by Lexi Blake
Over the elevator feed he heard Erin say, “I’m tired. Let’s tell the boss we’re done for the night.”
Phoebe nodded. “After dealing with that wanker, I just want to go up to the suite and forget men exist at all. I can’t believe I left London for this.”
He wasn’t about to let her forget. He intended to make sure she knew he existed. He sighed and stepped back. He’d damn near fucked up everything. “I’m sorry.”
Ten’s green eyes were icy cold as he looked him over. “Next time you’ll be out. I’ll ship you back to Taggart and you’ll do this job from several thousand miles away.”
He deserved that. “Yes, sir.”
Ten softened marginally. “I didn’t like the way he looked at her either, but I’ve had years to get used to the idea that my sister has a job. You don’t, so you better hurry up and get with the program. And we men stick together on my team. No one’s going to mention that Murdoch here has a possessive caveman side and a dick with zero IQ.”
Hutch grinned around a licorice stick. “It’s forever our secret.”
Jesse nodded to let Ten know he was grateful. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to look through the footage.”
Hours and hours of his life would be spent sifting through the surveillance footage they’d gathered from both the security cameras and the personal equipment they’d been wearing. He’d learned that espionage was a lot like soldiering—hours of tedious, careful work, and then some shit exploded.
He stepped away and looked out over the balcony. The moon hung low, illuminating the beauty of the Persian Gulf. He felt someone step up, and there was no question who it would be. “How do you deal with it, Si?”
“Having my wife in harm’s way from time to time?”
“Yeah.”
“Mostly she’s behind a computer, but when she’s out in the field, I have to trust her. I’m almost always out in the field. She’s got to deal with that every day. Chelsea is smart and she won’t take chances she doesn’t have to. You’ve got another problem entirely.”
He knew what his real problem was. “She’s already lost one husband.”
“Exactly. I wouldn’t spend my time railing at her for scaring you. She’s doing her job. Praise her for it.”
“He touched her.”
“And she handled it.” Simon seemed determined to be the voice of reason. “She wasn’t alone. She had Erin to back her up, and for all of Erin’s foibles, she’s a damn fine agent. She wouldn’t leave a teammate in the field to save her own life. They can handle things.”
It would be easier if Phoebe was behind a desk like Chelsea, or so pregnant she couldn’t work like Charlotte. Maybe Ian had the right idea. Just keep her pregnant so he could keep her safe. Except pregnancy wasn’t exactly totally safe, and then there were kids. Kids weren’t safe. Kids were small, crazed maniacs who thought playing in traffic and eating shit they shouldn’t was fun. Then he would spend his every waking hour terrified he would lose not only Phoebe but his kids, too.
Nope. Tag was an idiot.
“Are you all right?” Simon asked.
“I was just thinking about family.”
“And it made you turn slightly green?” Simon laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t think about it. Just do it. There are no guarantees in life except that if you waste it, you’ll regret it. Take it all—the good, the bad, the risky. This is yours and it’s all you have. Having a family is the most frightening thing in the world if you really let yourself think about it. All that pain waiting out there if you lose one of them. And still, it’s meaningless if you don’t have them. We find our families, Jesse. Some of us are lucky to find them when we’re born, but a lot of us have to look. So be grateful and welcome every single person who becomes family to you. Hold them close and yes, mourn them when they’re gone, so at the end of all of this you know you had a life.”
He took a long breath, forcing his emotions deep because he was going to do everything he could to have those troublesome, frightening children with Phoebe. Neither one of them had good parents, but it didn’t matter because he did have a family to rely on. When he had questions, he could ask Simon or Jake or Alex. His children wouldn’t be alone like he’d been. They would be surrounded by cousins who would occasionally have to help fend off office attacks if their Uncle Ten and Uncle Tag couldn’t get along.
He just had to convince Phoebe it was worth the risk.
“It doesn’t look like our night is over.” Hutch pointed to his computer screen as Jesse turned back around. “Who is that, boss?”
Ten stepped up behind them. “Can’t tell. Do we have a better camera angle?”
Hutch hit a couple of buttons, grimacing. “Nah. I don’t have anything that picks up his face. Phoebe and Erin were moving toward the elevators when he stopped them.”
Jesse moved to his side, trying to get a good view of the feed. At least she was back in the ballroom. There was less chance of something bad happening to her with the entire conference crowd surrounding them.
On the camera feed, Phoebe was talking to a man in a thawb, the traditional Arab robe. It was long and covered every part of the man’s body with the exception of his hands. His head was covered in a keffiyeh. He was standing right in front of Phoebe, but Jesse couldn’t see his face. Phoebe’s was clear on the camera and there wasn’t a hint of distress. She seemed calm and pleasant.
“Can you get audio?” Ten asked.
Hutch nodded and Phoebe’s voice came over the line. “Thank you so much for asking. I am well. There was a moment’s distress, but it’s all been handled.”
“I saw you leave with the American. He was not in his right head.” The voice was dark, rich. It sent a shiver down Jesse’s spine. It made his stomach curl.
