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happened. It could be a bluff to scare anyone thinking of snooping around. Or maybe it’s part of his plan to turn public opinion against Americans, painting them as spies trying to sabotage his wedding.”
    Mind games were Mikhail’s specialty. She didn’t point out that Harris was a spy who would ruin the emir’s wedding if Al-Adel was found in the country. “My mom didn’t like that you weren’t from our country.”
    Harris tucked his hands into his pants pockets.
    She was struck by his boyish charm. As a former American military man and FBI agent, he had deadly talents, ones she wouldn’t test, but he had an honest and open way about him. He was easy to trust. But wasn’t that the point? Getting people to trust him was part of the job.
    “I know she wasn’t thrilled with me. I expected that. I’ll have to win her over. I think telling her I was converting helped.”
    Did he care about her mother liking him? They weren’t a real couple. It shouldn’t matter what her mother thought. As long as she didn’t hate him, openly oppose the relationship or have Khalid protest their involvement, she and Harris could struggle through this assignment without her objections becoming another obstacle.
    “How are you doing? Has it been difficult for you to be here?” Harris asked.
    The question caught her off guard. Since arriving in Qamsar, she’d had an eerie sense of impending doom. So far the dropped bombs hadn’t been what she’d expected. Mikhail hadn’t announced her engagement to one of his lackeys. Mikhail hadn’t refused to allow her to return to America, though he had suggested it would be better for her to stay in Qamsar following the car bombing outside the café.
    An American in custody was unsettling, as was Mikhail’s warning to his guests. Foreign governments had taken an interest in the Emir of Qamsar, and his announcement made it clear his wedding wouldn’t distract him from his vigilance.
    “I’m fine. Worried about whoever Mikhail has in custody,” Laila said. Though they weren’t in her room, Harris was behaving differently toward her than he had in the company of her family. He was standing closer, and his focus was more intensely on her. Her conservative childhood beliefs battled with her new perspective on relationships. Leaning in and touching him was natural. Only knowing their relationship was make-believe stopped her.
    “I am, too. I’ll see what I can find out about it.”
    The sound of footsteps approached, and Harris pulled Laila behind a gazebo and against him. She could feel his breath on the top of her head and his heartbeat pounding in his chest. Wrapped in the band of his arms, she was warmer, safer. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Laila wanted and accepted the comfort of his arms around her.
    She had never touched a man this way. She’d never been hugged by anyone except her family, and even then shows of affection were infrequent. Her body stirred, and she rested her head against his chest and fisted his shirt in her hands, holding him to her. How would it feel to kiss him? To feel the press of his mouth hot against her, the way she had imagined a kiss would be? Curiosity and desire created a heady mix, which confused her and made her light-headed.
    Harris wasn’t her boyfriend or a man she was promised to marry, and yet being in his arms felt right. She felt alight with excitement.
    “I think they’re gone,” Harris said. He stepped away and straightened. “My apologies. I wasn’t making an advance. I was trying to hide you. I forgot myself for a moment.”
    Why did it sting that his actions were based only on protecting her? Being alone with a man was unfamiliar to her. What could she say to let him know she wasn’t offended without sounding forward? “I’m not upset. I’m glad you’re here. Being alone with a man is new to me, but it’s nothing like I’d imagined it to be.” It came with more powerful emotions. Desire. Happiness.
    Harris