by Leslie North
From the moment she had found out she was pregnant, she vowed that she would never intentionally place Calum in harm’s way and that meant keeping him away from the Middle East until he was old enough to understand.
And while Zaid might be able to accept her family, she knew that it would be completely unacceptable to his father who ruled Sharjah much like a monarchy.
“Just understand it’s political, and sometimes the world we live in won’t see us for the individuals we are versus who our family is,” she explained, telling him as much as she was able to.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” he questioned.
Straightening her shoulders, she looked at him, “It isn’t the same but I don’t expect you to understand that.”
“I want to meet him,” Zaid said, switching back to Calum, turning the picture over in his hand.
She pulled her hand back from him. “Don’t you think, after tonight, that this place is too dangerous for our son?” she asked. “I mean, you try to hide the problems, and that just makes them worse. That breeds more of what we saw today. It’s only going to get worse until something is done to fix it.”
Zaid gave her a sly little smile. “You spooked yourself a little bit today didn’t you? And, of course, that means that this place is suddenly oh-so-dangerous, huh? If you had listened to me, you wouldn’t have been in any danger.”
“You don’t understand, Zaid,” she argued. “Listen to me. This is the kind of thing I’ve spent my life around. When you have problems like you see in Rajak, when you have that kind of poverty, if you ignore it instead of trying to help those people, things only get worse. Much worse. I don’t mean any offense, Zaid, but you don’t see it from in here. You can’t possibly see it.”
He sighed. “You don’t see what we’ve accomplished to try to help, and part of what we hope to achieve with further investments is providing more relief to those troubled areas. I know there’s a lot of work left. We have to get jobs in place for the people in Rajak and Timina, so that they can start contributing. I know this, but don’t let one isolated event make you think the sky is falling. The sky is not falling over the Emirate of Sharjah and our son will be safe here.”
Rebecca shook her head. He talked a good game, but she wasn’t prepared to take any chances with her son. “But, no, back to your original statement, I don’t think bringing him here is a good idea,” she finally said.
Life had been so much simpler when they’d worked together in America, when she’d escorted him on a private visit to the States. Their relationship had been more than just professional, and their connection sitting together now was proof of that. The locked door, the privacy, Zaid’s bossy version of tenderness; those things were all proof that they were more to each other than mere acquaintances who happened to have a child together.
She reached for him again, wanting to run her hands over his shoulder and down his strong arm. “I should be getting back to the hotel,” she murmured.
“No,” he said flatly. “You’re not going back to the hotel. You’re going to stay here. I will see to it that you are protected and that all your needs are tended to, but here at the palace.”
“Zaid, I really appreciate the offer and the concern. Really, I do, but all of my things are at the hotel, and the rest of my group is there,” she explained. She stood up to signal to him that it really was time for her to go.
“No,” he argued. “I insist. Stay here and let the Sultan’s staff take care of you. You will reunite with the delegates each day; you’ve no need to stay at the same hotel as well.”
There were so many reasons for her to say no; even though her heart was screaming at her to say, yes. Fighting her immediate impulse to acquiesce, she shook her head.
“Zaid, no. And please, let’s leave it at that,” she pleaded.
Zaid stood from the couch, towering over her all of a sudden. “I’ll have your things brought over from the hotel this afternoon. Right now, I have a meeting to attend. I’ll see you tonight at dinner.” He moved to the door and started to unlock it.
“Dammit, Zaid, listen to me,” Rebecca demanded. “I’ve made it just fine without you for the last five years. I made it fine on my own before I ever knew you. I don’t suddenly need your charity now,” she argued. “I’m going back to the hotel.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t around for the two of you,” Zaid said without looking back at her. “I’m having your things brought over. I’ll see you at dinner after my meeting.”
He walked out of the room and she heard the click of the door lock as she fumed. She’d known he could be controlling, but she’d never seen him quite like that. He had intentionally ignored her comments. She wasn’t going to stand for it, she told herself, but she didn’t know what to do to make it right. At least not while she was locked in his quarters.
6
“I’ll have a private plane at the airport to make the international flight. Make sure everything is handled on your end. I’ll also have a car waiting at the airport here. Remember, no customs. No paperwork or documentation. My pilot will take over at the airport, and you won’t have anything else to worry about at that point,” Zaid explained over the phone as Alacabak entered his private office.
“I’ve got to go. Remember, everything else is handled. Meet the pilot at the airport. I have it from there. Talk to you again soon.” Zaid disconnected the call.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Alacabak apologized.
“No, making some business arrangements,” Zaid lied.
“Sounds like it,” Alacabak responded, his tone devoid of any emotion.
Zaid invited the Chief Advisor to sit down in front of his desk. He wasn’t completely over Alacabak’s dismissive attitude at the restaurant, where he’d allowed Rebecca to wander off without alerting anyone. He had created a liability for the Sheikh with his lack of concern over the well-being of the tour group. For now, however, he kept this concern to himself.
