his arms bruising for a moment as he realized how much she belonged to him, and he to her. There had never been a time when he had considered the need to have someone of his own permanently to cherish. But he was growing older, and Mahara would need an heir.
"Do you like children, Brianna?"
"Oh, yes," she murmured happily.
He drew in a long breath. "There must be heirs. It is my duty to provide them."
"It used to be kings who had to do that," she said drowsily. "Now it's cabinet ministers, too. I won't mind at all. I love little babies."
He winced over her head. She didn't know his identity. He was tempted to tell her, but she might panic. It would be better to wait until he could settle the resistance there would surely be among his high officials and even among some American officials to this match. She would only worry and perhaps try to back out.
He drew away and looked at her rapt face. He smiled. "We will overcome the obstacles, together," he told her, reassuring himself in the process.
She pressed close and inhaled the faintly foreign scent of his cologne, secure with the heavy beat of his heart under her ear. "I'm twenty-two," she said absently.
"Yes, I know."
She lifted her head, curiously.
"Never mind how I know." He bent, smiling, to touch her mouth softly with his.
"Go to bed. It is late."
"I'm tired. But I don't think I can sleep," she said.
"Lie down, at least," he said.
"Okay. But I'm undressing in the closet!" she told the walls.
There were good-natured long sighs among the men in the room next door.
Lang was repentant when he came to the apartment the next morning. Brianna had a tight hold on Ahmed's hand so that he couldn't do to Lang what his eyes threatened.
"Sorry about last night," Lang said. "Really, I am, but we thought it would be wise to warn you while there was still time. We can't afford to leave even one room unprotected."
"The sooner this is over, the better!" Ahmed said harshly.
"All of us feel the same way, believe it or not," Lang said, and Brianna noticed then how tired and drawn he looked. "We haven't slept."
"Don't you take turns?" she asked.
He shrugged. "It's still twelve-hour shifts. Manpower is scarce for constant surveillance. We're a government agency, you know. We have to beg for funding just like everybody else, and sometimes the politicians get it in for us."
"Ah, democracy at work," Ahmed taunted.
Lang glowered at him. "Well, at least if we don't do a good job, nobody herds us into the marketplace to be decapitated."
Ahmed was affronted. "I have not decapitated anyone for a decade. We are a progressive nation. We even have protest rallies, just like the West."
"I remember your last protest rally," Lang commented.
Ahmed shifted. "It was unavoidable. They stormed the gates of the palace."
"What are you two talking about?" Brianna asked.
"Your new home," Lang replied. He fixed Ahmed with a steady look. "When are you going to tell her?"
"When I have overcome the diplomatic obstacles," Ahmed said quietly. "And ascertained that she will not be assassinated along with me on the way back to Saudi Mahara."
"Good point." Lang stretched, big muscles bulging in his arms. "Well, I'm going out for a cup of coffee and then a quick nap."
"Are there any new developments?" Ahmed asked.
"Several. You'll have company inside as well as outside tonight," he commented.
He stared at Brianna, who was looking uncomfortable. "You and Tad are pretty nervy people. Think you can survive a stakeout?"
"Sure," she said. "As long as I don't have to shoot anybody."
He smiled. "We'll do the shooting. But it won't come to that. I won't put any of you in danger."
"How about yourself?" she replied.
Lang shrugged. "I'm used to it. It's what I get paid for."
"Despite your eavesdropping propensities, I should hate to see you hurt," Ahmed added.
Lang grinned at them. "None of us likes taking chances. We're pretty sure they're going to make an attempt on you tonight. We'll be ready. With any luck at all, this will wrap it all up. If we're successful," he told Ahmed, "you could be on your way home by the end of the week."
Ahmed glanced at Brianna. "Yes," he said slowly. "So I could."
She didn't understand that look. It contained worry and apprehension, and she didn't think it was just because some enemy agents might make a grab for them.
The day passed slowly. Ahmed and Tad sat together in the living room, going over some new science magazines that Lang had provided, while Brianna reluctantly went to work. Her mind wasn't on her duties, though. It was on the danger they were all in, and especially on Ahmed's proposal of marriage. She wante
d to marry him. She loved him. But until now she hadn't had to deal with the complications of marriage to a foreign national.
