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This made Numair relinquish any thoughts of restraint.
He grabbed Richard’s arm with a force that had broken lesser men’s arms. “Keep your realizations and theories to yourself, Cobra, and don’t even think of Jenan again.”
Richard’s eyes widened, with surprise not pain, the caustic derision disappearing from his expression, contemplative scrutiny descending in its place.
Then he grimaced. “By God, not you, too, Phantom.”
Numair knew exactly what Richard meant. Two of Numair’s brothers had already succumbed to what they’d all previously considered an ailment none of them was susceptible to. Love. Rafael had married the daughter of the man he’d thought had sold him to The Organization, and Raiden had married the woman who’d once been sent by his former handler to expose him.
But if there was anyone they’d all thought was 100 percent impervious to any emotions, let alone love, it was Numair. And his current companion, of course.
Richard said exactly that. “Besides me, you’re the literal last man on earth I expected to fall in love.”
If Richard expected him to deny it, to consider it a weakness he wouldn’t admit to anyone, most of all to his lifelong nemesis, he had another think coming. The moment he could, he’d shout it from the rooftops if need be. He’d made his peace with the life-changing realization.
He had fallen in love with Jenan.
But even that statement wasn’t accurate. He’d far more than fallen in love with her. He felt as if she’d become an extension of his being, the most vital part that he’d perish without. Dependence on someone else had been unimaginable before; absolute self-sufficiency had been the basic fact on which he’d built his whole life. Even the brothers, who were integral to his life and self, he’d depended on for survival and practical matters, never emotionally. He’d never felt he’d die if he lost them. He felt that about her, and more. He could live only with her.
This profound dependence had started from their first meeting. Right then his fundamental being had recognized hers as the only one to mesh with it, to complete his missing parts. The feeling had taken root during the night he’d first claimed her, as she’d claimed him right back. Every day since, those roots had been growing deeper, becoming entangled, encompassing everything inside him.
Their intimacy, in and out of bed, had been growing exponentially, and she’d been totally open about what he made her feel. But she hadn’t made a straight declaration of her love. He hadn’t, either, but he had been calling her “my love” and “my heart” and “my soul” and meaning every word. She hadn’t reciprocated.
But just before Richard arrived, something terrible had occurred to him. He couldn’t believe it hadn’t before. Being with her did tamper with his every mental function.
He’d realized he should hope she wouldn’t declare her love. Not yet. Not before he settled his mission, and could tell her the whole truth...
“Seriously?” Richard’s scoff yanked him out of his oppressive musings. “You’re going to be one of those men who zones out when they even picture their beloved?”
He forced his focus back on Richard. “I said Jenan is off-limits. To discussion. To speculation. To thoughts.”
“Thoughts, eh? You have a way of enforcing that ban?”
“If you value your family jewels, you’ll shut up, give me that briefcase and get the hell out of here.”
“Leave?” Richard feigned a shocked face. “Without taking a tour of this Arabian Nights reproduction?”
“I can take the briefcase from your dead body, Cobra.”
Richard laughed, true amusement in the lethal rumble. “I’ll die another day, thank you, Phantom.” He swung the briefcase up, hugged it to his chest, provocation set on maximum. “I flew fifteen hours straight to come here. Doesn’t this warrant that you offer me a drink, at least?”
“No, it doesn’t. Now give me the damned documents.”
“Just like that? I get nothing in return.”
“You do. I owe you one. Collect it anytime.”
“I’ll collect it right now. I want that drink.”
Numair seethed with frustration. He could always beat Richard to a pulp. Problem was, Richard would inflict as much damage on him. They were each other’s match. And he couldn’t have Jenan arriving to find him torn and bloody. His scars continued to hurt her, and he couldn’t bear disturbing her anymore if he could help it. Which meant he couldn’t vent his aggression. Ever again.
As he was about to take that insufferable creature to force-feed him that drink, Richard added, “And I want to meet that mythical being who brought you to your knees.”
Numair rounded on him, snarling, “You can ask for anything of equal value to what you’re giving me. Anything involving Jenan is invaluable, and will never be an option, for you or anyone else. But now you’ve dared to ask that, I wouldn’t offer you a sip of water if you were dying of thirst, so you might as well give up and go the hell away.”
Richard transferred the briefcase behind his back. “You know I never give up. And I’m going nowhere. So what will you do? Kill me like you’ve wanted to for the past twenty-five years?”
“If that’s what it takes to get rid of you.”
