Final Vow (5 page)

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“Oh no, y’all drank the whole thing,” Morgan Davies groaned as she looked at the empty pitcher of the Rose sisters’ special iced tea. Morgan, who was married to the eldest Davies brother, Miles, had stopped by after work to see how Bridget was doing.

Bridget
was surprised. Morgan had been friendly, but she and Miles were the quietest couple in their group. Morgan told her Annie had called and reported on the scene at the café. Having married a man who was the silent type, Morgan came to offer her support. It appeared everyone had known about the crush Bridget thought she had hidden so well. Or at least all the Davies women knew about it.

Within the hour
, all the Davies women were at the apartment. Gemma brought the tea and those who weren’t pregnant had happily poured a glass. Soon Bridget was spilling her heart. Surprisingly, she felt better. A lot better.

“
Katelyn, you look a little off. You okay?” Paige asked.

“Yeah. This kid has decided to stay in a little longer. My blad
der makes an excellent pillow.” Everyone turned to the knock at the back door. “Oh, that’s Marshall. He’s here to pick me up.” Katelyn hoisted herself up and gave Bridget a hug. “I’m so proud of you. There’s a lot we don’t know about Ahmed, but I have a feeling he’ll come around. Just know that when he does, it’ll be the hardest thing he’s ever done. You've already put him in his place. Just make sure you’re there for him when he comes to you.”

Bridget gave a little smile and walked Katelyn to the door. “Thank you. I had never thought of it like that. I don’t think it’ll happen
, though. He’s not interested in me. I’ve just been too involved in my schoolgirl crush to realize it.”

“If you say so,
” Katelyn said with a look that told Bridget she didn’t believe a word of it.

“
We’d better get going, too. You call us if you need anything at all,” Annie said before stopping and giving Bridget a hug.

Bridget waved goodbye to the group of women and locked the door. It took heartbreak, but she
had gained friends. Real friends. Tonight she felt as if she were truly a part of them. She made her way to the bedroom and closed the door. Marko had fallen asleep an hour ago and was snoring away on the bed. She kicked off her pants and pulled her shirt over her head then padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Stepping under the hot spray let her muscles relax.

Ahmed took a sip of beer and dropped his head against the back of his couch. What had happened today? He’d been ambushed by the town and beaten up by the woman he loved. And she said that she loved him.

What had he done when she had the courage to confess her love? He’d sent her away. But, he had to. He couldn’t put her in danger. He had to keep her safe and the only way to do that was
to keep her away from him.

Zoti’s head shot up and a low growl resonated from his throat.
Ahmed’s eyes snapped open and he pulled his gun. Zoti got off the couch and slowly made his way to the door. His nose sniffed the air and he growled again. Someone was outside.

Ahmed hugged
the wall, avoiding the windows as he made his way to the front door. He barely moved the curtain and looked out into the dark night. He didn’t see anyone. He opened the door and looked out and then down. He felt the blood rush from his head as he stared at the blanket folded around a picture. The picture was of Bridget and the blanket that was wrapped around it was his son’s.

CHAPTER FIVE

Bridget
leaned her head under the spray and washed the shampoo from her hair. The shower had relaxed her a bit, but it hadn’t given her any ideas for erasing Ahmed from her mind. Slowly, she became angry with herself for not being able to move on from the feelings she had developed over the hours they’d spent together every week.

Water trickled down her body as she reached for the conditioner and froze. The house’s feel had changed
suddenly. It could have been the squeak of the door or the creak of a floorboard, but it was enough to cause Bridget to step out of the shower, grab the gun from the sink, and dart behind the bathroom door. Where was Marko? She only prayed that the intruder hadn’t harmed him. It was strange that he hadn’t barked.

She watched the doorknob slowly and quietly turn. The door swung open and stopped just before it hit her. A shadow entered the room and stopped. She couldn’t see
who it belonged to but suddenly a hand was on the door and it was slammed shut.

“
Drop the gun,” she said coolly as she leveled the gun at the intruder’s heart.

“With pleasure,” Ahmed lowered his gun and slid it back into his holster as he rocked back on his heels. Bridget felt his eyes travel the length of her naked body. His eyes darkened
and she flushed as she saw his reaction to her. Maybe he wasn’t so unaffected after all.

Bridget
lowered her gun while ignoring the fact she was nude. She’d been in war with men. Modesty went out the window when you had to go to the bathroom in the desert without a palm tree in sight. “What are you doing sneaking into my bathroom? I could have killed you.”

“Most women don’t take a gun into the shower with them,” Ahmed replied as his eyes dropped down her body once again.
Marko trotted into the room and nudged Ahmed’s hand, demanding an ear rub. Her traitorous dog was so not sharing her pillow tonight.

