“And you’ll need a third, one you can trust until the situation with your brothers is resolved.” Shayne’s expression turned serious now. “We’re not going to have much time, Khalid. Ayid and Aman won’t be held back by your father for long. Old man Mustafa may think he can control his sons and keep you from killing each other, but you know they’ll make their move soon.”
“Yes, I’m aware of this.” He was, to the very darkest corners of his soul, aware of what he would have to do.
“You’ll also have to come clean with Marty,” Shayne told him. “You can’t let this happen without warning her about what’s coming. Her, as well as her fathers.”
“You do not need to warn me about how I must handle this situation,” Khalid said, his tone rough. “I am no imbecile, Shayne, nor am I uncaring enough to start something without first warning her of the consequences.”
There was no way to hide his past from her any longer.
Damn, he couldn’t get her out of his head, his heart, or his fears.
Shayne was watching him with that penetrating stare once again. “Marty and I are friends, Khalid,” Shayne said, his voice serious. “I don’t want to see her hurt. Are you certain you can’t stay away from her?”
“Can you guarantee that once Ayid and Aman decide to strike that they won’t also go after Marty simply because they suspect her interest is returned by me?”
Shayne’s lips tightened. “I can’t guarantee that.”
“Once she learns why I have resisted her, she will run headlong into danger whether I allow it or not. Not informing her of the danger is just as dangerous. Tell me Shayne, what other choice is left?”
There was no other choice, and they both knew it.
“Then I have no other choice but to help you protect her.” Shayne shook his head, his shaggy hair falling over his brow before he pushed it aside. “Damn. We should just kill those bastards and be done with it.”
“If such a thing had been possible, then I would have done so already,” Khalid informed him. “However, bring me a plan with a chance of success, and we’ll talk.”
Shayne ran his hand over his face in a gesture in frustration as he bared his teeth. “Sons of bitches,” he finally snarled.
“No doubt,” Khalid agreed. “It doesn’t change the fact that we must protect Marty now.”
“She’ll shoot us if she finds out we’re trying to protect her,” Shayne told him.
Khalid shook his head slowly. “She will have enough of the truth to understand. And I will have the comfort of knowing that should anything happen to me, you will see to her safety.”
Silence descended between them as Shayne continued to watch him carefully. Should his brothers succeed in killing him, then Khalid didn’t want his woman left to suffer that alone. He wanted another to comfort her, to ease her grief.
“I’ll do that,” Shayne promised. “If needed. But let’s see what we can do to keep you alive.”
Shayne wondered if Khalid was aware of the demons that roiled in his eyes, the pain that gleamed within them.
He’d held out against Marty longer than any of the members of the Club had imagined he could. It had cost him, though. With the exception of Abram, Shayne knew more than anyone what it had cost him. He’d seen the darkness that filled Khalid. He’d seen the cost of the missions Khalid had completed as the Desert Lion in Saudi.
Khalid knew the region that Azir Mustafa controlled like the back of his hand. It wasn’t unheard of for him to lead strike teams into the region to take down the terrorists moving across the border.
As the CIA agent assigned to the area, Shayne had worked with Khalid as well as Abram, more than once. And in each man he’d seen the scars that the past had left. Scars that marred the soul rather than the body.
The Mustafa brothers, Ayid and Aman, were demons of the worse sort. Vicious, brutal, and filled with hatred.
Shayne had also seen how much it had hurt Khalid to turn away from the woman he ached for. There were times Shayne wondered if Khalid even knew that he was in love with Marty.
“When will you tell her?” Shayne finally asked.
Khalid sighed. “Tonight, perhaps.”
How interesting. Shayne barely managed to restrain his smile.
“That might be hard to do.”
Khalid’s eyes narrowed on him, and Shayne found his suspicion almost amusing.
“You say this for what reason?” Khalid asked, his tone turning cold.
“She’s attending a ball tonight with Senator Mathews.” Shayne grinned. “I heard she actually approached another member of the club with an invitation, but it was very nicely refused.”
Khalid’s jaw tightened. Shayne had toyed with the idea of withholding this information, certain it would push Khalid into claiming Marty, and had not been certain that it was a good idea. If Khalid had already made that choice though, then it wouldn’t hurt to let him know that his woman was growing a bit sick of the game he was playing.
Khalid drew in a hard, deep breath, as though drawing patience into himself. It had always amazed Shayne how he did that, how he forced a certain control on his emotions when it came to Marty Mathews.
She was a weakness. And honestly it was something Shayne had thought Ayid and Aman would have already figured out by now.
“The Sinclair ball,” Khalid finally stated emotionlessly. “She’s attending it tonight?”
Shayne nodded. “It would seem so.”
“Then I will speak to her tonight.”
Shayne smiled. “I look forward to being a part of her pleasure, Khalid. Thank you for the offer.”
A half smile tugged at Khalid’s lips. “You merely want a chance to play house for a while, remember?” he reminded Shayne.
“Well, there is that,” Shayne agreed. “There’s also watching her tie you in ten different kinds of knots. That’s will always be amusing.”
“I’ll remember that when you’re tied up in those knots yourself, my friend,” Khalid informed him with a knowing grin. “Trust me, your turn is coming.”
Shayne inclined his head in acknowledgment, though Khalid doubted he believed him. Shayne called himself a lone wolf for a reason. He had learned years ago, just as Khalid had, the cost of love. And like Khalid, the day would come when he would fight for it again.
“I’ll let you know then when you’re needed,” Khalid finally said as the other man picked up his paper again and shook it out, his light brown eyes still lit with amusement.
It was an amusement most single members had when they watched another fall into the silken arms of the only woman their hearts seemed to beat for.
“Your father has called again,” Abdul reported as he drove the limo along the curved driveway that led from the club.
“What did the old bastard want this time?” A feeling of weariness descended over him like a heavy, wet blanket. Hell, there were times he wanted nothing more than to simply rest. To close his eyes without the worry of what tomorrow would bring.
“He wants to speak to you as always.” Abdul’s tone was without inflection.
The old bastard wanted to be certain Abram had come to D.C. as he’d asked him to.
“Did you tell him to go to hell?” Khalid asked with vicious politeness.
“I informed him once again that you have been quite busy.” Abdul cleared his throat uncomfortably. “He seemed upset. More so than usual.”
The son of a bitch called in a show of fatherly concern whenever Ayid and Aman were about to do something foul to him. If he needed confirmation that his brothers were ready to move, then this was it.
God, he wanted it over with. There were nights he actually managed to convince himself that he could fund the death of the old bastard and the sons that were no more than animals. And he would have, many times over, if his