“What brings you by this afternoon?” Zaid asked instead.
“I want to talk to you about the woman from the diplomatic tour group,” he started. “Rebecca Reid. I’ve noticed you two seem to have some sort of history together.”
Zaid sensed he was being set up for something. He wondered how much Alacabak knew about their history already, since he was bold enough to approach Zaid about it. “I worked with her five years ago on a private visit to the United States to meet with some investors and other business partners. She was appointed as an assistant to me at the time,” Zaid said.
Alacabak nodded thoughtfully. Zaid could see the wheels turning behind the forty-eight year old’s eyes. He was up to something. Zaid knew he couldn’t trust him.
“How well do you know her?” he asked Zaid.
“I’m not sure I understand the question. I wouldn’t say I know her that well at all. We’ve only worked together,” Zaid answered. “What’s going on here, Alacabak? Why do I feel like you’re interviewing me?”
Again, the Chief Advisor paused thoughtfully. “I have to investigate any suspected incidents of impropriety,” he answered after a moment. His answers were so matter-of-fact and bold; Zaid was becoming certain that the man had some piece of information already that he wasn’t willing to share just yet.
“What impropriety do you suspect, then?” Zaid prompted.
“She was brought back to your private quarters after lunch. I’m simply following up.”
“I had her examined by a doctor after she was attacked outside the restaurant. I didn’t think I had to answer to you for taking that kind of action, especially not to someone whose inaction put the welfare of the group at risk,” Zaid answered.
“I guess it’s a good thing their welfare isn’t my responsibility, then,” Alacabak responded. “Maybe your sense of responsibility towards this woman is influenced by something other than your professional position in relation to her?”
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Mr. Noozu,” Za
id answered, dropping the advisor’s first name. He hoped he would get to the point and stop pursuing whatever information he thought he could expose by interviewing Zaid. “If you have a specific accusation, it would do you well to present it now or drop it altogether,” Zaid commanded.
“Yes, sir,” Alacabak said in a careful tone. “I do apologize if I have offended you in any way.”
“You certainly have, implying that I would have improper relations with a member of the diplomatic tour group visiting our country.” Zaid adopted a tone of seniority, re-establishing his authority over his father’s chief advisor.
“Yes, sir. That was hasty and presumptuous of me,” the advisor continued, his tone still neutral.
“It was.” Zaid let his last statement hang in the air between them for a moment.
“How did you like working with her before?” Alacabak asked, adopting a friendlier tone, though Zaid felt certain he was simply trying a different approach to get information out of the Sheikh.
Zaid couldn’t resist answering the question, though, and giving Alacabak an idea of who she was. “She is very easy to work with, and she is very passionate about her work. In fact, that is what got her in trouble today.”
“How did escorting the diplomatic tour group get her in trouble?” he asked Zaid.
Zaid realized he’d said too much, and now he had to tell Alacabak everything that had happened, and why.
“She wants the touring investors to visit Rajak and Timina. She’s afraid they’ll think twice before investing in us if they discover we haven’t been forthcoming about the situation of the unemployed,” Zaid said, bracing for the backlash, as he suspected Alacabak would think he’d somehow supported her ideals.
“So when she left the restaurant today, she went to Rajak, didn’t she?” he asked for clarification.
“That’s exactly what she did,” Zaid told him. His fear that she might have been hurt far worse than scratched elbows and knees kept him from admitting that he was impressed by her tenacity and refusal to accept the status quo.
“What happened?”
“She was accosted by two men who took her bag with her belongings and money in it,” Zaid answered.
“But she’s fine, correct? And what of the two men?”
“They got away. Since she was knocked to the ground, we stopped to tend to her.”
Alacabak’s eyes narrowed. Wrong answer.
“Be careful, Zaid,” Alacabak cautioned. “Her behavior smacks of activism. I will conduct a background check on her. If she’s going to cause us trouble, we need to be ahead of her.”
Zaid was uncomfortable with the idea of Alacabak looking into Rebecca’s history. He didn’t know what kind of information the advisor would find, but there was at least one piece of information he would prefer remain confidential until he had everything sorted with Calum. His father would be furious if he found out there was an illegitimate child. But before he could lay claim to him as his rightful father, he had to find out why Rebecca was so opposed to it. She was hiding something but he had yet to figure out what.
“That won’t be necessary,” he told the Sultan’s advisor.
“I’m sorry?”
“Ms. Reid would not have been allowed to come on this tour without first passing a rigorous screening process like all the other attendees.” Zaid said. “I’ve worked with her before, and I trust her.” There wasn’t much he could say about Rebecca that didn’t sound like he was admitting some of his feelings for her.
“Good. If you trust her, then you should feel confident that I won’t find anything,” Alacabak replied.
“I feel confident enough that I don’t want you wasting palace resources on doing a background on her,” Zaid argued.
