Millions To Spare

Chapter Thirteen

Two hours later, Harrison breathed a sigh of relief as the returning chopper put down on the sand outside the oasis.

The passenger door opened, and Ahmed’s brother hopped out, ducking his head against the rotors and the swirling sand. He quickly crossed to Harrison, handing him a diplomatic pouch.

Harrison shouted his thanks, then signaled for Julia to come out of the small house near the landing site where she had waited with Ahmed. She’d changed into plainer clothes, but her makeup was still heavy, and her hands were patterned with henna dye.

With a quick glance around the town for any danger, he took her hand and they dashed across the sand to the chopper.

Harrison helped her into the backseat, then climbed in next to the pilot and signaled for the man to take off.

Ahmed’s family had insisted that Julia keep the wedding jewelry. In return, Harrison had left the keys to the Jeep for Ahmed.

As they pulled toward the blue sky, Harrison broke the seal on the pouch. He extracted Julia’s new passport and handed it back to her.

The relief on her face did his heart good. They’d succeeded. She’d be safe now.

She opened the book and looked down at her new name, and a flash of unease went through her eyes. He was reminded she was safe at a cost. He reached back to squeeze her knee.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assured her.

As he turned to face forward, his glance caught the pilot’s profile beneath his helmet.

The man was missing the tip of his nose.

Fear instantly gripped Harrison’s gut, even as he struggled to keep his features impassive. Could Rafiq have betrayed them?

Muwaffaq would either kill them in midair-two bodies in the midst of the desert would probably never be found. Or he’d fly them somewhere to question Julia. If the people he worked for thought she had information they wanted, they might try to torture it out of her.

He glanced back at her, his conscience burning with regret. In an effort to save Julia, he might have just signed her death warrant.

She squinted a look of confusion at the change in his expression, but he didn’t dare try to signal anything. His only advantage was that Muwaffaq didn’t know he was onto him. Besides, there was nothing to be gained by panicking Julia.

He sifted through his options.

If he tried to overpower the man, he could easily bring down the chopper. And Muwaffaq was probably armed.

If they landed, he’d have a better chance of overpowering him. But if they landed where Muwaffaq had planned, where reinforcements would certainly meet the chopper, he and Julia would have no chance at all.

He couldn’t risk that.

Whatever he did had to happen in midair.

Adrenaline pumped through his system in time with the throbbing of the engine. He rested his hand in his lap, surreptitiously clicking open the metal buckle on his seat belt.

He painstakingly freed his arm, while making and discarding plans of attack.

But then Muwaffaq caught his movement, and his time was up.

Harrison gave a yell and elbowed Muwaffaq in the center of the throat.

The man’s eyes bugged out, and he gasped a breath, his hands reflexively going for the injury.

“Harrison!” Julia cried out from the backseat as the chopper tilted and the engine whined.

Harrison flipped open the man’s seat-belt buckle, then stretched to close his hands over the controls. He hadn’t flown in at least a year, but all other options had meant certain death.

“Drag him back,” he shouted to Julia, stuffing his feet on top of Muwaffaq’s, scrambling to get some semblance of control over the tail rotor.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, even as she wiggled out of her own seat belt to follow his instructions.

Muwaffaq was gasping for breath. If he recovered from the blow, all hell would break loose.

As Julia clambered between the seats, she got a look at the man’s nose.

She hesitated for a split second, and Muwaffaq took the opportunity and grabbed her by the throat.

Harrison was barely keeping them airborne. He didn’t dare let go of the controls, but Julia was struggling and coughing.

He elbowed Muwaffaq again, this time catching him in the solar plexus.

The man’s grip loosened enough that Julia pulled free and rocketed into the backseat.

“Shit,” Harrison spat out, as Muwaffaq began to fight back.

He risked lifting a foot from the pedals and kicked at the man.

Muwaffaq grunted, and Harrison kicked again.

Then the helicopter door popped open.

