When she collected the file on Al-Nuri from the coffee table, she glanced at the photograph that had so impressed Lexie. His Excellency had a nicely trimmed mustache and beard on a ruggedly handsome face. Wavy dark hair barely touched broad shoulders, and his olive complexion was warm. But it was the eyes that drew and held her attention. Bedroom eyes, Lexie called them. Is this literally what a man’s eyes look like in the bedroom? A shiver walked down Cassandra’s spine, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood and danced.
She had no idea what a man looked like in that situation, and at the current rate of her nonexistent love life, she’d never find out.
Cassandra paced in the shade of a hangar. Al-Nuri’s plane was scheduled to land at this small, private airport in less than fifteen minutes.
This new wrinkle was alarming, but she felt up to the task. If she wanted to rise in the ranks, she could not allow any twist or turn to alarm or distress her. If she became the aide who was able to handle any situation—even this one—she would soon be indispensable.
More than anything, Cassandra wanted to be indispensable.
His Excellency, Sheik Kadir, had requested a meeting with Lord Carrington, to take place as soon as possible. For a variety of reasons, Lord Carrington was not yet ready to meet with the sheik. Just as she had been about to leave for the airport, Cassandra had been asked by her superior, Ms. Nola Dunn, to keep the man entertained—no, distracted was a better word—until such a time came that the meeting was desirable for both parties.
Cassandra didn’t know precisely why Lord Carrington didn’t want to meet with his visitor from Kahani just yet, but she did know that something important was going on in the palace. Something to which a woman of her station would not be privy. There was an electricity among those in the know, an unnatural energy that kept them all on edge. Even Ms. Dunn had been edgy.
It didn’t matter. One day she would be privy to everything. One day.
Cassandra knew this assignment could make or break her career in foreign service. For years, she’d studied other cultures and languages in hopes that one day she would be Silvershire’s representative around the world, in places where the small country she called home had never held a position of importance. For now she was a low-level diplomatic aide, but one day—one day she would see the world.
She had done her best to make herself valuable in her present station, hoping to be noticed and promoted. During the latest computer upgrade, she’d stayed late almost every day, making sure everyone’s station was in proper working order, if they asked her to help. They often did, since she was quite good with computers, and always available to assist. When Ms. Dunn’s latest disaster of a secretary had made a mess of her files, Cassandra had volunteered to work on the weekends until order was restored. She was very good at restoring order.
Keeping up with news from around the world was quite important, and was a big part of her job. She had bulging files on all the countries that would be represented at the upcoming Founder’s Day Gala, and she’d shared what she’d gathered with the others in the office. Still, none of the assignments she’d taken on to this point were as important as this one.
She recognized the sheik’s jet as it landed and taxied toward the hangar. The flag of Kahani was proudly painted on the side of the jet. The time of the sheik’s arrival had been a carefully guarded secret, so there was no fanfare, and no curious onlookers clamored for a peek of the entourage. There was just her, and a driver who waited in the parking lot on the other side of the hangar. Cassandra straightened her spine and took a deep breath of air. Not only did she have to assist the foreign minister from Kahani with a fine balance of respect for his customs as well as respect for her own, now she had to stall him in his quest for a meeting with the duke. Too bad Lexie had already left the country. She was an expert at keeping men of all types diverted. Cassandra had never been good at diversion. She was much better suited to directness…often to the point of bluntness. Why be subtle when directly spoken words were so much more, well, direct?
If Lexie was a soft feather of seduction and distraction, Cassandra was a mallet.
The jet came to an easy halt on the runway. After a short pause, the door opened and a stair was lowered. For a moment no one descended. Cassandra’s nerves were none the better for the delay. She’d just as soon get this difficult assignment under way.
A tall, thin man in a severe dark suit was first down the stairs. He studied the area as he descended, one hand held ready over his right hip, where a weapon no doubt was housed in a holster of some type. At a crisp word from the tall man, two others descended the stairway—more quickly and not quite as openly aware. Cassandra stepped toward the jet, and immediately had the attention of all three men. She could see that they instantly assessed her as nonthreatening, but they were prepared for anything. No one answered her smile.
“Good afternoon,” she said, speaking in perfectly accented Arabic. “I’m Cassandra Klein, and I will be His Excellency’s guide during his stay in Silvershire.” She received no response from the men, none of whom was the sheik she had been sent here to meet. Was it possible that he had canceled his appearance and one of these men was his replacement? No, these men were muscle. Bodyguards, no doubt. Kahani wasn’t the hotbed of terrorism some of the neighboring countries had become, but neither was it an entirely safe place. Leaders who worked to bring about change were often endangered, and she imagined Al-Nuri was no exception to that rule.
She heard a soft, deep voice from just inside the jet, and a moment later a man she recognized as Sheik Kadir appeared at the top of the stairs. Another guard was positioned behind him, and she caught a glimpse of two others—not muscle, from what little she saw of them. They were administrative assistants, no doubt. From the top of the stairs, the sheik looked down at her and smiled. Cassandra’s stomach did an unexpected flip. Her heart fluttered. Oh, dear, the man’s photos did not do him justice, not at all. Her smile remained in place, a wooden mask as she gathered her wits about her. Her stomach only flipped because she’d eaten that salad dressing at lunch. It had tasted good enough, but obviously it had gone bad. She steeled her heart against another flutter as the man she had been sent here to meet descended the stairs with the grace of an athlete and the smile of a movie star. Like the others, he was dressed in an expensive suit that fit him perfectly. Unlike the others, he continued to smile.
“What a pleasure to be greeted by such beauty.”
Cassandra hated it when someone, anyone, commented on her physical appearance, when whether or not she was pretty had nothing to do with diplomatic service. But of course, she could say nothing to reprimand the sheik.
