“I don’t like this,” Jade muttered as they stood on the edge of the Casper airport tarmac. “I think we need a decoy. I’ll go...”
“No,” Zafir cut her off. “I’ll go.”
“We’ll all go together,” Stanley broke in. “It makes the most sense.”
Jade and Zafir looked at each other. Stanley was full of surprises these last hours, showing intelligence, a touch of courage and a modicum of common sense. He wasn’t quite the man they had first assessed him to be.
“Let’s move,” Jade said as she began striding out onto the tarmac with Stanley behind her and Zafir bringing up the rear. But as she turned, scanning the area, making sure that everything was clear both in front and behind, she could feel something was off.
A movement near a luggage cart had her pulling Stanley close, her other hand on her gun. She wasn’t ready to make an overt show of force, not here at the airport. That would be asking for trouble.
A movement to the right, and she could also see airport authorities moving around. No one was acting like there was any threat.
A luggage transporter moved slowly around a plane that idled on the tarmac. Seconds ticked by, and it was a full minute, then two, before either of them agreed to give Stanley the go-ahead. And as they did, a bag fell off a luggage cart, followed by three more. The noise made Stanley jump, and Zafir pushed past them so that he was in front, his hand ready to go for his gun. Jade grabbed Stanley, pulling him back between them. But it was nothing but what it seemed—falling luggage. There was no threat.
They were seeing danger everywhere.
Chapter Eighteen
“I never thought that I’d get a chance to work in Morocco,” Jade murmured. “I’d hoped, but... I suppose I wanted to arrive under better circumstances. I mean, a case, yes, but... Oh, never mind. I’m rambling.”
“You’re excited. It’s refreshing,” Zafir said.
They were already three hours into the last leg of the flight, having landed briefly at JFK before continuing their journey overseas. It would be close to eleven in the morning before they landed in Marrakech.
Stanley had fallen asleep an hour ago.
“What if his brother is exactly that, dead?” she mused, talking quietly on the off chance that Stanley might awaken.
“I’ve got Tara checking out the next living relative. Stan wasn’t too sure about the cousins on his father’s side.” He scrolled through his texts as his phone beeped. Five minutes later they had their answer.
“Barring the possibility of his brother’s death being faked, the next in line is an unmarried cousin who hasn’t set foot in Morocco in at least a decade.”
“And...”
“From all appearances he has more money than he needs. He’s enjoying a lavish lifestyle, and his main residence is in Paris.”
“Interesting,” she said, and they were silent, each mulling over this new possibility as the plane took them through the night of one continent and into the daylight of another.
“I don’t like the thought of you in the thick of this,” Zafir said.
“It’s what I do,” she replied. “Just like any other agent.”
But his eyes said something else. She couldn’t look away. It seemed the most natural thing when he leaned over and put a strong, sun-bronzed hand on her knee. It was too soon and too intimate, but despite that, something shifted between them.
His brown eyes were hot with desire. He looked over at Stanley. “If it wasn’t for—” one shoulder rose, indicating Stanley near the back of the plane stretched out on a small couch “—I’d make out...”
“Make out?” she whispered. No man she knew would have used such an outdated phrase in such a teasing, yet tantalizing way. “Are you...”
He leaned over and silenced her with a kiss as he pulled her tight against him. She could feel his arousal pushing against her, and all she wanted was to give in to every ounce of passion she had for him. But this wasn’t the place, not here on a plane with their client only yards away from them. It couldn’t happen, and she wanted so badly for it to happen.
Her heart pounded, and something deep inside wanted only to melt into him. Her mind screamed to pull away. It couldn’t be—this was the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong man.
She put her hands on his shoulder, creating a suggestion of distance between them.
“Jade.”
“No.” She shook her head. For as much as she wanted him against her, as much as she wanted his lips ravishing hers, as much as she wanted all of it and more, she couldn’t. Again, she pushed him away.
This was crazy, unanticipated and completely out of control. She’d never felt like this about another man, and he was completely the wrong man to feel this about. She knew his reputation. His track record was a train wreck for any woman. She looked out the window where the only thing to see were clouds. They were no distraction at all. She had to get it together.
She didn’t want any of this. At least, that’s what she told herself. It was as if telling herself would control the feelings that were wild and difficult to contain. They were completely different from anything she’d felt with any other man.
He was like no man she’d ever known, even though he was an identical twin. She’d met Emir on one of his visits stateside. There was no comparison. For one, Zafir’s handsome face bore a scar that ran the length of his left cheekbone to his jaw. It did nothing to distract from his good looks, but it made him even more rugged-looking than his twin. But it went deeper than that. Zafir had an aura about him. He angered her like no other, and yet she felt physically safe in his presence and emotionally wrecked, for he was too hot, too passionate and altogether too dangerous.
