by Lora Leigh
Okay, she was going to get through this. She wasn't hurt, just a little shaken.
"Agent Mathews, an ambulance is on its way." The officer pulled the car door open and knelt beside her.
"Witnesses." She breathed through her nose to get past the rising nausea. "Plates on that car."
"My partner's getting statements on it," he assured her, rising and backing up as she started to pull herself out of the car. "You should stay put until the ambulance arrives, Agent Mathews," she was advised. "They're on their way."
"I'm fine." She waved his advice away but accepted his arm as he helped her step from the vehicle. "Did they get away?"
Of course they had gotten away. She couldn't have been lucky enough that they had actually stuck around to be arrested and interrogated. Hell no.
"Sorry, ma'am." The officer kept a firm hold on her as she swayed for a second. "You need to be checked out, ma'am." There was a concerned look on his face. "You're going to be bruised. Some of that glass got you."
She shook her head again. "Contact Director Zachary Jennings, FBI, immediately. He's my godfather."
The officer snapped into place as Marty gave him her godfather's name. Instant results produced instant action.
Within twenty minutes there were two detectives on the scene as well as a crime scene van and the personnel required to collect what little evidence could be gathered from the scene.
Pictures of the skid marks, witness statements, the bullets that had ripped into her leather seats.
It also didn't take long for her godfather to call her father. Within thirty minutes of the detectives' arrival Marty turned at the sound of screaming tires and watched her father's Porsche come to a shuddering stop.
Just what she needed, Senator Mathews going ballistic. His temper didn't explode often, but she had no doubt in her mind that it would be used today.
She wished she had allowed herself to pass out.
"Senator Mathews." The detectives were quick, she had to give them credit for that as they chose their unwilling spokesperson. "Your daughter's fine. She's refused an ambulance, but allowed EMTs to check her out."
"Get the hell out of my way." Her father pushed past the frazzled detective, and a second later she found herself enclosed in her father's embrace as he began trying to lead her back to the car.
That was her dad. He was already trying to rush her back into that parent/child world where he could coddle her and comfort himself.
"Whoa. Whoa." Pulling herself back wasn't easy. "Doesn't work this way."
He was icily furious. Marty pulled back enough to see the cold, precise rage burning in his gaze now. He had no idea what had happened and, for the moment, he didn't care. All he cared about was getting her somewhere safe.
"Don't tell me what works," her father growled. "I'm getting you the hell out of here," he told her. "Where's Khalid and Shayne? Damn those two to hell."
"Doesn't matter where they are," she told him firmly. She had to struggle to assert the independence he was suddenly trying to strip from her. What happened to her supportive father? "I have a job to do."
She hated it. It was breaking her heart not to stand there and comfort her father, to assure him that she was fine. To be a daughter. But to be a daughter right now would mean letting go of the independence she treasured. He was her father, and she understood his need to protect her. But right now, she didn't need his protection. She needed to do her job.
Her stride was hesitant, aching, as she moved away from him, only to come to a stop once again as she all but plowed into Khalid's chest.
She couldn't fight him. Staring into his intense black eyes, his savagely hewn features, she knew she couldn't fight him. She stared up at him instead, realizing he must have broken several speed limits to have gotten there so quickly.
As the warmth of him surrounded her, she suddenly had to do what she hadn't had to with her father. She had to force herself to be strong rather than leaning into his strength, and it was all she could do not to sink into his arms. He had a determination to protect her. Fighting against that would be much harder with Khalid for some reason.
Instead, she stood still as he pulled a handkerchief from inside his pocket and gently dabbed at the cuts on her face.
Staring into his eyes, she felt more connected to him now than she had in his bed last night when she had lost her virginity in his arms.
"You're bleeding, precious," he stated calmly, though his black eyes were filled with fury and concern. Concern for her.
"Not badly," she assured him.
He nodded before glancing at Shayne, who had just jumped from his car and was now headed toward them. "Do as you must. I'll distract your fathers and give you a chance to do your job. I'll have my personal physician ready when you're finished, and then we'll talk. Agreed?"
She swallowed. "Agreed."
She was caught. There was no getting out of it, and the sense of relief she felt was almost as frightening as the knowledge that she truly didn't want to run from him any longer.
"Talking won't be easy," she said softly.
"Most things that are worth fighting for are rarely easy, love," he told her, before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "But we'll muddle through, I'm certain."
The calm, easy demeanor was at direct odds with the flames of rage burning in his eyes.
"Go." He released her slowly. "Our time will come soon."
Hell. She was definitely in trouble now.
Letting her go was perhaps the hardest thing Khalid had ever done in his life. He pocketed the white silk handkerchief that was now stained with her blood and watched with hooded eyes as she and Shayne moved off.
"Bad idea," Joe snapped behind him. "She's hurt."
Khalid turned to him slowly.