“He was drunk.” Erin stood beside Phoebe. “It was embarrassing. We couldn’t find his friends so we got him upstairs.”
“Did you?” That deep voice asked. “Clever girls, but you should be careful here. Next time, ask a man to help you. You shouldn’t be required to see that part of the world. It could also give the rest of the attendees the wrong impression of your character. They might not understand that you were trying to help. They would only see two women alone with a man who is not their husband.”
Jesse forced himself to stay standing. It was right there, the impulse to hide, to make himself as small as possible so no one noticed him. He could hide from that voice. It didn’t have to find him.
“Thank you, Mr. al Fareed.” Phoebe gave the man a polite smile and elbowed Erin, who looked like she wanted to say something.
Don’t say anything. Don’t talk. Don’t argue. Just survive.
The man’s head bent slightly, as though acknowledging her gratitude. “You are with the Loa Mali contingent?”
“Yes, sir.” Phoebe’s accent was crisp, and he liked the fact that it was one more bit of armor she could put between her and the man in front of her. “My friend and I are in public relations and marketing for the king.”
“He’s an interesting man.” Al Fareed bowed slightly. “And he has interesting friends. Be careful. It would be a shame for nice women like yourselves to get caught in a war.”
“A war?”
“Business is always war and war is always a matter of business. Don’t ever forget that. And stay away from the Americans. They drink too much. Men, I’ve found, are nothing but dogs to be trained. That one needs a tighter leash. Good evening.”
He stepped out of the frame, his face never turning to the camera.
“Jesse? Are you all right?” He heard Simon talking, but it sounded far away.
Before he really knew what he was doing, he found himself running. There were shouts behind him, but he paid them no mind. He wasn’t going to listen to that voice in his head. That voice led him nowhere. There was a new voice that shouted for him to take action.
He ran out of the suite and headed for the stairs. They would be so much quicker than the elevators. His t
eam might catch him waiting for the elevators. They wouldn’t understand. The devil had to be caught. The devil wouldn’t be caught with cameras. He could manipulate those. He could only be caught by someone who knew him.
His mind raced as he flew down the stairs. One flight and then two and three and four. He lost track of how many. All that mattered was getting to the ballroom and unmasking the devil, showing him for the true evil he was.
His eyes caught on the door that led to the ballroom and he burst through it.
Sound and lights hit him. He was suddenly surrounded and in a sea of white.
His breath shuddered, but he forced some calm to slip over him. There were a few business suits, but mostly the entire room consisted of men in thawbs and keffiyehs. What color had the headdress been?
Red. It had been red, right?
Did every fucker in the room have to be wearing some damn form of red on his head?
His heart rate ticked up. He was here. The Caliph was here and he was wearing a mask. How the fuck was he supposed to find him when they all were wearing the same masks?
And there it was. That was the same keffiyeh he’d seen in the video feed. Red and black. He’d found him.
Jesse reached for the Caliph’s elbow, pulling him around, ready to stare into the face of his own nightmare.
“Can I help you?” an elderly man asked, his brown eyes softening with concern. “Are you all right?”
Not the Caliph. Not even close. Jesse stepped back. “Sorry.”
His heart sank and he stumbled a bit. He wanted to shout. Thought about it for a half a second. He could shout out and finally be done with this.
“Jesse?”
He stopped in the middle of the room. Phoebe. His hands were shaking. His heart racing. He wanted to walk away from her so she didn’t have to see him, didn’t have to know how this affected him and made him turn into a reactionary moron who hadn’t even thought about the consequences of running in here like a madman.
He looked up and hundreds of eyes were watching him. He was supposed to be a ghost, someone who clung to the sidelines and no one noticed, but he’d just made himself a massive target. He’d placed them all in danger because he couldn’t control himself.
He turned, knowing he had to get them out of here. She would be furious. He plastered a smile on his face that utterly belied his need to scream and roar and berate himself. “Hey, I was looking for you.” Yeah, they would believe that. “Heard you had some trouble.”
Erin was standing beside Phoebe with a frown on her face. “We took care of it. Looks like you’re having some trouble, too.”
“Back off,” Phoebe said under her breath. “We’ll deal with this upstairs.”
He turned and suddenly was taken back to that moment he’d been placed on an airplane to go from Ramstein AFB back to the States after he’d been found. He’d been in the hospital for weeks, and then they’d come for him. Five MPs. They’d been there for his “protection” his CO had claimed, but that hadn’t been how it felt.
He’d felt like a prisoner, like a man no one trusted.
As Simon and then Theo took up places on either side of him, he knew what it felt like again.
He walked forward toward the elevators, his gut in a nasty twist. He’d fucked up and it was going to cost him everything.
They got into the elevators and the silence was damn near devastating.
Phoebe’s head went down, avoiding the cameras this time. “I know. Ten, I will handle it. I don’t care. Yes, I’ll let him know.”
“Jesse,” Simon began.
Phoebe turned, her eyes flashing. “You will wait until we get upstairs and then you will wait until I’ve had my talk with him. Is that understood?”
