Millions To Spare Read online

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about Julia. There was something about the passion, no, the anger she inspired in Harrison that left Brittany feeling unsettled.

  “I thought she left the country this morning,” said Alex.

  “Apparently, she did not.”

  “You want me to go down?”

  Harrison looked around. His hand went to the back of his neck. “Never mind. I’ll go.”

  Then he smiled courteously at Brittany, reaching down to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ve been fine,” said Brittany, determined not to be demanding, even though she would have appreciated a little more of Harrison’s attention.

  “Thank you,” he said, with what seemed to be genuine gratitude.

  She took comfort in his appreciation, then she and Alex watched him walk away.

  They both stared in silence at the empty doorway as minutes ticked by. Brittany knew she should stay back and see to the guests, but curiosity was burning within her.

  “I think we should go with him,” she finally ventured, hating the shimmer of what could possibly be jealousy, telling herself it would only take a minute.

  “I agree,” said Alex, putting a hand on the small of her back and guiding her through the crowded hall. “He may need some help.”

  The man named Nuri glared suspiciously at Julia while she waited in the small gatehouse. His mouth was set in a grim line, his dark eyes piercing beneath his blue turban. She tried not to squirm on the hard wooden chair, and kept her hands tightly folded in her lap.

  She felt a whole lot less than welcome here, that was for sure. And she knew she was risking Harrison’s temper by showing up on his doorstep. But she didn’t have anywhere else to go.

  Even if that roadblock hadn’t been intended for her-which it likely wasn’t, given that she hadn’t murdered anyone or stolen a hundred million in gold bullion-her name was probably in the central police computer. All it would have taken was for an officer to type in the particulars of her passport, and, wham, she’d be right back in jail.

  At least this way, there was a chance Harrison would help her. Even if Nuri looked as if he might do her in before she had a chance to talk to him.

  The door swung open, and she reflexively straightened her spine.

  “Where is she?” came Harrison’s gravelly voice.

  Nuri pointed with his riding crop, and Harrison turned.

  She struggled to gauge his mood. But everything about him was neutral. His tone, his expression, his posture. “I thought you were leaving.”

  “I tried,” she answered honestly.

  His eyes squinted down with skepticism. “How hard did you try?”

  She knew she needed to come clean. If she’d learned anything about Harrison, it was that he liked the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  “Robbie and Melanie left this morning,” she began. “And then I tried to leave this afternoon.” All true. “But there was this roadblock. At the airport.”

  He planted his butt against the edge of Nuri’s desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “And what are you leaving out?”

  “Nothing.” That was truly how it had happened. There was no reason for him to know she’d voluntarily changed her ticket.

  “They wouldn’t let you into the airport? Funny, my guests all arrived on time.”

  Oh, right. She’d left out something important. But she was nervous. Nuri, especially, was making her nervous.

  “The doorman at the hotel,” she quickly elaborated. “He said the police were looking for me. That’s why I was afraid of the roadblock at the airport.”

  “Are you making this up as you go along?”

  “No!”

  Harrison straightened away from the desk and moved toward her, definite skepticism in his tone this time. “And why would the police be looking for you?”

  She stood to lessen their height difference. She didn’t much like it when he loomed over her. Plus, this part was definitely not her fault.

  “I don’t know why they were looking for me. I thought you-” She cut herself off, remembering Nuri. Then she dropped her voice to a hissing whisper. “I thought you took care of that little thing.”

  “I did,” said Harrison. “What else did you do?”

  “Nothing. Nothing.”

  “I have a hard time believing that.”

  “Yeah? Well, you seem to have a hard time believing anything I say.”

  They stared at each other for a long minute.

  Then, apparently, he got tired of having an audience, because he latched on to her arm. “Out here.”

  She scrambled out the door with him, along a stone pathway that led over his lawn to a garden gazebo dotted with tables and lawn chairs.

  Hands on her upper arms, he sat her down on a padded chair.

  “Start from the beginning,” he demanded.

  There was that height difference again.

  “Sit,” she told him, gesturing to the next chair.

  His lips compressed into a line.

  “This feels like the Spanish Inquisition.”

  “No, it doesn’t. And you came to me, remember?”

  “Only because I had nowhere else to go.”

  Then she could have kicked herself for the sarcastic tone. She was asking this man for help. The least she could do was be civil about it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re not the Spanish Inquisition.”

  “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what this is all about.” But then he did sit down.

  Julia took a breath. She went through it from the beginning, all of it-changing her ticket, the doorman, the checkpoint, finally coming to Cadair.

  At the end of the hurried explanation, he sat back and gazed across the palm-tree-dotted gardens.

  Julia became aware of music coming from the palace. She glanced up and saw lights streaming from every window, flickering lanterns on the veranda and guests, many, many guests both outside and in. It was then that she realized Harrison looked even more formal than usual.

  In fact, he was wearing a tux, with a ribboned medal of some kind pinned to his lapel.

