Harrison shouted his thanks, then signaled for Julia to come out of the small house near the landing site where she had waited with Ahmed. She’d changed into plainer clothes, but her makeup was still heavy, and her hands were patterned with henna dye.

With a quick glance around the town for any danger, he took her hand and they dashed across the sand to the chopper.

Harrison helped her into the backseat, then climbed in next to the pilot and signaled for the man to take off.

Ahmed’s family had insisted that Julia keep the wedding jewelry. In return, Harrison had left the keys to the Jeep for Ahmed.

As they pulled toward the blue sky, Harrison broke the seal on the pouch. He extracted Julia’s new passport and handed it back to her.

The relief on her face did his heart good. They’d succeeded. She’d be safe now.

She opened the book and looked down at her new name, and a flash of unease went through her eyes. He was reminded she was safe at a cost. He reached back to squeeze her knee.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assured her.

As he turned to face forward, his glance caught the pilot’s profile beneath his helmet.

The man was missing the tip of his nose.

Fear instantly gripped Harrison’s gut, even as he struggled to keep his features impassive. Could Rafiq have betrayed them?

Muwaffaq would either kill them in midair-two bodies in the midst of the desert would probably never be found. Or he’d fly them somewhere to question Julia. If the people he worked for thought she had information they wanted, they might try to torture it out of her.

He glanced back at her, his conscience burning with regret. In an effort to save Julia, he might have just signed her death warrant.

She squinted a look of confusion at the change in his expression, but he didn’t dare try to signal anything. His only advantage was that Muwaffaq didn’t know he was onto him. Besides, there was nothing to be gained by panicking Julia.

He sifted through his options.

If he tried to overpower the man, he could easily bring down the chopper. And Muwaffaq was probably armed.

If they landed, he’d have a better chance of overpowering him. But if they landed where Muwaffaq had planned, where reinforcements would certainly meet the chopper, he and Julia would have no chance at all.

He couldn’t risk that.

Whatever he did had to happen in midair.

Adrenaline pumped through his system in time with the throbbing of the engine. He rested his hand in his lap, surreptitiously clicking open the metal buckle on his seat belt.

He painstakingly freed his arm, while making and discarding plans of attack.

But then Muwaffaq caught his movement, and his time was up.

Harrison gave a yell and elbowed Muwaffaq in the center of the throat.

The man’s eyes bugged out, and he gasped a breath, his hands reflexively going for the injury.

“Harrison!” Julia cried out from the backseat as the chopper tilted and the engine whined.

Harrison flipped open the man’s seat-belt buckle, then stretched to close his hands over the controls. He hadn’t flown in at least a year, but all other options had meant certain death.

“Drag him back,” he shouted to Julia, stuffing his feet on top of Muwaffaq’s, scrambling to get some semblance of control over the tail rotor.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, even as she wiggled out of her own seat belt to follow his instructions.

Muwaffaq was gasping for breath. If he recovered from the blow, all hell would break loose.

As Julia clambered between the seats, she got a look at the man’s nose.

She hesitated for a split second, and Muwaffaq took the opportunity and grabbed her by the throat.

Harrison was barely keeping them airborne. He didn’t dare let go of the controls, but Julia was struggling and coughing.

He elbowed Muwaffaq again, this time catching him in the solar plexus.

The man’s grip loosened enough that Julia pulled free and rocketed into the backseat.

“Shit,” Harrison spat out, as Muwaffaq began to fight back.

He risked lifting a foot from the pedals and kicked at the man.

Muwaffaq grunted, and Harrison kicked again.

Then the helicopter door popped open.

Julia screamed.

Harrison gasped.

And Muwaffaq went tumbling into midair, his arms and legs flailing as he plummeted toward the dunes.

Harrison flopped into the pilot’s seat, stabilized the aircraft, then slammed the door shut.

His breathing was labored, and his hands were shaking.

It took him a minute to get them flying straight.

When she finally spoke, Julia’s voice was shaking, barely a rasp. “Is he dead?”

“Our altitude is five hundred feet.”

“Then I guess he’s dead.”

Harrison didn’t dare turn his attention to the backseat. “I’m more concerned about you. Are you all right?”

“I think so.”

“Did he hurt your neck?”

“A little. I think it’s bruised.”

“Are there any sharp pains?”

“No.”

Harrison breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll have you home soon.”

“You know how to fly this thing?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “If I didn’t know how to fly this thing, we’d have hit the ground a long time ago.”

She didn’t answer, but he thought he heard the rustle of her nod.

“You sure you’re all right?” he asked again. It was very likely she was in shock. If so, he wanted to keep her talking. And it was probably a good idea for him to keep himself talking, too.

“We just killed somebody,” she said, horror and awe in her voice.

“No. Somebody tried to kill us. We defended ourselves.”

“Is that a crime in the UAE?”

“You planning to confess to someone?”

She didn’t answer.

“He was a very bad man, Julia. His body may never be found. And it’s in our best interest that whoever he worked with not know we had anything to do with his death. Understand?”

Her voice was still shaking. “I guess.”

He nodded to the other front seat. “Can you climb up here?”

“I’ll try.”

It took her a minute to maneuver her way between the two seats, but Harrison felt better once he could see her.

“Do up your seat belt.”

She stared at him for a second, and then a weak laugh sputtered out of her.