Julia screamed.

Harrison gasped.

And Muwaffaq went tumbling into midair, his arms and legs flailing as he plummeted toward the dunes.

Harrison flopped into the pilot’s seat, stabilized the aircraft, then slammed the door shut.

His breathing was labored, and his hands were shaking.

It took him a minute to get them flying straight.

When she finally spoke, Julia’s voice was shaking, barely a rasp. “Is he dead?”

“Our altitude is five hundred feet.”

“Then I guess he’s dead.”

Harrison didn’t dare turn his attention to the backseat. “I’m more concerned about you. Are you all right?”

“I think so.”

“Did he hurt your neck?”

“A little. I think it’s bruised.”

“Are there any sharp pains?”

“No.”

Harrison breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll have you home soon.”

“You know how to fly this thing?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “If I didn’t know how to fly this thing, we’d have hit the ground a long time ago.”

She didn’t answer, but he thought he heard the rustle of her nod.

“You sure you’re all right?” he asked again. It was very likely she was in shock. If so, he wanted to keep her talking. And it was probably a good idea for him to keep himself talking, too.

“We just killed somebody,” she said, horror and awe in her voice.

“No. Somebody tried to kill us. We defended ourselves.”

“Is that a crime in the UAE?”

“You planning to confess to someone?”

She didn’t answer.

“He was a very bad man, Julia. His body may never be found. And it’s in our best interest that whoever he worked with not know we had anything to do with his death. Understand?”

Her voice was still shaking. “I guess.”

He nodded to the other front seat. “Can you climb up here?”

“I’ll try.”

It took her a minute to maneuver her way between the two seats, but Harrison felt better once he could see her.

“Do up your seat belt.”

She stared at him for a second, and then a weak laugh sputtered out of her.

“Safety first?” she asked in an incredulous voice, then she laughed harder.

Harrison couldn’t help but grin in response. “You were great, by the way”

“Me?” she asked, pointing to her chest. “You were amazing. You can fly a helicopter. You beat up bad guys. And you married me and got me a great passport. I may have to be your slave for life.”

“Deal,” he said, without missing a beat.

She gestured toward him. “See that? You’re funny, too.”

“Who says I was joking?”

She hiccuped out a final laugh.

“Do up your seat belt,” he told her again. The last thing he wanted was to have her whack her head because they hit some rough air.

“What about you?” she asked, but dutifully did up the buckle.

“Now you can do up mine.”

She leaned over and fastened the clasp around his hips, her hand brushing his lap, practically making him leap out of the seat. He’d heard danger heightened a man’s libido, and he guessed he now knew it was true.

By the time Harrison put the helicopter down on the grounds at Cadair, the sun had turned to an orange ball, sinking its way into the ocean. He flipped some switches and the motor went silent.

Julia tried to rally herself in the passenger seat. She was exhausted. She’d been through every emotion possible over the past two days, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide from the world.

But that was impossible. She still had to get out of the country, the sooner the better.

Before she could undo her seat belt, someone yanked open the passenger door, and she found herself looking into Nuri’s strained face. She could swear the man looked pale.

“You are all right?” he asked, as if he actually cared. Then his attention jumped to Harrison and back again.

Harrison nodded. “We’re okay.”

“We found the real pilot. In a bathroom at the hangar.” Nuri paused and glanced at Julia. “He was unconscious.”

“I’m glad he isn’t dead,” said Harrison, releasing his own seat belt, then reaching over to undo Julia’s.

She groaned as she moved forward in the seat. Her muscles were stiff, and her throat was still sore.

“You were not harmed?” asked Nuri, offering his hands to assist her. He didn’t touch her, waiting for her to touch him instead.

When she placed her hands in his, his grasp was firm and sure. She stepped carefully down to the ground.

“There was a struggle,” said Harrison, exiting the chopper and making his way around to Julia.

