Prologue
Ryan Hunter watched the young woman he’d been hired to protect absently spin the gold ring on her finger. He doubted she even realized what she was doing. Instead, she was absorbed by the view outside the train’s window. The moonlit sand. The craggy mountains beyond. And the danger hiding in the moon-cast shadows.
“Felicia.”
She jumped, then turned to face him, her brown eyes bloodshot and puffy. An apologetic smile touched her lips as she pushed a lock of midnight-black hair off of her face, the dark curl in contrast to her pale skin, paler now that all of her makeup had sloughed off during their escape.
She seemed to look right through him, and he imagined she was looking back at the bomb-shattered buildings. The bodies scattered in the streets. They might be miles away now, but he was certain she could still see them. God knew he could.
With a sigh, she turned back to the window. “It looks so peaceful,” she said, her soft British accent contrasting with the hard reality that surrounded them. “I can barely wrap my head around the reality that there’s a coup going on. An actual coup. And that we’re right in the middle of it.” She bit her lower lip, then pulled the shade down, obscuring the view.
For a moment, she simply sat there, staring at the now-blocked window. Then she turned to face him, her expressionless eyes meeting his as she asked, very simply, “Are we going to get out of this alive?” She looked calm. As if the world of military coups and midnight escapes was old hat to her. Only the slight quiver in her voice gave away her simmering terror.
He took her hands, planning to spew all the platitudes that he knew she wanted to hear. Of course they were going to get out. Of course they would be just fine. That was why her father had hired a security firm. That’s why the firm had sent Ryan. That’s why they were moving quickly and carefully.
But he didn’t say any of that. She deserved the truth. More than that, she was smart enough to already know it. “We’re damn well going to try.”
For a moment, she just held tight to him, as if he truly had the power to ensure her safety. Then she pulled her hands free, crossed her arms over her chest, and tucked her hands into her armpits as she hugged herself tight. Her thin shoulders rose and fell, and she nodded slowly, as if absorbing his words. “I hate myself for being so stupid.”
“You aren’t stupid.”
She cocked her head, looking ridiculously young. “I followed a man I barely knew to an unstable country in the Middle East. A country I’m not even sure existed a month ago, and I’m pretty sure won’t exist next week. If it’s even still a country right now, and not just a bombed-out hole in the ground.”
Ryan bit back a grimace. She wasn’t wrong. They were deep inside disputed territory, peaceful only days ago, but now a hotbed of militant activity. And, yes, all the signs that the region was unstable had been there from the moment that Felicia had left London. One glance at a newspaper or one search on the Internet would have revealed the nature of the conflict and the danger of traveling to this part of the globe. Maybe she’d still have come and maybe she wouldn’t have, but there would have been no denying the red flags.
But she’d done none of that. She’d met a man and fallen hard. She’d wanted him, and Felicia Cartwright was used to getting what she wanted.
So when Mikal Safar had invited her back to meet his wealthy and politically powerful family, she’d gone without hesitation. But never once did she expect that dissidents would rise up. And she certainly never anticipated that they would murder Mikal and his father, thus inciting a rebellion that threatened the life of everyone with any sort of connection to Mikal’s father or the other government leaders.
In fairness, after reading the pre-mission dossier, Ryan understood how Felicia had gotten herself mixed up in the mess. Felicia had grown up like a princess herself, her royal blood of the kind that was bestowed by generations of wealth, not birth. Her mother had died in childbirth, and Randall Cartwright had doted on his little girl, showering her with love, affection, and as many toys and luxuries as the London-based millionaire could afford. Which, as far as Ryan could tell, meant all of them.
Felicia was completely spoiled, used to getting her own way, and stubborn as hell. But despite all that, Ryan liked her. The girl had spunk, that was for sure. And she was an intriguing mixture of hard edges and soft personality. Like cotton candy encased in steel.
As if to prove the point, she cocked her head, staring him down. “See? You know I’m right. You’re just afraid that if you admit that I’m an idiot, Daddy won’t pay your fee.”
He chuckled, her self-deprecating comment settling them both. “Your father knows you’re not an idiot. But he also knows you are impulsive. And sometimes that looks like the same thing.”
“Either way, we get to the same point. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have followed Mikal. And the day he disappeared, I should have headed straight for the border. Thank goodness the old lady—”
She broke off, choking back a sob. One of the servants in the Safar household had warned her that Mikal’s disappearance wasn’t because he’d been trying to escape before the coup—rudely not taking her with him—but that he’d been captured and beheaded. And then, with Felicia still reeling with shock, she’d warned the girl to do whatever she could to escape before she was also killed by the dissidents—or worse.
Ryan leaned forward, then used a finger to lift her chin, making a point to meet her chocolate brown eyes straight on. “You made an impulsive decision to follow a man you cared about, that’s true. But it’s also an age-old story. Don’t beat yourself up for underestimating what you were getting yourself into. This isn’t your world. You had no point of reference. And even if you’d paid attention and knew that the area was unstable, you trusted Mikal.”
She sniffled and nodded. “I did. I know I probably shouldn’t have—not after only knowing him such a short time—but I really and truly did.”
“And from what I know of him, he was an upstanding man. Look at me,” he demanded when she cast her eyes down. “You were sharp enough to trust that woman, and you called for help immediately. You didn’t cry or hesitate. Despite your grief, you acted.”
She rolled her eyes. “I did what I always do. I called my daddy. And he called you. So much for bravery.”
“Don’t you dare denigrate your actions. It wasn’t as easy as pushing speed dial, and we both know it.” The rebels had shut down cellular service, and she’d had to sneak into an occupied office building to find an outgoing landline. It had been that single act of cunning and bravery that made Ryan certain that she could handle whatever they would face during this escape.
Unfortunately, not breaking down into tears and self-pity wasn’t the same thing as surviving. And as Mikal’s guest, she was on the dissidents’ radar. That made this whole thing a much more dangerous ordeal.
He drew a breath. “You’re smart. You’re resourceful. And you did the right thing. Don’t go soft on me now.”
“I’m sorry, you know.”
“About what?”
She rolled her eyes. “All of this. It’s my fault that you’re stuck in the middle of the danger with me.”