On her lunch hour, she went to the local public library and checked out every book she could find that dealt with Saudi Mahara. It was such a small nation that she had to choose general subjects to find out anything. Then she got a book on Arab customs and copied a magazine article on women's roles in the Middle East. This would give her some idea of the new life she was going to enjoy, she thought. It would be better for Ahmed if his new wife had foreknowledge of what would be expected of her. Not that she expected to wear a veil and walk three steps behind him, of course.
Ahmed and Tad were deep in a discussion of nuclear physics when she got home from work with her load of library books, and there were four government intelligence agents sticking out of her refrigerator.
She stopped dead at the sight of them.
Ahmed smiled complacently. "They have had nothing to eat since lunch yesterday," he explained.
"Oh, you poor guys!" Brianna exclaimed.
They turned and stared at her. One was holding a carton of yogurt. Another had a carton of milk. The other two were having a minor tug-of-war over a wrapped cheese slice. They all lifted their eyebrows hopefully.
"I'll cook you up a big pot of spaghetti and some garlic bread," she promised, dumping the books on the sofa and making a beeline into the kitchen.
"God bless you!" one of the bigger agents said fervently.
The others marched him out of the kitchen to let Brianna work. It was quick work, too. She had spaghetti down to a fine art. The sauce should have simmered for at least half an hour, she supposed, but those men would all pass out sooner than that. She handed them plates and forks and started dishing it up the minute she could combine the cooked pasta with the meat sauce. Ahmed and Tad managed to get a few bites, too, and while everyone was occupied, Brianna made a bread pudding for dessert. Even the crumbs were gone five minutes after it was taken out of the oven.
Lang arrived just in time for the dishwashing. He had a toothpick in his mouth, and the other agents all gave him accusing looks.
"What?" he challenged. "I had a fast-food hamburger. A little one, okay?"
They surrounded him. "We," the biggest one said, "had spaghetti and garlic bread, homemade and delicious," he added, addressing a beaming Brianna. "And for dessert she made us bread pudding."
"And you didn't save any for me?" Lang asked, horrified.
"You had a hamburger," the big agent reminded him with a grin.
"I'll never do it again," Lang promised. "Can't I have just a crumb of bread pudding? It's my favorite."
"Sorry. We ate it all," the big agent said. He didn't look sorry. He was smiling.
"Just wait until I have to write up this surveillance," Lang began.
"Oh, yeah?" one of the other agents said, with his hands in his pockets. "And what are you gonna say, huh?"
They all adopted the same pose. Lang sighed. "That you're a great bunch of guys to work with, and next time I'll bring four extra hamburgers back with me."
The big agent patted him on the back. "Good man," he said. "I'll recommend you for promotion when I get to be President."
"I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you," Lang advised. "You'd break the budget in a week, the way you eat."
"What did you find out?" another agent asked, and they were suddenly all government agents again, all business.
They went into a huddle. In a minute they began to disperse, setting up equipment and checking it.
Lang was very somber as he drew the three occupants of the apartment to one side. "We want you to act naturally. Do what you've been doing in the evenings since Tad came here. We've swept the place for bugs and cameras, and it's clean. Just try not to be surprised at anything that goes down, okay? One of us will be with you all the time."
It became real life then. Brianna had seen films of terrorists. They had automatic weapons and no compassion. They killed quickly, efficiently, and without mercy. She looked at Ahmed and Tad and realized that she could lose either or both of them in less than two seconds. Her face went white.
Ahmed pulled her close against his side. "This is no time to become fainthearted," he said quietly. "You must have the bearing and dignity of high office, even when under fire. It will be expected of you."
Because he was a high official of his country, she realized. She searched his dark eyes. "I'm not worried for myself, you know," she said gently.
"I realize that. Nor I, for myself."
She smiled at him. "I won't let you down."
He brought her palm to his mouth. "Cowardice is the last thing I would ever expect from you."
She beamed. "Same here."
"Could you stop exchanging praises and just go about your business?" Lang asked amusedly.
"Of course." Ahmed let go of her and went back to the science magazines he was looking over with Tad.
The boy was wearing a new pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. He looked healthier, but he was still pale and weak. Ahmed studied him, noticing that he was as game as Brianna.
"You make me proud that I shall become part of such a family as yours," he told Tad.
