Page 83 of High Treason
“He told me this afternoon he’s interested in you as potential wife material.”
How did this happen? “Why didn’t you tell him I had a boyfriend or something?” she whispered. “We nearly killed each other at the hospital.”
The grin stayed intact. “I thought you might be flattered. Think of the press. The wedding would have international coverage.”
“When I’m not with the CIA, I’m a woman. I get my nails done, enjoy bubble baths, get my hair cut. I have more shoes than I’ll ever wear. I bake and give it away. I decorate. I weigh myself every day and count calories. But I’m not looking for a husband.” Now why had she made such a fuss?
“You’ve broken my heart and now you’ll break his. Might damage US relations.”
His teasing caused her to groan. An international incident because she refused marriage to a Saudi bodyguard? “The culture is killing my operative skills.”
“He welcomes you as a challenge. Claims you’re fearless and beautiful.”
A slow rise of heat crept up her face. “Couldn’t you have said something to his inquiry?”
“I did. Told him you’d be hard to tame. And you were a Christian.”
How had she encouraged Ali? “Thanks for the warning. Does he want my father’s name for the bride price?”
“Never know. Look, Monica, he might pop the question tonight. You’re lucky because he’s not married. You’d be number one wife.”
“And the FBI is about to lose one of its prize agents.”
“I forgot you’re a crack shot.” Still he made her wait for nearly a minute. “Okay, I’ll help you out with this.Knqdr walakin ma’yimkinlish.”
“‘I am able but it is not possible for me.’” She laughed at the translation. “Like, ‘No thanks, I could iron your shirts but it ain’t gonna happen’?”
“Exactly.”
“All right. I need to meet with him and get this handled.” Actually, she felt sorry for Ali. She closed her laptop. “I’ll take this to my room before the meeting.”
“Enjoy your stroll,” he said.
“I’m sure it will be memorable.”
“Where will this happen?”
“The spot where I defused the bomb.”
“I bet he lost his heart when you cut the final wire.”
She wanted to smack away his smirk.
Once she’d secured her laptop upstairs, she made her way to thedesignated meeting spot. The sound of insects greeted her, and a dog barked in the distance. The earthy smell of evening teased her nostrils. Too bad she couldn’t enjoy it. Ali’s huge frame towered over the plot of ground that had nearly been their final resting place. She waved and walked his way.
“Hope I haven’t caused you to wait,” she said.
“Not at all.”
“Curiosity has gotten the best of me. Is there an update on the assassin attempt? New info? Something I can help you with?”
“Walk with me.”
“Sure.” Her heart thudded as fiercely as if he’d held a weapon on her. She’d prefer the gun. She joined him and prayed for a text, a call, the Second Coming—anything to interrupt them.
A soft breeze of optimism blew her way. Kord could be wrong in his assumption. They stopped in front of the white marble bench where she and Kord had discussed the case.
“Would you like to sit?” he said.
