Protecting His Interests
Page 21
“You have been through much. Some rest would do you good.”
I waved my hand in dismissal. “There’s no time for rest, Kami. Dr. Mayalla is expecting us. I have notes and care packages from her extended family in Tanzania and am sure she is anxious to see them.”
He visibly relaxed. “If I may make a suggestion—”
“No, you may not.” I leaned back in my seat and offered an encouraging smile. “I’m sure she would be understanding, but you know how much I hate being around people. I won’t be able to fully relax until this meet-and-greet is finished.” I hated talking to people face-to-face and preferred the privacy of my computer. My popularity had grown quite a lot in the past two years, however, and I found that lectures like the one I was scheduled to give this week brought more money and focus to my causes than blogging alone. Despite this, I still craved the dimly lit bedroom of my flat back in London. There, no one stared at my odd-looking eyes or asked me questions about my skin color. There, I was safe.
“You don’t have to come with me,” I said after a few moments. “We can meet up for dinner later instead.”
Kami shook his head. “If even a fraction of what those cops back there said was true, then you’re going to need someone to look out for you.”
I closed my eyes as weariness washed over me. “I’m sure my father is just being overprotective, again. If it was up to him, I never would have traveled to Africa in the first place.”
“The witch doctors—”
“Are backward thinking idiots with no regard for human life.” I opened my eyes and turned in my seat to face him. “Someone has to stop them from killing those poor children and selling their body parts as medicine.”
“You know that the local government is aware of the problem and is doing all it can to help. Perhaps if you worked through them instead of trying to do things on your own—”
“You know me, Kami. I was never really good at playing by others’ rules. Besides, the government’s idea of helping is shipping the poor children away from their families and sending them to other countries.” I shook my head. “Did you speak with your family?”
“I tried, but you know how they feel about me.”
“Yeah, I do.” I reached out and held his hand. The old ways still held strong in Tanzania, and it was difficult to change people’s minds. Albinism wasn’t the only thing believed to be born of the devil. Homosexuality was as well. While his parents accepted him, they also knew that his life in Tanzania would be harsh at best. So they had saved up money and sent him to London to attend school. It was at the university where we met, and it was our shared feeling of being outcasts that bonded us together. His tech savvy helped me keep the blog up and running, and his knowledge of Tanzanian culture helped me bring the problems there to the center stage.
“Are they letting you come home?”
“No, it is still too dangerous.” He squeezed my hand.
“And?” I asked as I leaned closer. “What else did they say?”
He glanced up at me. “They said that your blogs attacking the government have made their lives difficult. People no longer trust them.”
I let go of his hand. Kami’s parents had tried to help our cause as much as possible from their positions in the Tanzanian government, but in many cases their hands were tied by local politics. “I’m sorry, Kami. You know I’d do anything for them, but I can’t stop speaking the truth. This is too important.”
“I know. I just wish you’d be more careful. Your bold words will only bring you trouble.”
I smiled reassuringly at him. “I was careful in Tanzania, if you remember, but we are far away from that place now. You can relax.”
“You should never underestimate the power of those who wish uphold the traditional way of thinking. Some will go to extreme measures in order to preserve their way of life.”
I thought about Kami’s words, and about the conversation I had with the sexy cop back at the airport. “My father may be overdramatic, but he wouldn’t act without cause. I wonder what has gotten him shaken up?”
“It could be anything, really. As a UN ambassador, I’m sure he is exposed to a lot of information neither one of us can see.”
“True, but—” I lurched forward as the taxi came to an abrupt stop. A loud crash echoed through the cabin and I threw up my hands as I slammed into the seat in front of me.
I screamed as the windows broke inward, showering us with glass. The taxi spun in a circle and I felt as if I was on an amusement park ride as the world turned upside down and swirled around me.
Pain blossomed through my head and limbs as I struggled to remain conscious. Everything happened so fast. Before I took my next breath, I was dangling upside down from my seat.
“Kami?” My voice sounded strained and came out barely above a whisper. I cleared my throat and blinked my eyes. “Kami, are you all right?”
