by Linda Conrad
Be safe, Rylie. I’m on the way.
When the phone rang and startled them both, Rylie flipped around and flew down the hall away from the assassin. Running in a zigzag pattern, she worked hard to avoid the repeat horror of a knife being thrust into her back. But the heavy footsteps in the carpeting right behind her said she didn’t stand a chance. Her assailant apparently wasn’t trying for a clear shot. This man seemed to want his assault up close and personal.
Adrenaline surged through her veins as she hit the end of the hallway and dashed around the couch in the living room, trying to put some distance between herself and the attacker. Sweating profusely, she ran faster, wanting a lead that would allow her to unlock and escape out the front door.
Too late.
On the next step, her hair was grabbed roughly from behind. The surprise move yanked her head backward and made her stop in her tracks. Ignoring the pain, she planted her feet and twisted her slick, sweaty hair free of his grasp. As she jerked and turned, she swung the gym bag as hard as she could with both hands.
Her quick move surprised the assassin, and he stumbled back a step while his dagger went sailing. She would’ve tried to retrieve his blade but getting out was her first impulse. The front-door locks would take too long. Heading for the utility room back door, she scrambled into the kitchen, moving her feet faster than she’d ever thought humanly possible.
But her attacker was almost as quick. She rounded the kitchen counter, heart crashing inside her chest and her goal in sight. But she wasn’t watching her feet. Tripping over the cola can, she slipped on the tile. Down she went and slid headfirst into a cabinet. Pain drove through her shoulder, but she forced herself onto her knees and then blindly came to her feet.
Too late again. Her assailant had her cornered against the kitchen cabinets. The edges of his mouth came up in a terrifying grin while he withdrew a long, silken cord from his coat pocket. Pulling the cord taut between his two hands, the assassin came in her direction.
She tried to fight him off, digging her fingers at his eyes and kneeing him in the groin. But he was way too big. Overpowering.
Before she could slip away, he whipped the cord around her neck and drew it tight. Wildly thrashing about, trying to find something to use as a weapon, Rylie fought with everything she had. She used her nails against his hands, kicked backward at his knees and punched at his head. If she could plant her feet again, she might be able to leverage him over her shoulder. But her time was running out. She was already getting light-headed.
Out of nowhere the doorbell rang, once again startling the assassin as he turned his head toward the noise. Rylie used the momentary lapse to her best advantage.
She leaned closer to a drawer, ripped it open and pulled out a carving knife. Gasping for air, Rylie forced her arm straight out for leverage and then shoved the blade above her head as hard as she could.
Not being able to judge where she’d been thrusting, she still knew she’d hit something. The assassin screamed and the cord around her neck loosened. Just enough.
Wrenching herself from his grip, she withdrew the blade as she whipped around to face him. The assailant was holding his neck with both hands. Blood was spurting everywhere.
Horrified by what she saw, Rylie dropped the knife. When she did, the wounded man lunged toward her. His eyes were wide with pain, but the fury inside them scared her more than all the blood.
Screaming with her own rage and fear, she pushed off and shoved at his chest as hard as she could. But her blow knocked him back only momentarily. He righted himself and started for her again. But with his first step, he, too, slipped on the cola can and fell backward, hitting his head on the edge of the counter. All the air rushed out of his lungs in one big whoosh and his body spiralled to the floor like a shooting star.
Panting, gasping for air, Rylie stared down at his inert body. He wasn’t moving and she was alive.
Somewhere through the blurry haze of her mind, she realized the doorbell was still ringing and now the phone was going off, too.
Numb, Rylie stumbled to the front door. Without thinking at all, she opened the locks and threw open the door.
“Rylie…darling. What the hell happened?”
“Darin.” Flying into his arms, she began to cry.
She sank into him, sobbing and kissing his face.
“You’re okay.” His voice was steady—safe. “I’ve got you.”
Yes, he did, she thought. For good.
But unfortunately that was her last coherent thought, as everything else around her went dark.
The woman was amazing. Darin backed out of the hotel’s bedroom while Rylie headed for the shower. She swore she would be okay alone.
She’d handled a Taj Zabbar assassin. Then she’d calmly given a statement to the police. And she’d insisted she was fine when the paramedics wanted to take her to the E.R. after hearing that she’d fainted.
He guessed she could take a hot shower by herself after all that.
As for Darin, he couldn’t stop shaking.
Since her condo was still a crime scene, he’d brought her here to a long-term-stay hotel where he had a reservation. When he reached the sitting room, Darin pulled out his sat phone and called Tarik. He spent a few frustrating moments trying to explain how the men had totally missed checking on Rylie’s utility door and how that was the way her assailant had entered.
“You’re sure she’s okay?” Tarik asked again for the tenth time.
“She will be.” Darin decided right then that she would be seeing the same psychologist that he’d been seeing for post-traumatic stress.
