Special Deliveries: Heir To His Legacy. Elizabeth Lane
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decline if you were.”
The statement hit her right in the feminine ego. Not that she should be surprised by it. Men like Sayid hardly went for slightly chubby gingers who preferred Bunsen burners to boys and who had never even engaged in a good make out session.
“Well… moot. Because I already said I’m not inviting. Nope.”
“Good,” he snapped. Clipped. Hard.
Her cheeks heated, mortification washing over her, and it just served to make her even more angry. She shouldn’t care that he didn’t want to have sex with her, she didn’t want to have sex with him! Well, she wouldn’t have sex with him.
Maybe she sort of wanted to kiss him. At least, she wondered what it would be like to press her mouth to those hard, sculpted lips. To run her fingertip along the line of his jaw.
But that was all. Just idle wondering about a little kiss. Which was completely understandable. And normal. Lots of women probably thought about kissing him. And that, again, came back to biology because it certainly wasn’t his sparkling personality.
“Fine. Well, I’m leaving now. Not running, mind you. Especially since we established that you aren’t after my body.”
“Have a good evening,” he said, lips tight.
“Sure,” she tossed back, turning and stalking out of the room.
As soon as she got into the corridor, she stopped and leaned against the wall, hand on her chest, trying to still the beating of her heart. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, in and out. She felt dizzy.
She had to get a handle on this. And she would. The physical had never mattered to her, and it wouldn’t start mattering now.
It couldn’t.
Sayid needed a cold shower. But he had a call to make first. He paced the length of his office and punched in the speed dial for Alik Vasin.
“Da?”
“Vasin?” Sayid knew his friend’s voice, but wanted to get confirmation anyway. A formality that was necessary when a man did the sort of work Alik did. Or at least, had done. He knew the ex-mercenary wasn’t for hire anymore, not in that capacity. At least, not officially.
Sayid had hired him for his last job of that kind, and an unlikely bond had grown from there. Especially since Alik had been the one to spearhead the mission to get Sayid out of the enemy camp. Since Alik had been the one to find him, to keep looking when everyone else had given up.
“Da.” There was music in the background, a woman speaking a language Sayid couldn’t place, and then the sound of a door closing and the noise ending.
“Thank you for finding him.”
“It is nothing. Easy.”
“For you.” Alik was Sayid’s closest friend. A brother in many ways, more than Rashid had been even.
“For anyone. She was practically in the phone book.”
“She wants to stay.”
“With the boy?”
“Yes.”
Alik let out a short grunt that could have meant approval, disapproval or something completely neutral. “I didn’t figure she would want to stay because of you. And what did you tell her?”
“If I am to keep Rashid’s secret, having her here could be problematic.”
“Yeah, it could be.” There was a pause. “You are avoiding my question which only piques my curiosity. What did you tell her?”
“I asked her to be my wife.”
His friend laughed, genuine, filled with humor. He wasn’t sure how Alik did it. How he had lived through all of the things he had, seen and done the things he’d seen and done, and emerged with a smile. Alik lived fast and hard. Honor falling far behind pleasure on his list of important things in life.
Sayid envied him sometimes. Envied the ease with which the other man lived. That he was able to somehow be invincible, and a man, at the same time.
“That’s a bad idea, comrade. There is nothing worse than a wife.”
“Have you ever had one?”
“No. And not by accident.”
“Then how do you know?”
“I know because there is a blonde in my room tonight, and last weekend there was a brunette. Tomorrow, who knows? You cannot have that if you’re married.”
“Some men do.”
“Then what is the point of making vows? I never made a vow I didn’t keep.”
“You don’t make many vows.”
Alik laughed again. “No. No, I don’t.”
“You made one to me.”
“I did. And I did not make it lightly. You have my loyalty. Whatever you need, consider it done.”
“And you have mine. There will be a wedding. A small one, out of observance for Rashid’s death.”
“You need security,” Alik said.
“Naturally.”
“You want me.”
“Of course.”
“Is this your version of asking me to be best man?”
The corners of Sayid’s mouth twitched, the closest thing to a real smile he’d managed in too many years to count. “Best man with a handgun.”
Sayid heard a door open on the other end of the line, the music, the woman, again. Then finally, Alik responded. “I’ll do it.”
For the second time in her life, Chloe watched her life change through a news story. It was all over the TV. An announcement that interim ruler of Attar, Sheikh Sayid al Kadar, was taking a wife. The hero nanny who had disregarded her own safety to protect the miracle prince.
She felt her jaw go slack as the story played across the screen. As a picture of her flashed onto it. Then a picture of Sayid. She cringed at the sight of herself, squeezed into the only dress she had. She still wasn’t used to her fuller figure, and she could hardly call herself a fan of the look.
The female anchor was making eye contract with the camera, and talking about Chloe. A surreal experience for sure. “The stoic regent of Attar has announced his engagement to the heroine of the people, Chloe James, a part-time nanny and science student from Portland, Oregon. The wedding will be a small affair, appropriate for a nation still in mourning, and will take place a week from Saturday.”
“Ugh.” She groaned and turned the TV off, then turned around to face her whiteboard again. She’d been working an equation as part of her course work for half the morning while Aden lay on a blanket on the floor, kicking his feet in a slow, jerky fashion.
She leaned in and put her pen on the surface, trying to wipe the images on the screen from her mind, which was completely impossible to do. Completely.
She looked back at Aden, tugging her glasses off. “What am I getting myself into?” she asked. She got nothing from him, his blue eyes scanning the room, his fist finding his mouth.
Chloe blew out a breath. “No advice?”
“Why exactly do you need advice?”
She turned and saw Sayid striding toward her with purpose and that maddening self-assurance of his.
“I just saw my engagement announcement on the news,” she said. “Along with the information that our wedding is less than a week away. Imagine my surprise.”
“Why wait?”
“I don’t know. There’s no reason to, I suppose.”