Ingrid Weaver – Aim for the Heart (страница 7)

Chapter 3

The moment took on the slow-motion quality of hyperawareness. Sarah’s senses registered everything, from the whisper of settling fabric around her to the lilting strains of the Mozart bagatelle that still played in the ballroom. The receiver in her ear carried a low buzz of inquiry from the hotel security staff who were posted around the exits. They suspected there had been some kind of commotion, but they were unaware of its nature. A human wall draped in white screened their view.

She felt Prince Jibril stir. She knew very well that what she was doing could spark an international incident, but Hawk’s safety was her prime concern. She repositioned her gun beneath the prince’s ear and flicked her gaze across the men who surrounded them. She checked their eyes, searching for a sign that would give away their next move. She was outnumbered and outmuscled. She couldn’t hope to overpower them. She had to play her advantage carefully. “Tell them to release Dr. Lemay, Your Highness.”

“Madam, you are making a serious mistake,” Jibril said.

The prince’s voice was high-pitched for a tall man. His words carried an Oxford accent. Sarah couldn’t tell whether it was fear or anger that tightened his tone. “If I am mistaken, I sincerely apologize,” she said. “But please do as I say. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

The moment dragged out. Sarah kept her breathing even, charging her blood with oxygen, preparing herself for any eventuality. Scenarios flashed through her head, none of them good. Without back-up, standoffs were risky. There were too many variables.

The prince gave a curt order in Arabic. From the corner of her vision, Sarah saw the men holding Hawk let go of his arms and step aside. He seemed uninjured, but she couldn’t spare the time to study him. She kept her attention on the prince’s bodyguards.

They were regarding her with stunned outrage, as if a chair or a hand towel had suddenly developed teeth and bit them.

“Sarah.” Hawk’s voice was a low rumble.

Although she still couldn’t afford to look at him, she responded immediately. She had to let the prince’s men know who was in authority. “Yes, sir?”

“It’s all right. You can put away your weapon.”

She tipped her gun toward the ceiling and took a step to the side, but she remained within easy reach of the prince, her muscles poised to react. This was the trickiest part, like dismounting from a tiger. “It appeared as if Prince Jibril’s men were trying to abduct you, Dr. Lemay.”

The prince gave a barking laugh. “Is that what this is about? Abduct Hawkins? Oh, not at all. I gave orders to escort him from this noisy crowd so we could speak in private.” He spread his hands wide in a gesture of appeasement. “In their zeal to obey me, my men obviously gave the wrong impression.”

Sarah shifted her gaze to the prince. The man was smiling at Hawk, his teeth a white slash in his beard, his black gaze rock steady as he told the lie.

“You’ll have to excuse Sarah, Jibril,” Hawk said, brushing off his sleeves. He straightened his jacket. “She has declared herself to be my bodyguard, and she tends to overreact.”

“An interesting choice, Hawkins. I see the years have not changed your eye for beauty.”

“Nor your appreciation of it. Sarah is very dedicated to her job.”

“And equally as prone to mistakes in her zeal as my palace guard. I do hope those dolts didn’t alarm you.”

Sarah took another look at the men around them. They belonged to the Moukim palace guard? She had been in more trouble than she’d initially thought. These were commandos whose reputation as fighters compared to Eagle Squadron’s best.

“I would like to invite you back to my yacht, Hawkins, so we can converse undisturbed,” the prince continued. “But I wouldn’t want your rather, ah, impetuous pet to misunderstand my intentions again.”

“Sarah,” Hawk said. “Put your gun away. It isn’t necessary.”

“Certainly, sir, as soon as Prince Jibril tells his guards to give us more space,” she said, keeping her voice as neutral as possible. “Just to be sure there isn’t another misunderstanding.”

“Jibril?” Hawk asked. “Would you mind humoring her?”

“For you, my old friend, anything.” The prince issued more orders. The men fell back two paces, opening the circle.

As soon as they moved, inquiries crackled over the radio. Sarah saw the hotel security personnel converging on them from the perimeter of the room. Nearby conversations tapered off as guests paused to follow their progress. Within seconds every face in the ballroom was turned toward them.