I glanced at the seat next to me. Kami was strapped into the seat and hanging upside down. Blood trickled down his temple, and it looked as if the seat in front of him crushed his legs. I reached out and shook his shoulder.
“Kami, wake up.” When he didn’t respond, I shook him harder. “Kami.”
Suddenly, a face appeared in the window next to me. “Are you okay?”
It was the sexy cop from the airport. Seeing him first made me self-conscious, then silly. Yes, I probably looked like hell, but this wasn’t the time or place to worry about appearances.
“Mr. Ferreira.”
“Please, call me Max.” Worry lines creased his forehead as he dipped lower on his hands and knees to get a better look at me. “Can you move?”
I nodded. “I think so.” I did a quick mental inventory. Everything hurt, but nothing felt broken.
“Wiggle your fingers for me.”
I did.
“Can you move your head? Your legs?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I reached for my friend. “Kami.”
Max frowned. “Vash, you got him?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Max’s friend appeared on the other side of the car.
Max reached his arm around me.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you out of here.” He placed his hand on my belt. “Put your hands up by your head. On the count of three, I’m going to undo the belt and pull you out.”
“Wait—”
“There’s no time. The car’s engine is leaking.”
“What about the driver.”
“Never mind him. Ready?”
I nodded.
“One, two . . .”
Max undid the belt. I grunted as gravity took hold, pulling me toward the pavement. Max caught me before I crashed and then swept me out of the car in a graceful, fluid motion. Before I could blink, I was out of the car and cradled in his arms.
“It’s leaking gas everywhere,” Vash called out from the other side of the car.
“Then get back!” Max jogged away from the vehicle and dove behind another car as a deafening boom filled the air.
“Kami!” I struggled in Max’s arms, trying to get back to the taxi.
“He’s fine,” Max said as he tightened his grip. “Vash’s got him.”
I relaxed my muscles as he eased my head down onto his shoulder. Tears poured down my cheeks as the weight of what just happened hit me like a brick wall.
Max, God bless him, just sat there and held me close, rubbing his fingers up and down my back as all the stress from the last twenty-four hours fell out of me and onto his suit jacket.
“We have to go,” Max said after a long moment.
I wiped the tears from my face and looked up at him. “I’m not leaving Kami.”
“You can’t stay. We need to be gone before whoever sent that car to hit you realizes that you’re not dead.”
“What?” I forced my fingers to uncurl from his shirt. “No, it was an accident.”
“That was no accident. I saw the whole thing.�
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“I don’t understand.”
“Come on.” He shifted his weight beneath me. “Can you stand?”
“I think so.” I struggled to my feet. Every muscle in my body screamed in pain.
“Damn.” Max swept me up into his arms once more. “Where are you staying?”
“The Jade Hotel. It shouldn’t be too far from here.”
“You’re not staying there anymore.”
“What? Why?”
“Did you reserve the room under your own name?”
“Of course.”
“They’ll expect you then.” I glanced around and noticed that we were on a busy city street. Walkers were gathering a half a block away and gawking at the scene. Several members from Gabe’s team were trying to keep them away. Some moved around the parked cars to along the sidewalk, circumventing the cops to take pictures with their phones. During the commotion, Gabe moved away from the wreckage and toward a small sedan parked on a side street in the opposite direction. He set me down on my feet next to the passenger-side door.
“Hang on.” He took off his suit jacket as he moved to the driver’s side door.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he wrapped the jacket around his hand. Instead of answering me, he punched the driver’s side window.
I put my hands over my ears as glass shattered inside the car. Max reached in and opened the door.
“You’re stealing the car?”
“Borrowing it. We can’t take the limo.”
“Why?”
“It’s compromised. Everything is compromised.”
“I don’t understand.” I crossed my arms. “I’m not getting in there.”
“You don’t have a choice.” He nodded back toward the wreckage. “Whoever called out that hit is going to be back to make sure the job was done right. Chances are, when they return, they’ll be disguised as someone you’d trust, like an EMT or cop. Hell, for all I know, someone on my own team set us up. That’s why we need to do something unexpected. If you want to stay safe, you need to get into the car.”
“But you’re stealing.”
