His gaze narrowed. “How long were you planning on being here?”
She shrugged. “However long I needed to be.”
“Jesus.” He closed his eyes and shook his head.
She crossed her arms over her chest. The nerve of this man. “You know, you aren’t the only person who can do this job?”
“I know that.” He leveled a stare at her. “I just think this was an incredibly short-sighted plan that puts you at risk.”
Ivy didn’t want to admit he was right.
Here he had something to monitor his room when he wasn’t there and she had...a ring. She wasn’t even trained for this. She was fairly certain the criteria for picking her had centered on her blonde hair and big boobs.
She wasn’t going to admit that to Killam though. If she gave him an inch he’d completely sideline her and then what purpose was there for her even taking this risk to begin with?
“Okay, when the power goes off, we meet in the front kitchen. Jabir never goes in there. You need some kind of go-bag. Pants. Shoes. Some scarves to cover your head until we can get you something. I’ll see if I can get one of those full coverage headscarves.”
“That’ll make me harder to pick out, at least.”
His gaze seemed to focus on her more. “Your eyes give you away.”
He said it funny. She couldn’t put a word to it, he just sounded off.
She swallowed and toyed with the hem of her skirt. “From a distance, then.”
Killam nodded and glanced away. “I’m exhausted. You staying up or going to bed?”
“Um...” Ivy wasn’t entirely tired. She’d spent most of the day wandering around or lounging, but he looked ready to drop. “I guess I’ll head out then.”
“You’re staying here.” He turned toward the closet.
“I am?”
“The party will likely go to sunup. If Yousef sees you, he’ll insist that you go back to it, and with Jabir being free with the drugs, I don’t see that as being a safe decision. It’s just best if you stay here. It’s a big bed.” He gestured to the platform monstrosity he was calling a bed.
It was bigger than the California King she’d slept in once at a friend’s house in high school.
She pushed to her feet and hoped the bed was more comfortable than the sofa. “What? You won’t offer to sleep on the floor like a gentleman?”
“Nope,” Killam said over his shoulder from deep within the closet.
“You are the worst,” she called out.
She didn’t really mean it and she didn’t expect him to sleep on the floor. The bed was big enough they could both lay spread eagle and have feet of space between them.
Too bad she didn’t have anything to sleep in or take her make-up off. The latter was more bothersome. Nor had attacked her with an expert hand while London had made suggestions. The whole experience had made Ivy self-conscious. She considered herself proficient when it came to make up but this was a whole other level.
Killam emerged from the closet holding something in his hand. He tossed it at her. She caught it and held out a soft, gray T-shirt.
“Want in the bathroom first? There should be some standard toiletries under the sink,” he said.
“Thanks, and sure.”
She turned and headed for the bathroom. The thoughtfulness of the offered T-shirt was unexpected and had her a little off balance.
Killam was what she’d expected most of the time. But every now and then he totally surprised her.
Ivy ducked into the bathroom. Under the sink she found some make-up removal wipes along with new toothbrushes. She used half the package of wipes before she was satisfied that her make-up was off. It took her just as long to pluck all the pins out of her hair then brush her teeth.
Killam was right about one thing. She wasn’t adequately prepared. If he wasn’t here, she’d likely be in a lot more trouble. She owed him, and she wasn’t entirely comfortable with that fact.
She stripped out of the skirt, halter top and bra. Sliding into his shirt felt a bit like heaven. It had sounded fun in theory to play dress-up, but Ivy wasn’t really that girl. She’d been a tomboy her whole life.
Ivy opened the bathroom door and paused.
Most of the lights were off, save for those built into the headboard.
Killam lay on his back, one foot propped on his other knee, looking at something.
“I’m done,” she announced.
He popped up, giving her a first look at his shirtless chest. His skin was a smooth, golden brown. There wasn’t a tattoo or scar on him. Just rippling muscles right down to the waistband of his athletic shorts. She swallowed and side-stepped, giving him a wide berth.
Get control of yourself.
The bathroom door clicked and she retreated to the other side of the bed, farther from the door. She folded her dress and placed it on the bottom shelf of the nightstand before diving into the bed.
Being attracted to Killam wasn’t a crime, but she couldn’t lose her head and think that just because they had chemistry it meant anything. She’d worked with his type before. People who were better off on their own made for weak-points in the team structure. He wanted to do it all, be everything, and he couldn’t. He’d get her burned doing that.
Still, she was never going to forget the way he’d kissed her. How it had felt. The way the world seemed to pause whenever their eyes met.
Just thinking about it made her body turn uncomfortably warm.
This being attracted to him was highly inconvenient.
The bathroom door opened, but she refused to look. She’d already had one look at temptation, a second was foolhardy. She closed her eyes and breathed deep.
For tonight she was safe to sleep without worry.
She refused to listen to the little voice in the back of her head that fretted over the other girls. There was only so much she could do.
Was that the truth, or was she telling herself that so that she’d feel better?
