Page 28 of The Geek and the Sheikh

She sniffled, tilted her head, and frowned up at him. “It’s still early.”

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was—technically. It was an early part oftomorrow. Most people would consider it the middle of the night. He calculated what time it would be in New York and realized her body wasn’t feeling the time difference yet.

“I guess it is for you,” he agreed.

“You can lie down if you want. I don’t mind. I wanted to see what I could find on your friend,” she said.

Jameel scowled. “Wells is no longer my friend. I can’t believe I was so blindagain,” he muttered.

“Yeah, join the club, I suppose. Maybe Wells had an affair with RC… if they aren’t the same person. I know you had an affair with her too, but maybe their affair was more recent,” she replied, pulling out of his arms.

“I didnothave an affair with her!” Jameel denied.

“Oh. Okay. She made it seem like she knew you intimately so I assumed based on all your other relationships that you and she had… you know,” she said with a shrug.

“She wasn't anything like my other relationships,” he muttered.

“Okay. If you say so,” she said.

Jameel gritted his teeth. He didn’t think of the one night he and Allison had as anaffair.They had more of a fleeting fly-by that was started by an acute case of food poisoning. It was just another bitter memory now. Allison had taken care of him the whole night. It had been sweet, and things went a little too far the next day when he was feeling better.

He couldn't believe he had ever believed Allison was sweet. Grumbling under his breath, he snatched the bag of chocolate filled marshmallows off of the nightstand and piled several pillows against the headboard. Then he fell with a satisfied grunt onto the bed.

“Shoes,” she absently reminded him.

He kicked off his shoes, settled back against the pillows, and watched her as she became absorbed in her computer screen. After the first bite, he decided the chocolate filled marshmallows were better than the plain chocolate ones. He absently munched on more of them as he studied her, and as different programs flashed across the screen, he couldn’t help but admire her brilliance.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Damage control at the moment. Making sure my facial recognition software is uploaded to all the security cameras from the airport to the hotel and in the hotel. Once it recognizes my face, the AI will change it to look like Greta Garbo. That should take care of Allison finding me, but now that you are in the equation, I need to add your face. If she finds you, she finds me. Who do you want to be, by the way? Do you want to go modern or classic? Dead or alive? Or not a real person? We also were in an i7. Modern cars are full of electronics that talk to servers. EV cars more so, and you had to have one of the top-of-the-line two hundred grand models. Like that isn’t going to stick out like a sore thumb!” She raised a hand and waved it in the air. “Anyway, one of the first things I need to do is connect with the BMW server and make sure that all traces of the car are erased… or maybe I should put it in Scotland. I’ll have to think about that. No, I’ll just erase it. I’ll have to remember when this is all over to put it back in, otherwise it won’t get the updates. That could be a bad thing.”

Jameel listened with a bemused expression as he continued to pop the marshmallows into his mouth. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was and the damn things were actually pretty good if you could get past the gooey texture and cavity-inducing sugar content. He answered the questions that she rattled off, like did he know the license plate number—no, he did not.

Did he know who the vehicle is registered to? No, he didn’t know that either.

How did he get to London? By private jet.

He winced when she reminded him how bad private jets were for the climate, telling him the exact ratio of their carbon footprint, and then silently agreed when she conceded that while commercial airlines carried more passengers, he would still be stuck at Lisbon airport waiting for his connecting flight that wouldn’t leave for another four hours, thirty-five minutes, and twelve seconds.

He decided he needed a stiff drink to wash down the marshmallows and looked longingly at the door. He finally gave up and retrieved a glass of water from the bathroom. Bugs was still rattling off the alternative flights that still wouldn’t have gotten him to London in time to save her, though she was perfectly capable of saving herself.

“Are you playing a game while you are hacking the British Motor Vehicle Division?” he inquired, returning to his spot on the bed.

“No. Their server was slower than molasses so I by-passed it and went straight to MI6. They have a connection to the entire country’s camera system. I see Allison is doing the same thing. I’ve already sent her on a red herring to Scotland. She is pissed and trying to reconnect. We are playing who can out-do who at the moment. She’s pretty good. It's kinda nice—in a bad way, you know? She told me she wanted something and I'm gonna have to think about that 'cause does she want me to follow that lead and if she does, do I want to? 'Cause I really want to, and there's a way to find that information and then maybe we'll have more options or maybe we'll be where she wants us to be, so maybe I don't want to, but I really do. What classes did you two take together? Never mind, I've got both of your transcripts. This would be so much easier if I was at home. I have an entire wall of monitors. I can see most of the major players at the same time.”

“What is your real name?” he suddenly asked.

“Junebug Rainbow Rain,” she replied with a shy grin, swiveling back and forth in her chair as her bunny-clad feet tapped out a dance to some unheard musical beat.

“Are you always so… animated?” he asked.

She froze. It was as if his question had suddenly turned her to stone. Her fingers were paused against the keys. Her back was ram-rod straight. The chair was still. Even her fluffy feet were flat against the floor.

“Yes.”

That single word was spoken in an almost inaudible voice, yet it held a mountain of depth. He could almost feel her pain radiating from it. Someone had hurt her—deeply. He remained where he was, watching an icy shield close over her animated face and knew if he didn’t think of some way to break through the ice before it solidified, he might lose her.

“Good. I love it and think you are beautiful. Don’t ever stop,” he replied as if nothing was unusual.

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