Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
The city seemed subdued the next morning when Lucky finally dragged herself from bed. Her eyes felt like they had sand in them, and her reflection in the mirror made her groan. The bags under her eyes could qualify as extra luggage today.
Instead of going out early, they had to wait because of reports that traffic was still snarled at the bomb site, which was on the way to the embassy.
And since the embassy was currently in lockdown, very little traffic was getting in or out.
They might have a mission, and that mission might require the embassy’s assistance, but no one was getting in there this morning.
Lucky had a cup of strong, sweet Arab coffee that Kev brought back to the room, and then she showered and dressed in a cotton halter dress before slipping on the abaya and fixing the hijab over her hair. When she was satisfied that only her face and hands showed, she walked out of the bathroom.
Kev gave her a once over. He was sinfully handsome in khakis and a white button-down with loafers. She knew he was packing a weapon—possibly two or three—on that gorgeous frame of his.
“Isn’t that going to be hot?” he said.
She looked down at the tan garment. “Not too bad, really. And it’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
“It makes you feel safer.”
She lowered her gaze as her pulse thumped. He knew her better than she would like sometimes. “I think that’s probably obvious.”
“I understand why.”
She shrugged. “It’s silly in a way. I doubt he’s out there on the street, searching for me.”
Kev seemed to stiffen for a second, but then he went over to his gear and opened a flap on the backpack where he’d stowed his camera equipment. “No, he’s too busy for that.”
Lucky wished she could say that Al Ahmad had probably forgotten her, but she knew that wasn’t true. But he had bigger fish to fry right now, so he probably wasn’t thinking about the only person to ever escape him. Much.
“Kev?”
He looked up from the camera he was fooling with. He’d had a crash course in using this particular model, a Canon EOS professional model with different lenses and tripods, monopods, and who knows what else. He looked like a very convincing photographer to her.
Except for that bad ass I’d-tell-you-but-I’d-have-to-kill-you vibe he had going.
“Yeah?”
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
His brow furrowed. But he didn’t scoff, and he didn’t dismiss her fears as ridiculous or amateurish. “About what specifically?”
And this was the hard part. Articulating what she meant.
She’d felt uneasy since the plane landed, and she knew it was this mission and the enormity of what she had to do. But she’d felt something else, too. Some sense of unease that came from more than just the fact Al Ahmad was here and they were hunting for him.
She’d listened to the people talking in the hotel lobby, listened to the Qu’rimis and felt their fear and unease as if it were her own. They didn’t openly say the government was failing, but as the military presence grew stronger, they feared it.
And now the bomb.
“Everything,” she said. “The Qu’rimis look at us—and by us I mean the people in this hotel—with suspicion and distrust. The people—ordinary, everyday people—will start protesting in the streets soon.
Especially if there are more bombs. The entire city could implode in a matter of days if that happens. ”
He closed his eyes for a second. “Yeah, I know.”
“Al Ahmad knows it too. At a certain point, all the outside help in the world won’t prevent a revolution.
We’ve seen it happen in other places too often.
Once it begins, our government won’t step in because of the way we’ll be seen on televisions around the world.
We’ll be perceived as an Imperialist power, a heretic power come to impose our will on the people. And you know what happens then.”
“We’ll be pulled out.”
“And Al Ahmad will live to fight another day.”
The look on his face was deadly calm. “We can’t let that happen, Lucky.”
“We might not have a choice.”
And that was what scared her. Because if they had to go before they got him, she had no doubt he’d do something terrible, something the likes of which had not yet been seen. Something that would leave the world a much worse place than it currently was.
Kev came over and put his hands on her shoulders. She tried not to let his touch feel so vital, but she couldn’t help the shiver of longing that flooded her in response.
“The city hasn’t fallen apart yet and the king is still in control. Let’s get you into that school, and then let’s find that bastard.”
He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and then went back to his camera while she stood there with a knot in her throat. And not only because she feared Al Ahmad.
No, she feared Kev. The way he made her feel.
Her emotions were scraped raw in this environment.
