by C. J. Miller
Saafir rubbed his temples. First Nibal and now Thomas Nelson. Both the Americans and Qamsarians had had traitors working against them.
The security office door opened again and Adham entered. He stumbled to Saafir. Saafir’s alarm went on full alert. “What’s wrong?” Saafir asked in Arabic.
For the Qamsarian Warrior to show any physical sign of injury was rare.
Adham opened his jacket and Saafir swore in Arabic. His brother’s earlier gunshot wound, the one Adham had assured him was healing and under a doctor’s care, was seeping enough to stain his shirt red and yellow.
“Before you get angry, I had an appointment today. I knew something was wrong,” Adham said. Sweat beaded his forehead and his color was pale, his skin waxy.
Sarah gasped when she saw Adham. “Adham! What happened?”
Adham said nothing. To admit to Saafir he was injured would be a deep embarrassment to him. To admit it to a woman would be impossible.
“He’s fine. I’ll take care of this,” Saafir said, leading his brother away.
Saafir called for his security team to assemble. He selected the two guards with the best skills. “Take Adham to the hospital. Do not under any circumstances allow him to leave. He is to remain until I hear from his doctors that he is better. I want to be appraised of his status at every change.”
He turned to his brother. “Adham, this is a command.” He wouldn’t allow his brother’s devotion to his protection override his need for medical care.
“Yes, your excellency,” they said as they took Adham under his arms and led him away.
Chapter 7
“Why didn’t Adham say anything sooner about being injured?” Sarah asked.
They were waiting in the building’s security office for the FBI to arrive. A quick call to Saafir’s FBI agent brother-in-law and they’d learned the agent assigned to their case, Lucia Huntington, though green around the edges, was thorough, smart and savvy.
“He’s a Qamsarian Warrior. It is a mark against his honor to admit he is hurt.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s common sense. He’s no good to anyone dead.”
Saafir had received a call from the hospital. Adham had a severe infection resulting from improper care of the gunshot wound he’d received earlier in the week. He had pushed himself too hard and he was paying the consequences.
Saafir rubbed his jaw. “Adham is too stubborn to die.”
Sarah heard the resolve and worry in Saafir’s voice and reached for his hand. “I know you care for each other. He’ll get better. He’s in good, healing hands now.” She hadn’t meant to be harsh with her words. The day had been overwhelming and showed no signs of slowing down.
Saafir swallowed hard. “Adham means a lot to me.”
“I know he does. It’s obvious how much you care about him.”
“Is it?” Saafir asked, inclining his head.
“It is to me,” she said. “He’s so protective of you, and you trust him more than the others.”
Saafir gathered her against him in that easy way he had. “Adham is important to me. As are you. I will be criticized for walking into that lobby. I wasn’t thinking about my country. I was thinking about my lover in a madman’s hands and I had to stop him.”
Sarah rested her head against his shoulder. “Thank you for that. Thank you for what you did.” It wasn’t the first time she had spoken those words, but Saafir had risked his life for her and she would never forget that. “When you walked into that lobby, I was terrified. Khoury had been mumbling about you and the trade agreement. He was an unstable man. Something was wrong with him. You could have died. I could have died. Anything could have happened in those few minutes to end both our lives.”
Saafir rubbed her arm in a slow, soothing stroke. “I wouldn’t have let that happen. I am not supposed to have anything to do with you, and yet, in that moment, you were all that mattered to me. Getting to you, seeing you and talking to you took precedence over everything else.” He sounded anguished, like he was wrestling with the decision he’d already made. “Your life is precious to me,” he added.
Her heart ached for him. Ached for what he was going through and ached that it seemed his life was not his. He was concerned about the inevitable criticism from the media and the Conservatives. The more she learned about his life, the more Sarah realized Saafir the man had dreams and hopes a far cry from the dreams and hopes of Saafir the emir. He belonged to his country and the decisions he made were with Qamsar in mind.
Sarah could have told him she would stand by him through the fallout, but she didn’t know if that would help or make him feel worse. Every time they had discussed their relationship, they had been clear that it had an end. But in her heart, they were no longer a throw-away, lust-driven, thrill-seeking adventure in bed. She returned to him again and again. That meant something a great deal more than a single night of passion.
Sarah’s phone rang. She had almost forgotten about her handbag that the police had returned to her. Digging through it, she answered, not recognizing the number. It could be her clients who were having their wedding that night.
She answered it, injecting some energy into her voice.
“Hey, Sarah.”
It wasn’t her clients. It was Alec.
The familiarity in his voice and the laid-back, devil-may-care tone had always made her feel at ease. Today, it jarred her. How was he calling? If he had left rehab again, she would be furious with him and she certainly wouldn’t cover for him, a favorite favor of Alec’s.
It took Sarah a moment to find her emotional footing. “You can’t call me,” Sarah said. She and Alec had agreed it was healthier for them to remain unavailable and not speak to each other.
“I had to call. I’ve been worried. Do you know what they’re saying about you in the news?” Alec said. “I saw something about a hostage and a shooting.”
