Chapter One
Bezakistan – Two years later
Alea escaped from the glittering lights and laughter of the ballroom. Everything about the evening was lovely and elegant, and she couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t her dress or the amount of food she’d consumed, but the press of bodies, the expectation, the terror she could never quite shake…
The warm night air caressed her skin as she closed the balcony doors behind her. The terrace overlooked the garden at the center of the palace. Normally, the doors would be open and a bar would have been placed out here, but Dane Mitchell, one of Tal’s bodyguards, had decreed it unsafe for the time being. After an episode that had nearly ended in the murder of her cousins’ wife a few months ago, Dane had been on a security tear. Everyone had tried to explain to him that the perpetrator, Khalil, was dead and wasn’t likely to rise as a zombie to eat Piper’s brains. Alea felt a smile cross her face. She’d been the one to use that argument. But Talib, Rafiq, and Kadir, ever vigilant, had signed on to the new “keep the women safe” plan.
To Alea, it felt more like the “never let the women have any fun” plan. Or a minute alone.
“Hello, Landon.” She didn’t have to turn around to know he stood there, strong and stalwart. She’d heard the briefest squeak of the door opening…then nothing. Landon Nix never made a sound, but sometimes little things like squeaky hinges defeated his silent grace.
“You don’t have to talk. I just can’t leave you alone. Pretend I’m not here.”
Impossible. She turned and stared at the quietest of her three watchmen, all of whom had been hired months after her rescue. By then, she’d recovered, and Alea was beyond glad they had never seen her so weak. They had been apprised of her abduction and given sketchy details, but by the time Tal had hired them, thanks to Cole Lennox’s advice, at least her body had recovered. The three guards kept her safe day and night. And had quickly become the bane of her existence.
As well as the center of her every fantasy.
Landon hovered in the corner, shadows clinging to him, making him look even more dangerous than normal. He was six foot three and leaner than the two Mack Trucks he called friends, but there was no way he was any less lethal. Her brain told her that, but something about him put her at ease in a way she wasn’t with the other two. Dane was so dark and dominant. Coop was a relentless flirt—both things that scared the crap out of her. But Landon, with his golden hair and face, with his expression so often as placid as an untouched lake, was a calming presence. He never pushed her too hard to talk or demanded her smiles. When he guarded her, he simply followed and made sure she got where she needed to go. Coop and Dane either pretended to flirt with her or downright insisted that she follow their direction, but Landon just quietly did his job.
He was a little like the large, gorgeous Labrador retriever she’d had as a child. Except she had never dreamed about sharing Duke’s wet kisses, much less taking on his friends.
She had to stop thinking that way, but Landon made that difficult when he stood so near and the night fell softly all around her. She’d snuck away to escape the crowd, but she was surprised at just how much she liked being out here alone with Lan. “Did Tal make you wear that tux?”
Even in the deep gloom, she saw his telling flush. Maybe Lan’s down-to-earth nature was what made her feel so comfortable. He was obviously uneasy with the wealth around him. Ever since she’d returned to Bezakistan and the palace, she had felt the same way. She’d seen real suffering in the real world, and sometimes this opulence chafed.
“I don’t know why I have to wear this monkey suit. It was made for me, but it still feels too tight,” Lan said with a bit of a Texas drawl.
She couldn’t help herself. He was far too endearing to ignore. Months and months of trying had just proven she wasn’t capable.
Alea closed the space between them. “The suit fits you perfectly, but the tie is too tight.”
He looked up, his eyes flaring briefly as she neared. “I’m not much good with clothes like this. I have to admit, I liked the uniforms in the Army better. Uncle Sam’s dress code made it easy.”
And she’d bet he’d looked good. Of course, he looked devastatingly handsome in a tux, too.
Dangerous train of thought. Stop now. After hesitating for an instant, she forced herself to buck up and do what she’d crossed the room to accomplish.
“May I?” she asked before reaching for his tie.
Lan nodded, and she quickly undid the black scrap of silk. The Armani tuxedo had been perfectly fitted, but she knew very well that his normal wardrobe choices ran more toward sweat pants and loose fitting T-shirts. It was a crime against women everywhere that the man didn’t just walk around shirtless.