Identity Crisis (Blood Brothers #4)

by Manda Mellett

  Although dinner was described as casual, I don a smart suit in readiness, and when Nessa descends the stairs I see she’s also dressed up, and for a moment my breath is quite literally taken away. She’s wearing a knee length flowing dress in a shade of olive green which compliments her skin tone, and the way it’s nipped in at the waist emphasises her curvy figure. Her wavy, shoulder length hair has been pulled back in a sparkling clip, and glittering drop earrings complete the picture, combining to emphasise her rounded face. She’s used some makeup to cover her freckles, a shame in my opinion. As she walks past, I get a waft of a musky perfume.

  She looks utterly gorgeous, and once I’m able to breathe normally again and have my semi-erection under control, I’m proud to take her arm and lead her across to the palace. As we pass one of the full-length mirror panels in the foyer, I can’t fail to notice what a striking couple we make.

  I’ve spent a lot of time in and around the Palace of Amahad over the past few years, so have become somewhat immune to the almost decadent surroundings. For Nessa, however, it’s a new experience. Her little sighs of appreciation as we pass through the formal areas don’t escape me and, while I’ve become used to seeing the odd Rembrandt and Constable lining the walls―originals of course―she has to pause to look at each one. Until I remind her we need to get a move on, as we shouldn’t be late. Wide eyed she walks alongside me, her mouth dropping open as she takes in the sights. Grinning I explain to her everything here that appears to be gold, is gold. Door handles, taps, decorations. The Amahadian country is extremely wealthy and isn’t ashamed to advertise the fact.

  The palace guards, stationed at intervals, are intimidating to the newcomer. Armed traditionally with functional scimitars in their belts, they now also sport shoulder holsters and guns, many carrying automatic rifles. Although Kadar has largely overcome the initial objections to his succession to the throne, there’s always a constant threat both within the country and externally and, of course, the ever-present risk of terrorist activity. Unfortunately, nowadays the latter is an issue wherever you happen to be in the world. Hence the necessity for the well-trained and highly vigilant palace guard.

  Eventually, we arrive at the emir’s private quarters, and once the guards announce us, our escorts leave us to enter alone.

  It’s not quite a year since the previous emir, Sheikh Rushdi, died unexpectedly. As he was only in his early sixties, his heir, Sheikh Kadar, came to the throne many years earlier than he had foreseen. At the beginning, he’d tried to emulate his father who’d held a tight rein over the country. But gradually, and with the help of Zoe, his English wife, he’s developed his particular style of leadership, commencing with a plan to implement a form of government which would have the ability to temper the dictates of the ruling sheikh. Kadar is on the journey to become his own person, no longer attempting to be a clone of his revered parent. But the burden of being in control of a country that’s only just hanging on to stability remains a heavy one. There is no doubt that Zoe grounds him, but he remains an austere and aloof man to most. When we enter the room, I’m not surprised to be greeted with formality, and as I feel Nessa falter by my side, I know she’s left in no doubt that Emir Kadar is equivalent to a king.

  However, knowing the man beneath the robes, I ignore his distant façade and move forward grasping his hand firmly in mine. Kadar had led the team comprising his army as well as Grade A associates when Zoe and I had been rescued six months earlier, and his quick actions to summon medevac had saved our lives. Had he been any later I’d have bled out on the sands.

  Zoe smiles at us from beside her husband, and, in the presence of her partner, I greet her politely, but can’t resist bending over and kissing her cheek, while casting a sideways glance at Kadar. His jaw tightens, but he says nothing. He won her, after all.

  A touch on my sleeve brings my attention back to my companion, and I take it upon myself to make the introductions, “Nessa, can I introduce you to Emir Kadar, and of course, Emira Zoe, who you met earlier. And,” I give a chin lift to the man across the room. “Sheik Nijad. You, of course, already know his wife, Cara.”

  Nessa squeaks a ‘pleased to meet you’, and I see she’s overwhelmed by the elevated status of the four people greeting us. Making a mental note that she’s not exactly exuding the confidence that an operative of Grade A should, I place my hand on the small of her back and encourage her across the room to the dining table set for six. It’s a pleasant room, part of Kadar’s personal suite, rather than one of the formal public areas of the palace, but still with rich furnishings that could leave no one in any doubt they were in the presence of royalty.

