“But I would think this good news,” Kyle replied. “A union between Princess Julia and Sheik Rashid surely would end the tensions that have existed between Montebello and Tamir.”
Ambassador Templeton leaned back in his chair. “Unfortunately, Sheik Rashid has disappeared, and since he was last seen in the company of Princess Julia, Sheik Ahmed believes King Marcus had something to do with his son’s disappearance. Sheik Ahmed has let King Marcus know he’s prepared to take by force the land on Montebello that would have gone to Prince Lucas.”
Kyle frowned thoughtfully. If the nearby kingdom of Tamir waged battle against Montebello, the fragile peace of the entire Middle East would be shattered.
Once again Ambassador Templeton leaned forward, his dark gaze intense. “Officially, you are here as you were before, to protect American oil interests. Unofficially, you and your team of top gun pilots will be patroling the air space between Montebello and Tamir. You will be on a state of high alert, anticipating a potential air strike and invasion from Tamir. You will report to only three people—King Marcus himself, me or any of the Noble Men who might contact you.”
“The Noble Men?” Kyle looked at him in bewilderment.
“They are the ones who brought you here. They are the ones funding the entire mission of protection for King Marcus and Montebello.”
“I don’t understand. Who are these Noble Men?” Kyle felt as if the ambassador had suddenly begun to speak a foreign language.
“I’m only telling you this because King Marcus and the Noble Men agreed you should be told.” He stared out the window for a long moment, where the sky was an intense, almost surreal blue. “But first I must have your word that you will keep what I tell you in total confidence.”
“Of course I give you my word,” Kyle said instantly, his curiosity aroused to a fever pitch.
“Nobody knows exactly who they are, and very few people know of their existence.” Templeton looked back at Kyle. “What we do know is that they are a covert organization of wealthy, powerful men.” His voice was filled with admiration and respect. “They are peacekeepers and protectors who save lives and restore order, often financing and planning rescue missions in situations where government hands are tied.”
Kyle’s head reeled with the information he’d just been handed. A covert organization, men wielding power and influence for world peace… It sounded like something from an action-adventure movie, and yet he had no reason to doubt what the ambassador had shared with him.
“You said that these Noble Men were the ones who brought me here. Why me?”
For the first time since the ambassador had greeted Kyle, he smiled. “I can’t know for sure, and I wouldn’t begin to question the choices the Noble Men make, but I would imagine it’s because you are one of the best pilots that the United States Navy has to offer.”
His smile faded. “You must understand that, officially, the United States military is not involved in this operation. Unofficially, they will allow you to use their planes and their equipment, and will provide ground support. I’m placing one of my top military attachés in charge of the ground support unit. She will be available to you day and night, whatever it takes to make this mission a success. Her name is Joanna Morgan.”
The ambassador looked down at his wristwatch. “I had hoped she would join us here, but apparently she’s been held up. We’d like to get twenty-four-hour patrols started as soon as possible.”
He stood and Kyle did the same. “You will be staying in your family apartment?”
Kyle hesitated only a moment, then nodded. He’d have preferred to stay on the base, but apparently that wasn’t where the ambassador wanted him.
“Good, then if you’ll just have a seat in the reception area, I’m sure Joanna will be here momentarily. She can drive you to your apartment and you two can begin strategizing your mission.”
He walked around the desk and once again held out his hand to Kyle. “Thank you, Lieutenant Commander, for being available to serve not only the Noble Men, but the people of Montebello as well.”
“I look forward to getting to work immediately,” Kyle replied. The two men said their goodbyes and Kyle left the office.
“May I get you a cup of coffee while you wait?” the secretary asked with a friendly smile.
“No thanks, I’m fine.” Kyle sat in one of the dark blue, upholstered chairs, wondering how long he’d have to wait for this Joanna Morgan to show.
Now that he knew exactly what his mission here would be, he was eager to get started. His mind replayed all that Nigel Templeton had told him.
Two grieving fathers—a king and a sheik—both pointing fingers at the other. If war broke out, the consequences would be felt around the world.
The Noble Men. To say that the concept of a secret organization of wealthy, influential men intrigued him would be a vast understatement. Who were they? What had driven them to form such an organization? What made some men become altruistic and idealistic, while others became fat-cat corporate heads, worshipping the almighty dollar?
He shoved away the mental picture of his father that suddenly sprang to his mind. At the moment he had more important things to think about than Edward Ramsey.
He’d given his word that he would not speak of the Noble Men, and his mind worked to figure out just what he could tell his team of flyers and what he couldn’t. They needed to know only their objective, to keep the skies free of threat, and Kyle was confident they would follow his instructions without question.
A woman walked in, swiftly crossing the room to the receptionist desk. Although Kyle saw her only from the back, he couldn’t help but admire the long shapely legs beneath the short navy skirt, the curvy form of her derriere and the shiny dark hair tied back at the nape of her neck.
She spoke to the receptionist, but their voices were too low for him to hear. He wondered if this woman was the one he’d been waiting for—Joanna Morgan.
When she turned around, a shock of recognition ripped through him. “Marie,” he whispered. At the same time his gaze shot to the name on her badge: Joanna M. Morgan.
She gasped, her dark eyes wide. Before he had time to say another word, she raced past him and out into the hallway, as if she’d seen the very devil himself.
Kyle didn’t hesitate. He jumped out of his chair and ran after her.
Joanna Morgan raced down the hallway and ducked into a nearby ladies’ room. She leaned against the door with all her weight, almost afraid he might barge in after her.
It couldn’t be him. She wasn’t supposed to ever see him again!
What was he doing here?
She waited a moment for her breathing to slow, then moved away from the door and stood at one of the three sinks. She stared into the mirror at her reflection. She looked as if she’d just seen a ghost. She had. She’d seen the ghost of passion past.
Kyle Ramsey. It had been him. There was no pretending. Kyle had been sitting in the ambassador’s waiting room.
She
