by Marie Tuhart
Finally she turned, Malik grabbed her arm, and together they ran, then he pushed them both through the doors.
Metal scraped against metal. Glass shattered, and cries were all he heard for the next few moments. It wasn’t until he blinked several times that he saw the smoke and dust in the air. Malik could barely breathe. They were safe, at least for the moment.
“Malik?” She touched his head, and a fine layer of concrete dust floated from his hair.
“I’m okay.” He rolled to his feet, and pulled her up and into his arms. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She tightened her arms around him, then a shudder swept through her body as her knees buckled.
Malik turned and saw the car embedded in the doorway. If he hadn’t grabbed her arm and flung them both into the hospital … “I thought for a moment … ” He buried his hands in her hair.
“I was startled, and it took me a second or two to react. I’m sorry if I scared you.” Her heart beat against his.
“Scared is a mild word for what I was feeling.” He tilted her head and looked into her eyes. “Never, ever, scare me like that again.” He lowered his mouth to hers and captured her lips in a hard, brief kiss.
“Your Highness,” Samir interrupted.
Not about to let Catherine go, Malik tucked her against his body. “Was there anyone in the car?”
“No. Remote controlled.”
“Find him.” Samir nodded. What the hell was going on? This was the second attempt on Catherine’s life. Who was behind this? The tribal leaders? He didn’t think so. Once maybe, but not twice, and they were more direct than using a vehicle.
“What the hell happened?” Hassan ran over to the pair. “We’ve got alarms going off all over the place. Is anyone hurt?”
“We’re fine.” Malik glanced at the wreckage, then at his brother.
“Is it always this exciting here?” Catherine asked.
Both men stared at her, then Malik smiled, and Hassan gave a small laugh.
“Crazy woman,” muttered Hassan.
“Does nothing faze you?” asked Malik.
“I made you smile, didn’t I?” She grinned at him, but her face turned somber as she glanced over his shoulder.
The press had gathered and were taking pictures when the local police arrived.
“Let’s go someplace less public.” He guided her away from the wreckage. This was no accident.
“I need to work.” Catherine told Malik, for what seemed like the hundredth time. The police had taken their statements, the car had been towed away, and not even two hours later there was a team of construction workers fixing the mess. But he couldn’t let her go.
“I’d rather you come back to the palace with me.” At least there she’d be safe. Leaving her at the hospital went against every nerve in his body.
“No. I know you’re worried.” She placed her palm against his cheek. He savored her soft skin against his. “Work will help me settle down.”
“You could have been killed.” He had to get back to the palace and discuss this latest attempt on her life, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the car. What would have happened if the car had arrived a few minutes earlier? Or later? How many people might have been hurt or killed? The “what ifs” kept running through his mind.
“But I wasn’t. And it could have been you they were aiming at.”
He shook his head. “It was you. You were right in the path, if I hadn’t grabbed your arm and we both made a mad dash … ” He didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was. “Just promise me you won’t leave the hospital until I come back, and no ditching your bodyguards.”
“I promise.” She tilted her head and stared up at him.
He puffed out a breath at the earnest look in her eyes. “All right.” He dipped his head. “Behave or I’ll spank you.”
“That gives me a reason to be naughty.”
“Not if I spank you with a nice hard wooden paddle.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be good.” She shivered in his arms.
He wasn’t sure if the shiver was anticipation or apprehension, but both were good. “Minx.” He dropped a kiss on her lips.
She flashed him a grin before he strode away.
24
The next week passed in a blur. Malik settled down at his desk for the day. Four days ago, his father had announced to the country he was stepping down. And since then, Malik’s life had become a whirlwind of activity. Not that it hadn’t been before, but now it was much worse. The only saving grace was Catherine. When she was by his side, he didn’t feel the pressure of what being king would mean. She was his calming force.
As busy as he was, she made sure he sat down and relaxed after dinner. A smile crept over his lips. The first night she’d drawn him into her room and pushed him down onto the sofa, his blood heated. Then she began to ask him about his day.
At the time, he hadn’t realized how important it was for him to discuss his day with her. It allowed him to decompress, but also allowed him to discuss his worries. Catherine never judged, and the woman was damn intelligent. She’d offer comments and suggestions. She even defended Omar when Malik wasn’t happy with his minister.
A knock at his door had him raising his head, and he was surprised to see his brother Khalid poke his head around the open frame. “I need you to come to the public chamber.”
Malik rose to his feet. “What is it?”
“We found the man we think is responsible for the attacks on Catherine.”
“Well, Ahmed?” said Malik, staring at the man who’d tried to hurt Catherine. As much as he wanted to choke the life out of Ahmed, he couldn’t. As the future ruler, he had to hide his emotions and follow the law, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted.
“Please, Your Highness, I only meant to frighten the woman.”
“Why?”
Ahmed flinched at the question. “Because the person I worked for wanted her to leave the country. He says she doesn’t belong. He is impatient. His last order to me was to get rid of her, but I couldn’t.”