Nuri kept hold of her hands, and she realized he was staring at them. She glanced down and remembered the henna designs. She looked to Harrison, realizing that Nuri would understand what the designs symbolized.

Harrison took over from Nuri, his arm going firmly around her shoulders, and Nuri released her hands.

“Have the police been called?” Harrison asked.

Nuri shook his head. “We did not know what to tell them.”

“Good. There’s nothing to tell.”

“And the man who took the helicopter?”

“We left him behind.”

Nuri took one more glance at Julia’s hand, then he nodded.

“Not a lot about this trip is worth discussing,” said Harrison.

“I understand completely.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll take care of the helicopter.”

“Take care of the man who was hurt, as well.”

“Yes, sir,” said Nuri.

Harrison turned to Julia and they started toward the palace. “Are you bribing that man to stay quiet?” she asked. A week ago she might have minded, but at the moment a bribe was perfectly okay by her.

“I’m taking care of his medical bills,” said Harrison.

“Oh.” She regretted that the question had made her sound suspicious.

Her legs grew more steady as they headed up the stone pathway that led to one of the side doors of the palace.

“And anything else his family needs,” Harrison continued.

They walked a little farther in silence.

“So, yeah,” said Harrison. “I guess you could say I’m bribing him to keep him quiet.”

Harrison was using the special privileges of the rich. He was bribing people to keep her safe. In a bizarre way, it warmed her heart.

“Thank you,” she told him. “One more time.”

Harrison gave her a squeeze. “That’s what husbands do. Let’s go up the back way. And you can get some sleep.”

“What about getting out of the country?”

“We’ll take care of that tomorrow. Do you want the same room?”

She hesitated, not ready to leave Harrison just yet. He’d come to represent strength and security in a world that was completely off-kilter. She was also still worried about the police. And she was more than a little rattled by the altercation in the helicopter.

“This is going to sound pathetic,” she told him, pausing at the bottom of the veranda stairs.

He waited.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

He gave her a teasing smile and smoothed her hair from her face. “Are you feeling sentimental about your wedding night?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m feeling afraid of the local thugs and the police.”

But deep down inside, she was feeling sentimental about her wedding night. Because, no matter what the language, she’d married Harrison today. It was his name on her passport, and they were bound in the eyes of the law.

She glanced down. She might not have a ring on her finger, but she did have the stamp of their wedding all over her hands.

“It will wash off in a couple of weeks,” he told her.

“Fitting,” she mused. “Most women get a diamond that lasts forever.”

“You want a diamond?”

She glanced up. “That would be silly.”

And it would make more of this than there was. As soon as she was out of the country, either she or Harrison would start divorce proceedings. Six months from now, this would be nothing but a strange footnote in her life.

He gazed at her with a smirk and a challenging lift of his eyebrows. “So which will it be? In the name of protection, do you want me in your bed, or just in your room?”

Good question.

“Lord Rochester,” Leila’s voice sang as she appeared at the veranda rail. She pushed herself off and trotted down the stairs to greet them. “You are back.”

“We are back.”

“So all is well?” she asked, her expression worried.

“Yes. It is now.”

She smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“We’re tired,” said Harrison.

Leila reached for Julia’s hands.

And before Julia could hide them, Leila spotted the henna.

Her eyes went wide, and she stared at Harrison. “Brittany?”

“It’s complicated,” said Harrison.

Julia jumped in. “This keeping it a secret isn’t working out so well.”

Leila rapidly shook her head. “I will not tell a soul.”

“It’s temporary,” Julia explained. “Just until I get out of the country.”

Leila nodded, but her eyes were still wide.

“We can rely on your discretion?” Harrison asked in a stern voice, clearly driving home the point.

Leila bobbed her head.

He smiled at her. “Good. Can you help Julia with a bath?”

“Of course.”

Julia resisted an urge to reach for Harrison. Leila was fine company. She genuinely liked the girl. But she doubted Leila could fight off kidnappers or assassins should any of them sneak into the palace.

