Page 38 of Her Irresistible Sheik (Al-Sintra Family #9)

“What are you doing up here?” Mikail’s deep voice rumbled behind her as he stepped onto the upper terrace of the fortress.

Nahla didn’t answer right away. She felt him slide his arms around her waist, and she instinctively leaned back into his embrace. His warmth settled over her like a favorite blanket. She smiled when he pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, inhaling her clean scent of mint and soap.

“Never mind,” he murmured, chuckling softly as his gaze moved past her to the eastern sky. “Stupid question.”

She lifted her camera just as a flash of neon orange painted the clouds above the horizon, and the click of her shutter broke the hush of early morning. Mikail remained still behind her, resting his chin against her temple, watching the world change color.

The sunrise today was dramatic—far more brilliant than usual.

A recent sandstorm, probably several hundred miles away, had stirred up particles that now hung suspended in the atmosphere.

Those bits of sand and grit turned the sunlight into a kaleidoscope.

Where a normal sunrise would have transitioned steadily from charcoal to navy, then soft gray, yellow, and finally blue, this morning’s display exploded in purples, deep pinks, blazing golds, and fiery vermilion.

The clouds looked like molten glass, backlit by the climbing sun.

Nahla sighed, the sound full of contentment as she lowered her camera. Her fingers were cold, but she didn’t mind. She had the shot.

Mikail tightened his hold, his arms firm around her as the first true warmth of the sun touched their faces. Neither of them said anything. There was no need.

Eventually, she turned in his arms, facing him with a radiant smile. Her cheeks were pink from the chill, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Good morning,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer—just kissed her. Slow and reverent, his lips moved over hers with tenderness that stole her breath.

She’d agreed to marry him. He still couldn’t believe it. His chest swelled with something fierce and protective every time he looked at her. Nahla. His.

Now, he just had to make it permanent—solidify the deal between Tavista and Lativa. There would be negotiations, politics, details. Mikail didn’t care. He’d trade away half his treasury if it meant waking up beside her every day for the rest of his life.

A sharp noise echoed from behind them.

They broke apart, and Nahla turned first. Tom stepped out onto the terrace, looking oddly breathless. He wasn’t alarmed, exactly—but something was up.

“Your Highnesses, you’re going to want to see this,” Tom said, eyes still wide.

Mikail tensed instinctively, his arm tightening around Nahla, but the flicker of amusement in the other man’s face relaxed him again.

“What’s going on?” he asked, releasing Nahla but taking her hand as they followed Tom down the hallway.

Tom didn’t answer immediately. He pushed open the doors to the security room, where a half dozen guards were now clustered around the main screen. The room buzzed with energy.

“See for yourself,” Tom said, gesturing toward one of the monitors.

At first, Mikail wasn’t sure what he was looking at.

“Isn’t that…?” Nahla asked, stepping closer, squinting at the grainy footage.

“Yes,” Tom confirmed. “That’s the assassin—Clyde. Or whatever his real name is.”

The camera feed showed a narrow, dingy alleyway, the view slightly tilted, as if the motion-detecting camera had been triggered at an odd angle.

On screen, Clyde—recognizable despite the limp and splint—was gesturing wildly.

Across from him stood a woman with dark hair pulled into a ponytail, her arms crossed, expression lethal.

“Is there no audio?” Mikail asked.

“Not yet. This was a lucky catch,” Tom explained.

“Last night, someone found dried blood in a utility closet. That’s why I flew out here directly this morning.

We were investigating that when this came in.

One of my guys noticed movement on one of the long-range perimeter cameras.

And…well, we were able to enhance the footage.

” He shook his head with a half laugh. “We were trying to figure out if it was Clyde, and then the woman started yelling. That’s when it got interesting. ”

Nahla leaned closer, her breath fogging the screen. “Wait. Is his jaw swollen?”

Tom nodded. “Looks like it. And his thumb’s still splinted.”

Mikail’s eyes narrowed. “That woman. She’s not one of ours.”

“No,” Tom said, his voice filled with awe. “That woman has been tracking him. We’re not sure how, but she’s been following him for a while now. And based on what we’re seeing…” he gestured to the screen again just as the woman executed a flawless roundhouse kick that sent Clyde staggering back.