Malik froze in place. Someone wanted Catherine dead. No. That was not going to happen, not now, not ever—well, not until they were both very, very old. He protected what was his, and she was his. “Who ordered you to do this? And what did you hope to gain?” Pacing helped him keep his anger under control, but it would only work for so long.
The man bowed his head. “Money. I needed the money, Your Highness.”
The man’s voice trembled, but a note of shame was there as well. Malik hesitated, suspecting something wasn’t right. “Why did you need the money?” He gentled his tone.
“My wife is ill, Your Highness. Her illness requires medication I can’t afford. I was told if I scared your girlfriend away, I would be given all I needed.” The man openly wept as he sank to his knees. “I swear to you, Your Highness, I would never hurt your woman. I could not.”
“Easy.” Malik knelt next to the man. As much as he and his father were trying to do for their people, some of them were still not getting the help they needed. He cupped the man’s shoulder. “I need to know who paid you.”
The man swallowed. “I fear, not for my life, but that of my wife.”
“Do not fear.” He looked up at his brother, who nodded. “As soon as you tell me who hired you, Khalid will take you to your wife and transport you both to the hospital, where your wife will be taken care of without charge.”
Ahmed nodded. “It was Omar—”
Malik rose to his feet and started out of the room even before Ahmed finished saying the name.
“Malik!” Khalid yelled.
He didn’t stop. Fury like he’d never experienced before coursed through his veins. How dare Omar try to hurt Catherine! Malik walked rapidly down the hall, looking in offices until he found his minister of information in his father’s office.
“Malik, there you are,” said his father. “Omar was just—”
“You bastard.” Malik grabbed Oma
r by the collar and pressed him up against the wall. “Did you really think you could get away with it?”
Not only was Malik’s anger directed at his minister of information, but it was also at himself. He’d let this man get close to Catherine, ignored his put-downs and his protests. If only he’d paid more attention.
“Your …Your Highness,” Omar stuttered.
“Malik, what are you doing?” His father was on his feet.
Malik started to answer when the minister’s eyes widened, a hint of fear entering them, as he glanced over Malik’s shoulder. Then, in an instant, coldness replaced the fear. Malik turned his head to see his brother and Ahmed standing in the office doorway.
Without releasing the minister, Malik spoke. “Omar hired Ahmed to frighten Catherine into leaving the country, and when that didn’t work, he told Ahmed to kill Catherine.”
“That’s ridiculous,” the minister said.
“You deny it?” Malik tightened his hold. “Are you not the one who kept suggesting I keep my distance from Catherine? Not spend time with her, even after our engagement was announced? The one who criticized her at every step?” Anger flowed through Malik’s veins.
“Enough,” his father said. “Let go of the minister, and let’s get this straightened out.”
His father’s hard tone and order had Malik gritting his teeth. “Watch yourself, Omar. I’m not as forgiving as my father,” Malik whispered before releasing the man and stepping back.
“I’m sure this is a simple misunderstanding.” The minister straightened his clothing.
“Is this the man who paid you?” Malik asked Ahmed.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“He is lying.” Omar’s hands clenched at his sides, but his eyes were hard and dead.
“I have no reason to lie.” Ahmed spread his hands out in front of him. “You promised me that my wife would be taken care of. Instead, she is still lying in our small home, without the medicine she needs, because you refused to pay me.”
Omar drew himself up and stared at Ahmed. “You are nothing.”
The contempt in Omar’s voice almost caused Malik to hit him. His minister was lying through his teeth. His body language was tense and defensive. And Malik had an idea of how to prove the man was lying.
“Khalid, please take Ahmed to my office.” Ahmed opened his mouth. Malik leaned over. “Easy, my friend,” he whispered. “Trust me to fix this situation.”
Ahmed bowed his head.
Malik turned to his father. “Father, please keep my minister here while I check out some facts.”
“I have work to do,” the minister blustered, moving toward the door.
Two guards blocked him.
“For now, you will wait here,” his father announced.
Malik inclined his head to his father and left the room. An hour later, he walked back into his father’s office with all the proof he needed.
Catherine stepped back and smiled. The mural was done. She turned in a slow circle, taking in each wall. The walls were filled with animals and plants, most of them native to Bashir.
Thanks to Hassan, she was able to create flowering plants and flowers from where the medical equipment would be attached to the walls. The sense of accomplishment warmed her heart, but at the same time her heart broke. She no longer had a reason to stay in Bashir.
“This is incredible.”
Catherine turned to see the queen standing in the doorway. “I’m happy you like it.”
“The children will love it. You’ve done a magnificent job.”
Catherine gathered her materials together. “What brings you here?”
“I was hoping to convince you to take a break and have tea with me, but since you’re done, we can return home for our tea.”
“That would be nice.”
Samir and two other bodyguards were waiting outside the door. They escorted Catherine and the queen to the waiting car. They had barely cleared the outside hospital door when the press descended.