  Nijad throws off his headdress, the Arab gesture of informality, and Kadar follows suit, suggesting they are planning a relaxed evening, a meal amongst friends. Then the former, noticing what she’s doing, glares at his wife and growls, “Cara, habiti. Can’t you put that laptop down for one moment?”

  Completely unabashed, she smiles coyly, “I’m waiting on some info for Sean, Ni.”

  After trying to stare her down, he throws up his hands as if knowing he’s beaten, then leans over and places a kiss on the top of her head, a sweet, loving gesture. I can’t hold back a grin. Despite the understated, but to the initiated, plainly a collar of ownership around her neck, Nijad is obviously only a Dom in the bedroom and dungeon, Cara has him wrapped around her little finger the rest of the time.

  Kadar tuts at the tender exchange, and then addresses me for the first time, smirking, “You seem to have got yourself a small problem,” he begins, unable to help himself chuckling as he holds his hands about eighteen inches apart, reminiscent of Cara’s gesture when she first asked me about Mollie. “About this size, I understand?” Now a louder laugh, “Sean Cooper, a father? Never would have believed it.”

  Nijad’s joined in the laughter; the women don’t seem to find it so funny. But then, being surprised with a baby is the pinnacle of misfortune for most men. It’s not the first time, and won’t be the last, that I’m the butt of this particular joke. Shrugging it off, I grin along with them.

  As if a switch was thrown, Kadar’s face grows serious as he addresses the reason why we’re here. “I hope we can help you find the mother, although I understand she might have got herself in trouble of a different sort.”

  Now he turns to his brother, but his eyes are fixed on Cara, “Nijad, please ensure Cara understands that she’s to leave no trace of what she’s been doing. I don’t want to know the details.”

  Cara grins, and waves her hand in the air, “I’m here, you know.”

  Nijad places his hand on her head as though to still her, “Cara knows this is her ‘fix’, and will have to last her at least another year.”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh, knowing he’s referring to what they call Cara’s ‘hacking habit’. Her amazing ability to get into almost any computer system is a compulsion for her, and she’ll jump at any opportunity to use her noteworthy skills. But her position in Amahad now means such addiction could be risky, and if she was discovered, could bring disrepute to the country. Her over-confidence had, in fact, already gotten her into trouble, but she’s learned from it by tightening up and now leaves no footprint that can be traced. Or so I hope, feeling a little guilty that this time she’s doing it on my behalf.

  “Have you been to Club Tiacapan, recently?” Kadar asks conversationally, as we take our places around the ornately carved table.

  “I used to go regularly, although my leg put paid to that for a while. But I went last weekend.” I pick up the linen napkin, unfold it, and place it on my lap.

  “It’s been some months since I was there, but Jasim tells me it’s doing well.” His, and Nijad’s brother, Jasim, part owns the club along with Jon and Jason Deville.

  “It’s the safest club in London, so there’s a waiting list for membership.” As I assure him the club is indeed a success, servants appear, silently bringing in plates of delicacies, placing them on the table.

>   “I’d love to go,” Cara joins in. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard so much about it. Nijad is going to take me next time we’re in the UK. Now Zorah is a little older, we can travel.” Zorah is their beautiful daughter. Quickly doing a calculation in my head, I realise she’s probably only a couple of months older than Mollie. I glance toward her as she continues, “Jasim was telling us about some of the new equipment he’s had installed, and I can’t wait to try it out. Tell, me, is the suspension rig as good as he makes out?” She turns to Vanessa, and asks, “Have you tried it, Vanessa?”

  Chapter 15

  Vanessa

  I hadn’t known what I could expect would be considered polite dinner conversation with the eminent emir, his younger brother, and their wives, but the one topic I didn’t foresee was a frank discussion about BDSM. I suppose as their brother owns Club Tiacapan, it’s not surprising that Nijad and Kadar would also be Doms, but to openly discuss those appetites with their dinner guests? And now Cara is directing a question to me, as if it’s perfectly natural to assume I partake in the same activities. When my face glows and goes blank, she rephrases it, obviously out of kindness, making sure I don’t feel excluded from the exchange.