“Damn!” someone muttered.

“Holy—did she just—?!” another guard started, but gasped when she followed up with a spin kick that nearly took Clyde’s head off.

Gasps and winces rippled through the room.

“This is better than anything on Netflix,” one of the guards whispered, eyes wide.

Tom crossed his arms, grinning as he watched the feed. “We’re tracking their coordinates now. I’ve got a team rerouting to intercept in case things get out of hand.”

Nahla and Mikail remained frozen in place, watching as the woman pinned Clyde against the wall, shouting something fierce.

“She’s not just after him,” Nahla murmured. “She knows him.”

Mikail nodded slowly. “And she’s very, very angry.”

The entire security room had fallen silent except for the occasional gasp or murmur as the fight continued to unfold.

Tom spoke again, his voice reverent. “Whoever she is—she just might be our best chance of bringing Clyde down.”

Mikail reached for Nahla’s hand again, his grip firm. “Let’s make sure she doesn’t have to do it alone.”

The guy dropped hard, crumpling to his knees with a grunt. The camera caught everything—the sharp wince of pain, the stunned expression—and then, bizarrely, the man’s hand went to his backside.

“Is he grabbing his butt ?” one of the guards asked incredulously.

Tom leaned in, squinting. “Yep. Pretty sure those kicks landed in the gut, but I guess the wound from the stray arrow hasn’t healed very well.”

“Do we know who the woman is?” Nahla asked, eyes wide with curiosity, squinting at the pink streaks in her hair.

“Not a clue,” Tom replied, shaking his head slowly, “but damn—she’s good.”

On screen, the woman was still shouting at Clyde, who was now wobbling as he tried to push to his feet. Nahla leaned forward—and gasped. “He’s got a gun!”

Sure enough, Clyde had pulled a pistol from the waistband of his pants. But before he could even raise it, the woman lashed out with lightning speed, kicking the weapon clean out of his hand. It clattered across the pavement and disappeared from view.

“She’s so badass ,” Nahla whispered, awestruck. “I want to learn how to do that!”

Mikail groaned softly, remembering the disaster her last scone attempt had caused. If her fighting turned out anything like her baking…or her archery…!

He didn’t say it aloud. Instead, he slid his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring, “Let’s take it one skill at a time.”

But his eyes remained on the screen, darkening. “She’s going to kill him, Tom.”

Tom shook his head, arms crossed. “Doubt it. My team’s about sixty seconds away. They’ll handle it.” Then he added, more thoughtfully, “Moves like that…those are personal. Whatever her reason, I’d say she’s doing the world a favor. I’m more inclined to shake her hand than book her for assault.”

Just as he said it, Clyde made another desperate move to stand—and the woman dropped him again with a swift, merciless kick between the legs. He hit the ground with a choked cry, curling onto his side.

“Oof,” someone muttered from the back of the room. Another guard whispered, “She’s not pulling punches.”

A military vehicle roared onto the scene in a cloud of dust, coming to a fast stop. Two guards jumped out, weapons raised and trained on Clyde. The woman immediately raised her hands and stepped back, her body still radiating fury, but she didn’t resist.

The audio feed cut in as one of the guards approached her, asking something quietly.

“That man killed my husband,” she said, her voice raw and shaking. “I have all the proof you need.” And then, abruptly, she collapsed against the guard’s chest, sobbing as if the fight had finally drained out of her.

Inside the palace security office, everyone was silent. The guard looked directly into the camera, silently awaiting instruction.

Tom cleared his throat. “Bring her back to the palace station,” he instructed into the mic. “We’ll meet you there in two hours.”

He turned to Mikail with a rare, relieved smile. “We’re done, Your Highness. Clyde has been captured.”

Mikail’s gaze shifted to Nahla. The weight of the moment settled between them. Clyde was gone. The threat was over. She didn’t need his protection anymore.

She could go home.

But then she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. “Two months,” she whispered, voice fierce with joy.

He blinked. “Two months?”

“I want to marry you in two months,” she said, rising on her toes, her hands cradling his jaw. “No delays. No more waiting.”

A slow, crooked grin spread across his face as he leaned down and kissed her. “I think that can be arranged.”