“Safety first?” she asked in an incredulous voice, then she laughed harder.

Harrison couldn’t help but grin in response. “You were great, by the way”

“Me?” she asked, pointing to her chest. “You were amazing. You can fly a helicopter. You beat up bad guys. And you married me and got me a great passport. I may have to be your slave for life.”

“Deal,” he said, without missing a beat.

She gestured toward him. “See that? You’re funny, too.”

“Who says I was joking?”

She hiccuped out a final laugh.

“Do up your seat belt,” he told her again. The last thing he wanted was to have her whack her head because they hit some rough air.

“What about you?” she asked, but dutifully did up the buckle.

“Now you can do up mine.”

She leaned over and fastened the clasp around his hips, her hand brushing his lap, practically making him leap out of the seat. He’d heard danger heightened a man’s libido, and he guessed he now knew it was true.

By the time Harrison put the helicopter down on the grounds at Cadair, the sun had turned to an orange ball, sinking its way into the ocean. He flipped some switches and the motor went silent.

Julia tried to rally herself in the passenger seat. She was exhausted. She’d been through every emotion possible over the past two days, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide from the world.

But that was impossible. She still had to get out of the country, the sooner the better.

Before she could undo her seat belt, someone yanked open the passenger door, and she found herself looking into Nuri’s strained face. She could swear the man looked pale.

“You are all right?” he asked, as if he actually cared. Then his attention jumped to Harrison and back again.

Harrison nodded. “We’re okay.”

“We found the real pilot. In a bathroom at the hangar.” Nuri paused and glanced at Julia. “He was unconscious.”

“I’m glad he isn’t dead,” said Harrison, releasing his own seat belt, then reaching over to undo Julia’s.

She groaned as she moved forward in the seat. Her muscles were stiff, and her throat was still sore.

“You were not harmed?” asked Nuri, offering his hands to assist her. He didn’t touch her, waiting for her to touch him instead.

When she placed her hands in his, his grasp was firm and sure. She stepped carefully down to the ground.

“There was a struggle,” said Harrison, exiting the chopper and making his way around to Julia.

Nuri kept hold of her hands, and she realized he was staring at them. She glanced down and remembered the henna designs. She looked to Harrison, realizing that Nuri would understand what the designs symbolized.

Harrison took over from Nuri, his arm going firmly around her shoulders, and Nuri released her hands.

“Have the police been called?” Harrison asked.

Nuri shook his head. “We did not know what to tell them.”

“Good. There’s nothing to tell.”

“And the man who took the helicopter?”

“We left him behind.”

Nuri took one more glance at Julia’s hand, then he nodded.

“Not a lot about this trip is worth discussing,” said Harrison.

“I understand completely.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll take care of the helicopter.”

“Take care of the man who was hurt, as well.”

“Yes, sir,” said Nuri.

Harrison turned to Julia and they started toward the palace. “Are you bribing that man to stay quiet?” she asked. A week ago she might have minded, but at the moment a bribe was perfectly okay by her.

“I’m taking care of his medical bills,” said Harrison.

“Oh.” She regretted that the question had made her sound suspicious.

Her legs grew more steady as they headed up the stone pathway that led to one of the side doors of the palace.

“And anything else his family needs,” Harrison continued.

They walked a little farther in silence.

“So, yeah,” said Harrison. “I guess you could say I’m bribing him to keep him quiet.”

Harrison was using the special privileges of the rich. He was bribing people to keep her safe. In a bizarre way, it warmed her heart.

“Thank you,” she told him. “One more time.”

Harrison gave her a squeeze. “That’s what husbands do. Let’s go up the back way. And you can get some sleep.”

“What about getting out of the country?”

“We’ll take care of that tomorrow. Do you want the same room?”

She hesitated, not ready to leave Harrison just yet. He’d come to represent strength and security in a world that was completely off-kilter. She was also still worried about the police. And she was more than a little rattled by the altercation in the helicopter.

“This is going to sound pathetic,” she told him, pausing at the bottom of the veranda stairs.

He waited.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

He gave her a teasing smile and smoothed her hair from her face. “Are you feeling sentimental about your wedding night?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m feeling afraid of the local thugs and the police.”

But deep down inside, she was feeling sentimental about her wedding night. Because, no matter what the language, she’d married Harrison today. It was his name on her passport, and they were bound in the eyes of the law.

She glanced down. She might not have a ring on her finger, but she did have the stamp of their wedding all over her hands.

“It will wash off in a couple of weeks,” he told her.

“Fitting,” she mused. “Most women get a diamond that lasts forever.”

“You want a diamond?”

She glanced up. “That would be silly.”

And it would make more of this than there was. As soon as she was out of the country, either she or Harrison would start divorce proceedings. Six months from now, this would be nothing but a strange footnote in her life.

He gazed at her with a smirk and a challenging lift of his eyebrows. “So which will it be? In the name of protection, do you want me in your bed, or just in your room?”

Good question.

“Lord Rochester,” Leila’s voice sang as she appeared at the veranda rail. She pushed herself off and trotted down the stairs to greet them. “You are back.”

“We are back.”

“So all is well?” she asked, her expression worried.

“Yes. It is now.”

She smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“We’re tired,” said Harrison.

Leila reached for Julia’s hands.