Protecting His Princess by C. J. Miller Page B

doing their best to make a difference. To make things better or to right a wrong.” His gaze pierced her.
    He was talking about her. She didn’t want him building her up as a hero. Her personal motivations weren’t entirely selfless. “I didn’t do this for some greater good. I did it to protect my family and my country, and give myself the chance to have the life I’ve longed for.”
    Harris took a few steps away. She followed. “I don’t believe that. You wanted to look out for your family, but after I told you the circumstances, you would have helped us anyway. You’ve never mentioned your desire to seek revenge against the people who tried to kill you with a car bomb. Your motives aren’t centered on your personal agenda or need for vengeance. Your new life and whatever you choose to do with it are a bonus.”
    Would she have done this without the promise of a safe harbor for her and her family from the inevitable fallout of Mikhail’s involvement with a terrorist? Did the car bomb have anything to do with her decision? Ahmad Al-Adel was a cruel and evil man. She wanted him stopped. If she had done nothing, and Al-Adel or his network of terrorists had hurt someone else, she would have had a difficult time with that. Guilt would have swamped her, and she’d feel responsible for the consequences of her inaction. “Maybe I’ve spent too much time in America, but doing nothing can be as bad as doing evil.”
    “All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing,” Harris said. “I remember hearing my dad speak that quote to my brothers and me.”
    Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. One of the housekeepers was leaving by the service door. “Someone’s leaving! Let’s try the door now.” Harris might have been able to pick the lock, but this was easier.
    They moved toward the service door, catching it before it slammed shut. Laila and Harris slipped inside. Her eyes adjusted to the change in light, the darkness of the interior space confining. She could hear washing machines and dryers running. With the extra guests staying in the compound, Laila would bet the machines were seeing much more use. Had Mikhail changed his staff’s hours or increased the number of housekeepers working during his wedding? Would anyone be in his private quarters or were most assigned to the guest suites?
    Mikhail had changed many things about the compound. Was she overestimating her ability to guide Harris?
    Laila reassured herself. Mikhail didn’t allow video or audio surveillance in his private quarters. They’d just need to watch out for Mikhail’s staff.
    Laila crept to the closet on the right and opened it. She held up her index finger for Harris to wait. Going inside the closet, she removed her dark head scarf and tied it around her waist. She took one of the housekeeper dresses from a hanger and slipped it over her own. She wrapped the tan-colored head scarf that matched the housekeeper’s dress over her head.
    In the closet were a few other outfits. The largest was a gardener outfit complete with hat to protect the head and neck from the sun. She grabbed it.
    When she stepped out of the closet, she didn’t see Harris. Where had he gone?
    He appeared around a corner. “I thought it was better if I didn’t wait in plain sight,” he whispered.
    “Good idea.”
    “That’s a good look for you,” he said.
    She rolled her eyes. The housekeeper uniform was meant to differentiate the staff from guests and the clothes were stain proof, the fabric easy to wash, coarse and unappealing. The high neck and length of the uniform covered her dress.
    She handed Harris the gardener’s outfit. “Not feminine and it should fit.” Harris quickly tugged it on over his clothes.
    “It will be difficult to explain why a gardener is inside,” Harris said.
    “Maybe you can say you came inside for extra tools or towels.” She shrugged. “It was the largest masculine outfit in the