Page 26 of The Geek and the Sheikh

Junebug and Midnight had spent the last several years making the hidden vault into their personal castle. Junie had spent hours laying intricate tiles into mosaic masterpieces. The work helped her focus, provided an outlet for her creative side, and gave her a purpose. The bank of computer screens had given her access to the world outside without having to actually be a part of it.

Now, she wasn’t sure what to do. Her first true day away and she had already blown her cover and was being chased and there had been guns and speeding cars and she totally had a meltdown once already and it had only been chance that she even got out of the airport because she couldn't take ten steps without gettinglost. She lifted the towel and wiped the tears from her face.

“What’s worse is I miss my slippers,” she whispered to the empty room.

She stiffened when the front doorbell rang at the same time as her phone pinged.

Lifting the phone to read the message, a choked cross between a sob and a giggle slipped from her. She tossed the towel down onto the counter and sprinted barefoot to her bedroom door.

Ripping open the door, she bounded down the beautiful curved staircase, her speed quickly closing the gap between herself and James who was approaching the door with a gun in his hand. Jameel stood nearby holding a pistol from Idella’s stash. Both men turned to warn her.

“I got it! I got it! It’s for me!” she breathlessly announced, jumping the last two steps. She impatiently pushed between the two men.

Jameel moved to restrain her, but she danced out of his reach, twirled beneath James's arm, and grabbed the doorknob as the doorbell rang again.

“Hi. This is for me,” she cheerfully greeted.

The elderly man on the front step chuckled and held out an elegantly wrapped package. Junebug grabbed the package, hugged it to her chest, and turned away. The man bowed to the two wary and shocked men behind her.

“Can you tip him?” she asked, speed walking toward the staircase, her steps as light as air.

“That won’t be necessary. Mistress Idella has already been very generous,” the elderly delivery man assured her.

“This will make everything better. Thank you!” she called over her shoulder as she ran up the staircase, leaving three very bemused men staring after her.

Seven

Jameel paused outside of Bugs' bedroom door. He and James had interrogated the old delivery man after Bugs had danced back up the staircase as if she didn’t have a care in the world. It was only the old man’s comment about Idella having already compensated him for the delivery that had given him and James a measure of relief.

Still, they had asked the man a series of questions which the old man had pleasantly responded to without hesitation. After the old man left, he and James had discussed their security measures for the night. Once they were through, Jameel had left James to familiarize himself with the downstairs area while he made his way upstairs to check on Bugs.

The old man had refused to impart what he had brought for Bugs. The man had stated it was a gift for the young miss and that he was simply the delivery man. He paused outside of her bedroom door before lifting his hand and knocking on the door.

“Come on in.”

Jameel frowned.Come on in? Just… come on in? She doesn’t even know who is at the door and she says come on in?

He twisted the doorknob and pushed open the door. The exasperated word of caution on the tip of his tongue died when he caught sight of her position in the middle of the room. She was standing bent over at the waist so the only thing he could see was the movement of her slender arms and a lot of blonde hair.

“Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five…”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m brushing my hair,” she replied.

She tilted her head towards him when she spoke but didn’t straighten. She reminded him of that character from the television show he used to watch as a kid. The one all covered in hair.

Cousin It.

The name came to him as she continued counting until she reached forty. He grinned at the thought.

“You know you look like….”

The rest of what he was saying died on his lips when she straightened. He swallowed, feeling his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down as he did. There was absolutely, positively nothing about her that was remotely like Cousin It.

“What do I look like?” she asked, staring at him with a wary expression.

“You are….”

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