Ivy turned toward Killam, who was looking at his phone.
“Is he nice to them?” she asked.
“Hm?” Killam glanced at her. The lights from the headboard made his sun streaked hair gleam.
“Jabir. Is he nice to them? Would he make them...?”
“He won’t force anyone to do his drugs and considering how much is in his system? The girls will likely be babysitting him. Yousef had Nor with him. She’s used to dealing with him in this state. I doubt he could even get it up.”
Ivy blew out a breath. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Ivy?” He set his phone down and turned toward her. The sheet was up under his arms, revealing and hiding at the same time. “You can’t let yourself get caught up in their choices. No one made them come here.”
“Nor’s supporting her family. London’s...” No, she couldn’t share that story. “They aren’t doing this for the fun of it.”
“There are other ways they could earn money, too. You’re here to do a job. I know it sounds heartless, but you can’t risk yourself for them.”
“I just wanted to know if they’d be okay. Sorry,” she snapped and rolled over.
“Ivy.” He sighed. “Ivy?”
She crammed the pillow under her head. “You are an asshole.”
And she felt like she was five. What was it about this guy?
“Yeah, I am,” Killam said. His tone was weary, worn down.
How many times had he needed to learn the lesson he was trying to teach her?
Guilt nipped at her. He was her only friend in this and she didn’t have to pick a fight with him. Just because he got under her skin and twisted her up didn’t give her the right to be a bitch to him. Even if she didn’t like the lesson he was trying to give her.
“I know they decided to do this and I know they could have done something else. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop caring,” she said as she stared at the blackout curtains.
“And that’s why you’re better than me.”
He’d los
t someone. Maybe a lot of someones.
“Go to sleep, Ivy,” he said and clicked the light off, plunging the room into darkness that seemed to wrap around them and cut out the rest of the world.
Even the sound of the party was a distant, dull throb of sound.
9.
Monday. Jabir al Saud’s Home. Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.
Killam’s eyes opened and his body tensed.
He wasn’t sure why he’d woken up.
The room was quiet with the soft drone of the air conditioning unit drowning out any ambient noise from other rooms or floors.
Ivy’s even breathing indicated she was still asleep.
His monitor would have beeped if someone had entered the room.
Was it something in the hall? Or outside the house?
Carefully, Killam extracted himself from the sheets. His legs were tangled up from restless moving about thanks to his dreams featuring a particular blonde.
Something thumped against the wall a few feet from the bed, followed by a loud guffaw.
The hall, then.
He glanced at the clock.
Barely midnight.
It was too early for most guests to be headed to bed, unless they had other activities in mind.
He turned to look at Ivy’s back. His shirt was far too large on her. He had this odd urge to hook his finger in the neckline and pull it down to kiss her spine.
The damn woman was getting to him.
Killam strode to the door, unlocked it and stepped out. With any luck, he’d squash this upstart moment with his conscience and go back to bed. But not before he found out what the hell was going on outside.
A woman in a red cocktail dress sat on the floor with her back to the wall. Zak leaned over her while Miran supported two other giggling women. It was the same women from earlier who’d been in the elevator with them, plus another. Ivy had said this group of girls traveled in a group.
“Killer!” Zak called out.
“There a problem here?” Killam asked.
The woman sitting on the floor tipped her chin up.
Her blue eyes were nearly swallowed by the irises and so red he almost wondered if he were the one hallucinating.
“No problem,” Zak chimed in as he stood, hauling the tiny woman to her feet.
“She doesn’t look well.” Killam took a step sideways, not so subtly blocking their path.
Zak grinned at him, showing just a bit too many teeth. “She’s fine.”
The woman clearly wasn’t fine. The other two were giggling and completely out of it. There was a manic edge to their laughter, one that put him on edge.
Killam’s gut said this wasn’t right, but he had to be careful. When it came to Jabby’s favorite guests, they were often given allowances others didn’t enjoy. That didn’t always include liberties with the women Jabby kept for himself, though sometimes it did. There was no way to know.
If Killam involved himself, would this blow back on him? Or was this the right thing to do? Was Ivy screwing with his head?
Rapid-fire Arabic Killam couldn’t catch pelted them. He glanced past the trio barely remaining on their feet to another man.
Yousef.
He wasn’t wearing a suit any longer. He’d changed into a white caftan garment called a thobe. Which probably meant he’d retired for the evening, and that indicated Jabby had gone to bed as well. For some reason, Yousef’s ever-present glare seemed more potent when he was dressed all in white. He said something else and Miran responded.
Yousef snapped, a bit of his anger showing. That was never a good sign.
Zak frowned and said something else, letting go of the wobbling woman.
Killam stepped up, managing to catch the girl before she fell. He could speak Arabic, but not this fast. He caught every third or fourth word, not that he needed to. The cousins had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. And like the petulant children they were, they thought they deserved the treat.
“I think you need to go to bed,” Killam said.
“Your bed?” She laughed.
“No.” He glanced at Yousef who now had one of the other women by the wrist.