  “You’re having a party.” she stated.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the palace. “I am.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That you interrupted my party?”

  She nodded.

  He coughed out a cold laugh. “I think that’s the least of our worries at the moment.”

  “Is it a special party?”

  He raised a brow. “Now who’s the Spanish Inquisition?”

  “There must be three hundred people in there.”

  “It’s the secretary-general’s reception for the United Nations International Economic Summit.”

  She pasted her gaze on the glittering crowd, suddenly feeling as if she’d fallen into another dimension. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. I am not kidding.”

  She was so out of her league here. No wonder she and Harrison had a hard time understanding each other.

  He cracked a grim half smile. “This part is the reason your arrival caused us so much grief. Had you only been a horse thief, my life would have been a whole lot simpler.”

  She blinked her focus back to Harrison. “I don’t understand.” Was he sorry she hadn’t been after his horse?

  “I thought you were a covert operative sent here to assassinate a Syrian diplomat.”

  Julia had no response to that.

  She honestly could not think of a single thing to say.

  Wait a minute. Her heart sank. “You don’t think the police-”

  “No, no.” Harrison vehemently shook his head. “Alex and I were the only ones who even thought of it.”

  “You can’t be sure.”

  “Yes, I can. Other than the guests and their own security staff, very few people even know about this party. Besides.” He paused. “If some
body else thought you were a spy, it wouldn’t be the police out looking for you.”

  Julia swallowed.

  She struggled to find her voice. “There was a roadblock.”

  “That likely had nothing to do with you.” But then his expression turned contemplative. “You say they came to your hotel?”

  It was her turn to nod. “Does that seem like a lot of trouble for a suspected horse thief?”

  “I’m afraid so,” he agreed.

  “You sure they don’t think I’m a spy?”

  Footsteps clattered on the gazebo steps, and Julia’s heart wedged in her throat.

  “There you are,” came Alex’s voice.

  He came to a halt with Brittany by his side.

  She was dressed in a metallic silver gown, full-length, with a gorgeous, flowing hemline around strappy sandals. The bodice was snug, while the neck was a wide band of exquisitely embroidered netting, decorating her shoulders and chest with gold, looped threads, and gold-and-silver beading.

  Her hair was upswept, with a small jeweled comb, while enormous diamonds twinkled on her ears and at her right wrist. She looked as though she’d stepped off a Paris runway.

  Julia’s pleated, gray skirt and matching bolero jacket felt staid and frumpy. Her canvas flats didn’t help the situation, either.

  “Is everything okay?” asked Alex.

  “Wouldn’t Ms. Nash prefer to come inside?” asked Brittany.

  Julia looked at Harrison, uncertain what to tell the two.

  “Julia’s hit a spot of trouble,” said Harrison.

  Brittany’s expression instantly turned concerned. She sat down in the chair directly across from Julia. “Can I help?”

  “What kind of trouble?” asked Alex, his hand wrapping around the metal crossbar of Brittany’s chair.

  And then Julia remembered he was a lawyer. Would he be under any obligation to turn her in?

  “For some reason the police are looking for her,” said Harrison.

  “But you-” Alex cut himself off, his gaze taking a telltale flick toward the top of Brittany’s head.

  “I’m sure it’s a simple mix-up,” said Harrison heartily. Julia guessed he was speaking for Brittany’s benefit. “But could you make a couple of discreet inquiries?”

  “Of course,” said Alex.

  “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable in the house,” said Brittany. “We can go in through the back. You don’t have to join the rest of the party.”

  Her expression told Julia she wasn’t stupid. Harrison and Alex might not want to talk in front of her, but she got that they were hiding Julia from what might not be such a simple mix-up.

  There was another clatter on the gazebo stairs, these footfalls light and fast.

  All heads turned toward the sound.

  It was Leila. She was panting, and her eyes were round in the dim light.

  “The police,” she gasped. “They’re at the gate.”

  Chapter Seven

  Harrison jumped to his feet, while Julia froze in place. The dank jail cell rose in her mind again, and she could feel the scratchy cloth against her bare skin.

  “I’ll go,” said Alex.

  Brittany rose, as well. “I’ll come with you.”

  Both men opened their mouths to protest.

  “I’ll join you,” said Brittany in a tone of steel. “I am the hostess, and they will be forced to treat all of my questions with respect.”

  Alex looked to Harrison, and Harrison nodded, obviously realizing Brittany intended to slow the police down. “That’s a good idea.”

  Leila spoke again. This time to Julia. “My father says I should take you to the barn.”

  “Your father?”

  “Nuri,” said Harrison.

  Julia’s eyes widened. Were they crazy? Nuri had probably set a trap for her. In fact, he’d probably called the police himself.

  “It’s safe,” said Harrison.

  “But-”

  “He’s loyal to me. It’s safe.”

  Julia wasn’t so sure. But as Alex and Brittany set off for the gatehouse, she rose shakily to her feet.