“All right. You two had better get some sleep. This time my men will not miss anything, and they have that hotel covered. You can relax.”
Darin hung up but knew he would not be relaxing or sleeping.
He could have lost her for good.
Despite his and his brother’s best efforts.
She could’ve died.
Drawing in a ragged breath, he collapsed on the sofa as tears filled his eyes and ran over to his cheeks. He snuffled. Ran a rough hand across his eyes. Then he tried to stem the tide by biting his tongue.
But nothing worked. Frustrated, he gave in to it, curled into a tight ball and cried like he never had as a child.
Rylie sneaked out of the bathroom after her shower, expecting to find Darin asleep on the king-size bed.
“Feeling better?” He sat in the dark, the only light coming in from the open bathroom door behind her.
He was magnificent. The mere sight of him reminded her that she was alive. His features were so strong. His shoulders so broad. He was vital. Vital and totally alive.
Sitting there, he looked relaxed with his shirt and shoes off. It seemed as if he’d been thinking the same thing as she had. She had been dying to feel the warmth of his arms once again. To have him surround her, keeping her safe.
“Much better. But I’m exhausted. I don’t feel sleepy yet, but I’m so tired I can barely continue standing here.”
“Go ahead. Climb in. Sleep will do you good.” He waved at the wide stretch of clean, crisp linen, but he didn’t seem to have any intention of joining her.
Dropping her towel, she hoped the sight of her naked body would induce him—seduce him. She slid between the sheets and sighed. Loudly. In her best come-hither tones.
But Darin didn’t make a move.
She gave him a few moments and then said, “Aren’t you coming, too?”
“I’ll sit right here, making sure you’re okay. You’ll be able to sleep more soundly if you don’t have to worry about anyone sneaking up on you.”
“Darin, please.” She patted the empty spot beside her. “I need you to hold me for a while. Maybe…maybe we can talk until I stop seeing that assassin in my mind.”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. But he came into the bed still dressed in his slacks. Instead of slipping in beside her, he stiffly placed his back against the headboard.
; Rylie cuddled closer and laid her cheek against his bare chest. When she was settled, he put his arms around her.
“You’re going to be safe from now on,” he whispered. “Something like this will never happen again.”
“You can’t promise that. I know the Taj Zabbar still have a price on my head.”
Darin felt good to her. So warm. She listened to the steady beat of his heart under her ear and it anchored her to the room. To life itself.
“Your whole life must change drastically from here forward. You know that.”
“Yes, I know. I couldn’t go back to that condo now even if I thought it was safe. I would keep seeing all that blood. I’ll have to move.”
“Rylie,” he began again in the most somber tone she had ever heard him use. “It’s more than that. Much more.
“I’m sorry I left you alone in the hospital,” he confessed. “I was being an ass. But I’ve changed. Nearly losing you for good has changed me.”
She wanted to ask how, or to put in her own opinion on his leaving. But she could tell he had a lot more to say. So she kept her mouth shut, held her breath and listened.
“I won’t ever leave again. From now on I’ll be your shadow.”
“Oh, Darin…”
“Wait. There’s more. I want you to move out of the States and come to the island of Lakkion where the Kadirs have their headquarters. We can keep you safer there.”
“Hmm.” She had a feeling she knew what was next, but she wanted him to take the lead. “You make a Greek island in the Mediterranean sound like a prison. What would I do there?”
“Relax. Breathe in freedom. Know you are safe.”
She grinned against his skin but wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “Do you know that Tarik offered me a place on his covert investigations team?”
“What? No. You can’t. It’s too dangerous. I’ll give you a job on my…”
“Team?” she offered. It was all she could do to hold back the giddy chuckle.
He wanted her. This wasn’t only about keeping her safe. But he didn’t know how to say it. Rylie wasn’t sure what she truly wanted and couldn’t help him.
Darin took her by the shoulders and moved her back a little, letting him get a good look at her expression. “Maybe you would be safer if you changed your name. How does Rylie Kadir sound?”
“You think Kadir sounds safer than Hunt? You’re crazy.”
He bent his head and took her lips in one of the wildest kisses she had ever known. She responded, reveling in the sensation of being wanted so desperately. But she wanted him, too, and her eyes were wet with tears by the time they came up for air.
“Marry me.”
Gasping for air and feeling powerful, she grinned. “No.”
“No? But…I thought…” His eyes welled up and her teasing mood disappeared.
She needed to take a stand for what was right. “I’ll gladly move to Lakkion with you, Darin. I’ll work beside you, and I’ll sleep beside you. But I won’t marry you.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t know each other well enough yet. We need to have a lot of long talks. Ask me again in six months.”
He captured her lips, showing her how he felt about that. This time, the kiss was all about need. Possession.
“Just be with me, then,” he finally whispered against her lips. “I’ll change your mind.”