He was proving all that now. Making her pulse with need, making her want to bridge the distance between them and pick up where she’d forced him to leave off—where she’d ended it. But it needed to be ended. It could never be. Her thoughts needed to straighten out. They were confusing and cloudy, almost dizzying. What was important was Stanley and his safety. They needed to secure him and make sure he was safe. What had just happened couldn’t happen again.
“Let’s go over our plan when we land,” she said, but her lips were sensitive from his brief kiss, even as her belly fluttered. She was aroused in a way she hadn’t been in a very long time. Her body was acting out of sync with her mind.
Zafir headed to the front of the plane, where he grabbed a bottled water for each of them from a compact fridge. He came back a few minutes later. His hand settled on her shoulder. “You’re hot,” he whispered in her ear.
His words, his nearness, had heat running through her. She wanted him. She needed to pull back.
“Like no woman I’ve ever met before.”
He slid into his seat and picked up the file as if he had said nothing at all.
She was a puddle of molten attraction, trying to regain control. She needed to rein it in, and apparently, she needed to rein him in, as well. And yet at the same time, she only wanted to fall into his arms and let nature take its course.
So much for reining anyone in.
She wasn’t sure how this would all turn out. When the assignment was over, would his feelings be gone? It was no secret that Zafir was a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy. His broken trail of romances was evidence enough of that.
“What’s with the look?” he asked.
His eyes were alive with desire. They seemed to take all of her in. If she said the word, if there were no Stanley—she knew exactly what they’d be doing on the butter-soft leather of a private airplane seat while they continued uninterrupted on their journey through the skies over the Atlantic.
Morocco.
Somehow that one word, a place where she’d never been and where she was about to land in just a few hours, brought reality slamming
back into focus like nothing else could.
She met his gaze with steely determination. This was it. This was business, nothing more.
The tablet dinged a warning that a message had arrived. It was the second call to reality.
Now, the passion was gone, and instead that dark drive to close this case successfully was there—a seriousness that replaced the passion in a split second. She turned her attention to the tablet, skimmed her thumb along the screen, looking at the latest information that had come from the admins in the main office in Marrakech. It was rather an enlightening piece of information.
He looked backward as if to ensure that, despite the snoring, Stanley wasn’t feigning sleep.
The plane hit a patch of turbulence and the interior cabin lights blinked.
“Fayad el Eloua, the only remaining nephew besides Stanley and one year younger, has just recently returned from Paris to Morocco.”
He looked up. “That’s interesting.”
“Could the possibility of an inheritance have brought him back?”
“The research says that he inherited his family’s wealth and lives a lavish lifestyle.” He looked up. “Tara passed it on for an investigation into his bank accounts. She doesn’t have the means to access something like that.”
“You don’t think...”
“Stanley’s brother was always a long shot,” he said. “But still can’t be discounted.”
The lights blinked, and the small silver communication box beside Zafir buzzed. He picked it up and nodded as he listened. A message from the pilot, Jade guessed, as she watched him receive whatever the message was through the earbud he was wearing.
“It’ll be rough for the next few minutes,” he reported to Jade while standing up to dim the lights over the still-sleeping Stanley. “He’s buckled in,” he said in a whisper. “Best get seat belts on ourselves.”
She looked over at Stanley. “He’s not used to what’s happened in such a short period of time. But he’s adapted amazingly well.”
“He has,” Zafir said, balancing easily as the plane jumped again before sliding into his seat and fastening his seat belt.
“We need the landing site secure,” Jade said. She wasn’t sure why she was stating the obvious.
Zafir ran a finger along her cheek, pushing a strand of hair back from her face, his touch velvety soft and hot. “It’s secure,” he said in a whisper that made his deep voice so gloriously seductive that it was impossible to focus on what he was actually saying.
She was doomed. Her growing feelings for him were impossible to put aside.
His dark eyes grazed lazily over her.
“What about my gun?” she asked, needing the distraction of something else.
“Royal sanction,” Zafir said. “Our agency is authorized as part of our doing business.”
He looked at her with surprise, as if accusing her of asking pointless questions for answers she already knew. He was right. She had been trying to divert the hot tingle of desire that was fudging her ability to think her way clearly through this case.
“We’re two hours from landing. That’s all the time we have to make sure the plan will be something we can get Stanley on board with,” Zafir said.
“That’s the key, isn’t it?” Jade murmured as she took a sip of water and glanced at Stanley, who had only changed position but was still sleeping soundly. “A plan that will keep Stanley safe and one he’s happy enough with to consider cooperating.”
“In any other situation an easy task,” Zafir said as he looked at her, this time with the passion of a challenge in his eyes. “But we’ve known that from the beginning.”
“Let’s do it, hit this thing with boots on the ground,” she said with relief, her mind finally on their mission.
“And a cooperative client,” Zafir said with a smile.
“And that,” she replied.
They worked together like they’d done it for years, and in the end what they came up with, there was no question that Stanley would cooperate. They both agreed that there was no way he could not be happy.
He would soon be in Morocco, with his uncle and his beloved rescue dogs.
