Ian handed up his SIG, but didn’t bother to mention the knives he had on his body or the small pistol he’d hidden in his boot. He wasn’t going to give up everything.

Sean handed his primary weapon up as well, but then his brother was deadly with knives and he had them all over his person.

“Let the woman come up now,” the guard said.

He shook his head. He couldn’t let Charlie up until he was sure he would be on that boat with her. No way. No how. “I come up first.”

The big guy frowned down at him. “I said hand up the female.”

“Stand down, Kaj.” A softer voice called out. “He’s protecting his lady. It’s a good thing. It makes me believe he’s here for the reasons he’s stated. I’ve found spies don’t tend to care much about their partners. Come. Come.”

The king of Loa Mali pushed his way to the front of the small crowd. There was no way to mistake him. He dominated the other men, though he kept his voice quiet. That man was a Dom and a confident one. He might not be trained, might not even really know what he was, but Ian did. He met Ian’s eyes and a long look passed between them.

“She will be safe. You have safe passage. Please come on board. I wish to hear why the Americans and Brits are so interested in me.”

Ian stepped forward first, allowing himself to be pulled on board. He immediately turned and put his hand down for his wife, hauling her up and back into his arms. He stepped back, keeping her close as Sean climbed on board.

Charlie remained behind him, her hands clasping his waist, letting him know she was there.

King Kash Kamdar stepped toward him. He was a large man, roughly six foot four with a well-defined body and a face that most women would die for. His skin was a golden caramel and perfectly white teeth shone from his smile. “Welcome, Mr…?”

“Taggart. Ian Taggart.”

“Mr. Taggart, you’ve brought a beautiful woman with you. I don’t suppose that she is for me? Perhaps the Agency has changed their tactics and actually figured out that I respond much better to the fairer sex?”

Ian wasn’t surprised that the king had dealt with the Agency before. They really were nosy busybodies. “She’s my wife. She goes where I go. If you want to understand what’s happening, you have to make sure she never leaves my sight.”

The king reached forward, grasping her hand and bringing it to his lips in a gallant kiss. “Mrs. Taggart, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Your husband is an interesting man. McKay-Taggart is a private security firm, known for its ex-Special Forces employees.”

So Kamdar did have some smart people working for him. “Facial recognition?”

He shrugged. “I leave that to the intelligent men. I find them deeply annoying. They are sarcastic and unruly. I often think I should let the sharks take them, but they provide good service, do you know what I mean?”

He did. Adam was a pain in his ass, but he got the job done. “They also work quickly.”

“Yes, but then I take it seriously when someone shoves a gun in my employee’s back. I knew your name within moments. I merely wanted to see if you would lie to me. You’ll have to forgive me. Taral’s family has worked for mine for many years. I take all my employees’ safety very seriously. It’s why I have them watched when they leave the boat. The world can be a dangerous place. Please follow me. There is a luncheon laid out on the deck. You can see all my pretty ladies.” He held out a hand gesturing them to move toward the stairs that led to the upper deck. “You are his brother? Sean?”

Sean nodded. “Yes. I’m just along to watch my brother’s back, Your Highness. I’m not in the business anymore.”

“You both have exemplary service records,” the king said. “But I suspect Mr. Taggart has spent some time with the Agency. Well, my obnoxious computer guru suspects this. When did the world turn upside down? Now we are all held hostage by the geeks.”

A thin young man with studious glasses frowned at the king and spoke in rapid-fire Hindi, his entire body spouting sarcasm. He switched to English, which he spoke with a near-perfect British accent. “If my king paid as much attention to security as he does female body parts, we would all be much safer. We should run checks on everyone twice a year. We should check their accounts, see where they are going, who they are meeting with.”

The king shook his head. This was obviously a familiar argument. “I am not spying on my employees, Chapal. We have been over this.”

The young man with glasses threw his hands up in the air and walked off, muttering in Hindi again. Yep, it was good to know Adam had a clone on every continent.

The king rolled his eyes. “He is also my cousin. I am not allowed to execute him. My mother would kill me. Sometimes I long for the old days when a man had his harem and absolute power.”