"She would know if she was hurt badly," he told the other man, and prayed he was right. "She is on her feet and making logical decisions. As long as she is doing this, we have no right to interfere."
There was a long silence behind him then. He could feel the fury pouring off the other man as they watched Marty and Shayne move into the fray of witnesses and police officers that had gathered. Shayne was going to have a hell of a time dealing with Jennings once he arrived as well. Zach Jennings might make use of Shayne when he needed to, but on home turf, where his daughter was concerned, it would be a different story. The CIA wasn't exactly bosom buddies of Zach's. He was simply fonder of Shayne than he was of other agencies from that particular branch of covert operations.
"What the hell happened? I thought she left with you last night? Didn't you stay with her?"
The fury pounded at his back as Joe stepped closer. "I warned you she wasn't going to be as easy to control as you thought she was. That she would need more attention if you stepped into an affair with her."
There was nothing inattentive about what Khalid felt for Marty. But there was also fear. More fear than he had ever known in his life. Fear for her life, for her safety.
Still, Khalid nodded slowly. "So you did. It is a situation that will not be repeated. But in all fairness, Senator, I have never stated a desire to control her, nor do I feel the least bit careless toward her. My only desire was to ensure she was never harmed."
"If I find out your past is behind this attack on her, Khalid, then you won't enjoy dealing with me," Joe snarled, now at his side as he voiced Khalid's own fears.
Khalid turned to the senator, watching him coldly before turning his gaze back to the woman.
"If I learn this happened because of my past, then I will deal with it however I must," he said. "She's a woman. My woman. And I promise you, I will protect what is mine this time." He looked at Joe again. "No matter who she must be protected from."
He would protect her, whether from his past or from a father who wanted nothing more than to throw a sheltering blanket over her. Her fathers had tried. She had been placed within h
is sphere, and there danger always existed. Though he had not expected danger to come so soon.
Moving away from the senator, the concerned father who wanted nothing more than his daughter's protection, Khalid walked over to his sleek black Lexus.
Abdul was waiting, his craggy features creased into a frown as he watched Marty, his hand placed casually in the pocket of the jacket he wore--and on the he carried there.
"Contact Azir," he ordered. "See if you can find out if Ayid and Aman are involved in this. My contacts had no information this morning, nor do they know of my bastard half brothers' whereabouts."
Abdul shook his head. "This is not something he would discuss with me. Your brothers do not discuss their schemes with him. They work around him, below him, but never where he can stop their plans."
"Then contact the bastards," he snapped. "Tell them I will come after them, Abdul. I will hunt them, and they will die if she gets so much as another scratch."
Abdul stared back at him, his expression tormented and filled with fear. "This will only give them greater satisfaction and spur on their efforts," Abdul warned him. Go to them and you go in weakness. Stand silent and still, and you meet them in strength."
Khalid's lips tightened furiously. "I'd rather go hunting."
Abdul shook his head again before nodding toward Marty. "Seduce your woman. Love her. Use this time to tie her to you, so that once your deceptions are revealed she will not run from you. She is a delicate female, Khalid, and one deserving of your time and your care." There was a hint of censure in his voice then. "She is also strong. She is a woman of truth and honor, my friend. The day will come that this may be all that holds her to you. Then, when your brothers move, you will meet them in strength, not in weakness. This is my advice to you."
And it was advice he should heed. Khalid watched as Marty and Shayne worked together. He acknowledged that the other agent was carefully covering her back, on guard, and watching everyone closely.
Shayne was a man of strength; Khalid had chosen him as his third for this reason. He would be there when Marty was in danger. And Khalid would be by her side as the man who held her heart.
Sharing her was something he couldn't pull back on. The danger that would always surround her would always weigh too heavily on his soul. Should she be harmed or, God forbid, should she be killed, then could he survive the loss?
He couldn't. He knew this. Sharing her life with another man, one he chose, one who he may not control but was in agreement with, was the only alternative. And thankfully it was an alternative he would be pleased to live with.
"Contact Abram," he told Abdul. "Let him know the situation as it stands. He should add to his own protection as well."
Abdul nodded. "They will attempt to destroy Abram, but only after they have destroyed you. Azir protects Abram for now, for Abram is the chosen heir."
That was what they suspected, it wasn't what they were certain of.
"Doesn't matter." Khalid shook his head. "They'll do what they can as opportunity presents itself. Abram needs to know what could be happening to protect himself against them. Make sure that he has the information he needs, and we'll work on our end to ensure our own protection."
Khalid wasn't a murderer. He had tried to distance himself from the politics and bloody infighting of his father's world for most of his life. Khalid had disowned the entire family after the horrors he witnessed ten years ago. And still, it wasn't enough for the half brothers determined to take over the minor throne their father held.
Watching Marty, he was reminded of that life of so long ago, and what he had lost there. He was reminded how easily someone could be taken from him and of the rage that could consume him. He wouldn't allow that again. He wouldn't allow the evil that infected his father's and his half brothers' lives to further disease his own.
