“Nothing. I just need to talk to Jamal. I’ll see you tomorrow, Anton. And thanks for the champagne.” There was no need to tell Anton he was thinking about sinking his fingers into Mila’s hair, then kissing her senseless before stripping her naked. He also didn’t need to inform him that in one moment, this woman had made his heart tumble into love with her.
Zain set down the basket of food next to the guard and Anton. Zain’s SUV was parked out front under constant watch since the accident. He was so focused on getting to Mila that he didn’t see the guard slipping a twenty to Anton to cover his bet.
“Zain!” Abby yelled as she hurried from the house. Zain only gunned the engine in response as he took off for town. What he was doing did not require twenty-four-hour guard duty. Besides, he was now armed. The Sig Sauer P226 was in a harness at his hip. All he had to worry about was focusing on the road long enough to get to Mila’s.
Mila climbed the spiral metal staircase and dug around her purse to find the key. As she began to climb the narrow stairs, a loud clap of thunder cracked. The skies opened and the rain began to lash the house in heavy torrents. Maybe if she was lucky, the morning farm tour would be cancelled and she could sneak in some time with Zain. It was strange how they had been so near each other most of the day, yet she missed him. She missed the way they talked . . . and the way they touched. Mila let out a sigh and unlocked the door, shoved it open, and climbed up. She was falling in love with the last person she should fall in love with. They had no future together beyond this week.
The night storm raging outside had sent cool, albeit wet air into her attic room. Mila reluctantly closed the window nearest her bed and stripped out of her clothes. She slid into a button-up shirt that was a little too large and turned off the lights except for a small lamp beside her bed before heading for the bathroom.
The attic may have been partially unfinished and hotter than hell, but it did have an amazing tub. She would climb in to soak with the lights off and the window open. She loved the sound of storms, and from where she could lie in the tub, she could see the lightning out the window. After running the water, Mila turned off the lights and tossed her shirt to the ground. She sighed with pleasure and listened to the steady fall of raindrops as she lounged in the warm water.
Her eyes drifted shut but sprang open soon after. She had heard a noise that was not the melody the storm was playing. Instinctively, she covered her breasts and sat up slowly. All of her senses came alive as she strained to tune out the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain.
There! It was the muffled sound of a window sliding open. Mila felt her heart speed up as she shivered in fear. As quietly as she could, she rose from the tub and reached for her shirt. The heavy sound of the rain beating against the house masked the sound of water falling from her body. Mila glanced around for something to use to defend herself. Her purse, her phone . . . everything was on the bed near the window that was being opened.
Mila opened the little closet that held extra towels to see if there was a weapon to use. Right now all she could see was her hair dryer. She was about to close the closet when she saw the best she was going to get in the dark corner. The toilet plunger.
Carrying it like a baseball bat, she quietly stole across the long room. She hung to the shadows of the attic under construction. As she waited, the intruder pushed up on the window and fell through, landing with a loud thud on the floor. Mila charged. With a war cry, she sprinted the short distance from the shadowed walls and swung the plunger for all she was worth at the figure on the floor.
It was a man—a wet man. Water had pooled on the ground from his saturated clothes and the open window. He was in the process of pulling something from under his jacket when he heard her and rolled to the side. The plunger struck the ground hard and vibrations ran up her arm as the man sprang to his feet. His strong arms snaked around her, spinning her until he had her back pinned against his chest. His hand was across her mouth as Mila did her best impression of a rabid dog trying to bite anything she could.
“Mila! Dammit, listen to me. Stop fighting!”
Mila froze. Listening? Who was listening? She was fighting for her life. But he’d said her name.
“It’s me. Zain. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” Zain said with patience this time. “Are you going to scream again?”
Mila shook her head no as she felt her whole body grow limp as the flow of adrenaline cut off. Zain dropped his hand. “Are you freaking crazy? You scared me to death. You don’t go climbing into someone’s window in the middle of the night during a storm. How did you even get up here?” Mila smacked his shoulder and headed to close the window.
“I thought it would be romantic,” Zain said a little embarrassed.
“Sure, scaring me really turns me on.”
Zain gave a sheepish smile and reaching to his back. “Even if I brought champagne?”
“Mila? Open up! Are you okay?” Poppy hammered on the floor door.
Mila’s eyes went wide. This was beyond embarrassing and definitely not helping to keep their relationship secret. “Get under the bed,” she hissed before calling out, “I’m coming!”
“I am not getting under a bed like a teenager caught making out. Especially when we weren’t even making out.” Zain crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down.
“Well, you sure as hell aren’t going to send out another town text! Now if you want any chance at seeing what’s under this shirt, and trust me when I say it’s fabulous, get your royal ass under that bed!”
Mila didn’t wait to see if he obeyed her or not; she just marched to the door. She took a couple of calming breaths and then unlocked it. Poppy quickly slid the door open and jumped up with a massive shotgun in hand.
“I got a call of screaming and ran over. I saw you in the window hitting someone. Where are they? I’ll shoot the bastard!” Poppy scanned the room with her gun.
“I’m so embarrassed. I had all the lights off to take a bath and listen to the rain. When I got out, I forgot I left the window open and the curtain was fluttering. I thought someone was there. All I did was break your plunger. I’m so sorry,” Mila apologized.
Poppy lowered her gun and gave her an amused smile. “That’s all right, hon. Better safe than sorry. You want me to leave the gun with you?”
“Thank you, but I’ll be fine. It’s not as if it’s easy to get up here. I’m pretty safe in my tower.” Mila laughed and forced herself to keep her eyes away from the bed that Zain was hiding beneath.
Zain felt a sneeze building. There was no stopping it. His nose was twitching, his eyes were watering, and it wasn't going to stop. Mila didn’t give him a choice on where to hide or he’d have chosen someplace else. She just ordered him under the bed. When he made his dive under the tall bed, he’d kicked up dust from the renovation. He didn’t know whether to be mad or amused. No woman had ever made him hide so she wouldn’t be seen with him.
“Okay, if you’re sure then. I’ll see you in the morning. You have my number; don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.” Zain heard Poppy wish Mila a good night, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
The sneeze erupted and then there was silence.
“Excuse me. I guess I’m not used to the pollen in Kentucky yet,” he heard Mila say.
“It’s all right, hon. I’ve been here five years and I’m still not used to it either. Good night.”
The door slid closed and Zain crawled out from under the bed and found Mila staring down at him shaking her head. “You couldn’t hold it for five more seconds?”
“Ah, but you’re so smart; you covered for me. We make a good team.” Zain winked as he held up the bottle of champagne. “Should we celebrate how good we are together?”