The Sheik's Mistress

by Brittany Young

  “That’s right.”

  “Then where do you get your ideas of love, adventure and romance for your books?”

  “Let’s just say that I live a very rich fictional life.”

  “What about your real life?”

  Jensen thought for a moment before answering. “I like it. It’s comfortable and safe—and green!” she joked.

  “And do you like being alone?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “You surprise me.”

  “who?”

  “You’re a beautiful woman. I would have thought there would be many men knocking on your door.”

  “As I said, I live in a farmhouse in Wisconsin. My town has all of fifteen hundred people in it. The only men who come knocking on my door are the ones who fix plumbing.”

  Michael laughed out loud.

  “That’s nice,” said Jensen.

  “What is?”

  “Your laugh. That’s the first time I’ve heard it since we met. You should do it more often.”

  “Henry and I used to laugh all of the time.”

  “Everyone laughs when they’re with Henry.”

  “That’s one of the things I liked best about him when we were in college. That and the fact that he was never intimidated by who my father was.”

  “He’s always been like that. I think that’s why he’s such a good journalist. No one particularly impresses him above anyone else. He treats everyone the same way.”

  “Are you intimidated?” asked Michael.

  “By you?”

  “Not by me as a man, but by my position.”

  “How honest should I be?”

  “As honest as you can.”

  “Then I’d have to say that I’m a bit like Henry in that I’m not intimidated by your position. And I’m not usually intimidated by people, but I am a little by you.”

  “Why?”

  Jensen couldn’t help smiling. “How far do you want me to go with this? Keep in mind that I analyze relationships for a living and can go on and on.”

  “We have hours of driving ahead of us.”

  “You asked for it. I’ve always been predisposed to like you because of Henry. But when he disappeared and I thought you weren’t going to help me find him, I didn’t like you. Then I met you and I decided I really didn’t like you at all.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Well, you attacked me!”

  He held up his hand where her teeth marks were still clearly visible. “For your viewing pleasure,” he said.

  “Self-defense.” She took his hand in hers and examined it more closely. “I’m really sorry, Michael. I panic when anything gets put over my face and I was told in a self-defense course that I took that biting was perfectly permissible if we were attacked.”

  “That’s all right. It’s nice to know you can take care of yourself. Besides, it’ll give me something to remember you by years from now when I look at the scar.”

  She put his hand back on the gearshift between them.

  “Go on,” he said.

  Jensen thought about her next words, but decided to say them anyway. “I feel as though I’ve gotten to know you better over the past few days. I’ve had some glimpses, I think, into your soul. You’re a man capable of great love for family and loyalty toward friends. You’re a man of duty and honor, all qualities I admire and find in others, male and female, all too infrequently.” She turned her head to look at him. “Everything about you attracts me, from your character to your blue eyes. If circumstances were different...” She shrugged. “But they aren’t.”

  Michael’s hand tightened on the gearshift.

  “How’s that for analytical honesty?” she asked.

  “Last night when we were talking, you said you could have loved me. Could have. How do you keep feelings for someone in the ‘could have’ range?”

  “Interesting question,” said Jensen. She was trying very hard to keep the emotion out of the conversation. “I don’t know. I’ve never had to deal with that before.”

  “You’ve never been in love?”

  “I don’t think so. Not real love. Have you?”

  “No.”

  “You say that with great certainty.”

  “I’ve been attracted to, fond of, in like of and in lust with women. Not in love.”

  She was thinking about the woman at the palace. “Was your brother in love with the woman he was going to marry?”

  “No,” said Michael softly, “he wasn’t.”

  “How do you feel about her?”

  “I see you’ve been talking to my sister.”

  “You handed me over to her. It was kind of hard not to.”

  He nodded. “Well, I feel sad for her. And I feel sad for me. But neither of us really has a choice in the matter.”

  “What would happen if one of you simply refused to marry the other one?”

  “That would never happen.”

  “Why?”

  “If I refused to marry her, it would dishonor both my father and brother. If she were to refuse to marry me, she would be dishonoring her family and would probably be cast out from them.”

  “Can either of you ever be happy?”

  “Not happy. But perhaps we’ll find some measure of contentment as the years pass.”

  “Will that be enough?”

  Michael turned his head and looked at Jensen for a long moment. “It will have to be, won’t it?”

  “Will you have mistresses?”

  Michael chuckled, a delicious sound from deep within. “You ask the most amazing questions. I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation with you.”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Oddly enough, I don’t. I’ m usually an extremely private person about my thoughts and feelings, but talking to you about them seems quite natural.”

  Jensen smiled at him. “Then I’ll repeat my impertinent question. Will you have mistresses?”

  “I don’t know. I never would have thought so, but that was when I expected to marry a woman I loved. I don’t know how I’ll feel in the years to come, or who I’ll meet.”

  “Did your father have mistresses?”

