Final Vow (12 page)

Nabi put his gun away and smirked
as he took the cupcakes from Miss Daisy and set them on the counter. “It’s not the size of the gun that matters. It’s how you use it.”

“That’s just something the salesperson tells you to make you feel b
etter, dear,” Miss Lily said sympathetically as the grin fell from Nabi’s face.

“I’ve always liked a little size,” Miss Violet
stated matter-of-factly while putting the casserole in the refrigerator.

“Me
, too. I like the weight of it in my hand,” Miss Daisy told Nabi, handing him a cupcake with a pink napkin.

Bridget didn’t know what to do. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to gasp, but in the end
, she caught Nabi’s blanched face and a giggle escaped. Then another and another until she was bent over slamming her hand against the counter as she gasped for breath.

“What is it, dear?” Miss Lily asked. Bridget looked up and saw Nabi’s look of horror and three innocent faces looking back at her and
broke out into a new round of laughter. She could only shake her head in response to Miss Lily’s question as she tried to stop laughing.

“What’s all the food for?” Bridget finally managed to ask after taking some deep breaths.

“Katelyn and Marshall had a baby girl. This is what was left over from the party we had in the waiting room. You know those nice nurses are so excited every time someone from Keeneston has a baby.”

“
Does she have a name?” She knew Ahmed and Katelyn were good friends so she wanted to make sure she got all the details to tell him after he finished with whatever it was he was doing for Mo.

“Bless her heart, she’s precious. They named her Sydney. She
is a healthy seven and a half pounds with a head of blonde hair like her mama and what looks to be hazel eyes just like her daddy,” Miss Violet said as she clasped her hands to her chest.

“I thought Ahmed would be ther
e,” Miss Daisy stated casually.

“Mo had something he needed done,” Nabi filled in quickly. So quickly in fact that i
t captured Bridget’s attention.

“Well, thank you
, ladies. This food is fantastic and I’m so happy for Katelyn and Marshall. But,” Bridget covered her mouth and gave a fake yawn, “I’m beat. I’ll make sure to stop by the café to find out how little Sydney is doing tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes. We’re taking them breakfast in the morning. No
t good for a new mom to eat hospital food. We’ll bring her something nourishing.” Miss Violet fussed as they headed for the door, escorted by Nabi.

Bridg
et thanked them again for the food, gave them each a hug, and closed the door before Nabi could escape. “Okay, spill it.”

“Spill what?” Nabi asked nervously.

“What’s Ahmed doing?”

“Just something for Mo. You know, diplomatic stuff,” Nabi told her as he walked into the kitchen
to grab another cupcake. “Here, try this. Amazing.”

Bridget stepped forward and took the cupcake he was offering. “I know it’s more than that. Something’s going on that you all don’t want me to know about.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m bound by confidentiality with his Royal Highness. I cannot talk about diplomatic relations.”

Bridget rolled her eyes. She’d get it out of him.

“Here. Have a napkin.”

Bridget reached for the napkin, but it fell from Nabi’s hand right before she could grab it. She bent over
to pick it up and, by the time she straightened back up, the kitchen was empty and she heard the sound of a door slamming. She ran to the door and flung it open. “Coward,” she yelled into the night as Nabi made a dash for his car.

Her butt started vibrating so Bridget closed the door and dug into her back pocket for her cell phone as she eyed the plate of cupcakes. “Springer.”

“Ah, Miss Springer. It is so nice to talk to you again,” the cold Russian voice said through the phone.

“Sergei. How are things in
hell? Hot?” Bridget asked as she reached for another cupcake.

“You’ll find out soon enough when I kill you.”

“Sergei, Sergei, dude, you need new lines. I’m trying to enjoy this great cupcake and you’re all about death. Have you tried yoga? Chocolate? Getting laid? Anything to improve your disposition.”

“
I plan on screwing someone very soon. You, while Ahmed is helpless to watch.” Sergei’s voice was even colder, but she had heard the slight crack. Bridget smiled; she was pissing him off.

“There we go with the threats again. Did you not get enough hugs when you were a child? Is that it?”

