Man from Half Moon Bay by Iris Johansen Read Free Book Online Page B

have time to make return reservations before I reached Sedikhan.”
    He smiled faintly. “No detectives, I promise.”
    “Jordan, dammit, tell me—” She stopped, her eyes widening. “Wait just a minute … You wouldn’t, by any chance, also be a bosom buddy of Alex Ben Raschid’s?”
    “Alex and I are acquainted. Bandor Enterprises recently built a hotel in Marasef and I spent a few weekends at the palace when I was in Sedikhan seven months ago. Alex is a very interesting man. How did your interview with him turn out?”
    “Wonderfully. It may be the best thing I’ve ever done. He projects so much color and force.” She stopped by the passenger door of the Mercedes and turned to face him. “You did it, didn’t you? I thought it was weird that the sheikh’s secretary would suddenly call Mac to set up an interview, when he’d been refusing to see me for over a year. You pulled strings to get me that interview.”
    “Alex wouldn’t have given you an interview if you hadn’t had a solid reputation in your field.” Jordan unlocked the door and put the luggage in the backseat. “When he phoned to tell me the deed was done, he said he was very impressedwith you so you probably would have gotten the interview eventually anyway. I merely accelerated the process.”
    She reached out impulsively to grasp his arm. “But why did you do it?”
    He tensed and his gaze fell to her hand on his arm. Her gaze followed his own and she was suddenly acutely conscious of the pale slenderness of her fingers against the bronze muscularity of his forearm … of the warmth of his skin … of the magnetic vitality he exuded as an almost palpable force.
    She quickly withdrew her hand and smiled with an effort. “I thought we’d agreed there’d be no more presents.”
    “This wasn’t a present. It was reparation.”
    “Reparation?”
    He nodded. “I took nine months out of your career when I persuaded you to give it up when we were married. Since I stole something you valued, it was only right that I give you something you valued in return.”
    She swallowed to ease the sudden tightness in her throat. “Alex Ben Raschid on a silver platter?”
    His rare warm smile lightened the gravity of his face. “I doubt if anyone would dare even to try to serve Alex up on any kind of dish, but I’m glad if I could help. I’m afraid you’ll have to get Margaret Thatcher on your own. I’ve never met the lady.” He helped her into the car and in another moment was sliding into the driver’s seat beside her.“Lean back and relax. If you go to sleep, I’ll wake you when I get you home.”
    She shook her head. “Drop me off at
World Report.
I have to file my story right away or it won’t get in this week’s issue.”
    “It’s after three o’clock in the morning. You’re exhausted.” The sudden violence in his voice startled her. “Why the hell can’t it wait until—” He stopped as he saw her expression, and when he spoke again his tone was totally controlled. “You absolutely must file it tonight?”
    She nodded. “Deadlines. It goes with the territory.”
    “Okay.” He backed the Mercedes out of the parking space. “I’ll drive you to your office and wait outside until you’ve finished your work. Then I’ll drive you home.”
    She frowned. “That’s crazy. It may be hours before I’m free to leave. Just drop me off and I’ll take a taxi back to the loft.”
    “I’ll wait for you,” he repeated. He met her gaze and smiled faintly. “As you said, it goes with the territory.”
    The knock on the door was loud and authoritative.
    “I’ll be right there.” Sara snatched up her Windbreaker lying on the bed and hurried toward the door. “You’re early.” She threw open the door. “I expected—”
    “But the unexpected is always more interesting.”Cam grinned as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose. “You should have learned that by now, Sara. Jordan seldom does what anyone