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Bethany led the way. Moonlight was spilling over the sand as the last sunlight faded from the sky. Slade draped an arm over her shoulder. “So, did you get the same feeling sitting in the sand as when you sit on grass?”
“No. It was different.”
“Different bad or different good?”
Bethany shrugged. “Just different. There were different sounds to pick out. A different feel to the place.” She glanced at him. “I can get used to different.”
Inside the house, she turned toward him. The smell of his cologne sent a burst of longing through her. She didn’t wait for him to make the first move. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pushed him back slightly. When his back connected with the wall, she grinned and launched herself at him.
She kissed him, slipped her hands up under his T-shirt, reveled in the feel of his skin beneath her hands. When he moved to rid her of her clothing, Bethany helped him by toeing off her shoes. She licked up his neck and then nibbled on his earlobe.
Pulling back, she looked him in the eyes. “I’m still not sure that this is a great idea, but I can’t keep my hands off you. I need to feel alive, and the best place I can think to do that is in your arms.”
“Does that mean you’re saying yes to my question?” She gave a soft hum and kissed him again. He took her by the shoulders and held her back. “Is that a yes? You’ll marry me?”
“Slade, it’s not good for you to always get your way.”
“Yeah, well, what happened to all that stability and order talk? Our getting married is about the best way to get Jason those things.”
She relaxed into his hold. “This is the problem—you are right about too many things, Slade. Don’t you ever want to be wrong once in a while?”
He brushed his fingers over her face. “When it comes to you—no. I’m not wrong about loving you. I’m not wrong that we’re going to be married.”
“Yeah, well, for now, I’m just going to enjoy the moment. Come on, big guy—bed is one place I’m never going to mind you taking over and being so focused on doing everything right.”
17
One week later
Slade sipped his coffee and stretched his legs, enjoying the morning salt air. It was still early here in San Diego and judging from the audible yawns coming from both Trent and Travis, they were feeling the pain too. But it was the best time to have his primary team together and it was good to see them all, even if three of them were more than eight thousand miles away and staring back at him via Zoom. It had been a sound business decision to set up permanent residence in the palace of the sheikh of Jawhara, but some of his best people were now living there full time, including his business partner.
“Report.” He could hear shuffling over the video feed. “Brock?”
“Intel is confirmed that the current unrest here in Jawhara is coming from Bashiria, but we’ve no idea if it originated there or if the idea was brought to them.” Slade could hear tapping as Brock keyed in something on his computer. “Sending over the latest we have on the parties involved.”
Slade opened the file Brock sent, scanning the report. “So nothing from Sumari? Are we talking insurgents in Bashiria? I thought they were too modern for that.”
“They are,” Talib chimed in, and Slade saw PJ hand Talib a tablet. Looking at it, his scowl deepened. “It started as some sort of petty grab for Jewel Oil.” His distaste over it all was obvious by his tone.
“But when they didn’t succeed there, they resorted to sabotage and damaging the rigs. There are now whispers coming from those who aren’t happy that the brothers married Americans, questioning their ability to keep their workers safe. If this keeps up, we’re concerned about a push for a change in power, and that could be disastrous,” Keira volunteered, and Talib gave her a nod.
“Death toll?” Slade tilted his head to look at Travis, who was reading over the same report, but PJ answered instead.
“Four currently, with fifteen more injured, some critically, so that may change. Are we sure there’s still no sabotage attempts on the SoCal rigs?”
“So far,” Travis answered for him. “But if the goal is to embarrass the sheikh and make him look bad, they’re better off going after the wells in Jawhara. Especially if they’re looking to get money out of it.”
“True enough,” Trent chimed in. “A major oil spill off the California coast would get the Feds involved, and these guys don’t want any more scrutiny thrown at them, if they can help it.”
“Sheikh Kamal and Jewel Oil would be held responsible for any environmental cleanup, and that could run in the billions,” Brock added. “If their goal is to unseat Kam, and they don’t care about the local death toll or the money loss from the damaged rigs, they probably don’t want the entire world watching, which would happen with a California cleanup.”
“Agreed. Keep me apprised and call if you need anything.” Brock leaned forward to disconnect the video, but Keira called out.
“Wait!” Pausing, he looked at her. “How’s Jason doing?”
The others visibly shifted forward, waiting for his reply, and he smiled.
“So far so good. The doctor said the procedure went well. I know he was in a lot of pain, but he put on a brave face because Bethany was so upset. He’s due to get his first x-ray and bloodwork at the end of the week. We’ll know more then.”