Unfortunately, Ian was going to have to go with Chapal on this one. The king was being naïve.

Ian reached the upper deck and took a quick inventory. The damn boat was bigger than his house. The king steered them toward the aft of the ship where there was a large outdoor living space complete with couches and chaise lounges. There was a huge buffet to the side that looked to have been recently laid out. Fruit and vibrant greens were on display along with the lovely smell of a curry.

Three beautiful women lay out on the deck, sunning themselves. They all giggled as the king walked by. Two of them weren’t wearing anything but bikini bottoms. The third was a gorgeous Asian woman wearing a sleek one piece, her pitch black hair in a bun. He caught a glimpse of her face, but turned before she could see his.

Damn. He hoped his wife was still all about forgiveness for his past transgressions. He kind of hoped he didn’t have to play that card.

The king gestured them to sit as the yacht began moving again. The boat was so big, Ian barely felt the movement. A tuxedoed servant brought four crystal glasses and a bottle of what appeared to be dark liquor.

“Is that what I think it is?” Sean asked, a little smile on his face.

The king poured liquor into the glasses. “Old Monk. The best rum in the world.” He took a long sniff. “It’s made in India. They do not advertise. I’m surprised you know it. You must have traveled extensively.”

Sean waited until the king had taken a long drink before sampling. Ian was glad his brother wasn’t completely out of practice. “I have a couple of line cooks I work with. They bring bottles back with them when they go home. We can’t get this in Texas.”

Ian took a sip, the rich, almost vanilla-like flavor coating his tongue. But he wasn’t here to drink. “So do you know that you’re being targeted by an ex-CIA agent who I believe now works freelance for various employers?”

The king sat back, his face not showing a moment’s surprise. “Mr. Taggart, I am the king of a small country almost no one knows about. We’re one of the smallest countries in the world.”

“With very important resources,” Charlie pointed out.

“But limited compared to others,” the king argued. “There is no reason to target me. Yes, we have oil, but if you added up the barrels we produce, it’s a drop in the bucket. We have moved to biodiesel on our island. The oil is a nice income, but nothing anyone would fight a war over. Most of our income now comes from tourism. Do you honestly see anyone invading the Arabian Sea equivalent of Hawaii?”

Yes, he could see that plainly. All he would need was one sub, three black ops teams, and a nice quantity of C-4. After he took over the country’s communications systems, the airports, and its central city, he could easily install himself as the new king of Loa Mali. Luckily, he didn’t want a crown. “I think you’re not giving men enough credit or maybe your view of wealth is skewed. The hundreds of millions your oil brings in is certainly enough to start a couple of wars.”

The king waved him off. “Bah, I play the game. I deal with OPEC and the US. They have no reason to come after me. You sound very much like my mother. She keeps begging me to settle down and start producing heirs so the line is secure, but I have a very fine nephew who can take over if they get to me.”

“I don’t think this is about a political coup.”

The king toyed with his glass, his fingers running around the rim. “The Agency would love for me to do something that might bring down the wrath of the democratic world on me, wouldn’t they? Fine. Perhaps they do want my oil. So does India. You have to know they would love to swallow up my little island. So much drama over a resource that will be gone in a hundred years. Perhaps less.”

“You’re worried about peak oil?” It was a term the media and economists used to describe the tipping point, when the world’s supply of oil was consumed to past the fifty percent mark. It was argued that the planet was already there.

The king leaned forward, his face turning serious. “Everyone should be worried about it. The world is run by companies now. If I were, say, to prove to be a horrible dictator, do you know who would be the first in line to petition your government to protect my people from human rights violations? The oil companies. They are likely more dangerous to me than any government.”

The special interest groups didn’t care about the citizens of Loa Mali. They cared that the oil industry was nationalized there. But at least now he and the king were on the same page. “I believe this man is possibly working for an oil company. Can you think of any reason why he would be targeting you if killing you wouldn’t change the state of politics in your country?"

“I have several projects going,” the king admitted. “But I think you’re being overly pessimistic, Mr. Taggart. There is nothing out of the ordinary. If someone is watching me, that is normal. It’s nothing my security team can’t handle.”