“I’ll come up later,” he said to Julia. “We can talk then.”

About whether or not to sleep together.

She supposed she should come up with her own answer to that question.

In her wildest dreams, Brittany never thought making love would last twelve hours.

She and Alex had barely left the bed all day long. They’d ordered room service a couple of times, and took a bath at one point, and now they were snuggled under the comforter. He was stroking her hair and telling her a story that was supposed to be about his first parachute jump. But, so far, they hadn’t made it past his tenth birthday.

“The race was the talk of the school,” said Alex.

His cell phone rang.

“Don’t you move,” he told her, kissing the tip of her nose.

She smiled in response. “Are you kidding? Before I find out how it ends?”

The phone rang again while he gazed at her with a goofy smile. Then he slipped from beneath the covers and tracked down his suit jacket, retrieving the chiming phone, his back toward her.

“Yeah?”

She stared unashamedly at the play of muscles across his shoulders, his taut buttocks and muscular legs.

“You’re back?” he said into the phone, lifting one of the hotel bathrobes and slipping into it.

“We’re in Abu Dhabi,” Alex said into the phone. “The Emirates Palace.”

Brittany sat up, pinning the comforter across her chest with her arms, trying to figure out who Alex would reveal that information to.

He turned to face her, and she raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Julia okay?” asked Alex, with a meaningful look at Brittany.

Harrison.

Alex was talking to Harrison.

A weight settled in the pit of Brittany’s stomach. Her soon-to-be fiancé had been fleeing through the desert on a rescue mission while she had been frolicking in bed with his employee.

Alex saw her expression and shook his head.

Ignoring him, she scrambled from the bed and stuffed her arms into the other robe. She scooped up her clothes and headed for the bathroom. But Alex grasped her arm on the way by and refused to let her go.

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” he said to Harrison.

She glared at him, trying to wrestle her arm free. But private-school phys-ed class was no match for navy basic training, and she didn’t gain an inch.

“You are?” he asked Harrison.

He finally let go of her arm, but it was only to wrap his own firmly around her waist and jerk her against him. She didn’t dare yell, didn’t dare utter a word, but that didn’t stop her from kicking her heel into his shin.

“I’ll talk to you then,” said Alex.

Brittany twisted her head to glare at him.

“Glad to hear it,” said Alex.

Then he flipped the phone shut.

She wrenched against him. “I don’t believe you did that!”

His arm remained firmly around her waist, holding her back against his chest. “Where were you going?”

“To get dressed.”

His tone was implacable. “You agreed to stay put.”

“That’s before you started talking to Harrison.”

“So what?”

“I’m supposed to lie there naked in your bed with my fiancé on the phone?”

“He’s not your fiancé.”

“We have an understanding.” Well, they sort of had an understanding. She presumed they had an understanding.

If there wasn’t an understanding, why had Harrison invited her to Dubai in the first place?

“We agreed you were free,” said Alex.

“We hung our consciences on a technicality.”

“Yes, we did. And we can’t put your virginity back, and I’m still quitting my job in the morning. The only thing we have to decide, Brittany, is whether we spend one last night together or alone.”

“Alone,” she asserted.

He was silent.

Then his warm lips touched the crook of her neck.

“You sure?” he whispered, all trace of frustration gone from his tone. His hand splayed against her stomach.

“Yes.” She nodded.

He nibbled his way up her neck, drawing her earlobe into his mouth.

Despite herself, she felt her body respond to his gentle touch.

“Really sure?” he rumbled in her ear.

“Really sure,” she responded, but it came out on a sigh.

He smoothed her hair back from her temple and placed a kiss there. “Because it won’t change a thing.”

“I know,” she agreed. They couldn’t undo the day. And she couldn’t undo her feelings. Alex had been a magical lover-funny, patient and gentle. She never would have imagined it of him.

