Sovereign Sheriff

by Cassie Miles

  “Simple psychology,” she said breezily.

  “Works for me,” the princess said. “I already have a few ideas about how to get started. I’ll need to talk to some of the royal entourage, and then I can—”

  “Stop.” Jake reined her in before he lost control of the situation. He’d agreed to cooperate, but she wasn’t running this show. “There’s still the danger. You can’t go running around, asking questions. Not without a bodyguard.”

  “Would it make a difference if I told you I had a gun?”

  His empathy for her faded as his irritation kicked in. “How did you get a gun past airport security?”

  “I came on a private jet, remember? And my weapons are legal. They’re both Beretta M9s, and I have concealed carry permits for California. Is there some sort of registration I need for Wyoming?”

  He didn’t want to snap at her, but he was beginning to understand Efraim’s frustration in dealing with the princess. Sending her out in the world with a weapon might be the height of irresponsibility. “Do you know how to shoot?”

  “I’m very accurate.” She drew herself up as though insulted. “I learned marksmanship from Nasim, the same man who taught me evasive driving techniques.”

  Jake was beginning to piece a couple of things together. When he rescued her at the side of the road, she’d refused to leave her vehicle until she went through the suitcase in the backseat and found her makeup. But it wasn’t mascara she wanted. She’d been after her Beretta M9. “You had your weapons in your luggage.”

  “Yes.” Her gaze lowered, and she pretended interest in the toe of her shoe. The princess wasn’t good at outright deception. Was she evasive? Yes. But she hadn’t mastered the art of looking him in the eye and lying.

  He asked, “What are you holding back?”

  Without looking up, she said, “I packed six suitcases in a limited amount of time. I wasn’t sure what I’d need when I got here, so I—”

  “Saida,” he interrupted. “Just tell me.”

  “I thought I’d packed both handguns, but when I looked in my suitcase a minute ago, I only found one.”

  “You’re missing a gun. How is that possible?”

  “When you dragged me away from the car, there was a time span before Wheeler got there. Probably fifteen or twenty minutes. Someone could have gone through my luggage.”

  Jake herded his sister and the princess into the front room and pointed at the array of suitcases stacked beside the front door. He issued an order. “Search the luggage.”

  “All of it?” Saida asked.

  He wasn’t kidding around. “Make sure that your second gun isn’t here. Is there someone you can call in Beverly Hills to see if you left the gun at home?”

  “A housekeeper.”

  “Call her. I want all your weapons accounted for.”

  As he climbed the staircase to the second floor, he heard his sister cooing with delight. Obviously, Maggie was thrilled with the prospect of a fashion show.

  In his master bedroom, Jake debated on whether he should leave the door open or closed. Though he had guards posted outside, he was still concerned. It would be just his luck to get into the shower at the same time Saida raised an alarm. His anger skipped a notch. Sharing a shower with the princess wouldn’t exactly be the worst thing that could happen.

  He sprawled backward across the bed. In spite of the caffeine he’d consumed less than an hour ago, he knew he’d be asleep in two winks if he closed his eyes. He forced his eyes to stay open as he stared at the ceiling.

  What the hell was he going to do with the princess? For right now, he had the situation under control. But tomorrow?

  He couldn’t bring her to the office with him. Even before the royal crime spree hit Wind River County, he regularly put in a full day’s work. Nor could Saida stay here at the house with Maggie. Sending her to the Wind River Ranch and Resort was the most logical option, but he didn’t trust the so-called bodyguards in the royal entourage.

  Another possibility occurred to him. Dragging himself off the bed, he went to the phone on his desk by the window and placed an international call.

  Chapter Seven

  Half an hour later when Jake went downstairs, his living room looked like a kaleidoscope had exploded. Colorful shoes, scarves, dresses, jackets and skirts draped over the furniture. Saida sat cross-legged on the floor with her Beretta in pieces in front of her on a newspaper. With slick efficiency, she reassembled her weapon and snapped in a fresh ammo clip.

