by Morey, Trish
“I heard she helped arrange a marriage, but it didn’t take place.”
“Good thing for me. Rashid was going along with it for business reasons. Honestly, who wants to get married for business reasons? I’m glad he caught on.”
“And the other woman?”
“She ran off with a lover and I have no idea what happened after that. But she obviously had more sense than my future husband. Much as I adore him, I do wonder what he was thinking considering an arranged marriage. I can’t imagine all that passion—Oops, never mind.”
Ella looked away, hiding a smile. She remembered passion with Alexander when their marriage was new. The image of Khalid kissing her sprang to mind. Her heart raced. She experienced even more passion that night. She did not want to think about it, but couldn’t erase the image, nor the yearning for another kiss. Would that pass before he returned?
She had not helped her stance by kissing him goodbye. She should have wished him well and kept her distance.
“If they don’t get the well capped today, they’ll try tomorrow,” Bethanne said, sipping her drink. “And if that doesn’t work, Rashid wants to go there. If we do, want to fly with us? I took the crew down. They spent the entire flight going over schematics of the oil rig. It’s in the water, you know. You’d think with the entire Persian Gulf at their feet it would be easy enough to put out a fire.”
Ella laughed, but inside she stayed worried.
Bethanne was wonderful company and the two them spent the afternoon with laughter. Ella was glad she’d come to visit. Except for a very few friends from the university, she didn’t have many people she saw often. She had wanted it that way when Alexander first died. Now she could see the advantage of going out more with her friends. It took her mind off other things. Like if Khalid was safe or not.
The next morning she took an early walk along the beach. She never tired of the changing sea, some days incredibly blue other days steely-gray. She loved the solitude and beauty. During the day other people used the beach and she waved to a family she knew by sight. Watching the children as they played in the water gave her a pang. She and Alexander never had children. They thought they had years to start a family. They had wanted to spend time together as a couple before embarking on the next stage of family life.
His death cut everything short. She wished she’d had a baby with him. Would a child have brought her more comfort? Or more pain as every day she saw her husband in its face? She’d never know.
When she returned to the cottage, she saw a black car parked in front of the main house. Staying partially hidden behind the shrubs, she watched for a moment. It was not Khalid’s sleek sports car. Was Madame al Harum visiting? Surely she knew her son was gone. Unless—had something happened. She could scarcely breathe. If Khalid had been injured, would Rashid send someone to tell her?
A moment later a man came from the house and got into the car, swiftly driving away.
Ella caught her breath at the recognition. She pulled back and waited until the car was gone before moving. In only seconds she was home, the door firmly locked behind her. How had they found her? She paced the living room. Obviously the maid had not given out where she lived or he would have camped on her doorstep. But it was only a matter of time now before he returned. Maybe he wanted to speak to the sheikh. Good grief, Khalid didn’t know not to give out the information. His grandmother had been a staunch ally, but Khalid was looking for a way to get her to leave early. Had he any clue? Could she convince him not to divulge her whereabouts if her brother came calling again?
He had no reason to keep her home a secret. In fact, she could see it as his benefit to give out the information and stand aside while he tried to get her to return home.
Pacing did little but burn up energy, which seemed to pour through her as she fretted about this turn of events. She had grown comfortable here. She liked living here, liked her life as she’d made it since Alexander’s death. She was not going home, no matter what. But she did not want the pressure Antonio would assert. Should she leave before Khalid returned? If he didn’t know where she was, he couldn’t give the location away.
But she didn’t want to leave. Not until she knew if he was all right. What if the fire damaged more than equipment? Men could die trying to put out an oil fire. She so did not need any of this. She’d worked hard the last year to get her life under control.
Drawing a deep breath, she went to her desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. She’d make a list of her choices, calmly, rationally. She’d see what she could do to escape this situation—
Escape. That’s what she wanted. Could Bethanne help? She could fly her to a secret location and never tell anyone.
Only, would she? And how much would it cost to hire the plane? Maybe she should have sold some of her work to give herself more capital. She had enough for her needs if she was careful. But a huge chunk spent on a plane trip could wreak the financial stability she had. Did she have the luxury of time? She could find a bus to take her somewhere in the interior. But not her equipment. Not her studio.
She couldn’t leave that behind. It was her only way to make the glass art that she hoped was her future.
Jumping up, she began to walk around, gazing out the window, touching a piece of glass here and there that she’d made. What was she going to do?
There was a knock on the door. Ella froze. Had he found her already? Slowly she crossed the room and peeked out of the small glass in the door. It was Jalilah.
Ella opened the door.
“Hello,” the maid said. “I came to tell you someone was at the house earlier, asking after you. He said the sheikh had sent inquiries to Italy. I remember Madame’s comments when you first came here to live. She wanted you to have all the privacy you wanted. I told the man the sheikh was away from home and did not know when he would return.”
“Thank you!” Ella breathed a sigh of relief. She had a respite. No fear of discovery today.
But—Khalid had sent inquiries to Italy? Why?
Jalilah bowed slightly and left.