  “No. Never. Not even after my mother died. He loved her completely. What about you? Will you take lovers?”

  “Not if I’m married. I can’t imagine wanting to if I was truly in love, and I would never marry anyone I didn’t love.”

  “All marriages have rough patches.”

  “I know. But if the basic foundation of the marriage isn’t trust, rough patch or not, then there’s nothing there to begin with.”

  Michael had turned off what little road there had been a long time before. They were truly driving in the desert.

  “How do you know where you’re going?” asked Jensen. “There are no signs, no stores, no landmarks.”

  “There are landmarks. You just don’t see them because they aren’t familiar to you.”

  “For example?”

  “The dune you see about fifteen miles to our left.”

  “A dune is a dune.”

  “That’s not true, Jensen. Some remain essentially unchanged for centuries. Like that one. And there are tracks under the coating of sand we’re riding on.”

  “How can you see them?”

  “They’re faint but they’re there. We’re not the only ones who go to Adjani.”

  “Are you thirsty?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She unbuckled her seat belt and stretched between their seats to pick up a liter bottle of water from the rear. She saw Ali close on their bumper and waved at him.

  No response.

  Back in her seat, she opened the bottle and handed it to Michael. He took a long drink and gave it back to her. She drank some, too, then poured a little into her hand and dabbed it on her face and throat.

  Without his asking, Jensen poured some more onto her fingers and reached over to dab some on Michael’s throat.

  As soon as she touched him, his ha
nd shot up and caught her wrist to pull it away.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in surprise. “I thought you must be hot, too. I was just trying to cool you off a little.”

  He put her hand in her lap. “I am.”

  “What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing, Jensen. It’s me. Just don’t touch me.”

  “I wasn’t thinking.”

  Michael squeezed her hand before freeing it. “It’s s all right. We just need to be careful and think before we act.”

  “I will.”

  He glanced at her. “We’ll get through this, you know.”

  Jensen nodded. “I know.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jensen’s head turned as they passed a deserted car on the side of their track road.

  “That’s why we brought two cars,” Michael said.

  “What happened to the people who were in it?”

  “Either someone came along to help them, or they died in the desert from exposure.”

  “Maybe they had enough water to make it to the next town,” said Jensen hopefully.

  “This road leads only to Adjani.”

  The farther they went, the more deserted cars they saw, peopling the desert like mechanical ghosts.

  “How does a place like Adjani come into being?”

  “It’s existed for more than a thousand years. It’s a place for outlaws, like some towns in your West were a hundred years ago.”

  “Can’t it be cleaned up?”

  “It’s been tried.”

  “Can’t you occupy it with troops?”

  “Adjani isn’t part of my country or I’m sure my father would have taken care of it a long time ago.”

  “I’m embarrassed. I should have looked at a map before venturing out here.”

  “Understand, Jensen, that I have to be circumspect in looking for Henry in Adjani. I sent a few men there unofficially. I’ve made no official inquiry because I don’t trust the government there to tell me the truth, and I don’t want to alert them to Henry’s presence in any way if he’s there and in disguise or hiding. They don’t like journalists. It’s to their benefit to keep the things that happen in Adjani as quiet as possible.”

  She nodded. “I hope he’s there. I don’t know where I’ll look next if he’s not.”

  “You’ll go back to America and let me look.”

  “I don’t go home unless Henry goes with me.” Michael smiled.

  “What?”

  “He said you were always trying to mother him, even though he was six years older than you.”

  “Henry needed mothering and still does.” Her eyes moved over his profile. “You don’t though. In fact, I bet you took care of Henry when you were in school, getting him out of scrapes, making sure he got his work done.”

  “Henry was a hell-raiser back then. He still is.”

  “And you weren’t.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I tended to be more of a nonjudgmental watcher than a participant. That’s why we got along so well.”

  “I wish I’d known you. Why didn’t you ever come home with Henry for vacations?”

  “I had other obligations. My time wasn’t my own during holidays.”

  “Of course.”

  He suddenly downshifted and stopped the car. “Time to gas up,” he said. “You have a few minutes to stretch your legs.”

  While she walked around, Michael unloaded some five-gallon containers of diesel fuel and poured them into the tank. Ali did the same thing.

  Jensen lifted her robe a little and swirled it around to create some air movement. “How long before we arrive in Adjani?”

  “Two hours,” said Michael. “Perhaps a little less.”

  He finished pouring the fuel and loaded the containers back into the car.

  Jensen started practicing her walk again.

  Michael watched with a slight smile curving his lips. “Hit the ground harder with your feet. You’re moving too delicately.”

  She walked back and forth.

  “Longer strides,” he told her.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, “I’m definitely feeling more guylike.”

  Ali watched her for a moment, then looked at Michael with an expression that would have included rolling eyes, if Ali were the kind of man to do something like that. It was the first really human emotion Jensen had seen cross his face.

  She strolled over to them. “Making fun of me isn’t going to help.”

