Around the World in 80 Men Boxed Set 31-35 (33 page)

“We're safe, mate.” John sat down between Bonnie and
Salazar as the back gate closed, and put them in near total
darkness.
“Aye.” Finlay smiled to himself. Next stop,
he assumed he would finally see Morgan.

*****

“
Casablanca
beer...who knew?” Morgan was on her third beer when she took a
picture of her half empty bottle. “It even has little palm
trees on it!” Mustafa nodded and agreed, it certainly did have
palm trees on the label.

“
If
I would have known that a beer label would make you this happy, I
would have packed a few for camp.” Morgan laughed and the smile
on her dirty sand-crusted face made Mustafa make a mental note to
have the beer stocked in coolers for the rest of their stay. He also
smiled at the obnoxious sound that came from Morgan's stomach, then
his joined the party. “I guess we better eat.”
If only
I could have met a girl like you.....before.

Chapter
Six

“
She
isn't here! Take me to Morgan, mate. Right fookin' now!” Finlay
had looked through the large tent that was set up for the tourist
group that he clearly wasn't a part of. He didn't understand why they
were taken there, and he couldn't get anyone to understand a word he
was saying. “Morgan. Blonde. Pretty. Take me to her.”
Finlay pointed to his mouth as he spoke, expecting the men to read
his lips in lieu of hearing a language they didn't understand. John
stepped between Finlay and one of the men, hoping to keep Fin from
using a more physical form of communication.

“
Okay,
let's calm down. She isn't here, and none of them speak english. How
about we just wait out the storm and get back to the trail tomorrow.”
It wasn't a question, and Finlay spun around to face John.

“
One,
yer goin' te tell me how ye know her. Two, ye'll tell me why yer
following her. Three, no man tells me what....how...when...or where
unless I ask. Clear.....mate?” John took a step back when
Finlay's face moved closer. The Scot had officially had enough, and
John knew it. His arms raised in a friendly surrender.

“
Okay..okay.
We'll do it your way. I was just trying to help. And, I'll give you
information if you agree to tell me a few things. Finlay's hand moved
so fast that John didn't even see what happened before large fingers
were around his throat.

“
I
wasna making a deal! How do ye know her and why are ye here?!”
Four men ran to Finlay's side and pulled his arm away from John. It
took all of them to hold Finlay long enough for John to step away.

“
Fine!
Where's my fucking whiskey?” John dug in his bag in desperate
need of a drink, and rubbed the pain from his neck. Finlay took a
deep breath and shook the men from his arm. Finally, he was getting
somewhere, and would score another drink in the process.

“
Aye.”
I shoulda put muh hands around yer throat to begin with.

*****

“
Little
pies!” Morgan looked down at her Bisteeya and grabbed it with
her hand. She smiled at how that would be considered rude back home,
but in Morocco, it was rude not to. “I wonder what Julianne
would do?” Morgan giggled as she pictured her boss pulling a
small travel case of utensils from her bag, and sitting at the edge
of her cushion to keep her legs folded at just the right lady like
angle. Mustafa didn't ask who Julianne was, he found that he learned
more by just listening.

Morgan
took a bite of the hot phyllo baked square, and her eyes closed in
bliss at the full flavor behind the small treat.
“Chicken....cinnamon....sugar.....ginger... and...what else is
in here?” she took another bite, trying to identify every last
ingredient in her meal.

“
Almonds,
onions and butter. You're good at this.” He loved her
curiosity, and he pushed another square in her direction. “Maybe
you'll make this someday and tell me how it turned out.” Morgan
laughed, knowing that she could never make something so complicated,
but she still appreciated his confidence in her. Mustafa's smile
faded at the realization that he would never be able to speak to his
new friend in the future.

“
Uh,
thanks for mistaking me for someone who can cook.” Mustafa
laughed and Morgan spoke as she took another bite. “But I plan
to order this in the next restaurant that offers it. What's it called
again?” Mustafa told her, and ordered them another beer. “And
this, wow...this is the best beer I've ever had.” That, Mustafa
knew, wasn't true. But, after six of them, he assumed Morgan was
greatly enjoying them.

“
I'm
afraid we're going to be pretty drunk before the storm passes.”
Morgan agreed with him as she took another sip.

“
Good,”
Morgan wiped more sand from her cheek with the back of her hand,
“maybe you'll be drunk enough for me to take advantage of you.”
Mustafa laughed loudly as his hand covered his face. He never thought
a woman could embarrass him, but Morgan's skills were a strange
combination of raw and refined...and he never knew what to expect
from her.

“
Well,
beautiful lady, you wouldn't have to get me drunk to get....”

“
Sex?
Good. Dinner,” she toasted her phyllo square to his, “drinks,”
her beer was raised before she took another sip, “then we're
going to sex the hell out of each other.” Mustafa laughed, and
his body instantly began to look forward to the night ahead of them.

*****

While
Morgan and Mustafa stayed warm with shelter and beer, Finlay and John
were warming themselves with liquor and testosterone.

John
took a long sip from his flask and begrudgingly shoved the metal
container in Finlay's direction. He didn't want to share anymore, but
it was clear he didn't have a choice. Finlay twisted the lid off the
top and John took the opportunity to pull his cell phone out of his
bag. He knew they were on the edge of town, but his hope for any kind
of signal was quickly diminished. “Fuck.” Sean was going
to be pissed when he found out Finlay was along for the ride, but at
the moment, he was more intimated by Fin, and decided it was best to
spill everything.

