It was almost comically overdecorated, but the ceiling mirror above the bed curtailed any amusement. Behind her, the voices were coming closer, speaking a language she couldn’t understand. She dove for what she hoped was the closet.

It turned out to be little more than a shallow niche holding racks of shoes. She squeezed into the tiny space between the racks and the door. The darkness was thick and claustrophobic, smelling too strongly of musk, leather, and something overly sweet.

The voices were in the bedroom now. The edges of the shelves dug into her spine. If they opened the shoe closet door, they’d see her right away, and if that happened, she could very well end up dead in the ocean.

Coop would be beyond pissed.

***

Coop waved away the cigar Aamuzhir offered. Where the hell was Piper? Not in the gym, that was for damned sure. Her workouts mainly consisted of some halfhearted push-ups and a couple of laps around the block.

This trip had been a colossal waste of time. Aamuzhir had actually bragged to him about the good deal he’d made trading an insignificant servant girl for the championship ring. Whatever other sleazy things Aamuzhir had done, he wasn’t the one after Coop.

The prince pulled a cigar from the jeweled box on the table and pointed it directly at the three women by the pool, as if they were inanimate objects. “Feel free to enjoy yourself, my friend. They’re not as young as you might wish, but they’re very pliable.”

Coop had to steady himself. Those girls barely looked eighteen. But as satisfying as it would be to beat the crap out of this degenerate, he needed to wipe him from his life forever or Pipe would never get off his back about that ring. “Afraid my days of horn-doggin’ it are over,” he said. “I’m about to be a married man.”

“You Americans,” Aamuzhir said with lofty amusement. “So provincial.”

“You sound like my buddy Pete. Nothing could ever make that guy settle down. He doesn’t think anybody else should, either.”

“That’s not an option for most of us,” the prince said on a thin trail of cigar smoke.

Coop felt pity for Aamuzhir’s wives. “Yeah, Pete’s a real character. I guess you could technically say he’s a mercenary.”

“Mercenary?” That piqued the prince’s interest.

“He’s fought in Africa, the Middle East. Who knows where else? He has a real talent for explosives. The bigger the target, the better.” He leaned closer. “Do you know, he once blew a boat about this size straight out of the Gulf of Aden?” He forced a chuckle. “That’s the kind of guy who’s a good friend to have on your side. If anybody ever tried to screw me over, Pete would take care of them long before I could. Dude’s crazy, but you gotta love his loyalty.”