The Princess And The Mercenary

by Victoria Paige

  Paralyzing fear seized him. Not for himself, but for her. He knew instinctively it was General Boustari. He’d already sent a warning to Kade about carrying out the mission to precision.

  Another thought occurred to him. What if the attack last night had nothing to do with the chemical weapons and Nasir, but was really about Denton and what he had on them? Did they know Denton was sending information to Yara?

  He spun on her, teeth bared, finger jabbing in her direction. “Did you even stop to think how dangerous it is to have images like that on your person when we’re heading into Yemen?”

  “I was going to erase it.”

  “Do it now,” he clipped.

  “But I haven’t looked through them … hey!”

  He grabbed her phone from her fingers. It was still unlocked, so Kade brought up the email app. He scanned the ones from the reporter, nothing about Boustari, but he wasn’t going to risk anything.

  “Delete everything from Denton.” He returned the phone to her and prowled around the room and hunted for her backpack where he knew she kept her laptop. Finding it in the back of a closet, he took it out and laid it on the desk and powered it up.

  “Password.”

  Yara glared at him but did as she was told.

  “Do you have anything from him on this?”

  “Old emails.”

  “Any correspondence from him or saved files. Delete them.”

  Shaking her head, Yara brought up the directory where she’d downloaded some pictures. “Aren’t you overreacting? We’re not even in Yemen.”

  “It’s better to overreact than to see you dead.”

  “Dead? What are you talking about?”

  “You’re carrying information from a journalist who’s been publishing exposés about the Saudi monarchy. Are you certain no one is following him? Hacking his emails?” Kade exhaled in frustration. “It’s my fault. I knew he was trouble. Should have barred him from the press conference before we left.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered. He was waiting for me outside my apartment the day we left.”

  Kade muffled a curse. This was quickly becoming a clusterfuck. Chances were General Boustari knew Yara was in communication with Denton. The question was what damaging information the reporter had on the general, but he loathed risking Yara by having her reach out to Denton and ask for it. Kade would find out himself. Starting with Garrison.

  “What did he say?”

  “He spoke of Nasir, how I can probably open a dialogue with him and, if I have this evidence, maybe it would be enough for him to step down and have Tariq take over.”

  “And the Saudi general?”

  “He said it was too risky.”

  “On that,” Kade said, pointing a finger at her. “I agree.”

  “But if I can make a difference …”

  “What difference more do you want to make?” he growled. “You’re already bringing a shit ton of aid into the country.”

  “You heard Denton’s argument. More aid is not enough.”

  “Screw Denton’s argument.”

  “But I’m seeing what he meant. If the country has a corrupt government—”

  “Not your problem.”

  “I have the leverage, the visibility to bring this information to the UN, and maybe—”

  “Too dangerous.” His voice rose.

  “But people are dying,” she yelled. “Nothing is enough. It’s already too late for many of them and we’re three or four days away from getting aid to anyone. I can’t just stand here and do nothing. Besides …” Her voice faltered and their eyes locked.

  “Besides what?” he snarled.

  “I trust you to protect me,” she whispered.

  Something sharp twisted in Kade’s chest. It was like a knife had stabbed him and excavated his heart.

  Guilt, frustration, lust, and the way she was looking at him now, with hope like he was a damned superhero, kindled a strange emotion he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

  “Yara.”

  “I need you.”

  12

  Hard lips crashed down on hers. Yara clawed at his shirt, freeing it from his cargos, their lips momentarily disconnecting to help him discard the tee over his head. Their lips slammed together again in a frantic kiss, teeth clashing, tongues seeking, and Yara felt the cool caress of the air conditioner as buttons of her top went flying along with all semblance of rational thought.