Satisfied that the several hundred reputable eyewitnesses were swinging the odds back in their favor, Sarah slipped her weapon into the holster on her right leg, twitched her skirt back into place and returned to Hawk’s side.

The moment she was within his reach, Hawk grabbed her gun hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. When she tried to ease away, he pressed her fingers to his sleeve and trapped her wrist against his ribs. Beneath his jacket, his arm was corded steel.

She did a rapid survey of the area, momentarily concerned she had missed some other potential threat, but everything appeared clear. She tipped up her chin to look at him.

It was the first time she’d regarded him directly since the incident had begun. His lips were thinned and his jaw was clenched. The corner of one eye twitched. He dipped his head close to her ear. “This afternoon I wondered whether you were suicidal or just plain crazy,” he muttered. “Now I know you’re both. Don’t move.”

Before she could respond, Hawk released her and stepped forward to shake the prince’s hand. “Jibril, it’s good to see you.”

The prince clasped Hawk’s shoulder. “And you too, Hawkins. How long has it been? Ten years?”

“Fourteen.” He drew back and grasped Jibril’s arm. “You have my deepest apologies for the mix-up. This wasn’t the greeting I would have hoped for.”

“Think nothing of it, my friend. It was rather entertaining. A novel experience.”

“You’re gracious, as always, Jibril.”

The first of the hotel security guards arrived then. Sarah still didn’t like the situation, but she decided matters were under control, now that they were no longer hidden from view. Even a man as powerful as the Moukim crown prince wouldn’t attempt anything overtly hostile in such a public place. She explained to the security staff that it was a false alarm and thanked them for their concern, yet she didn’t relax for an instant.

The glares she was receiving from Jibril’s palace guard were making the hair at the back of her neck tingle. By besting them, however fleetingly, she had not only hurt their male egos, she’d damaged their professional pride. She knew the military mind-set. This insult would not be forgotten.

But it was the emotions she saw when she met Hawk’s gaze that could present a bigger problem.

The danger was far from over. It was only beginning.

Hawk paced across the sitting room, but the suite was too small. He yanked off his tie, balled it in his fist and threw it on the floor, then pivoted and paced to the door. What he really needed was a good, long run to clear his head. Work off the restlessness, the frustration, the fear.

Yes, fear. That was at the root of his anger.

Sarah could have been killed. Any one of Jibril’s guards could have snapped that beautiful neck of hers with one blow. It was a miracle that she had escaped the situation unscathed.

She was an idiot. A madwoman. She’d risked her life unnecessarily because she’d thought she was saving his.

Again.

He hadn’t anticipated this when he’d decided to keep her. He should have thought it through instead of being swayed by the chemistry that was going on between them. Whether the threat to his life was real or not, Sarah was managing to place herself in danger simply because she was so determined to do her job.

Whatever that was.

Damn! He turned away from the door and strode to the sofa. He couldn’t go for a run. He had given Sarah his word that he would remain here. He wasn’t going to add lies of his own to the mix. And who knew what Sarah would do if she came out of the bathroom and found him gone? Would she follow him? Or would she take advantage of the opportunity to hack into his computer?

He peeled off his jacket and looked at the bedroom doorway. Just how dedicated a soldier was she? Could she really have accosted Moukim royalty merely to reinforce her cover story? If so, she’d been a brilliant performer. A true method actor. She’d been completely convincing, from her fighter’s stance to her coolly assessing gaze. And then there had been the way she’d kicked aside her skirt with no regard to modesty.

He dropped his jacket on the back of the sofa. He rubbed his face, forcing himself to take deep breaths. What was wrong with him? The standoff he’d witnessed tonight could have ended in tragedy if Jibril hadn’t decided to defuse the situation, so how could Hawk think of Sarah’s legs?

Yet the image of all that bare skin wouldn’t go away. It had been burned into his memory: delicate ankles, slender calves, taut thighs…with two wide bands of black elastic circling the right one to hold her holster in place. And before her skirt had settled, there had been a glimpse of pale peach lace where her thighs met.