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She could hear the patrols—that was the problem with heavy boots and big guns, they clumped and clattered, and unless you trained for it, you made noise. Heading for the palace, she passed the shrubs in the garden and made some notes to tell Talib—this was a little too easy right now. But Brock might be helping her with distractions on the inside—like reaming everyone a new one for sloppy work and letting Erin be taken a second time.
Except Keira was certain she hadn’t been taken anywhere, and Brock believed her.
At the terrace outside the palace, Keira hunched low in something that smelled good. Leaves tickled her skin and branches pricked her fingers. She needed everyone elsewhere right now. Looking around for a distraction, she grabbed a metal bucket sitting beside a bench. From the smell, it was an outdoor ashtray. Taking careful steps, she found what she needed. Holding the handle on the bucket, she swung her arm out, sending the bucket as far as she could throw. It crashed onto a glass tabletop on the open patio space below her and the sound of glass breaking made her cringe.Oops.
She could hear voices and the boots of guards as they ran for that spot.
Keira used the diversion to cover her run and leap. She caught a rain gutter and climbed up to the second floor. Swinging over, she caught the rim of a balcony and hefted herself up. After a moment of fiddling—lock picks could be made to look like the side boning of a bra—she opened the latch and slipped inside.
Heart hammering, she stood motionless. All good so far. She’d picked this room intentionally. She hid herself behind one of the drapes. She didn’t have long to wait.
She heard the creak of a door, and a draft of air stirred the curtains, brushing them against her face. The door clicked shut. Footsteps padded across the carpet. Keira peeked out from her hiding spot. She saw a dark figure, a flash of color. A pale hand reached up to a carved pillar, and then a door opened and light spilled into the room in a streak that revealed Maela, dressed in black pants and shirt and carrying a tray.
Keira stepped out from behind the drapery. “Maela, it’s over. Erin needs to go back to her husband.”
13
Maela spun around. She shut the door, but not before Keira caught a glimpse of a sleeping Erin. She hoped so. Maela clattered the tray onto a side table. She stood in front of the hidden door, arms crossed. The ruby flashed on her finger—and Keira realized that was the key to opening the door. It wasn’t a ring, so much as a key.
“Your family has protected the sheikh’s family forever, has it not? I should have seen it before. Bint-Jamal—daughter of Jamal. He protected Sheikh Kamal’s father and grandfather. And probably his father before him? How many generations has your family served the royal family?”
Maela straightened. “You are not as foolish as you seemed, Miss Ella Clausen.”
“My real name is Keira Mantz, and that was an act. I’m thinking now we should have clued you in on it. You sent us the warning, didn’t you? And you are also the person working on the inside. But it’s not to hurt Erin—it’s to protect her child.”
Gesturing to the tray, Maela asked, “How do you know I do not poison her?”
Keira stepped forward. The aromas—something spicy and warm—from the tray left her realizing it had to be almost morning, and she was hungry. She glanced at the tray, picked up a cup, and took a sip of what tasted like spiced tea. She drank it down. “No poison. You must think we’re all idiots.”
Maela’s black eyes glittered, and her mouth settled into a smug curve. “You…perhaps not.”
“But the others—they let Erin be taken once. You started to worry. And then a bunch of Americans show up, acting like clowns. Talib in love with PJ and thinking more of her than his job, or so it seemed. You looked around and saw that the future ruler of Jawhara might be in danger. You sent the note—and still you did not see anything changing. I don’t blame you for taking action, but as you see…I’m not what you thought.”
“Keira is one of the best at her job,” Brock said, stepping into the room, gun in hand.
Maela glanced at him, worry in her eyes now. She lifted her chin. “I don’t regret my actions. Even if I lose my head, the baby must stay safe.”
“No one’s losing any heads.” Keira came forward. “Thank you for testing us. But I think we’ll all sleep better if we start working together. Now, can Erin get back to her rooms before the sheikh decides he needs to rip this place apart to find her?”
Maela gave a small nod. “She is asleep. I told her I would keep her safe, so she came with me. She is smart—she trusts me.”
“Well, I think we’d better have you in on all security meetings from now on. Brock, can you take Erin back to Sheikh Kamal?”
Brock gave a nod and tucked his gun away.The man never trusts anyone, Keira thought. But that wasn’t quite true. He’d trusted her tonight.
When Brock gathered Erin up from the bed in a luxurious safe room, she stirred. Brock muttered something to her; she smiled and settled back into sleep in his arms. Keira followed as he carried her back to her room, placed her on her bed, and left her sleeping with the sheikh standing watch over her. He gave them both a quiet thank you and said he would speak with them tomorrow.
Outside the room, Brock let out a breath. “I’ll brief Slade. The sheikh’s going to want lots of explanations at first light, and I’m going to want breakfast.”
Keira shrugged. “Well, don’t arrest Maela—you do and none of us will be eating.”
“Her intentions were in the right place, even if her actions were questionable.”
“Yeah, but what’s that saying about good intentions paving the road to hell? This could have gone south in a big way.”
Brock nodded. “It didn’t. You did okay.”
She smiled and punched his arm. “I did great, and you know it. You should have seen me climbing the wall, total ninja action.” They reached her room, and she reached for the door handle. “I expect Slade will want me reassigned now with my cover blown, so no need to keep acting.” She gave another shrug and forced a smile as she pushed open the door. She didn’t want to show him that her heart was breaking. It hadn’t been an act. Not with him. But how could she tell him that?