  Kade shuffled her against the bed and she was falling, landing on the soft mattress. Fingers reached for her pants, and off they came, leaving her in her panties. Kade’s weight fell on top of her, fingers digging into her hair, and he was kissing her again, tongue sinking into her mouth in a hungry exploration. He rocked his lower body from side to side until her legs opened and cradled him, the length of his erection pressing against her pussy. The kiss went on and on, and it felt like she would die from the desperate need to be filled.

  Yara pulled her lips away, frustrated she was still wearing her panties. “Take it off.”

  Inky blue eyes gleamed down at her. “Uh-uh. Gonna give you a good tongue-fucking, Tink.”

  Wetness pooled at her core with his dirty words. He showered kisses at her jaw, down her neck, he swirled his tongue around what she felt was her tattoo. Fingers dragged down the cup of her bra and a hot mouth closed over her breast, laying claim to her nipple.

  “Kade!” Her back arched at the exquisite pleasure that electrified her body just in the way he ravaged and worshipped the sensitive tip.

  Then he went lower, dragging his lips down her belly, the rasp of his stubble adding raw anticipation, and then he was at her core. Kissing her through her panties, rimming its edges with his tongue, his fingers slipped in and separated her folds. “You’re fucking wet. Always so wet for me, Tink.” Her panties disappeared and his mouth dipped back between her thighs and the first stroke of his tongue up her slit sent her hips bucking.

  “Don’t stop,” she moaned. Her legs were over Kade’s shoulders and he was spreading her wider, feasting, tasting and licking before latching on to that sensitive bundle of nerves and Yara’s pussy skyrocketed into exquisite pulses. “Kade! Oh god, don’t stop … oh …”

  She shamelessly rode his mouth and he hungrily devoured her offering much like a starved man eating his last meal. Yara’s orgasm climbed and pulsated in endless pleasure and just when she thought it was over, another stronger wave took her to the edge.

  He pressed the heel of his hand on the sensitive mound, prolonging her shuddering release. Afterward, he climbed up her body, taking her mouth once more, this time gentle and exploring. She was ready to be filled, anticipation flayed her skin, the neediness of her core seeking the promise of his big cock.

  But instead of spreading her open and thrusting into her, Kade rolled on his back and tucked her to his side.

  “Uh … what?” she mumbled, confused. Not again!

  He clenched her closer.

  “Kade …?”

  “Shh …” His fingers trailed up and down her shoulder. That was nice, but she wanted his dick.

  Like right now.

  Unless …

  “I’m sensing a trend here …” she started. “I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

  A rumble shook his chest. “You didn’t like the way I went down on you?” She heard the smirk in his voice.

  “I liked that part,” she groused. He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Okay, I loved it.”

  “But …?”

  “Where’s the follow-through?”

  She tried to extricate herself from his grip, so she could stare into his eyes, but he held on tight. Giving up, she snuggled closer and then a thought hit her. “Do you have a problem?”

  He sighed. “I’m working through it.”

  Her heart broke. They were both quiet for a while. She couldn’t find the words. It was so tragic.

  Yara tried to move away from Kade again and, this time, he let her. She pushed up on an elbow and stared
at him sympathetically.

  His brows drew together as he shifted both arms behind his head, cradling it. Her eyes took in the intricate tattoos on his muscled chest, tracked down his abs, to the iliac furrow revealed in his low-slung cargos. Then her gaze moved to the outline of his magnificent erection.

  What travesty.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I can help. I’m good with my mouth.”

  His eyes gleamed. “Can’t wait to feel that glorious mouth wrapped around my cock.”

  Her eyes lit up. “So, you can come that way?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Pretty sure most guys can.”

  “Is it only through the actual sex act that you have a problem?”

  Kade’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about?”

  “I mean, I asked if you have a problem and you said you were working through it.”

  His eyes widened before he burst into laughter. Kade did an ab crunch and grabbed her, held her to his chest, laughing like she’d never heard him laugh before.

  “Erectile dysfunction shouldn’t be funny,” she grumbled, but she was secretly pleased to hear his bark of laughter. He was devastatingly handsome outside his RDF.