So Phoebe was going to deliver the dressing down. Yeah, that was the icing on the cake. That was the final fucking blow. He was going to lose his job and her in the same moment.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he began.
“Be quiet,” she ordered.
The doors opened again and they marched out toward the suite. Ten was standing there waiting when they walked in.
“Do you have any idea what you just did? Every security team here is trying to figure out who you are. You have put every single one of us in danger,” Ten said, his voice as cold as ice.
Phoebe got right in her brother’s space. “I told you to stand down.”
“You don’t run this team,” Ten shot back.
“I don’t care. He’s mine and I will take care of him. You and everyone else will back the fuck off. I’m going to do this in private. We’ll deal with fallout later and that is my final say. Unless you want to fire me, you will let me deal with this my way.”
Ten scrubbed a hand through his head and stalked off.
Phoebe’s hand found his. It seemed a little cruel of her, but he was numb. He allowed himself to be led off. She walked right to the bedroom they’d shared. She wouldn’t be sharing with him anymore. She led him inside and then turned and locked the door.
Jesse stared ahead, not wanting to look back at her. “I know I fucked up.”
She moved around to stand in front of him, and there were tears in her eyes when she reached for him, her hands cupping his face as she stared up. “I will not let him hurt you. Do you understand me?” She wrapped her arms around him and suddenly he was held tight. “I won’t ever let him hurt you. God, Jesse, he’s here. I talked to him, didn’t I? That’s what Ten said. It was the only reason you would do that. I won’t let him get near you. I promise. You’re safe, Jesse. You’re safe.”
It took him a moment to take in her words, to understand that he wasn’t being rejected. He was being pulled close. Her feminine body offering protection and comfort to his masculine one. He’d fucked up and she was promising to take care of him.
She was crying for him.
He let go, not of her, never of her. He let go of the idea that it was wrong to cry. He wouldn’t do it in public or with his friends. But he could with her. She was safety and affection and acceptance.
A shudder went through his body and he let himself cry because he’d thought the nightmare was over, because it had never really gone away until this moment when she began to take some of the burden from him.
He laid his head on her shoulders, finally safe in her arms.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Phoebe sighed as she stepped out of the room the next morning. Ten was on her immediately, as though he’d waited all night for the chance. He might have. He might have paced outside her bedroom door all night long, waiting for the shot at taking a hunk out of her flesh. He’d probably listened, trying to hear if they were fighting or fucking.
They’d done neither. She’d held him and then they’d gone to bed, his head on her breast, his arms wound around her.
He’d needed intimacy the night before. He’d needed to know she was there with him.
“Good morning.” The best way to deal with Ten was to brazen through. If she gave him a moment’s weakness, he would pounce like the predator he was. She nodded in his direction and then walked straight toward the coffee, letting her nose lead the way.
Ten followed, hard on her heels. “Good morning? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Nope. I’m being an optimist this morning.” It wasn’t true. She was sick to her stomach because she knew the op was almost over and so was her time with Jesse.
Unless he meant what he’d said and he really could forgive her. She wasn’t sure she could risk it. It might be better to know he still cared about her than to risk everything and lose it all. Maybe they could still see each other. She would have her work and he would have his and they could spend their free time together.
Because a week or two a year was better than nothing, right? Until he found the woman who wasn’t too damaged and he got married and had kids. Yeah, it would be great.
“Damn it, Phoebe. Do you understand what happened last night?” Ten followed her into the living area of th
e suite where a long table had been set with a buffet overflowing with fruit and yogurt and eggs, small pastries, and even a row of perfectly made crepes with whipped cream.
She just poured a cup of coffee. She didn’t really have much of an appetite. “I understand that Jesse had to face something most of us can’t even conceive.”
“He completely lost it.”
“Maybe, but I think in this case, it’s understandable. He heard that voice again. It was the voice that did it.” They hadn’t talked about it, just held on to each other, but it was the only thing that made sense. Phoebe had been well aware of where the camera was, but any subtle attempts to turn them had been rebuffed by the very elegant Mr. al Fareed.
Even when she hadn’t realized who he was, he’d scared her. Not in a run and hide sense, but she’d known he was a predator. Her instincts had flared the minute he stepped in her way.
It was in his face. He was actually an attractive man when she considered his features on a separate basis. He had everything it took to be quite handsome. Until she got to the eyes. His eyes were flat. Obsidian and flat, like a reptile’s. She’d seen those eyes in a crocodile or a shark. They held no hint of humanity or compassion. No humor.
Ten sighed and sank down into one of the chairs. It was easy to see the toll the last few days had taken on him. “Yeah. At least I think so. One minute I was watching you and the next he was taking off. Tell me it wasn’t as bad as it looked on the monitors.”
She wished she could. “The good news is it was contained to the back of the ballroom. He didn’t get very far in, but at least a third of the people there were well aware something odd was happening.”
“Then everyone knows.”
The gossip would spread very quickly. “Probably.” There was an upside to this particular clusterfuck. “It’s all right, Ten. Jesse needs to stay up here now. We should keep him out of the line of sight. We know who our target is. Now the rest of us gather intel on the al Fareed brothers.”