Had Khalid sought to find other ways to get her to leave? Anger rose. How dare he put out inquiries? Who did he think he was? And more importantly, who did he think she was? He couldn’t take her word?
After a hasty lunch Ella could barely eat, she went to the studio, trying to assess how much it would take to move her ovens, bench and all the accoutrements she had for glassblowing. More than a quick plane ride west.
Maybe she could leave for a short while, let her brother grow tired of looking for her again and when he left, she’d return. Only, what if Khalid then told him when she returned. She’d never be safe.
She heard a car and went to the window, peering out at the glimpse of the driveway she had. It was Khalid’s car. He was home.
Without thinking, she stormed over to the main house. The door was shut, so she knocked, her anger at his actions growing with every breath.
Jalilah opened the door, but before she could say a word of greeting, Ella stepped inside.
“Where is he?” she demanded.
“In the study,” the maid said, looking startled.
Ella almost ran to the study door. Khalid was standing behind the desk, leafing through messages. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, the dark beard made him look almost like a pirate—especially when viewed with the slash of scar tissue. His clothes were dirty and she could smell the smoke from where she stood. None of it mattered.
“What have you done to my life?” she asked.
CHAPTER SIX
HE LOOKED up. “Hello, Ella.”
“I mean it. What gives you the right to meddle in things that don’t concern you? You have ruined everything!”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“You sent inquiries to Italy, right?”
He lifted a note. “Garibaldi?”
“If you wanted to know something, why not ask me? I told you all you needed to know. I told you more than I’ve told anyone else
.”
“Who is Antonio Garibaldi?” he asked, studying the note a moment, then looking at her. His eyes narrowed as he took in her anger.
“He’s my brother. And the reason my husband is dead. I do not wish to have anything to do with him. How could you have contacted them? How could you have led them right to me? I’ve tried so hard to stay below the radar and with one careless inquiry you lead them right to me. I can’t believe this!”
“Wait a second. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your family didn’t know you were living here?”
“If I had wanted them to know, I would have told them.”
“How did your brother cause your husband’s death? Didn’t you say it was a car crash? Was your brother in the other car?”
“No. He practically kidnapped me. He lured me to the airport with the intent of getting me on the private jet he’d hired. Only someone told Alexander. He was coming to get me before Antonio could take me out of the country. He crashed on the way to the airport. The police, thankfully, stepped in and stopped our departure.” She looked away, remembering. “So I could identify Alexander’s body.”
She burst into tears.
Khalid looked at her dumbfounded. In only a second he was around the desk and holding her as she sobbed against his chest.
“He had a class. He should have been safely inside, teaching, instead he was trying to come to my rescue,” she said between sobs. She clutched a fistful of his shirt, her face pressed against the material, her tears soaking the cotton. She scarcely noticed the smoke. “He would still be alive today if Antonio hadn’t forced me. Alexander.” She cried harder.
Khalid held her close, her pain went straight to his heart. He’d felt the anguish of losing a woman he thought he would build his life with. But his anger soon overcame any heartache. This woman was still devastated by the loss of her husband. What would it be like to mean so much to someone? He thought about his brother and the woman he was going to marry. Bethanne loved him; there was no doubt to anyone who saw them together. She’d be as devastated if something happened to Rashid.
Khalid knew that kind of attachment, that kind of love, was rare and special. Her husband had been dead for more than a year. Ella should have moved on. But the strength of her sobs told him she still mourned with an intensity that was amazing. The emotions told of a strong bond, a love that was deeply felt.
He had never known that kind of love. And never would.
Finally she began to subside. He didn’t know what to do but hold her. He’d caused this outburst by his demand to know more. Had the man at Bashiri Oil been clumsy in his research? Or was the family on alert for information about their daughter? Was her brother’s involvement the cause of the estrangement, or did it go deeper? Khalid wanted answers to all the questions swirling around in his mind.
But now, his first priority was to make things right with Ella.
Slowly he felt her hands ease on the clutching of his shirt. A moment later she pushed against his chest. He let her go, catching her face in his palms and brushing away the lingering tears with his thumbs. Her skin was warm and flushed. He registered the softness and the vulnerability she had with her sorrowful eyes, red and puffy.
“I did not know making an inquiry would cause all this,” he said. “You are safe here. I will not let anyone kidnap you. Tell me what happened.”
She pushed away and stepped back. “I’m not telling you anything. You tell my brother when he contacts you again that you have no idea where I’m living. Make him go away. Make sure he never finds me.”
“You think he’ll come again?” Khalid asked.
“Of course. He’s tenacious.”
“Why should he come for you?”
“My family wants me home. I want to stay here. If you can’t guarantee I can stay, I’ll have to disappear and won’t tell you where I go.”
Two weeks ago Khalid would have jumped at the offer. He wanted his tenant gone so he could put the estate up for sale. But two weeks changed a lot. He wasn’t as anxious to sell as he had once been. He liked living near the sea. He liked the after dark walks along the shore. He did not want his tenant to leave and not give a forwarding address.