“We can discuss my morality later.” He brushed the glass off the seat with his jacket and hit the button to unlock the driver’s side door. “Get in.” He got in and started fumbling underneath the steering wheel.
Sirens went off in the distance, as I stood there and wondered what to do. There was a good chance Max was over-reacting, and this was nothing more than an accident. But what if he was right and someone was trying to kill me? I didn’t want to risk my life to find out. I slid into the passenger seat as the engine hummed to life.
Max let out a long breath and shifted the gear into drive. “You might want to put on your seatbelt.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe.” He punched a button on his watch. “Check in.”
People I didn’t know all spoke in some gibberish code as Max nodded and spoke back. Frowning, I glanced down at my hands. They were stained with blood, although whether it was Kami’s blood or my own, I wasn’t sure.
It was all so surreal. It felt as if my life was spinning out of control. I wanted something solid, something real that I could hold onto and ground myself against this rising tide of emotion.
“Where’s Kami? Is he okay?” I asked.
“They’re taking him to the hospital.”
“But is he okay?”
“I don’t know.” Max lowered his arm and glanced over at me as the sedan pulled away from the curb. “I’m sorry.”
“Why would someone do this?” I shook my head. “This had to be an accident.”
“I saw the whole thing,” he said. “The car that hit you ran a red light. He sped up as he entered the intersection.”
“Perhaps he was on drugs or drunk.”
“Maybe.” I could tell by Max’s voice that he didn’t believe me. “Do you really want to take that chance?”
“I want to talk to my father.” I pulled out my phone and began scrolling. He was the one who alerted the local authorities and assigned the extra protection. Chances were, he’d be the one with the answers.
Max grabbed the cell from my hand.
“Hey.”
“Don’t call him just yet.”
“Why not?”
He glanced in my direction and then returned his focus to the road. “Whoever is after you is not only dangerous, but knows a lot about your schedule. Until we figure out how they’re getting that information, we should consider everything compromised.”
“You think someone tampered with my phone?”
“It’s possible.” He hesitated, then rolled down the window and tossed the phone out into the street. Then he took off his watch and threw that out of the car as well.
“Hey!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”
“They can track you with the GPS on our phone,” he explained. “My communicator has GPS as well.”
“How am I supposed to figure out what’s going on if I can’t talk to my father?”
“You can. We’ll get another phone just as soon as we’re safe.” He turned at the next intersection and slammed on the breaks as we hit a wall of traffic.
“What are we going to do now?” I asked as he hit the steering wheel in frustration.
“Get somewhere safe where we can dump the car.”
“And then?”
“And then . . .” He glanced over at me and winked. “And then we get you out of those clothes.”
About the Author
A lifetime New Englander, Suzanne Rock has been married to her college sweetheart for more than two decades. In addition to being a self-published author whose boxed sets have hit the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists, Suzanne is a chauffeur, a maid, a chef, an event planner, a hairdresser, a wardrobe stylist, a tutor, and a sometimes masseuse. Visit www.suzannerock.com to learn more.
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Praise
Praise for At His Service
“Deliciously seductive. At His Service will leave you breathless in the best way possible.”—Lisa Renee Jones, New York Times bestselling author of the Inside Out series
“A forbidden affair, a masterfull hero . . . oh baby, get ready for some real heat!”—Opal Carew, New York Times bestselling author
Praise for For His Pleasure
“A fast-paced plot, appealing lovers awakening to their true feelings, unnerving antagonists, and entertaining sex scenes make this an absorbing, satisfying romance.”—Publishers Weekly
Books by Suzanne Rock
Protecting His Interests
Keeping Her Close
At His Service
For His Pleasure
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Excerpt: KEEPING HER CLOSE
About the Author
Praise
Books by Suzanne Rock
Copyrig
ht Page
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
“Protecting His Interests” Copyright © 2017 by Suzanne Rock.
Excerpt from Keeping Her Close Copyright © 2017 by Suzanne Rock.
All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover Photographs: Man © Ysbrand Cosijn/Shutterstock.com; Miami © Prochasson Frederic/Shutterstock.com
eISBN 9781250117731 (ebook)
First eBook Edition: June 2017
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