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The world heated. There was only her and Brock and the pressure building inside. She wanted more of him. She grabbed his ass, raking her nails over his skin. He gave a soft grunt, lifted up, and pushed even deeper. She screamed his name and felt pulsing heat as he spilled into her, his hips jerking, pushing her down. His heated breath brushed her face and his sweat-slicked skin slid over hers.
Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled onto his side, breathing hard and heavy.
Too spent to talk, Keira snuggled close. She traced a finger over the hard muscles on his chest.
Brock gave a low chuckle that vibrated against her chest. “Going to sleep on me?”
“Hmm…”
He kissed her forehead. “Be right back.” She grabbed for him, but he slipped from the bed. Body lazy and her mind empty, Keira lay in the rumpled sheets. A warm, wet cloth brushed over her thigh. He turned her and wiped her off.
“Nice,” she muttered. And it was.
He slipped back into bed next to her, laying his leg over hers, the coarse hairs tickling. “We still need to talk.”
Keira gave a groan. “No, we really don’t. I take care of my own protection.” She pried open one eye. “Do you think you’d be a good dad? If I ever have a kid, I am going to make damn sure my child is loved and cared for.”
He smoothed her hair back. “Kids? Where’d that mind of yours go to now?”
“Sleep. Dreams,” Keira muttered. She curled up tighter against his warmth.
10
Brock was gone when Keira awoke. The pillow next to her still smelled like him. She put her face into it and breathed in deeply. Her bed smelled like sex, too, and now she wondered if that had been the entire point of last night. Was the sex just part of their cover? Well, she’d had worse excuses to jump into bed with a guy, and if the cleaning staff were gossips, last night’s romp would go a long way toward cementing her story.
Throwing off the covers, she headed into the bathroom for a hot shower. She needed to wash Brock off of her and get her head back in the game. She found a few aches where she hadn’t had them before, and it was hard to keep a smile off her face. So what if last night had just been for show? It’d been a great night. No matter what happened next, she’d cling to that memory.
Pulling on a thick, white terrycloth robe, she padded back to the bed across the deep carpets and pulled out the folder PJ had left her. She went through it, page by page, but nothing stood out. Backgrounds seemed normal, no obvious red flags—no family ties to the rebels, no negative social media posts, no bad habits. It looked as if Talib screened everyone who worked here before they showed up, and then he’d rechecked everyone again a couple of weeks ago. The guy was good at his job.
Keira headed to the windows and glanced out.Another day in paradise, she thought. Blue skies, bright sun, lush gardens. The air smelled dry today, and the sun burned with a heat you didn’t get in other parts of the world. The only problem was that this paradise might have a snake in it.
Pulling on underwear, shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals, Keira headed downstairs for coffee. She found food set out in the dining room, on a long sideboard in chafing dishes. She lifted a few lids, saw the usual eggs and some sort of breakfast meats that clearly weren’t pork, and some dishes she wouldn’t have been able to name, but which carried the lush aromas of spices.
A stack of pastries that looked as if they’d pack on five pounds with one bite sat under a glass dome. She helped herself to black coffee. Taking her coffee onto the stone terrace, she glimpsed PJ and Talib walking through the garden. They didn’t see her, and she stepped back into the shadows, watching them. Talib took hold of PJ’s hand and kissed the back of it—then he leaned in and kissed her.
A pang shot through Keira. She looked away. She wasn’t jealous of PJ having Talib, but she was envious of their obvious closeness. Sex with Brock wasn’t the same thing. Once her job ended, she’d leave, off to another job, while he stayed here. For once, her pulse didn’t quicken at the idea of traipsing off to parts unknown. She’d sworn she wouldn’t have any regrets, but now one was staring her in the face—she’d regret having to leave Brock. Which meant she was going to work this job for all she could get out of it. If they only had a short time, why not make the most of it and enjoy herself? If what PJ said about him was true, as soon as this job was over, he’d probably go back to avoiding her for the next five years.
She drank her coffee and headed off to find Brock.
He wasn’t in his room, and she wondered if he was checking out the security feeds. She’d glimpsed the cameras in all of the public rooms—beautifully hidden behind carved wood—and she was fairly sure she’d found all of them. Every camera needed a view, which meant you could spot them if you knew what to look for in the places that gave the best view of the room. In all of her prowling about the palace, she hadn’t found any in the halls near the family’s quarters or in the guest rooms, and while a part of her understood the need for privacy, it did make things more difficult.
She came across Maela dressing down a couple of upstairs maids. She had no idea what the poor girls had done, but Maela was verbally stripping off their hides for some misstep. Maela saw her, cut off her sharp rebuke before Keira could hear what she was saying, and dismissed the girls. She paused beside Keira. “The young—more interested in gossiping than working.”
She gave Keira a challenging stare, as if defying her to deny such a thing. What, did Maela think Keira was lazy, too? Keira straightened, too aware she’d done nothing to give this woman a good impression of her. But, then, her job was to look spoiled and lazy. She slumped again. “Don’t tell me they’ve been eyeing my boyfriend; I know he’s a regular around here, but he promised he’d behave. If they have, they deserve what they got.”
Maela’s eyes narrowed and her lips set in a hard line. She turned and left without saying another word. Keira stared after her. Maela seemed to think this palace was hers to run, and maybe it was. But was that a good thing?
She went in search of Erin and was able to coax her to come eat lunch with PJ and Shira—the sheikh had been called into the city for several meetings and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Keira used the time to try to get a read on any of the wedding guests still hanging around the palace. She also kept an eye on the staff who served them.
Lunch, unlike dinner, was informal. A buffet was spread out on the terrace. Guests came and went, some stopping at their table to give well-wishes to one or both of the cousins, and if there was any sort of animosity toward the women, it was well-hidden, and Keira couldn’t find it. Maela scowled at Erin’s nearly empty plate and had something special brought out from the kitchen, which Erin seemed to like more, and Keira leaned close to her. “Are you still having morning sickness?”
Erin’s cheeks pinked. “Not as bad as it was in my first trimester, but there are still days where I can’t eat anything.”
Keira nodded. “I had a friend—hit her the same way. First three months were misery, but the rest of her time, she had more energy. And the best skin you’ve ever seen on anyone. She loved having bigger boobs, too.”
Erin grinned. “I do have more energy and Kam is definitely enjoying my…growth spurt.”
Trying to imagine the sheikh of Jawhara having an opinion on his wife’s breasts made Keira laugh. She tried to cover it up, but the others laughed as well. PJ turned the conversation to plans for some online shopping that afternoon, but Erin bowed out. She had a charity meeting to attend.