  “We’re not making fun,” said Michael, trying desperately not to smile. “Your walk is better than it was. But this face,” he said, reaching out and touching her smooth cheek, “isn’t going to fool anyone, even with darkened skin.”

  “Perhaps a false beard?” she suggested.

  “I just happen to have one in the glove compartment,” said Michael dryly.

  Ali said something in Arabic.

  Michael nodded his head and leaned into his car in search of something. He came back out, triumphant, a pair of men’s sunglasses in his hand. “These were my brother’s,” he said as he slipped them on her nose. “Now put on your headdress.”

  She reached in and took it from the back seat, but had some trouble getting it on correctly.

  Ali came up behind her and put everything in place—very firmly in place—then the two men stood back, arms crossed, and gave her the once-over.

  Ali gave her a long look then again spoke to Michael in Arabic before striding back to his car.

  “What did he say?” asked Jensen.

  “That he thinks you’re crazy to do this and I’m crazy for letting you. You’re still too pretty for a man.”

  Jensen looked at him skeptically. “Ali told you, his king, that he thinks you’re crazy?”

  “Ali doesn’t speak often, but when he does, it’s always the absolute truth. Even to me.”

  “I respect that,” said Jensen. She walked over to Ali’s car and leaned her arms on the open window.

  Ali, behind the steering wheel, looked straight ahead as though she wasn’t there.

  “You know,” she said, “before this is over, you’re going to like me. I’ve made up my mind to it, and whenever I do that, things become inevitable. Brace yourself, big fella.”

  As she walked away, Ali’s eyes followed her. He didn’t actually smile, but his mouth twitched.

  This time, Jensen left the headdress and the sunglasses on as they drove, and she stopped asking Michael questions. It was time to be quiet and think about what lay ahead.

  Then the walls of the city came into view and Jensen felt her stomach knot.

  This wasn’t a game.

  This was life and death.

  As they approached the walled city, Jensen was struck by how well it blended in with its surroundings. So much so that it looked like it was part of the desert.

  But then everything was beginning to look that way to her. There was a sameness about everything.

  They had seen only the occasional car, even as they neared the city, but as they took the road into the city, traffic picked up considerably. All kinds of traffic. Camels, horses, cars, people on foot. The streets were packed.

  And the smell. It was distinctive and invasive. A combination of spicy food, body sweat, fragrance to mask the body odor and animals.

  The sidewalks were thick with people. Cars barely fit on the narrow, winding, dirt streets. Dust hung suspended in the air, visible in the bright sunlight.

  It was burningly hot and still Jensen shivered. There was something sinister about the place.

  And she was certain she would have felt that way even if no one had told her a thing about it.

  No one looked at them as they drove past. It was as though everyone was determined to mind his own business.

  Michael stopped in front of a building without any signage—a run-down vision of cracked stone and peeling paint—and parked in front of it.

  “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Ali parked immediately behind them and
took up a stance near the doorway just a few feet from Jensen so he could apparently see both Michael and her.

  Jensen watched the street in surprise. “Where do all of these nice cars come from? This looks like such a dirt-poor town.” She didn’t expect Ali to either understand what she was saying or respond.

  “They’re trucked or flown in.”

  She looked at him in surprise but didn’t remark. The man’s English was flawless. “Flown?”

  “There’s a small airstrip nearby that belongs to the sheik of Adjani. He allows it to be used occasionally, for a hefty fee, of course.”

  “Who owns all these cars?”

  “Criminals. And, of course, buyers who have come for the white slave auction.”

  Just the thought of something like that made her stomach knot. “How often do they have these auctions?”

  “Twice a year. It’s always a big event. People come from around the world.”

  Michael walked out the door and climbed into the car.

  “Where are we going?” asked Jensen.

  “I’ve arranged for us to rent a place on the edge of town.”

  “Why can’t we just stay at a hotel?”

  “There’s only one, and it’s no place for a lady.”

  “I don’t care about that.”

  “Do you like bugs?”

  “No.”

  “And I think we already know how you feel about snakes.”

  “I’d say you’d had an indication, yes.”

  “And thieves in the night?”

  “Oh, well, thieves,” she said dryly. “They’re better than snakes.”

  Michael tossed her a look. “Trust my judgment on this. We won’t be in the lap of luxury, but I’ve rented a decent place where you’ll be safe from harm.”

  “How is that going to help us find my brother?”

  “It neither helps nor hinders us, Jensen.” Michael suddenly reached over and squeezed her hand. “If Henry is here, we’ll find him. I promise you this.”

  Jensen nodded. She believed him completely. Michael would never promise anything he couldn’t back up.

  They traveled less than a mile to a small beige house set on a small beige hill.

  Michael parked in front with Ali right behind him. While Michael unloaded some things from the car, Ali went inside and looked around, came back out and nodded his head, giving them, apparently, the all clear.