The boy smiled. "That goes double for me. Will we live in your country, then?" he asked, because he knew already that he wasn't going to be left behind when Bri married. They'd made a point of telling him so.
"Most certainly."
"I'd love to learn to ride a horse. They say there are no horses in the world like the Arabians."
"This is true," Ahmed agreed. "However, the horses I own are magnificent in their own right. They are bred in Austria, and I..."
The attack was so sudden that Brianna wondered for a space of seconds if she was asleep and having another nightmare. The front door burst in with explosive force and men in masks carrying automatic weapons were spraying everything in sight with bullets.
Ahmed pulled Tad to the floor in a spectacular tackle while Brianna dropped behind the counter as soon as she heard the explosion.
The exchange of weapon fire sounded more like firecrackers popping than like real guns. It was surreal. Brianna knew better than to dare lift her head. She curled up on the floor to make as small a target as possible and hoped that the government agents were accurate with those nasty-looking weapons she'd seen under their suit coats. She didn't dare think about Ahmed or Tad, or she'd go mad.
There was a cessation of noise. A clink of glass falling. There were quick, hard footsteps and then Ahmed and Tad were bending over her.
"Are you all right?" Ahmed asked quickly, rolling her over and gathering her up close. His eyes were wild, his face pale under its natural darkness.
"Yes. Are both of you?" she asked, her eyes going frantically from Tad to Ahmed.
"We're fine," Tad assured her, but he was pale and his voice was shaking. "Gosh, that was some... something, wasn't it?"
Brianna clung to Ahmed, shivering with aftershock. Those men had come to kill him. The bullets had been meant for him. She gasped.
"All clear," Lang said, repocketing his automatic under his jacket. He looked down at Brianna, his face still showing traces of ferocity from the ordeal. He glanced over his shoulder. "Don't let her get up yet," he told Ahmed.
"Haven't you caught them?" she asked fearfully.
"Oh, yes," Lang said, and there was something in his eyes that she didn't want to see. She looked quickly down again.
Ahmed cradled her in his arms and sat with his back against the cabinet. Tad started to peek around the corner but Ahmed jerked him back.
"No," he told the boy, and his face was unusually stern.
"Okay. I was just curious."
"Curiosity sometimes carries a high price," he was told. Ahmed looked down at Brianna's white face. "It is over," he told her softly. "All over. Lang told me earlier that he was in contact with my government. The perpetrators will be caught now. The coup attempt has failed."
"Your king will be
relieved," Tad remarked. "Is he okay, do you think?"
"Oh, yes," Ahmed said absently, stroking Brianna's dark, damp hair back from her face. "The king has never been better, I am sure."
Later, when the devastation was cleared away and the enemy agents removed, Ahmed and Brianna and Tad were moved out of the wrecked apartment and into another.
Brianna had noticed stains on the carpet, but when she tried to ask about them, she was ignored.
"I'm not a baby, you know," she told Ahmed.
His smile was a little strained. "No. But I am older than you, and I have seen more. Believe me when I tell you that you need not know all of what has happened today. Trust me. Will you trust me, chérie?"
"Yes."
He brushed his mouth over her eyelids and left her with Tad while he moved out into the hall to talk to Lang.
"Well?" he asked the agent.
Lang was still high-strung from the experience. He leaned back against the wall, squeezing a hand exerciser to relax himself.
"I hate to be the one to tell you this," he told Ahmed. "But they've taken your sister into custody." He held up a hand when Ahmed tried to speak. "They haven't connected her to the takeover coup. They've only connected her husband. It was a preventive measure only. But you're going to have to go back with all haste and set things right. You knew that already."
"I knew. Brianna has not been told," he added. "She must not be. I need time to settle my affairs before I attempt to involve her in them. This, today, has been a salutary experience."
"It isn't the first time you've been shot at," Lang reminded him.
He nodded, looking darkly arrogant. "But it is the first time that she and Tad have," he replied. "For that alone, I have no regrets about the outcome."
Lang stared at the hand exerciser. "Assassination attempts are few and far between, you know. Your father had one. This is your second."
"This is connected to the same people, however," he said, "and they are now in custody. I must see what I can do for Yasmin. She would not try to kill me. I know this."
"Get a good lawyer," he was advised.