It was a vow he had made to himself ten years ago, and it was a vow he wouldn't break now.
Chapter 8
Something was changing inside her.
Marty sat on the side of her bed after a rigorous and grueling checkup by Khalid's doctor, as Khalid, Shayne, and her fathers waited just outside the room.
In Shayne's eyes she had seen not just his concern, but his affection. She didn't know what had happened, she had no idea why she had been targeted.
Now, if she just knew the rest of the story, the bits and pieces that both and Khalid and Shayne were hiding from her in regards to Khalid's past with his half brothers. Until she had those answers, she had other things to deal with. Not just her own protection, but also Khalid's. She needed to get with a few of her contacts and see what she could find out about Ayid and Aman Mustafa. She hadn't investigated them any further than what was in the file the bureau had given her. That had been a mistake on her part. Perhaps she would have known more about the vendetta they had against Khalid.
She kept her questions, as well as her suspicions, to herself as she assured her fathers that she was well. She listened to them rant and rave, then pretended a weariness she didn't truly feel to convince them to leave.
She loved them dearly, but their overprotective anger was about to smother her.
She had known for most of her life that where a relationship was concerned she would most likely end up involved as her mother was: with two men, rather than the socially acceptable one. Most of the men she knew were members of the club that her fathers were a part of. It was a legacy, a centuries-long tradition for the males of some families.
For Marty it helped knowing that her mother was one of the happiest women she had ever met in her life. Her fathers were just as satisfied and played roles in her and her mother's lives that had kept Marty as well as her mother secure and loved.
She had never considered who would play that role of a third in her relationship. She had certainly never expected it to be Shayne.
But she wanted them both. Admittedly, she wanted Khalid more; he was her center, the cause of a hunger she realized she wasn't going to escape. She had realized that the moment she knew Khalid had chosen Shayne as a third. And now, only hours after escaping death, she found herself needing it, aching for it.
She could have died. She could have lost so many precious moments in his arms.
As she rose to her feet she drew the pale gray silk of her robe tighter around her body and paced to the wide window that had been heavily shuttered. A dark privacy screen had been drawn over the window, blocking sight from the outside. It also blocked infrared and heat imaging. An amazing little invention created by one of the small companies that Khalid had acquired over the years.
The man didn't work a day in his life that she could see, but he had fingers in so many pies it was really amazing.
"You're restless."
His voice had her swinging around to the open doorway. She hadn't heard him open the door, hadn't heard him and Shayne enter, but there they were.
"Restless?" She almost snorted at the description. "That's an understatement."
Her gaze flickered between the two men and the hunger on their faces.
Khalid nodded gently, his expression, especially the dark depths of his eyes, filled also with sympathy and concern. But was there love? Was it even possible that they could fill with love?
She was focusing on that emotion when she had promised herself that she wouldn't take that path. She had promised herself that she wouldn't ask for anything more than to be his lover. If it was meant to be, then the love would come. If it wasn't, she would deal with that, too.
Her heart wasn't following that directive, though. It was aching, demanding that she do more, and, at this point, she had no idea what that more could be.
"Have you managed to find out why I was targeted?" She spoke to Shayne, knowing he would have been on the phone with his contacts by now.
"Nothing conclusive." He shook his head. "You know how it works, Marty. It takes more than a few hours."
&nb
sp; "Knowing that doesn't help," she muttered irritably.
"I can understand your anger." Khalid moved closer, the sensuality, the sexuality that was so much a part of him seeming to surround her. "Though I feel I must point out, had you not run from me this morning, then this would not have happened, Marty. You would be in my bed now, filled with pleasure rather than facing the knowledge that you're in danger."
"Thank you for pointing that out to me," she said with false sweetness. "How ever have I made it through my life without you there to spread your little gems of wisdom?"
"Never fear, little flower. I'm here now." His smile was tight, his gaze narrowed on her. "I'll make certain you don't forget it."
Shayne's chuckle drew a glower from her. She didn't need his particular brand of amusement at the moment. Glaring back at Khalid, she wondered exactly what it would take to shake loose that smooth persona he insisted on wearing.
"The last I heard, you don't do straight relationships, Khalid," she stated. "How was I to know you prefer me to stay rather than sending me on my way, as you do your other women?"
Mockery filled his expression now. "I have never sent a lover on her way, precious, as I'm certain you know. As a third, I've usually been sent on my way."
"Poor guy, he's been so unloved." Shayne smirked as he leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest, watching them curiously.
He was definitely going to begin irritating her soon.
"That's your own fault," she informed Khalid as she ignored Shayne, her voice brittle now. "And rather beside the point."
Turning from him she pushed her fingers through her hair and fought to hold back the emotions trying to tear through her.
"I needed to think," she finally told him before turning back, his silent patience raking across her nerves. "And I need to work. I want to find out who the hell thought they could take shots at me and get the hell away with it."