Sarah groaned thinking of her picture being splashed across the news.
“I’m fine,” Sarah said. She didn’t want to know. If they were posting her picture and mentioning her name, it would impact her business.
“They’re saying you’re some king’s lover,” Alec said.
Sarah flinched at the idea of her private life being displayed for the world to see. Were they actually using the word lover? “It’s a misunderstanding.”
Saafir glanced over at her with a curious expression on his face. Sarah forced a smile to let him know she was fine. Could he hear what Alec was saying? Shifting in her seat, she put some space between them and lowered the volume on her phone.
“Are you planning to marry a king?” Alec asked.
Speaking to Alec was a poignant reminder of how difficult a marriage was and Sarah had no plans to repeat that mistake with anyone. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not marrying anyone.”
“The pictures aren’t so ridiculous,” Alec said, hurt thick in his voice.
Sarah didn’t know what pictures he had seen or what exactly he was referring to, but she had to end the conversation.
“People do crazy things with photo editing. I have to go. I’m in the middle of a situation.”
“Is he there now?” Alec asked, jealousy ringing in his voice.
“Goodbye, Alec,” Sarah said. When she spoke his name, Saafir’s gaze swerved to look at her.
“Sarah, wait. I have to see you,” Alec said.
She didn’t want to ask, but she had to. “Where are you?” If he said anywhere other than the rehab program, Sarah would lose it.
“I’ve been transferred to a house with a built-in work program,” Alec said.
A halfway house, the next step for Alec post-rehab. It was a solid place for a transition. Was he ready for it? If he had been pushed too hard too fast, he would relapse. If he was presented with the same people and pro
blems from his past, old habits would resurface. Sarah found herself simultaneously battling worry for Alec and her promise to herself to remain uninvolved.
Sarah turned away from Saafir and lowered her voice. “I’m happy to hear you’re progressing. But the circumstances haven’t changed. Unless your counselors have changed their minds, I am not good for you.”
“Are you open to talking to them again?” he asked.
She wasn’t. She couldn’t get dragged into the emotional maze that was Alec’s life. “We’ve settled this matter.”
“I’ve changed.”
She’d heard that before and his words fell on deaf ears. “So have I.”
“I’ll come to you.”
“No.” Mustering her courage she hung up the phone. She had talked for too long as it was. The phone rang again, but Sarah didn’t answer. She couldn’t talk to Alec. If he had been discharged from the rehab center and was staying in a halfway house, her involvement could cause a regression.
“Are you okay?” Saafir asked.
Alec’s call was small compared to what she had gone through that morning. She didn’t pretend Saafir was unaware of who had called. “It’s hard when he calls. I feel like I need to do something. Or say something. But I’ve been down every possible road and guess what?” She threw her hands in the air. “I can’t fix him. I can’t do anything to make him better. I can’t make him stay off drugs.” A sob caught in her throat as several memories collided at once. Alec, passed out in their old apartment. Jeff, dead on the floor of the lobby. Khoury, standing over her aiming a gun at her. She had been certain her life was over. “My failures don’t stop there. I also can’t keep crazies from shooting at you. I can’t repair my home and my belongings that have been smashed to pieces. Jeff and Thomas Nelson and Khoury are dead. Adham is in the hospital.” She was screaming and her control had slipped beyond the point of reining it in.
“Sarah, you’ve been through an ordeal.” Saafir’s gentle, soft tone made her feel more out of control.
“Yes, I have. Several ordeals. And in almost every case, I’ve failed.” She buried her face in her hands. Even as tears fell, she was angry at herself for breaking down. All her life, she’d had herself to depend on. She was strong and fearless and let problems roll off her shoulders. She’d never had a father or mother she could count on. She didn’t have someone waiting at home for her to share her problems and her day with.
“What about you?” she asked, studying Saafir’s calm expression. “You’ve stayed in control. You don’t get upset. You don’t lose it.” She needed to feel like someone else was shaken by the events like she was.
“Of course I get upset,” he said quietly.
“You don’t look upset,” she said. Couldn’t he lose his temper and yell? Smash something? Throw something?
“I’ve been trained not to outwardly react to problems.”
“Even when someone you care about is injured?”
Something flashed through his eyes and Sarah knew she’d hit on a sore point. She shouldn’t have mentioned Adham, but she wanted Saafir to respond.
“Are you speaking of you or Adham?” Saafir asked.
She threw up her hands. “Adham. I don’t expect you to care about me. Why should you? You’re engaged.”
He winced. “I care that you are injured. I already explained that I almost lost my mind thinking of you with a gun aimed at you. I’ve explained about Alaina. You seem so upset about her, but I don’t know why. I don’t even know her.”
It was the first time he had spoken her name. Alaina. A beautiful-sounding name for a no-doubt beautiful woman. Sarah was tapped into her emotions enough to know she was spoiling for a fight, needing to pour off some of the excess anger and hurt and fear boiling inside her. That the person on the receiving end of her emotions was a sheik wasn’t important. He was the closest friend at the moment.
“I care about you, Sarah. Of course I do. I have from the beginning.”