“Is it true?” one yelled.
“How do you feel about having your past revealed?” another yelled.
More bodyguards surrounded them as Catherine and Anna made their way to the car. Camera flashes blinded them. What were they talking about?
“Is the prince still going to marry you, knowing you caused the death of Jamie Monroe?”
The question brought Catherine up short. One of the press corps members shoved a newspaper into her hand.
“Catherine.” Anna urged her into the waiting car.
Catherine clutched the paper in her fist as she climbed in, fear filling her heart.
Her fear was realized the moment she looked down at the front page. “Prince Malik’s future wife implicated in the death of Jamie Monroe.”
“It’s trash,” Anna said.
“Only if you don’t believe it,” whispered Catherine, closing her eyes. She didn’t want to see the pity in the queen’s gaze.
When they reached the palace, Catherine turned to Anna. “Excuse me for not having tea with you, but I’m not feeling well.” Without waiting for an answer, Catherine wearily climbed the stairs. Once inside her room, she began to read the paper.
Her stomach churned and tumbled as she relived every minute of the night Jamie died. The night she could no longer keep her silence about. She’d failed Jamie as a friend and pretend lover. The night he died, she’d struck out at the press for their intrusion, but it had stopped them from knowing Jamie chose to die that night. A shiver swept through her body.
She couldn’t handle reporters and she’d never be able to. She had to leave. Now. She wouldn’t let Malik’s name and family be drawn into her mess.
After pulling her suitcase from the closet, she packed. If Malik realized what she was doing, he wouldn’t let her leave. He would try to protect her, and in doing so, ruin his good name. She refused to let that happen. He was destined to be king. And she was destined to be alone.
25
Malik prowled around the room. He wanted to go to Catherine, but she had called him and told him she needed some time alone. He had to respect her request.
His mother told him how the press had descended on them and about the newspaper Catherine had seen. He hadn’t known the depth of his minister’s hatred until that moment.
How could he explain that one of his most trusted advisors had fed the story to the press, knowing what it would do? Let alone, that same advisor was responsible for all the accidents? Would she understand he didn’t care what the story said? Would she believe him when he told her he loved her?
He stopped pacing. He loved her. The words turned over in his mind. “You are an idiot,” he whispered in the empty room.
He didn’t care about her past. He cared about her and how the past affected her, but it couldn’t touch him or his love for her.
He’d read the story himself and could see exactly why she refused to see him and hid in her room. Plus, it had given him insight as to why she hated the paparazzi so much. His life was filled with them. He worried about Catherine being able to cope with that.
But so far she’d done a wonderful job of dealing with them. Yes, he decided, she would be able to handle herself and anything they threw at her once she believed in his love. He longed to go to her, to take her into his arms and tell her how much he loved her. They could weather this storm together. But her request to be left alone held him back.
Time. He had to give her time.
After a restless night and a morning of waiting, Malik knocked on Catherine’s door. It was after ten. She didn’t usually sleep this late, but after yesterday he couldn’t blame her. “Catherine,” he called, and knocked again. Still no response. He twisted the knob and walked in.
The silence was so complete his muscles tightened and his stomach turned over. She wasn’t in the room, his instincts told him that, but there was something else. The room was different, as if all the sunshine were gone.
He strode into the bedroom.
Her bed was neatly made and there were two white envelopes sitting primly against the multicolored pillows. Crossing to the bed, he glanced at the closet. Her clothes were missing. All that hung there were the caftans in royal colors.
Heart pounding, Malik snatched up the envelope with his name on it and ripped it open.
Malik,
I hope you’ll forgive me for what I’ve done. I never meant for any of this to happen. I hope all goes well for you and your family. You will make a perfect king.
Love,
Catherine
The word love gave him hope. Anger flared deep within his gut. At her for leaving, at the paparazzi, and at himself for not anticipating her need to run. Well, he wasn’t going to let her go. There was nowhere she could hide from him.
He picked up the second envelope and marched out of the room. Yelling for Samir, he ran down the stairs. If anyone knew where Catherine had gone, it would be Samir.
Malik had to move quickly. Somehow, Catherine had managed to circumvent his security force yet again and made her way out of the palace without a bodyguard and, he suspected, a driver.
Heads would roll, but not until he found Catherine and brought her back. But that meant sitting everyone down and all of them being on the same page.
Catherine sat in the airport lounge nursing a cup of strong Arabic coffee. She’d exploited the security flaw in the garden again and stopped at the hospital to say a silent goodbye before taking a taxi to the airport. She’d sat next to Zain’s bed with tears in her eyes. She was going to miss the little boy. She’d written him a note and left it with the small stuffed elephant in the chair for him to find when he woke.
In the taxi, she’d called her best friend, Sara, and asked her to meet her at the airport with the promise to fill her in once she got home. She didn’t want to discuss it in a taxi where the driver could overhear.