Traitor by Murray McDonald Read Free Book Online

her physique, it seemed she was used to using the pool. He tried really hard not to look. He had a daughter her age but couldn’t help notice that the tone of her skin was natural. Either she had an incredibly even tan or an exceptionally good tanning salon. However, her long, dark, wavy locks hinted towards a Middle Eastern heritage, despite her height and bone structure and most importantly, her blue eyes that suggested a European, Dutch or Germanic heritage. Whatever the case, he could see why Nick Geller would have been interested. Hell, he was past it and didn’t have a chance in hell but he was interested.
    He passed her a towel he had retrieved for her from the house. ““Do you mind if I ask how you afford this place?”
    “It’s free,” she replied, drying off as he averted his eyes again. “They like having me in the grounds.”
    “Free, as in nothing?” He looked again at the guest house which on its own was easily worth two million dollars.
    “I suppose having a Secret Service agent as a guard dog is no bad thing,” she smiled.
    Carson looked at her, spotting the lie, or more correctly, the lack of the whole truth.
    “Who’s the owner?”
    Frankie shrugged awkwardly. “My mom and dad.”
    “I thought your dad was an accountant at a small firm?” said Carson, giving away more than he wanted to about how much he had looked into her.
    Frankie squinted at the realization of how much interest she had generated since Nick’s actions. Carson had hung back to get her alone, he had insisted on giving her a lift. Frankie had no doubt her house would have been searched the moment Nick was the suspect. It wasn’t exactly why she had suggested going there but it had played a part. Perhaps it was time to give Carson something more interesting to think about.
    “He is but he did marry a Saudi princess,” she said, dropping her towel and getting dressed as Carson struggled to compose himself from the two bombshells that had just hit him.

Chapter 12
     
     
    Nick woke up to a small vibration on his right wrist. His GPS alarm had activated. He opened his eyes and was assaulted by the vision of an inanely smiling prince looking directly at him.
    “You’re awake,” announced the prince excitedly.
    Nick closed his eyes again and shook his head and not for the first time wondered if his choice of benefactor may have been misjudged.
    “Would you like a drink, sir?” offered a stewardess who had appeared on hearing the prince’s voice.
    “Just a glass of water, thank you,” replied Nick.
    “Would you like…?” asked the prince, gesturing towards the stewardess.
    Nick was not entirely clear on the prince’s meaning.
    “There is a bedroom through that door,” he winked.
    Nick, much to his own surprise, shook his head in disgust. Not that the stewardess was not attractive— she was stunning, just like his Frankie. He mentally corrected himself, she wasn’t his any more.
    “No, of course not,” he said. Once again, his only regret from that day’s actions raised its head.
    “I apologize,” said the prince, suitably chastised by Nick’s look of disgust.
    Nick looked out of the small window and was pleased to see the view. Land lay ahead to the left. After five hours of continuous ocean, the firm prospect of escaping the confines of the aircraft and the prince was a welcome sight. The prince meant well and was obviously elated at the news that his Caliph had died as a martyr to further their cause, but to say he was somewhat full on about it would have been an understatement. Nick liked his space and had it not been for the quarter of a billion dollars he needed, he would have taken it happily.
    “I need to speak with your pilot,” announced Nick. “Can he be trusted?”
    The prince shook his head. “I’m afraid not but he can certainly be bought.”
    The stewardess reappeared with Nick’s water and from the look on her face, she had heard and not appreciated his rejection. Nick looked at the