“Well, I’m not most women,” Brid
get said a little breathlessly.

The way he looked at h
er was enough to set her afire. “No, you certainly aren’t,” he said with a hint of admiration in his rough voice.

Bridget swallowed hard
, refusing to lose control. She had to remember he was the one putting the distance between them, so she shouldn't fling herself onto him.

“Then
can I ask what you’re doing in my bathroom with a gun? Do you normally break into women’s apartments while they’re in the shower?” Bridget saw his eyes momentarily flash before his impenetrable mask fell back into place. “Oh my gosh. You’ve done this before,” she accused as she put her hands on her hips and stared him down.

“That situation was very much like this one. The woman was in danger
.”

“The only dan
ger I’m in is of shooting you.”

“You can do that after I take you someplace safe.”

“I’ll do it right now if you don’t start explaining yourself, Mr. Badass. You think you can just come into my house and order me around? I’m not some mindless little girl who does what daddy orders. I can take care of myself.”

Ahmed reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded picture. He held it up and unfolded it. Bridget looked at the picture of herself smiling at her
back door. It was from tonight when she was saying goodbye to the girls. “This was at my front door wrapped in a blanket—my murdered son’s blanket.”

Bridget didn’t blink. She didn’t even swear. Instead she let out a breath
and gave a slight nod of her head. “I’ll meet you in the living room.”

Ahmed looked at Bridget standing confidently in the nude with nothing but a gun on and didn’t move. She’d just dismissed him, but he was having trouble leaving. He'd spent the last eighteen years of his life learning how to control emotions and desires, but right now all his training was going out the window. He wanted to kiss Bridget with every ounce of pent-up feelings he had. He wanted to cup her breasts and caress them with his tongue. She was perfect. Her breasts were larger than he thought. She must have hidden them under sports bras. And the curve of her hips begged him to place his hand there and pull her close.

When Bridget le
t out an impatient sigh, he snapped out of his daydream and reluctantly left the room. It took everything he had not to strip and join her in the shower. Just one more reason he really needed to kill Sergei.

Ahmed
reluctantly walked out of her room and ended up pacing in the living room as he waited for Bridget. Not only was he sexually frustrated, he was also more worried than he would care to admit. He and Bridget had spent hours and hours together every week for months. Just her presence had seemed to comfort his wounded soul and give him hope for a future he had never dreamed he could have. He was being forced to face his past failures. He hadn’t been able to keep his wife and son alive and now Sergei was challenging him to keep Bridget alive.

He turned at t
he sound of bare feet padding down the carpeted hall and saw Bridget coming toward him. Her athletic frame was highlighted by tight black running pants and a fitted, light-pink, deep V-neck T-shirt. Her long wet hair had been pulled back into a single braid that hung down her back.

“Tell me about your son.” Bridget sat down on the couch but Ahmed couldn’t
tell this story while sitting.

He paced in front of her and then stopped as he looked out the back window. “
I was married on my eighteenth birthday.” He didn’t need to look at her to know she was surprised. He heard it in the way her breathing suddenly halted. “It was an arranged marriage between two overbearing fathers. I didn’t want her, she didn’t want me,” Ahmed began. He started pacing again as he told her of his wife who hated him and the child he had only gotten to hold once.

“And this,” Ahmed raised the blanket, “was my son’s blanket. I had swaddled him in it myself. I found it on my doorstep with this picture of you inside it. It’s a clear sign
that Sergei is coming after you. He’s challenging me to protect you because I failed to protect my wife and son.”

“But why is Sergei coming after me? Sure
, I helped you with his previous boss, but could he really know that? Does that mean everyone who helped rescue Gemma is now in danger?” Bridget asked. He finally looked at her. He should have known better than to expect her to leap into his arms asking for protection. Instead she was calm and completely sensible.

“He had Rana
hire you to get a reaction. And with the reaction he got, Sergei knew . . .” Ahmed stopped before confessing his own feelings for Bridget.

“Knew that I love
d you and therefore would punish me,” Bridget completed as she stood up. “And that’s what Rana meant when he asked if you could protect me.”

“Yes and no.” Ahmed looked at her. She had said she loved him, but would she still after all this was said and done?

“What do you mean?” Bridget stepped closer to him to pick up the picture of herself.

“Yes, this is what Rana meant. No, it wasn’t about your feelings.” Ahmed pulled out his phone and called Nabi. “I need
two men over at Bridget’s for the night—front and back,” he told Nabi before hanging up the phone.

“I don’t need people outside protecting me. I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself. And what do you mean it’s not about me?”

“I know you’re capable of protecting yourself. It’s why I’m going against all my instincts and letting you stay here instead of throwing you over my shoulder and taking you someplace safe.”