  This was another version of Saida—the warrior princess. Not a fashion icon, not a flirt, not a manipulator. In his opinion, this was her sexiest and most honest incarnation.

  Clear-eyed, she met his gaze. “I’m missing a gun.”

  Later, he would ponder the implications. For right now, he simply accepted the fact. “Was anything else taken from your luggage?”

  “Not that I can tell.”

  Maggie bounced toward him holding a bit of black lace in her hands. “Do you recognize this?”

  “Tablecloth?”

  “This is the original for a blouse I bought last year. Saida and I have the exact same taste. Do you believe it?”

  “Great.”

  “Feel this.” She rubbed a long, gray sheath against his cheek. “Is that the softest thing you’ve ever touched?”

  He hadn’t played dress-up with his sisters when they were kids and had no intention of starting now. “That’s enough.”

  “And this scarf.” Maggie uncoiled a long, silky scarf she’d wrapped around her neck. “Isn’t it gorgeous? The pattern mirrors the Jamala crest. Red-and-gold with three horses running.”

  “Pack it up,” he said. “Saida is leaving with me at eight in the morning, and she needs her luggage.”

  Saida scrambled to her feet. “What will we be doing?”

  Since she was so damned anxious to investigate, he’d take advantage of her insights about her brother and her access to the insiders in the royal entourage. Until now, his dealings with the COIN princes hadn’t been easy. These powerful men were accustomed to giving orders, not to answering interrogations. “I want you to start at the resort.”

  Disappointment flickered in her eyes. “Doing what?”

  “Listening,” he said. “They’ll tell you a hundred times more than they’d ever reveal to an outsider.”

  “What do you need to know?”

  “There’s a big question that needs an answer,” he said. “Why here? Out of all the places in the world he could choose, why did Amir arrange for the summit at the Wind River Ranch and Resort?”

  “A coincidence?”

  “According to Freud,” Maggie said, “there are no coincidences. However, Jung had a different idea. He believed in this synchronicity thing.”

  “I’m with Freud on this.” Jake couldn’t believe those words had come from his mouth. “In any case, I think Amir had a reason for coming here.”

  Saida slipped her Beretta into the large side pocket of her shoulder bag. The gun fit so neatly that he suspected she’d had the purse specially designed to carry a concealed weapon. “Tell me more about what happened on the night he disappeared.”

  Jake considered stepping into the living room and taking a seat but decided against it. He didn’t want to accidentally step on any of the super-soft, pretty clothes. “Amir gathered the COIN princes at the ranch, and then he left by himself, headed for a location he mentioned to no one else.”

  “A secret meeting,” the princess said.

  “Any ideas?”

  “I have one,” Maggie said. “Why don’t you two go upstairs and talk about this stuff. I’ll take care of the clothes.”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you,” Saida said. “It’s my mess. I should clean up.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure, believe me.” Maggie shooed the princess toward the staircase. “Go ahead. You’re going to have a busy day tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

  Jake assumed his baby sister was pushing her own matchmak
ing agenda by shoving him and Saida together, but he appreciated her help. It was hard to think when surrounded by clutter. “Thanks, Maggie.”

  He led the way up the staircase and made a left pivot into the guest room. Though his bedroom was considerably larger with a comfortable reading chair by the window and a desk, he didn’t want to introduce the princess into his private lair. Resisting his attraction to her was hard enough; he didn’t need the image of Saida in his bedroom imprinted on his brain.

  Entering the bedroom, she slipped off her fur-collared vest. The fabric of the flesh-colored shirt hugged her curves. After she kicked off her boots, she sat at the head of the bed with her legs curled up beneath her. Her purple-tipped fingernails combed through her shiny, straight, black hair.

  In an instant, she’d changed from a warrior to a soft, lovely woman. “Was it typical for Amir to arrange secret meetings?”