She heard Sergei take a deep breath. “I’m looking forward to killing you slowly. I’ve very good with a knife,” Sergei laughed and Bridget felt the hair on her arms rise. “I’ll see you soon, real soon,” he laughed again with no trace of humor.

“Okay.
I’ll save a cupcake for you,” Bridget said nonchalantly. The phone line went dead and she chuckled. She shoots, she scores. Bridget 2, Sergei 0.

Sergei threw his phone onto his bed. That insufferable woman! He would kill her slowly now and make Ahmed watch. Ahmed had taken everything he loved and now Sergei was even more determined to do the same to him. If Ahmed thought the torture he had escaped was bad, he wouldn’t even be able to imagine what Sergei had in store for him now.

He paced his room and thought about that bitch.
If she and Ahmed were a couple, then the best way to tackle them would be to separate them. If he could draw Ahmed away from her, then he could strike on two fronts. He could get Ahmed away from Keeneston and have someone get Bridget and bring her to him. Then when the time came to end Ahmed, he could bring out the final bit of torture . . . Bridget. He could see it now. Ahmed weak and dying as blood drained from his body. He would bring Bridget out and kill her right in front of him, just as he had done to Ahmed’s wife. It would be full circle. Sergei smiled. Full circle—that’s it. He knew how to draw Ahmed out.

Sergei picked up
the phone, dialed the number, and waited. “Sarif. It’s time to go home.” After all, it should end where it began.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ahmed tossed his keys on the counter and hurried to his room. His clothes were covered in blood and Bridget was due at any moment for training. The New York trip had been everything he expected. He’d found his way into the underworld and made his point—Bridget was not to be touched.

He stripped off the black shirt and threw it in the trash. No amount of dry cleaning in the world could save that shirt. He shucked his pants and hurried into the shower. When the
red water ran clear again, he got out and applied a salve to his raw knuckles. He slipped on a pair of athletic shorts and headed into the kitchen right as Bridget knocked on the door.

Ahmed took a deep breath and
opened the door. His breath caught at the sight of her on his porch. The sun was shining down and the red highlights in her hair seemed to be glowing.

“Hi. How was work?”
she asked as she walked into his house.

“Good,” he smiled
seeing her gaze linger on his bare chest. He wasn’t completely unaffected either. She was in tight black pants that hugged every curve. And from their past workouts, he knew she wore nothing but a tiny tank top under her fleece jacket. It had been hard to contain himself during the previous lessons when they weren’t together. But now that he’d had her, all he wanted was to have her again. Especially when he knew all his worries and fears disappeared when he was inside her. “You got home safely?”

“Yes, but you may want to buy Nabi a bigger gun. I fear he might be having inadequacy issues due to the small size of his, um,” Bridget cleared her throat, “gun.”

“I’ll talk to him and see if that’s what he wants.” Ahmed led the way down the stairs and wondered what that was all about. He stopped wondering when Bridget unzipped her jacket to reveal she’d only worn a sports bra.

“Ready?”

Yes, he was. In more ways than one. “Yes. Let’s practice what to do if an attacker gets you on the ground.”

“Like this?” Bridget grabbed Ahmed’s shoulder and stepped forward
, hooked her leg behind his, swept out his leg, and pushed him to the floor. Ahmed grinned, looking where she had his arm in a hold and her knee on his chest.

“I
was thinking more like this.” Ahmed grabbed her leg and yanked it out from under her. He straddled her hips and placed his hands loosely around her throat. Her legs were bent at the knees and Ahmed wished it was her on top like this. “Escape,” he said in a rough voice as he looked down to where she was taking a deep breath.

In a quick move
, she reached across her chest and grabbed his arm while capturing his foot between her calf and thigh. She bucked her hips and pushed with her arms so that Ahmed fell to the side. Bridget used that momentum to roll him on his back then smiled triumphantly from where she sat on top of him. “Like that?” she asked, wiggling her bottom.

Ahmed groaned and knew he
had already lost. She was cradling his erection between her thighs and enjoying the power she had over him. And he was more than content to let her have all the power she wanted as long as she kept touching him.

“Just like that,” Ahmed said as he gave her a wicked grin and ran his
hand up her rib cage.