With that, he flipped her over and tucked her beneath him. Showing her exactly how he would change her mind and at the same time making sure she felt safe.
Rylie squeezed her eyes shut while the two of them went off into their own world. She absorbed his strength and gave him her own.
And not too long afterward, Rylie had a vision of the future. Despite not knowing each other well, she was sure what she and Darin had between them was going to last.
Maybe forever.
Epilogue
Six months later
“I call.” Tarik shoved his chips to the center of the table. “Show your cards, brother.”
Darin fanned out his cards and waited while the rest of the table groaned. His inside straight beat everyone else’s hands—without question.
Shakir and his two cousins scooted back from the table and stood to stretch.
“It’s late and I’m busted,” Shakir said. “Besides, I want to go check on that new intel Rylie found this after noon.”
Gathering the cards for another deal, Rylie glanced over at Shakir, her face contorted with concern. “You really think that list we came across of women being held for sale in Zabbaran contains a name you know?”
Shakir nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. That’s what I need to find out for sure. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
Their cousins mumbled excuses and left the table, too. That left Rylie and him—and Tarik. Darin turned his attention to his brother and glared meaningfully.
“Oh.” Tarik raised his eyebrows and was obviously fighting to keep the grin off his face. Damn him.
Yawning, Tarik drawled, “Well, I guess I’d better turn in, too.”
“Wait a second, Tarik,” Rylie said. “I wanted to know more about that operation we were talking about. Specifically, what did you find out after Karim finished decoding those Taj Zabbar papers Darin found in Geneva?”
Tarik stood but stayed next to the table. “For one thing, the Taj Zabbar suspected we’d been infiltrating their operation in Turkey.” He grinned. “We had. But we got our man out before they ever pinned him down. What they don’t know yet is that we’re infiltrating many more of their operations. I’ve even put a couple of men straight into Taj Zabbar.”
Rylie smiled at him but spoke softly. “Be careful. I know you think they’re stupid. Behind the times. But they are still extremely dangerous.”
Tarik reached over and patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t underestimate anyone with the kind of friends the Taj Zabbar has. Good night, all.” He finally left the room and closed the door behind him.
“One more hand?” Darin held his breath and prayed Rylie would say yes.
She stretched, in the that ultrasexy way of hers. “Okay. But I’m almost out of chips. What’ll I use to place a bet?”
“If I win,” he began casually, “you’ll have to do whatever I say.”
Rylie laughed and shrugged. “Oh boy. Now, what naughty things do you have in that mind of yours?”
When he only raised and lowered his eyebrows, she laughed again. “Okay. It might be fun. But if I win, you have to fix all the meals for a week.”
“Deal.”
She dealt the cards and he came up with three aces. He drew two more cards and found the fourth. Tarik had promised to fix the cards for him. Guess he’d been good as his word.
When the hand was over and she’d admitted he’d won easily, Rylie heaved a heavy sigh. “You win. Do I dare ask what you have in mind for me?”
He stood, moved closer and knelt at her feet.
She began to giggle. “Right here? You’re sure?”
Then he pulled the jeweler’s box from his pocket and her expression changed. “Oh.”
“Marry me.”
He opened the box and her eyes went wide. She took one look at the ten-carat diamond and began to cry.
“You don’t like it.” He tried to hide his disappointment. “I wanted something substantial. Like you are. I wanted something crystal clear and multifaceted. Like you. When I saw it, I was sure you’d love it, too. But you don’t. We’ll take it back.”
Tears poured down her cheeks, making his heart ache.
He took her in his arms and patted her back, hoping to stem her tears. “The ring doesn’t matter. What matters is I love you and I think you love me. It’s been six months. We’ve talked and talked until I think I’m talked out.”
Darin had never said so much to anyone. He’d told her about feeling guilty over his mother’s death. Rylie had told him about her guilt over her father. They’d cried together and vowed to keep talking
for as long as they stayed together.
Now he would be sure they stayed together forever. “And I won the bet, love. You have to marry me.”
Rylie reared back and stared at him through shining eyes. “Do you realize that’s the first time you’ve ever said you love me?” She reached for the box. “Of course I want the ring, silly. You picked it out. It’s perfect.”
He put the ring on her finger and she started to cry harder.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you,” she said through her tears. “I thought you’d changed your mind about getting married. Or that maybe you’d forgotten your promise.”
“I will never forget any of it.” He held her close and closed his eyes. “And I will always love you.”
How amazing it was that their lives had changed so dramatically. She’d once been a grief-stricken woman who couldn’t ask for help. And he had once been a detached bastard who’d needed both his ass kicked—and a big hug.
Now, after admitting they weren’t perfect, they would be able to keep each other safe. Safe and loved.
Always.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6048-5
HER SHEIK PROTECTOR
Copyright © 2010 by Linda Lucas Sankpill
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