  “He’s not a sneaky person. When he was a teenager, he tried to teach me how to cover for him when he was dating two girls at the same time. His deception failed.” She laughed. “Both girls found out and let him have it.”

  Though she wasn’t doing anything to entice him, he felt a magnetic pull. If he let down his guard, he’d surely be drawn too close and do something he’d regret. He went to the window and checked to make sure the curtains were completely drawn. “Do you think Amir was meeting a woman?”

  “Doubtful. Even if he’s visited this area before, he never mentioned a girlfriend.”

  “Would he tell you?”

  She gazed up and to the right while she considered his question. Her thoughtfulness impressed him. She could have snapped a quick answer, but she was taking the time to consider.

  As he studied her, a wave of nervous energy surged through him. Did she know what kind of effect she had on men? Earlier, he would have said that she calculated every move. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  Hoping to dissipate his tension, he paced from the window to the five-drawer pine dresser where he paused to smooth the fringe on a hand-woven runner that covered the top. His gaze bounced off the four walls. Had this room always been so small?

  “My brother and I aren’t close in the sense that we talk every day. Sometimes, weeks will pass without a word. But our connection is deep. If Amir went to the trouble of arranging a COIN summit at the Wind River Ranch and Resort so he could see a woman, she’d be important to him. I’m sure he’d mention her to me, but he said nothing.”

  “So we can rule out a girlfriend as his destination.”

  She nodded. “I believe so.”

  “Maybe his supposedly secret meeting didn’t have any sort of significant meaning.”

  “How so?”

  “With all due respect,” he said, “your brother might have gone out looking for a hooker.”

  “Would that be likely? Is prostitution legal here?”

  “Not anymore,” he said. “Back in the gold rush days, Wyoming was famous for its bordellos. The town of Dumont was named for Eleanor Dumont, a famous madam and card shark.”

  A smile lit up her face. “Just like the cowboy movies with the saloon girls in fancy dresses. What did they call them? Soiled doves.”

  He wasn’t about to take a trip into the Hollywood fantasy of the Old West where his people were usually portrayed as wild savages or comic relief sidekicks. “Keep the focus on Amir.”

  “I doubt he’d run off to see a hooker. It’s not his style. Amir respects women, which is obvious when you think about how he treats me. He understands that I need to go to UCLA rather than to live the more cloistered life of a princess.”

  Rather than point out that she was different than most women, he stepped back. Forcing himself not to fidget, he leaned against the wall beside the door and hitched his thumbs in his belt. “Amir treats you as an equal.”

  “Not exactly.” She exhaled a long sigh. “He still thinks of me as his baby sister. Like you and Maggie. You have two other sisters?”

  “One is married and the other lives in Denver.”

  “You’re the only male?”

  “My dad’s gone.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “He’s not dead.” A familiar resentment prickled at the edge of his memories. “He’s an alcoholic, can’t hold a job. He’s been in and out of jail.”

  “I’m still sorry.”

  This conversation had veered into forbidden territory. His family history wasn’t something he talked about. Not with anyone, certainly not with a princess.

  There was nothing more he needed to say about his father. And yet, he was speaking. “Dad can’t help who he is. Alcoholism is an illness, I know that. I want to help him. But I can’t change him. No matter how hard I try. No matter how many times I talk to him or sign him in to rehab programs. It’s his life, and there’s only one thing I can do—accept him.”

  That might be the longest speech he’d ever made about his dad and their miserable relationship. If Maggie had been in the room, she would have been shocked, and then she would have given him a standing ovation. She was always saying that he needed to express his feelings. But he didn’t feel any kind of relief.

  Saida uncoiled her legs, rose from the bed and came toward him. “We can’t choose our parents.”

  “Too bad.” He shouldn’t have opened up to her and revealed so much about himself, but it was done. As his mama always said, you can’t unpeel an orange.

  “Families are a test,” she said. “They drive us crazy and make us proud. They teach us about anger and laughter. And love. Family is always at the core, at the heart.”