“Where did you go last night?”

Ahmed’s hands paused at the underside of her breasts. “I had to do something for Mo.”

She slowly pressed down with her hips and rubbed against him. “You’re not telling me something.
What is it?”

“That I missed you. I’ve been thinking about this all night.”
Ahmed grabbed the underside of her bra and pulled it up until it trapped her arms. His mouth was on her breast and his hands wrapped around her back before she could ask another question.

Bridget freed herself from the constraining sports bra and roc
ked against him as he teased her nipple to a tight point. “Fine. Don’t tell me. We’ll both have our secrets then.”

Ahmed heard the words but didn’t care what they meant right now. He didn’t want her to know he had killed someone last night to protect her. He didn’t want her to know he did it in front of other men who had dared
to question his ability to stop them from hurting her and turning her over to Sergei. Going after Marko was one thing, but these men didn’t want to stop with the dog.

“I love you,” he heard her gasp when his fingers
pressed between her legs. Her head was thrown back and Ahmed knew he’d do anything to keep her safe. Going after Sergei was the only way to do that—even if it meant dying himself.

Bridget sat on a stool in Ahmed’s kitchen and watched him pour two glasses of wine. Their lovemaking had been different, more desperate. She knew he was keeping something from her the second she saw his scraped knuckles. And the desperation and fierceness in his moves told her something bad had happened. He didn’t want to talk about it and she was too afraid of losing him if she pushed too hard, so she let it go.

Her thoughts kept going back to her conversations with Sergei. Why was he tormenting her? Why did he want her to
know she was going to be killed? Was it to upset Ahmed into doing something foolish? “Ahmed, why do you think Sergei seems to be personally out to get you?”

Ahmed set down the wooden spoon and took a sip of wine. “I’ve thought about that
, too. It started off as a political rebellion. Russia and Rahmi had tense relations. Having someone close to the Russian prime minister marry someone close to King Ali Rahman was a show of respect and a desire to work together.

“It all revolves around oil and
related technology. The Russians are way ahead of us in that respect. They’ve been doing it a lot longer. After the marriage, their scientists showed us how to process the oil better, how to build sturdy pipelines, and so on. In return, the Russians got a political ally in the UN. We are way too small a country to be their competitors, but our votes were very important to them coming out of the Cold War.”

“Why
would Sergei care about that?”

“I don’t think he did. Another thing Russia exports are mercenaries. The king’s cousin, Sarif, had been gathering support for an overthrow since he was sixteen years old. When my father brought this information to King Ali Rahm
an, Sarif was married off to a queen of a small country with no real power in the international community. The queen had been desperate for an ally and King Ali Rahman agreed to military protection in return for Sarif being named king consort. King Ali Rahman had hoped Sarif’s new duties would keep him too busy to worry about Rahmi. But it didn’t work. Sarif had tasted power and wanted more. He hired Sergei, and I think he came after me because of my father.”

“Your
father?”

“Even though I wasn’t anything like my father, I was part of the inner circle. He came after me and tried to kill anyone close to the royal family. Th
en when I went after him again, I made it personal. It had to grate on him that I had survived the first assassination attempt and then escaped when he caught me. Plus it looked really bad to his prospective employers.”

“And just like you can’t let it go, neither can he. You’re the one
who got away.”

“Exactly. I’m the only black mark o
n his record, as he is on mine. And now he’s after you. It has to end soon. My brother in Rahmi is getting nervous that something is in the works. After Italy and the UN, he’s preparing for a fight.”

“What’s your brother
like? You don’t talk about him much. And you never talk about your father.”

“My father and I never saw eye to eye. My brother and I get along better now that
we’re both accomplished. He handles things in Rahmi. I handle things here. You told me your parents are in D.C.; what are they like?”

“My mom is very quiet and sweet
-natured. She’s the one who will trap a spider and take him outside. I’m a total daddy’s girl, though, even with my dad being super traditional and very fond of rules. I hated them growing up, but I understand them now that I’m older.”

“What do they think of your job?”

“They’re okay with it. Proud, but they worry, too. Sometimes it’s hard to get my dad to understand what I’m doing. However, he always ends up supporting me.”