The girl in Killam’s arms’ hiccupped then glanced around.
“I... I think I’m going to be sick.” Notes of desperation wove through her voice.
“Come on. Quick now.” Killam shoved his room door open and hustled her in.
The headboard lights were on and Ivy stood just inside the door, hands behind her.
What the hell did she have?
Killam hustled the girl into the bathroom with no time to spare. Her whole body lurched and he closed his eyes, doing his best to block it all out. By some miracle, the girl managed to be sick in the toilet.
The sound of her retching made his own stomach roll. He’d never handled this sort of thing well.
Ivy placed her hand on his shoulder and nodded at the bathroom door.
He let go of the girl and backed up.
Ivy moved in, gathering the girl’s hair and laying a wet rag across the back of her neck. He wasn’t sure when she’d managed to grab that. His mouth began to water, and not because he’d smelled something good. He turned and left the bathroom in a hurry.
Of all the damn things to get to him.
At least the girls were safe.
Killam hadn’t set out to be a hero tonight, but he was glad he’d listened to his gut.
He exited the bathroom and found Yousef leaning into the room.
Killam thumbed over his shoulder. “She’s sick.”
“You had excellent timing, Mr. Killam,” Yousef said in his deadpan voice.
Killam held up his hands. “Just heard something in the hall that didn’t sound right.”
“I’ll send someone to collect her. My apologies, .”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Yousef vanished from sight and Killam padded to the doors. He glanced out in time to see Yousef and the two women step into the elevator. The cousins were nowhere to be seen.
What were those two up to?
No. He wasn’t going there. He didn’t like the cousins on a good day, much less a day like today.
Not ten minutes later, two of the women who worked at the house knocked on the door. One collected the barely conscious girl while the other did a quick clean-up job in the bathroom.
As quickly as the odd encounter began, it was over.
Killam closed and secured the door, but found himself still unsettled.
What if Ivy had been one of those women?
That question finally realized sank like a stone in his gut. She thought she was invincible. What about next time? What if Jabby took an interest in her? What then?
He had the sudden urge to bundle her up, run away with her, this job be damned.
“What just happened?” Ivy asked. It was the first thing he’d heard her say.
“Fuck if I know.” He dragged his hand over his face. Where was all this coming from? “What were you going to hit me with?”
She smiled sheepishly. “My shoe. She was really sick.”
“I don’t know what they gave her, but stay away from the cousins, okay? Zak and Miran are bad news.”
She wrapped her arms around her and shivered. “They give me the creeps.”
“Good.”
Looking into her eyes, he knew that if it had been her out there, he’d have done a lot more than just be in the way. He’d have knocked heads together and kicked their asses so hard.
He wanted desperately to beg her to let him take her away from here, but he knew he she would read more into the request. She would dig her heels in, get pissy with him, all because he didn’t want anything to happen to her. It had nothing to do with her ability and everything to do with this situation. This was too much.
These feelings, this right here, was exactly why he didn’t let himself get involved.
People were added complications, nothing more.
He cared ab
out a woman he shouldn’t even know because he couldn’t leave well enough alone.
She tilted her head to the side and smiled at him. No more of that annoyed, narrow-eyed gaze. No more pursed lips. She was just ivy. And, God, she looked so damn good in his shirt.
“You aren’t as big of an ass as you claim to be,” she said.
He took a step toward her. She wouldn’t like where his thoughts were going. “Want to bet?”
She leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. “I fully believe you’re still an asshole. Don’t worry.”
Killam should have never taken one step. Now he couldn’t stop himself. He closed the short distance between them, all the while staring into her eyes.
They’d gone a blue-green color, like that of a stormy sea.
“Don’t make me out to be a hero,” he said.
He was just so damn glad Ivy was with him and not out there.
Her gaze roved over his face.
What did she see? Was she looking for something?
“All I did was stand in the way. A damn hero would have done something,” he said.
Ivy didn’t deny his statement. She also didn’t agree with him.
What was she thinking? Was she disgusted with him? Think him a fool?
She uncrossed her arms and lifted a hand to his face, tracing a line from his temple down to his jaw and then his chin.
“What would you have done if that was you out there?” he asked.
“Who are you in this scenario?” she asked.
“I’m not fucking around, Ivy. This is serious.”
She calmly studied him and this time it felt as though she were looking deeper, weighing him.
He didn’t want her to see him as anything other than what he was. A man with questionable morals and the ability to get the job done. And yet, for a moment, he did want to be that hero in shining armor. He wanted to deserve to be that guy. But only for her.
Killam flattened his hand on the wall to keep himself away from her, but his elbow buckled and he leaned in close enough he could smell her perfume again. It wasn’t floral or delicate, it was seductive and spicy.
Ivy’s gaze dropped to his mouth and her lips parted.
Damn it to hell. He wasn’t a hero and he wasn’t a good man.
Necessary Risk (Aegis Group Task Force Book 4) Page 12