Now they only had to keep him alive.
Chapter Nineteen
Zafir’s brother Talib was there to meet them at the Marrakech airport as they emerged into a private area.
“Good to see you, bro,” Talib said as he clapped Zafir on the shoulder. “You lucked out. Emir and I have been running back-to-back cases that have been keeping us in Marrakech. Otherwise, you would have been on your own.”
“Jade.” Talib turned to her before anyone else could say a word. He offered her a smile that was solid and genuine. “Good to see you on this side of the ocean.”
He held out his hand, which she shook warmly, and then he turned to Stanley, shaking his hand.
“I’m between cases,” Talib said, leading the way out of the airport. They moved through a private corridor that was closed to most passengers and outside to a private parking lot. “Just got back from checking out a hotel.”
“You’re going into the hotel business?” Zafir asked with a laugh.
“As if,” Talib said. “I’m trying to convince a friend of mine that it’s a bad idea. But he’s determined. If the deal goes through, he has me lined up to make sure the security is up to par.”
Zafir’s phone beeped.
“Your cousin Mohammed won’t be a threat to you again, Stan,” Zafir said a minute later.
“He’s dead,” Stanley said flatly.
Zafir nodded.
A look of relief washed over Stanley’s face, but it was fleeting. He looked at Zafir. “It was your gunshot?”
“Unfortunately, I believe so,” Zafir replied.
“Not unfortunate at all from all you’ve told me. He was no good.” He took a deep breath. “I have to go to Rabat immediately.”
“Your uncle’s estate,” Jade said. “That’s...”
“We’ll get you there.” Zafir cut her off with an edge of impatience in his voice.
Jade gave Zafir a quelling look. One minute he was turning her on and the next he was pissing her off. Right now she was getting tired of his take-charge attitude. She didn’t miss the amused look Talib gave them both.
“Now,” Stanley said, redirecting her attention to him as he stopped and put his suitcase down, as if that made some kind of statement.
She went over to Stanley and took the handle of his suitcase, preventing him from picking it up without wrestling it from her hand. “You trusted us in Wyoming?”
“Yes. But...”
“We’ve got your back, and we know you need to get to Rabat.” She looked at him and saw tears glistening in his eyes. “And we’ll get you there. But we’re going to make sure you’re safe in the process.”
“He’s the closest thing I have to a parent. There is no one else. What if he’s in danger?”
“He’s fine, and we’ll be there soon. This afternoon.”
Stanley picked up his suitcase. “Okay.” He nodded at Talib. “Let’s do this.”
A minute later they were getting into Talib’s Jaguar. “British Racing Green, that’s the color it’s called,” Zafir said with a laugh at her look of awe. He winked at her. “Talib loves luxury sport vehicles.”
“Not more than he loves speed,” Talib said, laughing. “Fasten your seat belt, folks.”
The car was luxury on wheels, and Talib flirted with speed limits as they made their way into the heart of Marrakech and the asylum that had once held Stanley’s brother.
Twenty minutes later, Talib rounded a corner and took them through a massive set of gates that looked like something out of the Middle Ages. The drive was wide and lined with palm trees, which made the whole approach ra
ther strange, like they were entering a resort.
The asylum was old. It was built on the edge of the medina, where ancient walls separated the city’s oldest neighborhood, once a vibrant trading center, with its narrow twisting streets, packed with vendors and shoppers, from the rest of the city. But despite the busyness of the area, the psychiatric hospital that had once been called an asylum stood alone on large grounds that gave it a feeling of isolation. It had been built at the turn of the twentieth century. Now the old facade remained, as well as the ten-foot wall of sun-bleached brick complete with a two-foot topping of barbed wire. It was a modern-day reminder of pain and suffering, but inside she knew that it had been completely changed. A fully modernized hospital now occupied the majority of the grounds.
The exterior, despite the fact that massive renovations had been done, was less inviting than a modern prison. The question that lay in all their minds was if Stanley’s brother, Chasi el Eloua, had left those walls alive or if he had died as claimed twenty-five years ago.
Stanley had his hands laced together, and his jaw was tense.
“You don’t have to go in,” Jade reminded him. “Talib will stay here with you.”
Stanley nodded, a grateful look on his face. “I’d prefer that,” he whispered. “I’ve never been inside, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I understand,” Jade said, and she did, for she was also feeling reluctant to enter this grim-looking facility. She’d never been a fan of hospitals, having seen her father in one as a child. He’d died in palliative care of a neurological disease that had taken two long, drawn-out years. It had left a lasting impression.
“In fact,” Zafir said, “why don’t we meet you in the medina.” He clapped his hand on Stanley’s shoulder. “Maybe you can find a gift for your uncle in one of the souks,” he said, referring to one of the numerous marketplaces within the walls of the medina. “I believe there’s a souk just a few blocks away.”
Stanley brightened. “It would take my mind off of this,” he said.
They waited until Talib and Stanley pulled away before heading toward the building.
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