“They sound perfect, and I’m proud of you
, too. You’re too brave by half,” Ahmed joked, walking around the table and wrapping her up in a hug.

Bridget enjoyed the
feel of him as she rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. “What are you planning and how can I help you?”

“Thank you, my
dear. Unfortunately, I don’t think you can give me the help I need.”

“What kind of help is that?”

“Just satellite images of Sergei’s suspected compound in Egypt,” Ahmed laughed. “Come on; I think we should shower before we go over to Dani and Mo’s for dinner.”

Bridget just smiled and let him lead her back into his bedroom. She had a feeling Ahmed was going to
get lucky tonight in more ways than one.

* * *

Ahmed was taking forever to leave. Bridget pretended she needed extra time to get ready and tried to get Ahmed to take Zoti for a walk before heading over to Dani and Mo’s. Finally when she said she just needed to put her hair up, he left with Zoti. She threw her hair in a ponytail in five seconds and dug out her phone to call her father.

“Hello
, pumpkin.”

Bridget cringed at the stern tone in his voice. Her father was not happy.
“Hi, Daddy,” she tried for cheery in hopes of thawing her father’s bad mood.

“I’m starting to get worried every time you call. Terrorists falling at yo
ur feet, you in an Italian jail—what’s next? Calling to tell me you’ve been shot?”

“I know.
I’m sorry, Daddy. Well, not really, but it sounds as if I should be.” She heard her dad chuckle and knew he was just worried about her.

“What do you need this time?”
her dad asked, all-knowing.

“Satellite images of Sergei’s suspected camp in Egypt,” Bridget
said as if she were asking for an apple pie recipe.

“Those are cl
assified. I can’t give you that. I’ve given you plenty, but this is too much. This man is putting you in harm's way. He’s putting you in danger and you want me to leak you classified information? This has gone too far, pumpkin.”

“Oh, hush, dear. Give her the information or she’ll just
go there,” her mother’s steady, soft voice said from the background.

“No. Not this time. Can’t you see this man is using you for your connections
?”

“Daddy, he
doesn’t even know you’re my father. He’s hardly using me. There has to be a way we can make this legal . . . like a joint operation,” Bridget suggested.

“What’s his plan?”

“I don’t know. He’s tired of waiting for Sergei so he’s going after him.”

“I’ll need to talk to the president. We’ve been trying to get eyes
in the camp for months, but they’re good. We haven’t been able to get a clear picture of any of the leadership. Maybe if Ahmed, and
only
Ahmed, goes in and shares everything he finds with us, then we
may
be able to back him up with drones—unofficially, of course.”

“And if he gets caught?” Bridget a
sked while she held her breath.

“Then the U
.S. will have no knowledge of this and there will be no backup. He’ll be on his own. Do you still want me to continue with this?”

“Yes. He’ll find a way to get those images and I
'd rather he have the potential for backup than to go in there completely alone.”

“I’ll email you if I get
anything. But, pumpkin, I don’t want you near this. This isn’t New York or even Italy. This is an unstable country with no get-out-of-jail card.”

“Thank you,
Daddy. Someday when you meet him, you’ll understand why I’m doing this.”

“Someday when I meet him
, I’m putting his head through the wall for putting you in this situation in the first place,” her father mumbled.

Bridget heard the front door open and knew she had to hurry. “Gotta go. Give Marko and
Mom a kiss for me. I love you.” Bridget hung up, picked up her bag of clothes, and walked into the living room.

“You can leave your clothes here, unless you want me to take you home tonight. I was hoping you would stay here.”

“I can do that. I wanted to check on the training facilities before work and you’re closer than I am.”

Ahmed put a hand to his heart and looked wounded. “You’re only with me because I’m closer to your property. That hurts.”

“There are many reasons I’m with you and I think you know that’s not one of them. Now, who’s going to be at this dinner?”

“Kenna and Will, Henry and Neely Grace, and Tammy and Pierce.”

“Their law office? Then why are we going?”

“They invited us. I know I don’t date much, but isn’t that what couples do?” Ahmed teased
as he helped her into her coat.