Ahmed couldn’t stop himself from stepping
toward her. He brushed a loose piece of hair from Bridget’s cheek and cupped her face in his hands. Looking down at her he could see the battle of emotions on her face. She loved him and that knowledge bolstered his determination. “Bridget . . .” He said her name with the love he felt but couldn’t voice.

“Yes?”

Ahmed ran his thumb over her cheek and when she tilted her head toward him he did something he hadn’t done for eighteen years. He gave in to his desire. Lowering his lips, he gently placed them on hers. When she stepped into his arms, her hands hesitantly on his chest, he could no longer stop himself. It would be impossible to stop at one brush of the lips as he felt her soft body and warmth against his hardness.

Hi
s hands delved into her hair as he tilted her head farther in order to deepen the kiss. Ahmed ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and when she opened to him he took full control of the kiss. She tasted like heaven. After living in hell for most of his life, he didn’t want it to end.

Ahmed pulled her close to him and ran his hands down her back. Bridget moved her arms to his back and clung to him as she unconsciously
pressed against him in need. Excitement coursed through him. He had to have her closer to him. Ahmed gently pushed her back against the wall and let some of his body weight press against her as he explored her with his hands.

With one hand Bridget
grasped his hair and the other she ran over his shoulders. He felt one leg hook against his waist and he ran his hand up the back of her thigh until he was able to caress her bottom. Ahmed thrust himself forward and Bridget moaned into his mouth while he grabbed her other leg. She wrapped her legs around him and he pinned her to the wall with his lower body holding her up by her bottom.

“Ahem.
”

In one quick move
, Ahmed dropped Bridget against the wall and covered her with his body while drawing his gun. He felt her steady herself with a hand to his shoulder, but when he saw her gun was similarly drawn and held out to his side he knew the tap was to let him know she had his back. It was a common technique used in the military.

“I a
m sorry to interrupt, but no one responded when I knocked. I got worried.”

“Mo?” Bridg
et asked as her head popped up.

“Nabi told me you needed security and I wanted
to see if there was anything I could do. But, it seems Ahmed has things well in hand.”

Ahmed lowered his weapon and glared at his best friend. He felt a shove and realized Bridget was trying to get around him. He took a step forward and Bridget stepped out and slid the gun into the small of her back. How had he not felt that? He had been so caught up in the feel and taste of her
that he had become oblivious to his surroundings. He could have gotten them killed. Ahmed felt the anger and resentment build. He had failed this test and he had failed himself yet again.

“Please, come in,” Bridget said politely as
she straightened her hair.

“No,” Ahmed said shortly. “I have business with Mohtadi that I need to discuss in private. Goodnight.” Ahmed gave her a quick bow of his head and shoved his friend out the door.
He’d never been so angry with himself. He could have gotten her killed tonight if Sergei had shown up.

The crisp night air soothed him as Ahmed tried to calm down. All those years of training and he’d thrown them out the window the second she looked at him. How was he going to keep her safe while keeping his distance?

“Care to tell me what was going on in there?” Mo asked quietly
, knowing Ahmed’s posture was radiating with anger.

“Sergei
threatened her.” Ahmed handed him the photo and the blanket. “And I was too busy giving in to my fantasy that I dropped my guard. I’ve never let that happen since . . .”

“Since your son was killed. I take it this
is his?” Mo asked with sadness.

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m glad I came then. Your brother called. There are rumors of my cousin Sarif growing unhappy again. He’s heading to the UN to make an appeal to grant him the right to control Rahmi.”

“
On what grounds?”

“He i
s trying to claim that my grandfather was born second and his own father was, in fact, born first. I’m so relieved my boys will not face this. Grandfather was born eighty-seven seconds before Sarif’s father, but he has always said it was a lie. That the nurses got the order mixed up on the birth certificates. However, Grandfather was a smart man. When he was just a teenager, he knew this would eventually happen. His twin was resentful of being only seconds away from the crown and not having any of the power that went along with it.

“My g
randfather persuaded my parents to find a very favorable marriage for him. Hence, he ended up marrying a queen. But my grandfather also gathered the doctor, nurse, and his parents to write out affidavits stating they knew him to be the first-born. Prayers were said and it was observed the baby had a birthmark in the shape of Rahmi, which they took as a sign that he would be a good ruler. A birthmark that not only my Grandfather had, but my father, my brothers, and I all have along with my sons. However, Sarif’s side of the family did not inherit this birthmark.”

“Does Sarif know about this?”
Ahmed asked.

“No. And that i
s why your brother called. He wants you to go to the UN and stop Sarif before he makes his address. It’s just an embarrassment to my father and during this turbulent economic time, he doesn’t want oil investors thinking we’re weak.”