  “What does your heart tell you about Amir?”

  “When I first heard that he was missing, it seemed unreal. I told myself that any minute, the phone would ring, and Amir would be laughing on the other end, telling me it was all a misunderstanding.” She tossed her head, sending a ripple through her sleek, black hair. “I can’t bear to lose my brother. If anything has happened to him…”

  Though her voice broke, her features were composed, and her caramel-colored eyes were dry. “We have to find him, Jake.”

  “I’m making you a promise.” In all his years as a lawman, he had never done anything like this. One of the first rules of investigation is that you can’t make iron-clad guarantees. Still, he continued, “Whatever it takes, I will find your brother.”

  “I believe you.” Her posture was straight and proud, but her fingers trembled. She clenched her hands into fists and held them straight at her sides. The strain of worrying about her brother must be tearing her apart.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said, too quickly.

  “Saida, I know it’s important for you to keep up a royal appearance, but there’s nobody else around. I wouldn’t tell a soul if you should happen to shed a tear.”

  “A princess isn’t supposed to cry.” As soon as she spoke, her eyes brimmed. It happened as fast as turning on a faucet. She covered her mouth, stifling a sob. “I’m sorry.”

  Jake knew he should keep his distance, but he couldn’t ignore her suffering. He gathered her into his arms and held her quaking body, cradling her against his chest, protecting her from the storm of emotion that raged inside her. The only sound she made was the sharp intake of breath. Again and again, she gasped as she fought for control.

  Her back bowed and her shoulders tensed. She leaned heavily against him as though she was unable to stand on her own. And he was glad to support her. His hands caressed her back, hoping to soothe her.

  As quickly as her tears had appeared, she pulled herself together. With a determined gesture, she pushed away from him, her hands splayed on his chest.

  Her chin lifted as she looked up at him. With his thumbs, he gently wiped away the moisture on her cheeks. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to kiss her.

  Chapter Eight

  Saida gazed up into Jake’s dark eyes and saw his concern, his kindness and his desire. His large hands gently cradled her
face. His breath warmed her lips.

  She wanted his kiss. She needed the comfort of a man’s embrace. Jake made her feel safe.

  Her right hand pressed against his chest, and she felt the beating of his heart, steady and strong. Her own pulse fluttered like a hummingbird. She closed her fingers, gripping his shirt below the collar and pulled him closer.

  Her lips parted. Her eyelids closed. Kiss me, Jake. Breathless, she waited.

  The pressure of his mouth against hers was firm and sweet, not at all sloppy. They shared a breath, an incredible intimacy. Excitement bubbled up inside her. She trembled, aware that this might be the best kiss she’d ever had in her entire life, not wanting this moment to end.

  Too soon, he withdrew. His hands slipped from her face. As he separated from her, she snatched her hand from his chest.

  Her eyes opened and met his. Both of them knew that kissing was inappropriate.

  She hadn’t intended to put him in this position, but when he’d spoken so candidly of his father, she’d been touched. From everything Maggie had told her, Jake wasn’t a man who shared his emotions. The lone wolf. He didn’t involve anyone else in his problems.

  But he’d told her. For some reason, he’d trusted her.

  And she’d done the same. Never before had she wept in front of a stranger. Public displays of emotions were not permitted. But she’d sobbed in Jake’s arms.

  “Tomorrow morning,” he said.

  “I’ll be ready at eight o’clock.”

  She took a backward step as he left the room and closed the door. She and Jake were going to make a very good team.

  THE NEXT MORNING, SAIDA dressed in her version of a no-nonsense detective’s outfit—designer jeans, white shirt with a stand-up collar and gray linen jacket with black piping on the lapel. Her sensible, oxblood brogues were last season’s fashion but very comfortable in case she needed to chase down a bad guy. Though she started off with no jewelry, she put on white gold hoop earrings and a black pearl necklace. Even a no-nonsense detective needs to accessorize.