“
Sit.”
Finlay was already doing do, and pointed at a small crate across from
him. After a moment of hesitation, John sat. “Explain.”
Finlay took another drink, and passed the flask back to John.

John
thought to lie, to save his ass from Sean, and to get Finlay off his
back, but there was no way around it. He took a deep breath and spoke
slowly. “Being that you're...close...to Morgan, I'm sure you
know she...” John stared down at his whiskey, and swallowed
hard. He wasn't quite sure where to start.

“
She
what?” John saw Finlay's fingers twitch at his words, and
leaned back just in case Finlay lunged.

“
You
know she was...attacked.” That time, John watched Finlay's
fingers not only twitch, but curl into a tight fist on his lap. To
his surprise, Finlay nodded slowly.

“
Aye.
How do ye fookin' know aboot that? How do ye know her? Why are ye
here?” Finlay spoke loudly, and got the attention of the men in
the tent once more, but John put his hand up, letting them know they
didn't need to get involved.

“
If
you'd let me explain!” John took another drink and shook his
head.
How does she put up with you?
Finlay adjusted in his
seat and John flinched. It was subtle, but Finlay noticed and forced
himself not to smile at the power he had. “I was hired to
follow her. To make sure she is safe. I followed her to Australia,
then New Guinea, then to Scotland...where she was supposed to meet
you.” John let out a long sigh, knowing exactly what the next
question would be and Finlay didn't disappoint.

“
Who
hired you?” There was only a small handful of people who knew
about the incident. Anthony? Julianne? John shook his head back and
forth. “I will not ask you again.”

John
took another deep breath. “This wasn't supposed to happen. We
didn't know you would be coming to fucking Morocco to stalk her.”
Finlay stood, his hands still clenched tightly at his sides and John
put his hands up defensively. “Sean! Sean hired me!”

Finlay
sat back down quickly. “Sean?” He had never mentioned a
word to Finlay about hiring a protector for Morgan. That meant,
either John was really good at lying and doing his research, or his
best friend was keeping secrets from him. He was going to narrow down
the options, right then and there. “Prove it. Prove he hired
ye.”

*****

“
No!
No more!” Morgan giggled and pushed the full beer away from
her, then quickly decided against it and brought it back in front of
her. “Okay, one more! And that's it!” She brought it to
her lips and took three big gulps.

“
Looks
like the storm has passed, so this should be our last one anyway.”
Mustafa opened his palm tree beer and finished half of it in one go.
Morgan reached out and grabbed one of his dread locks and giggled
again.

“
Then...sexy
time!” Her words were louder than she had meant them to be, and
when all eyes went to her, she laughed harder. “Yes, everyone!
We're going to have lots and lots of....”

Mustafa
put his hand in front of Morgan's mouth to shut her up and smiled at
the crowd who had been awaiting Morgan's next words. “Not here,
beautiful.” She brought her brows together in confusion and
muffled some words into his palm. “Don't speak.” He
smiled as he lowered his hand back to the table. “This is not
the place you go yelling about sex.” His voice was quiet, but
still held humor.

Morgan
looked around the room and nodded. Just like their culture finds it
acceptable to eat food with their hands, their culture was not one to
very openly speak about intimacy. “I understand. Man, Angel
could never come here.” She took another drink of her beer and
set it down as a thought came to her. “Do you want to see him?”
Mustafa laughed and nodded.

“
Of
course.” Morgan brought out her phone and then to her picture
gallery.

“
Oh,
this was when I first met him. He lives in Rio de Janiero.” She
was about to show Mustafa when he spoke up.

“
Was
he a...uhm...client of yours?” Morgan laughed loudly and shook
her head back and forth, and showed Mustafa one of the first pictures
she ever took of Angel. “Oh!” Angel stood with one his
hand on his hip and the other holding a glass of Moscato. His curls
looks absolutely perfect, as always, and his smile was brighter than
the moon on a winter night. He was wearing a tight white v-neck tee
and a pair of jeans, but even in a simple outfit, it was very easy to
assume he was never a client of Morgan's.

“
Yep.
That's him.” Morgan giggled again and scrolled to the next
picture, which had been taken a few hours after the first. “This
was later that night.” Angel was jokingly wearing one of
Morgan's bras and Gio's favorite pair of silk boxers. Morgan laughed
as she recalled the memory...he'd been mad at
GiGi
for telling
him his boxers hadn't been folded properly. She moved through two
dozen pictures and explained them before Mustafa spoke again.

“
I've
never had a friend like that. You're both very lucky to have each
other, Morgan. I can see the light in your eyes when you talk about
him.” Mustafa tucked a piece of hair behind Morgan's ear and
drank the last of his beer.

“
I
am lucky. He's the best!”
Now, can we go so I can ride the
great tiger, Mufasa?
She finished her beer between giggles, and
set it down on the table next to his. “Are you ready to go?”

Mustafa
smiled slowly and nodded, then turned to the direction of the two men
who had brought them there. He gave another nod, letting them know
they were ready to go and Morgan watched the men walk out of the
cafe. “Shall we?” He took Morgan's hand and led her to
the Jeep, then climbed in behind her.

Twenty
minutes later, they arrived at camp. It hadn't been set up like
usual, because of the storm, but at least they didn't have to worry
about cooking dinner. After only ten minutes, the two men had their
beds laid out and their gear brought inside. Bonnie and Clyde were
already there, and Morgan could hear them eating outside the tent and
giggled again.