  “I understand the rig takes up one whole wall, what do you think of it?”

  I know I sound several octaves higher than normal when I have either to respond or look stupid, so simply offer, “I don’t go to Club Tiacapan.”

  “Oh?” Kadar throws Sean a look, and then I’m the victim of his intense gaze. “Where do you play, then?”

  “Nowhere!” I wish my voice would return to normal. I turn to Sean, wanting his support, but he’s openly grinning. “I’m er, not interested at all in BDSM.” Liar!

  The emir seems perplexed, “Sorry, my dear, I was certain you were Sean’s sub.” Again, his gaze turns to Sean, and he raises his eyebrows.

  Forcing my tone back to something closer to my normal range, I toss a glare in my partner’s direction, and calmly tell Kadar, “I’m Sean’s work colleague. I’m here as his backup.”

  At that comment, Sean chokes on his mouthful of wine, and I feel like running from the room and bursting into tears. What the heck? So what if I’ve forgotten to set the security system when leaving or entering the house, and does it really matter I’ve gone unarmed through the streets of this foreign city? A stunned silence greets my pronouncement, and just as I’m going to open my mouth and blurt out something stupid just to fill the void in conversation, a gentle hand rests on my arm.

  “You’re a Grade A Close Protection Officer?” Zoe regards me with something akin to admiration, and while I retain some suspicions about her relationship with Sean, at this moment I’m extremely grateful to her.

  “Yes, I’m fully qualified, but only recently. This is my first field assignment. I’ve been working behind the scenes for Grade A for about six years.”

  “And she’s very good at it!” Cara breaks in, throwing me a winning smile. “We’ve put out heads together this afternoon and have come up with some leads. Vanessa’s ideas were extremely helpful.” She waves at her laptop, seemingly always by her side, “The result of which is what I’m waiting on now.”

  Her interjection seems to have brought the conversation back round to safer topics. Safer for me, that is.

  For a while, we all concentrate on eating the delicious food that’s been placed in front of us, and thankfully no more mention is made of BDSM. When Kadar speaks again, the focus is, at last, removed from me.

  “So, how do you feel about being a father, Sean?” Kadar throws out the question, but his gaze falls lovingly on the stomach of his very pregnant wife.

  Shifting awkwardly in his seat, Sean takes in a deep breath. But before he has time to formulate a reply to the difficult question, Cara’s laptop pings. Dropping her fork to the table, she opens it, receiving a glare from her husband who’s apparently also her Dom. Ignoring him, she eagerly opens the email that’s just popped into her inbox, and her eyes light up with excitement. Interpreting her expression, I see she’s received something interesting.

  Flicking her eyes at me, she gives a slight nod. I raise my wine glass at her in a triumphant toast. The others look on curiously, waiting until she’s finished reading. Then, at last, she enlightens us all.

  “Found her!” She announces with a flourish, her hand forming a fist and pumping the air. “She’s had the audacity to turn up at our Casino in Paris!” I know the ruling Kassis family own several casinos around the world, as well as the one in the home country. “And, for once, she’s using an approximation of her real name, Danielle Martin.”

  “She’s got a nerve!” Nijad barks incredulously, as he flicks his long, dark hair back over his shoulder.

  “She wants to be found,” Sean comments softly. “Martin is akin to Smith in England; it’s the most common surname in France.”

  I realise something, “Only by you. She’s been using aliases across the other countries, and she used a different name here as well.”

  Cara’s nodding, “Yes, here she used the name Maggie Saltwell, it’s no wonder you didn’t recognise it, Sean.”

  Kadar’s all business, his brow furrowed as he asks, “Is she playing her tricks in Paris?” I get the impression he’s wondering how much she’s costing his casino.

  But Cara gives an adamant shake of her head, “She’s staying relatively clean, she’s card counting, but that’s not illegal. Unlike card mucking.”

  The emir growls, and puts down his cutlery on his now clean plate in a rush, “But it’s still cheating.”

