Final Vow (7 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ahmed stood still as he waited for the representative of the
sheik. After a phone call from Mo to the ambassador of Saudi Arabia, Ahmed had headed over to the embassy to meet with him. He stood in the luxurious sitting room and glanced around at the pillowed couches with gold accents. A large table sat next to a fireplace with a roaring fire inside. The table had an ornate chair at the head that he assumed was for the sheik or his representative.

The door opened and Ahmed turned and bowed to the group of men who entered. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“Of course. Rahmi is a neighbor of ours. What was so important that it could not wait?” the representative asked as he took a seat in the elaborately carved chair at the head of the table.

Ahmed bowed his head
, asking permission to sit. The man lowered his chin to his chest quickly and Ahmed took a seat. “I’m afraid it is in regard to King Sarif. We have heard he intends to speak at the United Nations this afternoon to lay out his case for a coup in Rahmi.”

“We have heard this, too.”

“But, what you haven’t heard is there is evidence his claims to the throne are nothing more than delusions of a greedy and irresponsible man longing only for power.” Ahmed kept his eyes locked with the representative and then handed the package of copied documents to one of the men surrounding the room.

The man took the package
, walked around the table to his boss, and handed it to him. The room was silent except for the sound of each page being placed on the table as the man read through the package.

“This is very interesting, Mr. Ahmed.”

“It’s just Ahmed. His Royal Highness King Ali Rahman felt he could trust you and your sheik with this information. His Royal Highness does not like to discuss such family matters in public. I am sure you understand.”

“Yes. His Highness does understand and does not wish to be involved in family squabbles. He has enough of his own to deal with.”

“King Ali Rahman is sympathetic to that and wishes to keep our relations strong. His daughter speaks highly of your country since she married one of the sheik’s sons and the king wishes me to convey that should the sheik desire to meet, he’ll be more than welcome at the palace.”

With a nod from the representative, Ahmed stood up and gave a slight bow before turning to leave. “Ahmed, the Sheik of Sheiks also bid me to invite you to
our palace should you tire of life in the United States.”

“Thank you for such an honor.” Ahmed bowed again. The
sheik had been trying to lure him away from Rahmi for years. It was now almost a joke between them. As Ahmed headed out of the room, he heard the representative order one of his men to call King Sarif and tell him the sheik had withdrawn his support for Sarif’s appearance before the UN and to cancel their meeting.

Ahmed dialed his phone as he walked down the street, waiting
for Mo to pick up. “It’s done. Saudi Arabia is withdrawing their support. And tell your father to invite the sheik to the palace. I got the impression it would be a welcome break from his own family matters.”

* * *

Bridget pulled the collar of her jacket up and pushed herself farther down the cold, damp path. The sun had set hours ago, but the path in Central Park was lined with lampposts as she and Marko ran off the frustrations of the day.

Just as she thought, Ahmed had left no clues as to his identity. Secret Service had found the car just a mile away. It had been wiped clean and left with a full tank of gas. The owner of the car had been identified as eighty-three
-year-old Zelda Barkowitz of Upper Manhattan. After meeting with her, Agent Woodberry’s ego had been deflated. While he’d been credited with the capture of the man with ties to Sergei’s terrorist group, he had been thwarted in identifying the driver of the vehicle.

Bridget had been left with the group of agents who looked after the
vice president during his speech. Afterward, she had finished her security detail and had heard from agents that the terrorist they captured was unwilling to talk about the driver of the car. Bridget had smiled as she said goodnight and headed back to her hotel.

She’d opened the door, flipped on the lights
, and let out a frustrated breath. She felt foolish as she looked around her empty room, as a part of her had expected to find Ahmed sitting in the chair waiting to see her. Marko had grabbed his toy and started to leap around the room with pent-up energy. Bridget, too, had pent-up frustration not knowing Ahmed’s whereabouts. So, she’d put on her tennis shoes and had taken Marko for a run.

Marko trotted happily by her side as they shot out of Central Park and ran down Fifth Avenue. It was only a little over a mile and a half to her hotel from there and Marko was happy for the opportunity to stretch his legs even more.

Bridget weaved her way around the people walking down the sidewalk as she drew closer to
her hotel. She slowed to a walk as the hotel came into view. Marko nudged her leg with his head as his tongue lolled out of his mouth.

“Come on, big boy. Let
’s get you some dinner and me a shower.”

Bridget pushed through the door and
the two of them rode the elevator to her room. Opening her door, she once again felt disappointed when she found it empty. After feeding Marko, she stripped off her shirt and made her way to the bathroom, leaving her running attire strewn along the floor.

The hot water felt great after her run. She was surprised
, though, that Ahmed hadn’t come yet. She had been so sure that he would find her. The longer she thought about it, the more she talked herself out of it. He hadn’t bothered to tell her where he was going or even that he was leaving.

The shower curtain rustled and Bridget smiled as she turned. Ahmed had finally come. The curtain was pushed open and a black nose poked through
, followed by Marko’s happy face. He looked up at Bridget and she heard his tail thump the tiled floor.

“I guess
it’s just you and me tonight.”

Bridget turned off the w
ater and got out of the shower. Her stomach rumbled as she dried her hair and got dressed in a light sweater and a pair of jeans. “I’ll be right back, boy,” she cooed to Marko as she shut the door to his crate.

The restaurant in the hotel was filled with a mix of lawyers,
businessmen, politicians, security, and tourists. She waved at the table of Secret Service men who had been brought up from Washington for the week and took a seat at the bar.

“What can I get for you?”
the bartender asked as he checked her out.