But the day was over. She had a life to go back to, and that life included her family, traditions, responsibilities and Harrison.

“I’m not asking you to make love again,” Alex told her, releasing her and gently turning her to face him. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and there was something vulnerably earnest in his expression. “I only want you to sleep in my arms.”

Emotion tightened her chest, and she fought it with all her might.

“He gets you forever,” Alex whispered. “Give me this one night.”

Brittany’s heart all but melted.

She gave in and nodded.

Then she nodded harder, wanting it every bit as much as he did.

He scooped her into his arms and crossed to the bed.

He laid her down, then climbed in beside her, sliding her, spoon style, against the warmth of his body.

They lay there quietly for a few minutes. She forced herself to stay in the moment. There was no yesterday, no tomorrow, just now and Alex, the hum of the ceiling fan and the softness of the bed that cocooned them in a fantasy.

“Finish your story?” she asked him.

“The lawn mower,” he said, picking up where he’d left off. “In my dad’s garage. If we wanted to win the go-kart race, my older brother, Jacob, and I needed four wheels and an internal combustion engine.”

“You turned your father’s lawn mower into a go-kart?”

“Not exactly.”

Brittany breathed a little sigh of relief. The worst she’d done as a child was steal the foil-and-chocolate decorations from the Christmas tree.

“We built a wood and scrap-metal frame, bolted on the wheels and connected a belt drive to the lawn mower engine. I thought it was fine, but Jacob insisted we needed more torque if we were going to beat those Brubaker boys.”

“What’s torque?”

“Power. So we disassembled the rototiller. Man, that did the trick. That puppy was fast.”

“Weren’t you scared of your parents?”

He rested his chin against the top of her head. “We had it all planned. Dad mowed the lawns on Sunday. We’d race Saturday morning, reassemble everything that afternoon, and nobody’d be any the wiser.”

“Did it work?”

Alex chuckled. “Does it sound to you like it would work?”

“How would I know? Forget about torque, I’ve never seen a rototiller.”

“It didn’t work,” said Alex.

Even though it was years in the past, Brittany felt her stomach tense with nervous anticipation.

“The good news is, we won the trophy. Got that baby up to fifteen miles an hour.”

She couldn’t help but grin at the pride that was evident in his voice all these years later. “And the bad news?”

“By ten o’clock on Saturday night, we realized we’d misplaced a few of the lawn mower and rototiller parts. My mom realized we weren’t in bed. And my dad realized he needed to teach us a lesson.”

Brittany cringed. “Ouch.”

“Ouch is right. But it was still worth it. We were boys. We accepted spankings as the cost of having fun. Besides, the go-kart was nothing compared to our next project.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“We decided to try parachuting off the roof.”

“Did your parents by any chance insist that you join the navy?”

“They thought it would improve my moral fiber.”

“And did it?”

“Not really, but it was a whole lot of fun.”

“Fun?” Brittany had seen enough movies to know the military wasn’t fun.

“Basic training was a piece of cake. There wasn’t anything a drill sergeant could do or say that my dad and older brother hadn’t been doing my entire life. And, after we got through basic, they let us blow things up, run obstacle courses and learn to use high-tech equipment. I thought I’d died and gone to adventure camp.”

Brittany found herself smiling. “I am so glad I’m not having your children.”

He went silent, and she immediately cringed.

Then she flipped onto her back to look up at him. “That was thoughtless. I’m sorry.”

He brushed a lock of hair from her face, his expression teasing rather than hurt. “I have a feeling you’d balance me out, Miss Pure-As-The-Driven-Snow.”

“Not anymore,” she reminded him, the memory suddenly blooming in her brain.

“No,” he agreed, his smile disappearing. “Not anymore.”

She was overcome with the desire to kiss him.

He obviously saw it in her eyes, because he leaned down, and his lips softly met her own, sweet, tender, so full of life and excitement.

Just here and now, she told herself. That was all they’d ever have.