Page 110 of Dangerous

“Just what I said, princeling. They will leave.”

“And what other plans did you have to get my mother out of here?”

“I had no plans!” Bouchard snapped, his voice rising.

“And you think that—”

“Jibril!” Mia caught her son’s arm. “You are shouting, both of you.”

“You should have heard what your precious mother threatened to do,” Bouchard said, not bothering to lower his voice.

“Oh, and what—”

The sound of a lot of swords being drawn from scabbards cut off whatever else he was going to say.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Adam grabbed Mia around the waist, pushing her behind him, and away from the sound of men and weapons.

“Hello, Jibril—what a surprise to find you here,” a voice called out in passable French.

“Assad!” Mia gasped behind him, struggling in Adam’s grip to get around him.

Adam grimaced at the pain in his back as he held tightly to her arm.

“Stay behind me, Mia,” he ordered in a low voice.

“I brought the ransom, just as you said. There is no need for more fighting, Assad,” Mia called out.

Adam cursed.

A light flared and a torch came to life, revealing the soldiers who had been hiding in a small clearing off to one side of the path. The man holding the torch was smiling grimly. A dozen armed men stood around him and more torches appeared, until it was almost as bright as day.

“Hello, Stepmother, how nice to see you again,” the smiling man said in French, his coffee brown eyes flickering between the members of their small group. “And who have you brought with you? From the description, I can only imagine this is the famous whoremonger Martín Bouchard.” He gave a mocking bow. “What an honor to have you in my kingdom, Bouchard. Have you come to return my ship to me?”

The privateer said something in Arabic that made the other man’s eyes narrow.

“That was uncalled for, but not entirely unexpected,” Assad replied in French.

Adam could only assume Assad was avoiding Arabic because he didn’t want his own men to understand what was being said. Was that because many of them might be loyal to Jibril?

“I will deal with you shortly, Captain,” Assad said before turning to Adam. “You, I don’t know.”

“I’m the man whose wife you threatened.” Adam shoved Mia back toward Jibril and took a step toward the wall of armed men. “It’s easy to make threats when you’ve a dozen soldiers at your back,” he said, using the most insulting tone he could find. “Won’t you fight me like a man? Or do you need your men to fight your battles for you?”

Assad’s face shifted and his confident veneer slipped, revealing hatred mixed with fear.

“An English duel, eh? Like English gentlemen.” He gave a shout of laughter. “I have read of such things. Unfortunately, I do not have time to play such games. I believe I will let my men kill all of you, beginning with you. Your whore of a wife can watch.” He said something in Arabic and the men began to move toward them.

“I say!” a deep voice called from the darkness beyond Assad’s men. “Did somebody forget to invite me to the party?”

The sound of weapons being drawn was like the crashing of waves on the beach. Ramsay stepped into the light, dozens of heads bobbing in the dimness behind him.

Adam had never been so happy to see anyone in his life.

“I thought you would be long gone by now, Exley,” the grinning giant said, his gaze flickering over Assad’s frozen, gaping men like a fox eyeing a henhouse.

“Well, one thing led to another, and . . .” Adam shrugged.