“Two burgers to go, please.” He gave her a smile and went to place the order. Bridget kept glancing at the entrance. She knew Ahmed wasn’t coming, but she couldn’t stop hoping she was
wrong. She wanted to feel him to make sure he was safe. She wanted to find out what she could do to help. There were few things worse than not knowing the whole story when she was involved in it.

“Here are
your burgers. Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a drink? My shift ends in fifteen minutes,” the handsome bartender asked. Bridget felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to men asking her out.

“What? Springer’s getting hit on
.”

“Shut up, Sweeney.” Bridget sto
od up and gave the bartender an embarrassed little smile as the table of agents whooped with laughter. “Thanks for asking. Goodnight.” Bridget flipped off the table of agents making kissy noises as she walked by them. And her friends wondered why she hadn’t dated much.

“I’m back,” Bridget called out to Marko as she pushed the door open with her should
er, balancing the burgers.

“What are you doing here?”

Bridget’s eyes shot up and met Ahmed’s angry eyes.

“Ho
w did you find me?” he accused.

Bridget refused to recoil at his anger. “I’m working. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You knew I was here. I saw you this morning. You weren’t surprised at all when I dumped Sergei’s man at your feet.”

“You’re not the only one with sources. And I’m trying to hel
p you. Unfortunately, you’re too blinded by revenge to notice I could be an asset to you.”

“I don’t need your help. I work alone.” Ahmed pushed away from the window and strode toward
her.

“Not when it involves
us, you don’t.” Bridget held her ground. He may look as if he could explode at any moment, but she knew there was a caring heart buried underneath all that anger. His freezing glare and deadly voice didn’t scare her. Instead it pissed her off.

“There is no us. You’re only putting yourself in danger coming here. You need to go home right now.”

“I know exactly what I'm doing. Can you say the same? And you can forget about me going home. I’m staying until
we
catch Sergei.”

Ahmed stopped in front of her and stared her down. Bridget just stared back, ignoring the fact he was standing close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Simple. I told you I love you. Do you think I’m so weak that I’d just sit at home while some crazy man is out there trying to kill us? I was taught to strike first, and if you’re not going to work with me, I’ll just do it myself.”

“It’s not your fight
.”

“It is now
, so get over this lone-wolf act. I love you. You’re not alone. Now deal with it,” Bridget yelled. She felt steam practically blowing from her ears as she pushed past him.

Ahmed grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
Bridget’s hands curled into his shirt to keep from falling. She felt his heart beating and the dips and ridges of his body under her hands. Bridget swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as she looked up into his dark eyes. Gone was the anger; gone was the steely determination of revenge. In its place was a look of such kindness Bridget felt she’d melt.

He lowered his head
toward hers, gently brushing his lips against hers. His hold loosened until he was trailing his fingers lightly down her arms. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Reaching up, Bridget cupped his face and made him look at her. His eyes were tired. His five-o’clock shadow tickled her hand as she traced his bottom lip with her thumb. Right then she knew she had made the right decision. Ahmed had been alone for so long he didn’t know how to ask for help. The conflicted man she held needed help even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Ahmed turned his head in her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. Bridget raised her lips and kissed him. He may not love her
; he may not even be capable of love. But she had enough love for them both. She felt his muscles relax under her touch as he lost himself in the kiss. Their tongues slowly explored each other as their hands traveled over each other’s arms and back.

When Bridget ran her hand down the ripples of his stomach toward his pants
, his kiss turned from soft exploration to a demanding lover. Bridget’s heart pounded as she, too, grew demanding. She freed his shirt from his pants and pulled the black, tight, long-sleeved shirt over his head so she could finally see what she’d been feeling. His hands were on her then, fast and eager, as they slid under her sweater.

“Springer? Come on
, open the door. I hear you in there. Are you getting naked for me?” Bridget and Ahmed froze, and she groaned the second she saw his eyes cloud over and felt his muscles tense up. She felt him practically growl.

“Don’t move, please. It’s just assignments for tomorrow,” Bridget said in
the calm voice she used when trying to reassure the dogs she trained. “Coming,” she snapped, all the while keeping her eyes locked on Ahmed’s.

“He’s a dead man.”

“No, he’s just an idiot. He’s harmless.”

He shook h
is head and she knew she had lost him. “I can’t be distracted like this. Go home. Please.” He turned and walked through the connecting door she hadn’t even realized had been opened. Within seconds he had disappeared behind closed doors and locks.

“
Springer, stop primping and open the door. I’ll screw you no matter what you’re wearing . . . or not wearing.”

Bridget
yanked open the door with such force he stepped back a bit. “Dammit, Sweeney, what do you want?”

“Here
are your assignments for tomorrow. What, are you on the rag?” Sweeney smirked. She was sure he’d been the guy in college who popped his collar and thought he was so awesome. He’d been riding her hard during the whole assignment—teasing her at every opportunity. He asked where she hid her tampons and who she'd slept with to be up here playing with the big boys.

“No, I’m just tired of putting up with your bullshit. Insecure men
with small dicks who don’t know how to use them are a pain in the ass.” She slammed the door in his face and fell back onto the bed in a huff. One good thing about being private security was if she got fired, she wouldn’t be court-martialed.

Ahmed smirked as he listened to Bridget unload on Agent Sweeney. He had been tempted to make the man disappear, but she seemed to be handling him all on her own. He tossed his shirt onto the chair by the bed, kicked off his shoes, and finished what Bridget started. Once naked, he paused at the connecting doors once again. She was just a couple of inches away from him and the thought made him reach for the doorknob.