Read Online SEAL's Deception (Take No Prisoners Book 8) by Elle James - Free Book Online
Authors: Elle James
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He waited until Yasmin moved out of view of the door before opening it.
The chauffeur, dressed in fancy livery, wheeled a cart through the entrance, collected all five cases and rolled them toward the door, where he paused. “Your transportation is waiting in front of the building,” he said, dipping his head.
Ben started for the door.
Yasmin put out a hand and gave a slight shake of her head. “Thank you,” she said to the bellman. “We’ll be down momentarily.” When the door closed behind the bellman and the cart full of luggage, Yasmin glanced at Ben.
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
“No. Nothing. Just a bit of cold feet. What if the prince doesn’t approve of his bride? Our parents are living in the past with antiquated ways.”
Ben nodded without responding, recognizing a prepared speech when he heard it. She was performing for whoever might be watching through the eyes of the cameras. He assumed Princess Aliya had expressed her dismay at being promised to a man she had never met. Having grown up in the United Kingdom, she had become accustomed to living like a westerner. Her English friends would consider marrying because of a promise between parents positively barbaric.
Yasmin drew in a deep breath, let it out and straightened her shoulders. “Well, standing here won’t change anything. We might as well get on with it.”
Ben opened the door and checked the hallway before standing back to allow the princess to walk across to the elevator.
She ran her card over the scanner, shot a glance his way and nodded. “Let’s do this.”
The ride down was so much swifter than the ride up the day before. As they exited the elevator, Ben’s gaze scanned the building’s lobby for potential threats. He was happy to see Stingray and Irish standing near the concierge, dressed in dark clothes and sunglasses. Unfortunately, Ben wore the clothes he’d arrived in the night before.
Stingray had a duffel bag and Irish hefted two more, one containing his own clothes, the other with Ben’s.
The men nodded to each other, keeping talk to a minimum. As bodyguards, they would be expected to be seen and not heard unless absolutely necessary.
A chauffeur in dark livery stood by the door.
Yasmin dropped her key card on the registration counter. “Thank you for the lovely stay.” Then she turned and crossed the lobby.
Ben stepped through the door first, checked left then right, searching for any apparent threats. Two large, dark-skinned men stood beside a limousine. Neither appeared to be armed. A black van was parked behind the limousine. Ben assumed the men, who looked like the Middle Eastern equivalent to bouncers, would be riding in the van. “Are you here for Princess Aliya?” he asked.
They nodded.
Only mildly convinced Yasmin was not in danger, Ben opened the door.
She stepped out into the dreary English air.
The chauffeur opened the back door to the limousine.
Ben took Yasmin’s elbow, holding her back from getting in first. “Declan,” he called out.
Irish dove into the vehicle.
“Now, you.” Ben handed Yasmin into the limousine and slid onto the seat beside her. He glanced back at Stingray. “You can ride with the driver.” He ignored the two dark-skinned man and nodded to the chauffeur.
The man closed the door, rounded the limousine to the front and got in.
Stingray slid into the passenger seat and the limousine took off.
Behind them, the two bouncers climbed into the van and followed.
The limousine crept through the streets of London until they emerged on the highway leading to a private airport where Prince Khalid’s jet sat on the tarmac, probably fueled and ready to go.
Once they stepped onto that plane, there was no going back. They had to see that mission through to the very end. Whatever that end might be.
6
Y asmin’s feet hurt in the high heels. How Aliya walked in them, she had no idea. The straps bit into her skin and being pitched forward all the time made her
The chauffeur, dressed in fancy livery, wheeled a cart through the entrance, collected all five cases and rolled them toward the door, where he paused. “Your transportation is waiting in front of the building,” he said, dipping his head.
Ben started for the door.
Yasmin put out a hand and gave a slight shake of her head. “Thank you,” she said to the bellman. “We’ll be down momentarily.” When the door closed behind the bellman and the cart full of luggage, Yasmin glanced at Ben.
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
“No. Nothing. Just a bit of cold feet. What if the prince doesn’t approve of his bride? Our parents are living in the past with antiquated ways.”
Ben nodded without responding, recognizing a prepared speech when he heard it. She was performing for whoever might be watching through the eyes of the cameras. He assumed Princess Aliya had expressed her dismay at being promised to a man she had never met. Having grown up in the United Kingdom, she had become accustomed to living like a westerner. Her English friends would consider marrying because of a promise between parents positively barbaric.
Yasmin drew in a deep breath, let it out and straightened her shoulders. “Well, standing here won’t change anything. We might as well get on with it.”
Ben opened the door and checked the hallway before standing back to allow the princess to walk across to the elevator.
She ran her card over the scanner, shot a glance his way and nodded. “Let’s do this.”
The ride down was so much swifter than the ride up the day before. As they exited the elevator, Ben’s gaze scanned the building’s lobby for potential threats. He was happy to see Stingray and Irish standing near the concierge, dressed in dark clothes and sunglasses. Unfortunately, Ben wore the clothes he’d arrived in the night before.
Stingray had a duffel bag and Irish hefted two more, one containing his own clothes, the other with Ben’s.
The men nodded to each other, keeping talk to a minimum. As bodyguards, they would be expected to be seen and not heard unless absolutely necessary.
A chauffeur in dark livery stood by the door.
Yasmin dropped her key card on the registration counter. “Thank you for the lovely stay.” Then she turned and crossed the lobby.
Ben stepped through the door first, checked left then right, searching for any apparent threats. Two large, dark-skinned men stood beside a limousine. Neither appeared to be armed. A black van was parked behind the limousine. Ben assumed the men, who looked like the Middle Eastern equivalent to bouncers, would be riding in the van. “Are you here for Princess Aliya?” he asked.
They nodded.
Only mildly convinced Yasmin was not in danger, Ben opened the door.
She stepped out into the dreary English air.
The chauffeur opened the back door to the limousine.
Ben took Yasmin’s elbow, holding her back from getting in first. “Declan,” he called out.
Irish dove into the vehicle.
“Now, you.” Ben handed Yasmin into the limousine and slid onto the seat beside her. He glanced back at Stingray. “You can ride with the driver.” He ignored the two dark-skinned man and nodded to the chauffeur.
The man closed the door, rounded the limousine to the front and got in.
Stingray slid into the passenger seat and the limousine took off.
Behind them, the two bouncers climbed into the van and followed.
The limousine crept through the streets of London until they emerged on the highway leading to a private airport where Prince Khalid’s jet sat on the tarmac, probably fueled and ready to go.
Once they stepped onto that plane, there was no going back. They had to see that mission through to the very end. Whatever that end might be.
6
Y asmin’s feet hurt in the high heels. How Aliya walked in them, she had no idea. The straps bit into her skin and being pitched forward all the time made her
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