A sly, dirty smile spread across Alacabak’s face. “I won’t waste any palace resources. Don’t worry. I have my own.” He stood up to leave. “I hope I don’t find any evidence of impropriety between the two of you. Because I will be forced to act on it if anything like that comes up.”
“Certainly,” Zaid said, watching the Chief Advisor leave his office. He sat back in his chair and wondered if Alacabak would even pull her background information.
Of course, he would. And it was likely he’d find out about Calum and the political family ties Rebecca had been reluctant to discuss with him in detail. If news of his illegitimate son got out before he had a chance to claim him, he could be ruined. His father, the Sultan, was still furious at his brothers for choosing Americans as their brides and it had been his fervent wish that Zaid choose a more conventional bride. Rebecca was anything but conventional.
He had learned a bit about her upbringing from what she had shared with him five years ago and his own investigator had filled in the blanks. While he had been surprised to find out her family history, he had kept it to himself hoping that Rebecca would trust him enough to share with him what he already knew. When they had parted ways, he thought he’d never see her again, but now that they had a child between them…things were very different.
What he didn’t understand was what was Alacabak’s end game? The man had served his father for years and was if anything, consistently indifferent. What changed now and why was he so obvious about his intentions?
“I have my own resources as well,” he said aloud in his empty office as his picked up his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts. He would do his own background check on the advisor with the hope that he wasn’t particularly careful about covering his tracks.
After he disconnected the call with his contact, Zaid sat back and thought about Rebecca. She’d been adamant about not staying in the palace where it was safe, and that bothered him, especially after learning that they had a son together. That knowledge made her safety his number one priority as long as she was under his watch.
There was a knock at the door. It was one of the palace staff members, peeking his head in the door. “Sheikh Zaid,” he said timidly as he entered.
“Yes, what is it?” Zaid asked, impatient for being interrupted.
“It’s Miss Reid, sir,” the staff member said.
“Yes?”
“One of the maids didn’t realize that there was anyone in your quarters when she opened the door to clean. Miss Reid requested a car and has left for the hotel,” he informed him.
Zaid shook his head. “Thank you for telling me,” Zaid said
Alone again, he paced his office. He was tempted to go to the hotel and drag her back, kicking and screaming, but he didn’t dare with Alacabak nosing around. He’d have to tread carefully.
He wasn’t going to let her get away with shrugging him off but he wasn’t sure how to make her obey him. Then, it occurred to him that it wasn’t so much about making her obey him as it was about not giving her any other option.
But eliminating her ability to make her own decisions, leaving her stuck with simply going along with whatever he had devised, didn’t seem right either. He had to find some way to convince her to go along with him that didn’t amount to forcing her to agree to his will.
She had to understand that staying in the palace was in her best interest, as a diplomat, as a personal matter between them, and as the mother of his son.
7
Rebecca had fumed the entire way back to the hotel. She could not believe that he had actually locked her in his quarters as if she were some sort of criminal. Vowing to spend as little time alone with him as possible, she dressed for tonight’s dinner with the delegates, smirking at Zaid’s potential responses when he found out that she had managed to outmaneuver him and leave the palace.
She didn’t think much of it when the young man at her door told her he’d been sent to escort her to dinner. Given what happened in Rajak, she assumed it was another way for Zaid to exert his control over the tour and she was delighted at the idea of him seeing her in the black gown she was wearing to dinner that evening. She couldn’t wait to feel his eyes following the subtle curves of her petite body in the form-fitting blac
k fabric, as she kept her distance.
When she realized the driver was taking her to the palace instead of to dinner with the tour group, she was tempted to tell him to take her to the restaurant but she thought better of it. He’d figured out a way to get her to go along with him after all, it seemed. She wanted to be upset with him but she couldn’t bring herself to be. While she had been angry with him for locking her in his quarters, she also knew that it was his way of trying to keep her safe. After the incident that afternoon, she wasn’t sure who was more worried Zaid or her.
Looking down at her gown, she smirked knowing how much he would appreciate it as she contemplated ways to arouse him at dinner. If he was going to try to push her around, she was prepared to retaliate in the best way she knew how.
The driver pulled up to the palace and another staff member escorted her from the car to a rooftop terrace overlooking the rest of Sharjah, where a table for two had been prepared. Zaid waited with his back to her, wearing a suit with his traditional headpiece. Turning, he pocketed his cell phone as his gaze swept over her appreciatively. Walking toward him, he murmured his approval, as he greeted her with his warm, welcoming smile. She had never been able to resist that smile.
“I’m glad you could make it,” he said walking in a circle around her, admiring her gown. “You look good enough to eat.” His comment had her wondering what he had planned for dessert.
“Cute,” she replied, moving toward the table so he couldn’t see the flush creeping across her cheeks. “You do realize I didn’t have a choice, don’t you?” she threw over her shoulder as she neared the table.
Before she could sit on her own, he was suddenly beside her, holding her chair out for her. “You could have told the driver, no,” Zaid reminded her standing close enough to her that his suit jacket brushed against her bare arm.