More importantly, he wanted to know the full story of what was going on. How could she be so afraid of her family?
“How old are you?” he asked, stepping back to give her more space.
“Twenty-nine. You know that. What does that have to do with anything?”
“As far as I understand the laws in most countries, that makes you an adult, capable of making your own decisions on where to live.”
“You’d think so,” she said bitterly, brushing the last of the tears from her face. She walked to the window and peered out, but Khalid didn’t think she saw the colorful blossoms.
She rubbed her chest, as if pressing against pain. “Alexander and I were childhood sweethearts. My parents thought we’d outgrow that foolishness. Their words. They had a marriage in mind for me that would probably rival what your mother had for Rashid. Combining two old Italian families, and merging two fortunes that would only grow even larger over the years.”
Khalid frowned. He made a mental note to get in touch with the man at the company who had been doing the research for him. What had he discovered?
“So you and Alexander married against parental wishes. It happens.”
“When they discovered where we were living, Antonio came and said I had to return home. There would be an annulment and the arranged marriage would go forth. I laughed at him, but he was stronger than I was and soon I was in a car heading for the airport. The rest you know. I managed to dodge him at the police station and then hid until I thought he’d left Quishari. Mutual friends contacted your grandmother who offered me a place to live. I’m forever grateful to her. I miss her a lot. She really liked my work, and I think she liked me. But more importantly—she gave me a safe haven. I’ll never forget that.”
“I’m sure she did,” Khalid said, stunned to learn this. Had his actions threatened the haven Ella clung to? He would have to take steps to remedy the situation.
Ella turned and looked at him.
“If my actions caused this, I will fix it,” he said.
“If? Of course they did. No one has ever come here before. Why did you have to ask about me. I told you about me.”
“I wanted to know more. My grandmother never mentioned you. My family doesn’t know about you. What you told me was limited.”
“You’re my landlord—you know all you need to know about me. I pay my rent on time and I have a lease. I don’t trash the place. End of story.”
“I want more.”
“Well, we don’t always get what we want in life,” she snapped.
Khalid stared at her, seeing an unhappy, sad woman. One to whom he’d brought more pain and suffering. It didn’t come easy, but he had to apologize. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “Sorry doesn’t change anything.”
“It lets you know I didn’t deliberately cause you this grief. I said I’d fix it and I shall.”
“How? Erase my brother’s memory? Put up guards so no one can get on the estate? Wouldn’t that also mean no one goes off, either? I had things going just fine until you showed up.”
“Sit down and we’ll get to the bottom of this.” He went around the desk and called Bashiri Oil. In less than a minute he was speaking to the researcher in the office who had been asked to find out more about Ella Ponti. He listened for a solid five minutes, his expression impassive as the man recited what he’d discovered, ending with…
“One of her brothers was in the office yesterday, trying his best to get more information. We know better than to give that kind of information. He accosted people in the halls and in the parking area. Finally we had security remove him from the premises. But I’d watch out—he’s looking for his sister and seems most determined.”
“I, also, can be determined,” Khalid said softly.
�
�True, Excellency. And I’d put my money on you.”
Khalid ended the call.
“It appears the inquiries I had made did cause your brother to return to Quishari. He is staying at the Imperial Hotel. He has made a pest of himself at the company headquarters, questioning everyone trying to locate you. Why is it so important that you marry the man your parents picked out? Surely that was years ago. You said you’d been married for four years, and Alexander has been dead for one. What is so compelling?”
“To further the dynasty, of course. And ensure the money doesn’t go outside the family or the family business—wine. I have a trust, that I can’t access for another couple of years. But my father was convinced Alexander wanted only my money. He was wrong. Alexander loved me. We lived modestly on his income from the university. We were so happy.”
Tears filled her eyes again, and Khalid quickly sought a way to divert them. He was not at all capable of dealing with a woman’s tears. He wished he’d never thought to find out more about the woman his grandmother had rented the cottage to.
“I’ll go see your brother and make sure he leaves you alone.”
She blinked away the tears, hope shining from her eyes.
“You will?”
Khalid nodded, loath to involve himself in her family dynamics, but he felt responsible for causing the problem. “I’ll shower, change and go to the hotel myself.”
Ella thought about it for a moment, then nodded once. “Fine, then. You take care of it.” She turned and went to the door, pausing a moment and looking back at him. “I’m glad you got home safely. The fire out?”
“Yes.”
“Did you find out what caused it?”
“I believe so. We have taken steps to make sure there won’t be another one at that rig.”
“Good.” She left.
Khalid rubbed the back of his neck. He had better get changed and to the hotel before her brother annoyed even more people. Or came back and found Ella.
Ella kept her house locked up all day. She knew her brother. He would not likely be sidetracked from his goal just on Khalid’s say-so. Not that she would buck the power of the sheikh. He could probably buy and sell her brother without batting an eye. And it was his country. His family was most prominent. Antonio would find no allies in Quishari. Served him right. She couldn’t forget the last time she’d seen him. If he had never come last year, Alexander would be alive today.