Guarding the Princess Read Online Free PDF Page B

of dark hair off her face. “And you have no compass, no GPS, there are no stars visible.”
    “I have my wits, sweetheart.”
    She muttered something darkly in Arabic.
    Brandt held up his palms. “Sorry. Habit.”
    “Yeah, I’m sure you have a whole truckload of habits. All good ones, too.” She brushed past him and hobbled off on her lopsided stilettos in the direction he’d indicated, leaving him behind this time.
    “And don’t whine that I’m going slow,” she yelled over her shoulder. “You have better shoes.”
    Another smile tempted his lips and Brandt trotted up behind her. Grasping her arm, he turned her back to face him. “That’s why you’re going to ride on my back.”
    “You’re not going to carry me.”
    “Why not?”
    “You...can’t.”
    “Piggyback. Just the detour. Come, hitch up that frock and hop on up.” He held his hand out to her.
    She stared at his hand, then lifted her eyes. “You’re some piece of work, you know that?”
    “That’s exactly why your brother sent me.”
    She pulled what was left of her dress to her hips and Brandt swung her around onto his back. Her thighs were firm and smooth, her body lean yet full in the right places. He swallowed as she settled against him, hooking her arms around his neck and gripping his hips between her thighs. Her massive diamond engagement ring butted against his chin, rubbing her nonavailability right into his face, even as he could smell the shampoo in her hair, her expensive perfume, feel her breasts pressing against his back.
    And as he began to jog, Brandt forced himself not to focus on the friction of her pelvis against his hips, but all he could think about suddenly was the scraps of silky G-strings he’d seen, and touched, in her drawer. And what she might be wearing now. A scrap of that same sensuous fabric was probably all that separated him from the most intimate parts of her body.
    Brandt inhaled, readjusting the rifle across his chest, his tiny flashlight panning the ground. He figured Amal and his thugs were probably ransacking the lodge in search of Dalilah right now, not anticipating someone had whisked her away. As far as he could tell, only one man had seen him trying to rescue the princess. And he’d killed that man.
    But come daybreak, they’d see his boot tracks. They’d come at a clip.
    Brandt began to move at a faster trot, wanting to reach the escarpment and descend into thicker riverine foliage as soon as possible. They’d be less visible there. The locals had already spotted—and stripped—his plane, which meant there was a chance he and Dalilah might be seen, too. Although he hoped the looming storm would keep most humans battened down in villages.
    Dalilah readjusted her position on his back, finding a better grip with her thighs. Desire swelled hot and sudden in his groin as her body rubbed against his. Brandt cursed softly to himself—physically, this woman really did it for him, in every way. She was his type, as Carla had been. And look what had happened to Carla.
    It hit Brandt hard right there—no matter what dangers the next hours, days or weeks brought, his biggest personal challenge was going to be proximity to the princess herself.
    He had a feeling she was going to be a little too hot for him to handle, and Brandt had zero intention of getting burned again.

Chapter 3
    D alilah felt herself slipping down Brandt’s back and once again tried to maneuver herself higher, squeezing her thighs tighter around his body as he trotted through long dry grass. But he was big between her legs and the strain of holding on was making her muscles burn. The back of his shirt was damp from exertion and his neck smelled very faintly of aftershave. It made her wonder about him—who he really was, where he’d been going before he’d suddenly been diverted into this mission. She wondered if he’d had any idea it was going to turn into this—a manhunt.
    Thunder grumbled again and the wind felt hotter. She