His words took the edge off some of her anger. “I don’t know what we’re doing.” Having a brief affair? Using each other for sex?
“I thought I made it clear.”
He’d made nothing clear. Every time they were together, lust ruled her. Being in the same room with him meant she lost the will and desire to say no. To acknowledge that she was falling for him, really falling for him, scared her. “I don’t feel clear.”
Saafir looked away and then returned his gaze to her. “When you were in danger, nothing would have stood between you and me. I would have killed that man for touching you and for hurting you. I can’t imagine what you are going through and I think the fact that you haven’t completely shut down proves how strong you are. My resilient and strong goddess.”
Saafir moved so fast she almost didn’t have time to respond. He pulled her across his lap, clasping her against him. “What we’re doing is making the most of every moment while we can. Does that answer your question?”
Though the action felt rooted in a protective emotion, Sarah felt desire overrule every other emotion. “You’re making me forget the question.”
Saafir touched the side of her face. “You are so beautiful. Let’s run away together. Let’s pack up and leave.”
Sarah closed her eyes. An island vacation. A spa. A private yacht. All things likely at the emir’s disposal. “If we leave, when we return, we’ll have the same problems waiting for us.”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is you. You’ve been through a lot. I’ve seen men, strong men, under pressure who snap.”
“I won’t snap. Besides, I have a wedding tonight.”
Saafir lifted his brow. “A wedding?” He had a face and a body that could make her forget about her work, her life and her friends. But what would she do when he returned to Qamsar? Pick up the pieces of the life she’d dropped in order to spend time with him? She had to keep together the little she had left.
“A job I took months ago,” she said.
“You need a break,” Saafir said.
“Speak for yourself,” Sarah said.
“What will happen when you finally deal with what’s happened to you?” Saafir asked.
Sarah stared at him. Her answer wasn’t a deep one. If he wanted introspection and philosophy on life and the human psyche, she was in no mood to go there. If she looked too deeply into how she felt, she wasn’t sure she could handle it. “I don’t have time for a breakdown. I have a business to run and clients to keep happy.”
“I am one of those clients.” He gave the conversation a light overtone and that quickly, some of the knots of dark emotion unwound inside her.
“Do you have a complaint about my event-planning abilities?”
He let out a deep laugh. “No complaints about your event planning for the trade agreement. I do have a complaint about your private event planning. What will it take to get a night alone with you?”
“If I recall correctly, you already had that,” Sarah said.
Saafir laughed again. “I’m a spoiled man and I like getting what I want.”
“Are you saying if I don’t acquiesce to your demands, you’ll pursue me relentlessly?”
Hearing voices in the hallway that could signal the FBI’s arrival, Sarah slid off his lap onto her chair.
Saafir groaned. “You didn’t have to move. I was enjoying that.”
“In America, commoners aren’t supposed to act like this in formal situations,” Sarah said.
Saafir gave her a sideways look. “In Qamsar, royals aren’t, either.”
For a fleeting moment, Sarah thought of his fiancée. She forced those thoughts away and locked them up tight. Their past relationships and their futures had no place in this moment.
“Then we’ll find a place where we can be informal together. The wedding will be over by 2:0
0 a.m. I can meet you after.”
Saafir pressed a kiss to her mouth that promised passion and pleasure. Sarah was surprised when he released her. “If you think after today I’d let you out of my sight, you are sorely mistaken. I am coming with you to the wedding. Don’t Americans take dates to weddings?”
Discomfort dulled her excitement over the prospect of a late-night rendezvous with Saafir. “I don’t bring dates to the events I plan. You’ll steal focus.”
“No one will know I’m there,” he said.
“After the news day we’ve had, they’ll know.”
“I’m coming with you. As we’ve discussed, I like getting what I want and I always get what I need. This is something I need.”
A woman in a crisp white shirt entered the room and introduced herself as Special Agent Lucia Huntington. She looked between Saafir and Sarah. “Are you ready to get started? I have a lot of questions.”
* * *
Seeing Sarah in her element turned Saafir on the same way it always did. Sarah was smart and passionate about her work. Even with the curious looks she was getting from the other staff hired for the wedding, Sarah ignored them and focused on her tasks.
Saafir wanted to keep Sarah close. He was worried about her and her safety. If she lost her cool, he wanted to be her soft place to land. If someone came after her again, he would protect her. Since her small breakdown earlier in the day which he had somehow handled, Sarah had held it together.
They’d stopped at her friend Molly’s place, and Sarah had changed into a borrowed green gown. It fit her well, accenting the curves of her body he loved so much. While he watched her work, Saafir made some calls to have a private shopper acquire some items for Sarah. Since her home and clothes had been destroyed and they had been living in hotels, he hoped it would buoy her spirits to have some new things.
Saafir took a seat on the far side of the large white tent that had been set up for the event. He was curious to know more about an American wedding. In his country, marriages were large, multi-day celebrations involving hundreds, possibly thousands of people. He counted about fifty chairs at this event. His guards were keeping themselves hidden well, though Saafir knew they’d be watching him and Sarah.