  Leila led the way. “My father suggests you go to the vet’s office. I’ll saddle up Roc and Cedar Twist. If the worst comes…”

  “No lights,” said Harrison.

  Leila shook her head. “I won’t need them.”

  “If the worst comes, what?” asked Julia, glancing from one to the other.

  Harrison answered her. “We’ll ride into the desert.”

  She looked over her shoulder at the far-off gatehouse. “You mean they might not go away?”

  “I mean, they might search the property.”

  And she’d be fleeing into the night?

  With Harrison or Leila?

  Would they get lost in the desert? Die of thirst out there?

  And how the hell was she going to get out of the country if they were in the middle of the desert?

  Before she could voice any of her questions, Leila opened a side door to the main barn, and they slipped inside.

  Harrison took hold of Julia’s hand.

  She tried not to give away her fear by gripping tight, but she couldn’t help herself. If the police found her, they’d take her back to jail.

  “Is there a bathroom in here?” she whispered.

  Harrison wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “We’ll meet you at the vet’s office,” he said to Leila.

  “Ten minutes,” Leila responded, and then her footfalls disappeared down the main hallway.

  Julia blinked, but all she could make out was the dark bars of the nearest stalls. The horses shifted and snorted in the depths of the barn while the tang of hay and manure hit her nostrils.

  “This way,” said Harrison, guiding her to the left.

  “Can you see?” she asked.

  “Enough. Do you really need the loo?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have some kind of problem?”

  “No! I have perfectly normal bodily functions. But they don’t seem to allow for that in UAE jails.”

  “You’re urinating in case they take you back to jail.”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  Harrison sighed audibly. “Don’t be pessimistic.”

  How could she help but be pessimistic? They’d practically stormed Harrison’s gate.

  “Who are they?” she asked. “Why are they here? I didn’t do anything.”

  “Let’s let Alex do his job. He’ll fix it.”

  “What if he can’t fix it?”

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

  “But what if he can’t fix it, and they search the place?”

  “Then we’ll leave.”

  “Into the desert?”

  “Yes.”

  “Won’t they chase us?” Julia couldn’t help picturing herself as a player in some kind of desert action flick. The kind where the thirsty, battered, innocent protagonists were trapped in blind canyons by the corrupt cops who had automatic weapons.

  Harrison was silent.

  “Here’s the ladies’,” he finally said.

  “Thank you.” She felt her way into the small room and closed the door. She’d better get ready for another trip to jail, considering their chances of outrunning the police force seemed dismally small.

  Perhaps Harrison would be so kind as to teach her the word for bathroom in Arabic.

  Afterward, she felt her way back out the door.

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “Not much.”

  “Listen.” He put a hand on either side of her, trapping her against the wooden wall.

  The rough boards dug into her shoulders and her rear end.

  He leaned in close so she could just make out his features. “I am not going to let them arrest you.”

  There was a certainty in his eyes and a determination in his chin that, against all logic, gave her a welcome boost of confidence.

  “You might not have a choice,
” she pointed out.

  “I have more choices than most.”

  “Because you’re wealthy.”

  There was a pause. “Yes.”

  Of course.

  It was a whole other world when you were wealthy.

  Unfortunately, Julia wasn’t.

  She wasn’t even all that strong. She didn’t want this to be happening to her. She impulsively placed her palm on his chest. The rhythmic beat of his heart pulsed with life, and she willed some of his strength to seep into her body.

  He closed his eyes for a split second, and the muscles in his shoulders bunched. His heartbeat deepened, and his scent swirled out around her.

  The passion from the pool house invaded her body. Fear and desire coalesced to one emotion, and her focus shifted to his mouth. Just once, she thought. Just once before her life went to hell.

  His lips parted and he dipped his head.

  Her hand curled into a fist with his shirt trapped inside. She pulled herself up on her toes, slanting her head, tipping forward.

  His hand wrapped around the back of her head and dragged her in.

  His lips met hers, full on, hot and open.

  Passion welled to life from her belly, roiling out to every finger and toe. She opened her mouth, and his tongue invaded. His free arm wrapped around her waist, clutching her firmly to his body, her breasts plastered against him, her belly molding to the shape of his arousal, her thighs flush up against his, not a centimeter between them.

  His kiss went to her neck, her ear, her temple, then back to her mouth. He stroked her cheek, ran his hand over her hair, slid the other over her buttocks, kissing her over and over again.

  Then something banged in the barn.

  A horse, most likely.

  But they both jolted back to reality.

  He broke the kiss and held her tight, gasping beside her ear, one hand still clasping her bottom.

  “Not good,” he rasped.

  “Sorry,” she breathed against his chest.

  He shook his head. “That wasn’t your fault.”

  “It was the fear,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, his grasp on her loosening slowly.

  “Could have happened to anyone.” She forced herself to pull back.

  “The heat of the moment,” he said.

  “Exactly.” She brushed the wrinkles from the front of his dress shirt.

  He took a half step back. “There’s no need-”