  “How long has she been in Paris?” Sean’s fingers tap quickly on the table, obviously anxious for details about the woman he needs to find, rather than what’s she’s up to.

  “She arrived yesterday. She’s staying in the casino hotel.”

  “How the hell did you find her?” Nijad is the one who’s interested now.

  With a glowing smile at her husband, Cara responds before I have a chance to speak. “Facial recognition software.” She points at me, “It was Nessa’s idea to start searching in the obvious places.”

  Sean’s ruminating on something; his head is bowed, resting on his hands. Idly I wonder whether his mother had ever told him it was rude to put his elbows on the table, if so, it hadn’t sunk in. Just then he looks up, “She didn’t want to be found when she dropped Mollie off, so why make it obvious now? Why turn up in a Kassis Casino with a fake name it wouldn’t have taken long to discover, even if we didn’t have geniuses like Cara and Nessa on our side?”

  Suppressing a glow at the implied compliment, I shrug, “Perhaps she doesn’t intend to stay long. She was either going to have gone to ground or hide in plain sight. Nijad’s right, she might simply be toying with us, thinking we’re not clever enough to find her. But my feeling is she’s bringing herself to our attention. There’s something she needs from Sean. That’s why I thought we should search in places she’d be visible.” I’ve often found following my gut feel brought results. Sometimes it wasn’t all about thinking logically.

  “It’s a funny way to go about it.” Kadar pronounces, “If she wants help, why not pick up the phone and call?”

  Nijad’s brow creases, “Maybe she wanted to meet on neutral ground, force you to go to her. Whatever she wants, she’s playing games, Sean. And don’t forget she’s a wanted criminal.”

  “But it’s only Cara who’s put all the pieces together and knows she’s behind the crimes the police in different countries are looking at as individual cases.” Sean frowns, “Nonetheless, I agree with you, Nijad. Nessa and I will be out of here tomorrow morning; we need to get to Paris before she disappears again.”

  My life has gone from predictable and dull, to jet-setting around the Middle East and Europe in just a few days. But I’m not going to complain, and while I’m not too fussed about seeing Sean meet the mother of his baby, if I’m honest, there’s part of me that’s intrigued to meet the mysterious Danielle. Hopefully, we’ll catch up
with her, and I can see for myself what sort of woman abandons her own daughter. And discover what particular trouble she’s in. Apart from being wanted by several police forces, that is.

  “I’ll get the casino manager to keep an eye on her, Sean. We can make sure she stays put by force if necessary.” Nijad offers helpfully.

  “If she’s cheating I want her out of there as soon as possible!” Kadar keeps to the subject closest to his business mind.

  “I don’t think we should scare her off, brother,” Nijad tries to calm his brother, “Play it low-key until Sean gets his chance to have a heart to heart.”

  Zoe hasn’t spoken for a while, but now she places her hand on her husband’s arm, Kadar visibly relaxes and turns to her with a smile. “We owe Sean a lot, Kadar.” Her softly spoken words remind all of us Sean received his injuries trying to protect her. And as the emir turns his full focus of attention onto his wife, his love for her beaming from his eyes, I know what I’m missing and just how much I want a man to look at me in exactly the same way.

  Chapter 16

  Sean

  As Zoe asks Kadar to give me more time I throw her a grateful look, knowing she’s exaggerating my part in her rescue. Sure, I had tried to protect her, but the odds had been too great, and all I got for my pains were bullets in each leg to take me out of the action. The emir’s wife is one of the strongest women I know, and I don’t believe she owes me anything. It was only the good timing of the arrival of Kadar’s men and Grade A that means she’s here today. Still, if calling in a favour from Kadar means I get to catch up with the mother of my child, I’ll resist protesting her generosity and refrain from correcting her.

  I wait impatiently to hear what Kadar decides, my good leg bouncing under the table. He’s a businessman as well as a politician after all, and I understand how he won’t want any one of his corporate enterprises to lose money. By card counting, rather than the outright cheating Danielle used in other casinos, including the one in Amahad, she’s staying just the right side of the law as far as gambling is concerned, if not with anything else. She’ll probably be on a roll with winnings which have been won dishonestly, but she’s not doing anything she could be prosecuted for.