  “Tink, I can get it up just fine.” A finger swiped at his eye.

  “I know you can. I can see”—she paused matter-of-factly—“that you can. But can you maintain one?”

  “Yeah.” His body was still shaking.

  “Then why the hell are we not having sex?” She shoved him.

  “Because it’ll distract me. And we’re leaving for Yemen soon. We need to keep it professional.”

  “Oh, so I guess going down on me is professional?”

  He sighed. “I’ll have to stop doing that until the mission is over.” He cast her a sullen look, like a child deprived of his favorite candy. “Then we can figure things out. Having sex with you will complicate things.”

  Wasn’t this her concern not even a few hours ago? Kade was this overwhelming force. His touch turned her brain to mush and she couldn’t think past his kisses, not to mention his talented tongue.

  An uneasy awareness swept through her, an awareness that Kade presented a danger not only to her mind but also her heart.

  Suddenly she was on her back and he was on top of her, his lower body weighing her down, both elbows propped, his large hands framing her face.

  “Don’t look like that,” he said softly. “I don’t regret what happened today.”

  “I don’t either,” she admitted. “But I’m realizing I can’t think straight when you touch me.”

  His stare was intense and, if his hands weren’t holding her face, she’d look away.

  “I was … comfortably numb,” he said slowly as if still figuring it out himself. “Obviously, you’ve blown that all to hell.”

  Shocked by his own admission, especially coming from a man like him, she blurted, “That’s good, right? You don’t want to be an unfeeling bastard for the rest of your life?”

  Kade puffed a self-derisive laugh, rolled off her and sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and studying his hands. “I’m not a good man, Yara. There are things … suffice it to say, I have blood on my hands. I can’t believe I let myself touch you.”

  “That’s not regret?”

  The heat in his eyes was scorching. “I need to keep my head in the game and I can’t do that if it’s buried between your thighs.”

  Her pussy clenched at his words. “You shouldn’t talk to me that way then.”

  “Can’t help it,” he groaned and jumped to his feet, facing her. “I’m finding myself a possessive son of a bitch when it comes to you.” He looked frustrated. “But I can’t take that next step with you until I sort out my shit.”

  “Next step?”

  “Be your man.” He looked away from her, muttering under his breath and shaking his head. “I can’t claim you publicly because I’ll have to remove myself as your bodyguard. That’s Executive Protection 101, but I’ll be damned if I let anyone else get this close to you.” He glared at her. “Knowing your penchant for prancing around in your robe.”

  “I was really teasing you, you know,” Yara said dryly.

  “We keep this professional for the next three weeks,” he declared.

  All she could do was nod, relieved and thankful he was taking the lead in controlling this crazy attraction between them, because Yara certainly had trouble putting the brakes on it.

  He rearranged his face to all business and she knew their moment had passed. “We better head back downstairs before anyone notices we’re missing.”

  “So, how are we going to play this?” she asked brightly.

  Kade frowned. “Act normal.”

  “No kissing in public?” she couldn’t help teasing.

  “Professional, Yara,” he muttered.

  She snickered. “Oh, yeah, right.”

  He chuckled and leaned over, cupping her cheeks, and giving her a quick hard kiss. “Hard to settle for just a kiss. I’d end up dragging you to a dark corner and fucking you against the wall.”

  “Hmm.” Her lips tipped up. “You haven’t fucked me yet.”

  “Stop tempting me, Tink,” he warned.

  “So, how are we playing this again?” She batted her eyes.

  Kade laughed, dragged her from the bed and swatted her ass.

  “Get moving,” he ordered.

  Yara felt his command go straight to her pussy.

  13

  Tariq Haddad stood on the tarmac of the Saudi coalition private hangar that was sectioned off from the Aden International Airport. He was darker than Yara remembered him from their years at Leeds. His dark eyes lit with pleasure when he spotted her at the top of the plane’s steps, the confident strides on his tall form that were fluid in a suit were just as fluid in the traditional robes he wore today. She faltered on the steps, then laughed.