There was no room for deceit or obfuscation.
She feared the way the simplest touch could light her up inside and make her long for so much more.
If she’d thought for one moment that a single night with him would ease this longing, she’d been very wrong.
And that scared her more than anything else could. Because it was clear he didn’t feel the same way.
It was midafternoon by the time they got into the American embassy, but they made it in after undergoing a security check and filling out what seemed like a ream of paperwork.
Kev was on edge by the time they reached the person they’d been told to see. A woman with short brown hair and an easy smile greeted them and took them into an office. Then she left them alone.
The office wasn’t especially large or interesting. It was lined with bookshelves and a large desk sat at one end. Mini American flags sat on the desk, crisscrossed, and a larger flag stood in one corner.
Lucky sat quietly with her hands in her lap, but she worried her lower lip incessantly. A nervous tic of hers. They hadn’t spoken since sitting down, but he reached over and took her hand in his. They were supposed to be newlyweds, after all, so he indulged his desire to touch her.
Her head lifted and her brown eyes met his.
He felt the jolt of that gaze all the way to his toes.
He wanted to protect her. Wanted to wrap her up in his arms and not let a damn thing happen to her.
It was a gut feeling that sat inside him like a ball of iron, especially after last night.
Between the explosion and Matt’s news that Lucky’s name had been heard in intercepted chatter, Kev was sick with the thought he might not be able to protect her.
He knew what it was like to fail at protecting someone, and he simply couldn’t make that mistake again. Not with Lucky.
He’d lost Marco. He’d lost his mom and sister. He wouldn’t lose Lucky too.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling.
He knew she was worried, but he didn’t think she was petrified.
Lucky was too tough to be petrified. Still, she had reason to worry.
Training to get Al Ahmad was one thing. Actually being in country and looking for the sick bastard was something else all together.
But it was more than that. It was her knowledge of the facts and how quickly the situation in Baq could change.
They were racing against time and they all knew it.
“Hey, what’s a husband for, right?”
She laughed softly. “A few things, I think. Dishes, yard work, fixing the car…”
He arched an eyebrow. “And hopefully a few other, more pleasant things.”
She dropped her gaze for a second but he didn’t miss the wash of color that highlighted her cheekbones. Why had he said that? Why had he reminded them both about that night?
Hell, as if he’d forgotten it for a moment. Yeah, it was best they didn’t go there again, but damn, he’d felt things with her that shocked him.
As if he’d expected anything less. He’d been fascinated with this woman from the first moment he’d met her. And he’d walked away from her when he’d never walked away from any woman in his life.
If it had been just about sex, he’d have hit it and quit it, same as he always did. Instead, he’d shoved her toward Marco and told himself he was being noble, that he was giving her a better life than he’d ever be able to offer. A better husband.
He sat there gazing into her dark eyes and feeling as if he’d been sucker punched. She meant something to him. Something more than he was prepared for.
And there was no way out, no denying it. He cared. A lot.
Her brows drew down as she watched him. “You okay, handsome?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, fine. I was just thinking.”
“Must have been serious.” She squeezed his hand and grinned, and he smiled back though it felt like it belonged on someone else’s face.
“Everything about this trip is serious.”
She sighed. “I know. I sometimes wish you’d never found me, but then I also know it’s good you did. I’ll just pretend for a moment like we really are tourists, okay?”
He wanted to reach out and touch her face, trace his fingers along her lips. But he didn’t. “Whatever it takes.”
The door opened then and a man came in. Kev stood but the guy motioned to Lucky to stay seated when she started to rise. He held out his hand and Kev shook it.
“David Capretti.”
“Kevin MacDonald. This is my wife, Lucy MacDonald.” God, that was strange to say.
“Hello, Mrs. MacDonald.”
Lucky smiled serenely, as if she were accustomed to being called Mrs. MacDonald on a regular basis. “Mr. Capretti.”
They’d agreed she would be Lucy on this mission because Al Ahmad knew that she was called Lucky. It was too unique a name to put out there, especially when they were this close to the Freedom Force’s home base.