Melanie gave a slow, considered nod. “Then keep the hotel room. Quest will pay.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Robbie and I have to travel with Something to Talk About. You’ll be helping the family out by staying here.”
“I’m also doing it for the story.” Julia wanted to be honest.
“I know you are.” Melanie squeezed Julia’s shoulders. “You deserve the story. Now, I have to head for the barns. The last thing we want to do is mess with Something to Talk About’s schedule.”
“He was a good boy today,” said Julia.
“He was a very good boy. My brother is over the moon.”
The following evening, it was easy for Harrison to see that Brittany was the consummate hostess.
It was four o’clock, and a few of the out-of-town guests were arriving early to the party. She cheerfully and easily greeted princes, generals and captains of industry. She laughed and chatted in several languages, introducing one guest to the other while keeping half an eye on the servers to make sure none of the guests were neglected.
Alex appeared at Harrison’s elbow. “The pipeline meeting is set for five o’clock.”
“Good.” Harrison kept his eyes on Brittany.
Alex was silent for a moment.
“So she’s the one?” he asked.
“She’s the one,” Harrison confirmed, more convinced than ever.
“Hmm.” There was something in Alex’s tone.
“What?”
“I’m not so sure.”
“What’s not to be sure? She’s perfect.”
“You think?”
Now what the hell did that mean?
Alex reacted to Harrison’s astonishment. “There seems to be an edge to her.”
“An edge? To Brittany?”
“Sarcasm, hostility.”
Harrison snorted in disbelief. “What have you been drinking? Look at her.”
“She does present well,” said Alex.
“I do believe you’re jealous.”
“Not.”
“Come to think of it, get your leering eyes off my future fiancee.”
“Believe me, Harrison. I haven’t the slightest attraction to your future fiancee.”
“Now I know you’re lying. Check out her eyes, her hair. Or look at those legs-long, toned, straight.”
“Are you talking about a wife or a broodmare?”
With a start, Harrison realized he
It had to be his innate respect for her. That was the only explanation.
Then his mind involuntarily flashed to Julia. Seeing her in that bathing suit that left so little to the imagination, he could easily picture her legs wrapped around his waist. And when he conjured up that particular image, he didn’t feel respectful at all. He felt…
“Let’s get a drink,” he said to Alex.
Sitting in the back of a taxi as it pulled up to the Jumeirah Beach Hotel, Julia caught sight of Pamjeet the doorman trotting up to meet them.
There was something lurking in his dark eyes, and a funny feeling tripped along her spine.
They’d barely stopped, when he opened the back door, blocking her way out, leaning in to talk to her.
“You must not come in to the hotel,” he said in an earnest low tone, close to her ear.
“What-”
“Go now. The police were here.”
Everything inside Julia stilled as her memory flashed to the dismal jail conditions.
“What do I-”
“Do you have your passport?” He kept his voice low so the driver wouldn’t overhear.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“The airport,” he called to the driver, drawing back.
“Now?” Julia’s frightened eyes met Pamjeet’s.
He gave her a nod and slammed the door, turning back to his duties as if nothing untoward had happened.
The taxi pulled into traffic and sped toward the airport in the waning daylight.
Julia tried to wrap her head around what she’d just heard. The police were looking for her? Harrison’s bribe must not have worked as well as he’d thought.
She strained to see out the back window, checking for signs of pursuit. There was nothing but regular downtown traffic-sedans, delivery trucks and the occasional limousine.
Her luggage was still in the hotel room. She couldn’t really afford to replace all those clothes, not to mention her small jewelry collection. Still, anything was better than going back to jail.
She watched the skyscrapers whiz by as the driver expertly navigated his way through intersections and traffic circles on the way to the airport. She’d switched her plane ticket to the middle of next week. Would they let her change back? Would they have any available seats?
She could get on the first plane to anywhere, she supposed. What did it matter which route she took home? And what did it matter how long it took her to pay off the credit-card bill? The only thing that mattered was that she get out of the country.
After long, tense minutes in traffic, she breathed a sigh of relief as the planes and lighted hangars of the airport came into view next to the wide, divided highway. They were almost there.
“What time is your flight, ma’am?” came the driver’s voice.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
He nodded. “There seems to be a traffic delay. I hope it will not inconvenience you.”
She shifted to the middle of the backseat, sitting straight to look out the windshield at the main terminal building. So close, yet so far away.
“Can you tell what it is?”
He nodded to the road ahead. “A roadblock.”
“An accident?”
“I don’t believe so, ma’am. It’s a checkpoint. The police.”
“Is this common?”
“Not common.”
Uh-oh. “What are they checking for?”
“I do not know.”
It couldn’t be.
But her pulse started to pound in agitation.
She was running from the police, and they had a roadblock at the airport? Coincidence?
She tried to calm herself down. There was no way they’d call out the SWAT team for attempted horse theft. The mere thought was ridiculous. She was letting herself get freaked out over nothing.
She forced herself to sit back, swiping the beads of sweat from her forehead.
They’d be through the roadblock in a few minutes. She’d buy a ticket to, well, anywhere. And she’d be on her way out of UAE.
“Do you have your passport, ma’am?”
“Why?”
“The police will require identification.”
Julia’s heartbeat thickened. She inhaled, and she could swear she smelled the stale, gray dress from the prison. She saw the wriggling centipede, felt the sharp pressure on her bladder.
“Turn around,” she said to the driver.