  “Don’t go breaking your neck now, sunshine,” Tariq drawled. His arms hung loose at his sides as he watched her descend the short clam-shell stairs.

  Her face hurt from controlling a grin and she resisted the urge to jump into his arms. In most Muslim cultures, it was forbidden for a man to hug a woman who wasn’t his wife. Cameras flashed as reporters covered the story and a scattering of soldiers in white and green fatigues and wearing berets surrounded the plane. “Still gorgeous as ever,” Tariq said, placing a hand over his chest in greeting.

  Yara smiled wide. “And still as handsome as a sheik.”

  Tariq rolled his eyes but flashed her a rakish grin. Whipcord lean and blessed with strong angular features and thick-lashed almond eyes, Yara teased him of his heartthrob status when he played for the University of Leeds rugby team and left a trail of broken hearts when he was recalled to Yemen.

  Tariq’s brow arched at the group behind her. Kade Spear—his whole team actually—was hard to ignore.

  Yara made quick introductions. Hands were shaken and chins lifted. Yara wished she could tuck her arm into Tariq’s and catch up with her friend, but instead, they had to do this formal walk to the waiting Mercedes limo.

  “I have to head back to the council meeting and dinner today,” Tariq said regretfully. “We can catch up in the car before I drop you off.”

  “Oh, you shouldn’t have interrupted your duties to pick me up,” Yara said.

  A firm hand gripped her elbow and she turned to look at Kade, whose face was set in harsh lines.

  “You really shouldn’t have, Mr. Haddad,” he told her friend before nodding to the line of Land Cruisers idling beside the Benz. “That’s our ride.”

  Tariq’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “She’s perfectly safe with me.”

  “I’ll decide what’s safe or not,” Kade clipped.

  “I apologize, Tariq. My security is very strict.” Yara’s face burned with embarrassment, but she didn’t want to cause a scene by arguing with Kade.

  “I understand, sunshine. I’ll call you tomorrow?” Tariq’s gaze sharpened, an
d his jaw clenched. He wasn’t usually this agreeable, but with the Yemeni press, his rebel security as well as Saudi coalition forces looking on, he had to avoid a pissing contest with the security team of much-needed humanitarian aid.

  Yara fumed as she got into the SUV. Kade followed her in, while Max lumbered into the passenger seat.

  “The NGO compound?” Their driver looked local, with his olive skin and distinctly Middle Eastern features, but his English was decidedly American.

  “Yup,” Max answered. Their vehicle moved through the airport gates and merged onto a highway. Billboards with images of politicians hung from the streetlights giving visitors an idea of the ongoing power struggle.

  “Any updates on when the shipment will arrive?” Max asked.

  “It arrived a few hours ago,” their driver said.

  “The ERAF cargo?” Yara asked, perplexed, not quite sure she heard the driver right. And why the hell didn’t they introduce him?

  “Yes.” The man’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “You guys told me Wednesday. You all need to get your intel straight. Good thing I know how these guys operate.”

  “We got the info from ERAF.” Max cast a disapproving look at Yara.

  “Jeff forwarded the manifest from Mom to me,” she protested, quickly checking her phone to see if there were any missed emails. Jeff had final sign-off on the logistics side of aid shipments since he knew more about maritime laws given his mining business in Africa.

  “Is this a common occurrence?” Kade asked quietly.

  “Not at all,” she replied. “Uncle Jeff usually handles this but his health has been problematic lately, so Mom pitched in since she was already in Europe and is familiar with the process. Is the cargo still at the docks?”

  “Yes. Last I checked, it’s scheduled for a customs inspection.”

  “Without an ERAF rep?”

  Nobody replied. Yara turned to Kade. “Can we go to the port?” She checked her phone for any calls from her mom or Jeff.