Oh, my, those eyes. Bedroom eyes, Lexie had called them, and so close…yes, that description made sense. In a moment of utter insanity her innards began to react again, and an unexpected and unwanted thought flitted through her mind.
He’s the one.
No, Cassandra insisted to herself as she pushed her surprising reaction aside. Aside and down with a vengeance, until it was buried deep. The dance of her stomach, the knot in her chest, it was surely nothing more than the ill effects of bad salad dressing. She couldn’t allow it to be anything else.
Chapter 2
Kadir gave a curt bow to the woman who was waiting at the foot of the jet’s stairway. He’d received a communication days ago giving him the woman’s name, so her gender was no surprise. He had not, however, expected that she would be so beautiful. Though she dressed in a conservative suit, and her shoes were of the sensible sort, and her pale blond hair was twisted back in a severe style that only accentuated her fine cheekbones and large gray eyes, she exuded an unexpected sensuality he could not ignore. The day had not been a pleasant one thus far, so it was surprisingly enjoyable to get lost in her beauty for a moment.
“Excellency,” she said, her voice professional and curt. “Welcome. It’s my pleasure to be given the opportunity to assist you during your stay in Silvershire. A car is waiti
ng.” She indicated the direction of the car with a wave of her delicate hand. “Whatever you require during your stay with us, you need only to ask.”
What he required as a man was very different from what he needed as a diplomat. He’d had little time or opportunity to care for the man in himself these past few years. Unfortunately, that fact had not changed.
“I understand an estate near the palace has been prepared for me and my staff.”
“Yes.” Ms. Klein led the way to the waiting limousine while Sayyid and Fahd collected the luggage from the jet. “The Redmond Estate. Mr. Redmond and his new wife are vacationing in Paris and will not return for several months, and they graciously offered their home. I understand your guard detail has already been informed of the existing security system.”
“Yes. They believe it will be satisfactory.”
Since his yacht was anchored near a small shore town a relatively short distance from the palace, he would be able to slip away on occasion. Living in someone else’s home was often awkward. He preferred his own quarters, even if they were small rooms on a modest but familiar seagoing vessel.
“It’s very kind of the Redmonds to offer their home. Hotels are so impersonal and…” Dangerous, though he did not tell her as much. He did not normally concern himself overmuch with safety issues, but this morning’s incident made it clear that Zahid was determined to remove Kadir from the picture. “Shall we say, they do not have the warmth of a real home. I am most appreciative.”
The limousine was large enough to accommodate his entire party. Four bodyguards, his personal secretary, a junior aide from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and himself. And Ms. Klein, of course. Tension from this morning’s unfortunate episode remained, clear in each of his associates. Kadir did his best not to appear tense with his escort, who would surely take it as a sign of unease with the current situation. As a precaution, his bodyguards searched the car inside and out—and underneath—and they also searched the driver. He saw no need to explain to Ms. Klein that just this morning an attempt had been made on his life.
Once they were settled in the vehicle, and it moved away from the small airport, Kadir turned to his assigned aide and smiled. It was a diplomat’s smile—wide and guarded and touched with hope. “I am looking forward to meeting with the duke. We have much to discuss.”
To her credit, Ms. Klein did not blush. But he read the answer in her eyes, as they all but shut down. That gray, which had been soft as a dove’s wing moments ago, grew ever so slightly harder. Given her profession, she really should be more difficult to read. She was young, however, and had time to develop a more stony expression.
What a shame that would be. He liked the expressiveness of her eyes, even when she was about to disappoint him.
“Lord Carrington’s schedule is quite full at the moment, I regret to say. I’m sure he’s anxious to meet with you, and will do so as soon as is possible. Until then, I hope you’ll be interested in seeing more of Silvershire. It is a beautiful country, and I have a number of activities planned for the coming weeks.”
Kadir had no interest in seeing more of Silvershire—or anywhere else. He would have his meeting with Carrington; it was the reason for this trip. He was not annoyed by Ms. Klein’s answer, however. He would play whatever game she had planned for him.
He had a feeling games with his appointed aide would be quite interesting.
The estate where Sheik Kadir would be housed was an old and dignified home that actually resembled a small castle. It sported stone walls and well-tended gardens, rooms furnished in flawless antiques, servants around every corner and even a small, unused tower. It was very much like stepping back in time three hundred years.
The owner of the estate, Prentiss Redmond, was not titled. His money was new. Well, relatively new. His father had made a fortune in steel and oil refineries. Prentiss seemed better suited to spending money than to making it, and his new wife, who was fifteen years younger than he, would likely be glad to help him spend every dime. Redmond very much wanted to be in with the royals, and that was the reason he’d offered his home for the use of their guests.
The sheik’s bodyguards immediately took over the estate security. They had received information about the household staff and cleared them all weeks ago. None of the servants could be considered threatening. Most of them looked as if they might’ve actually been here three hundred years ago.
Cassandra stifled a smile as Oscar, the ancient butler, led Al-Nuri up the wide, winding staircase. The old man moved very slowly, and with great dignity. The sheik did not seem at all perturbed to be moving at a snail’s pace—and that was a definite point in his favor. While you’d think patience was a requirement of all diplomats, she had met many who had none.
She did her best to once again dismiss the physical reaction she’d had to the sheik when he’d stepped off the plane. Salad dressing, nerves, a virus coming on—it could be any of those things, and she much preferred any of them, even the virus, to the possibility of a strong physical attraction to Al-Nuri. Even though she had, at times, bemoaned the lack of love in her life, when it did come it couldn’t possibly be with a man who lived in a country where women might as well be trapped in the nineteenth century—no, the first century! She was a thoroughly modern woman, with plans for a career. An important career.
Besides, when she experienced that feeling of love her mother had so often told her about, it really should be with a fellow citizen of Silvershire. A quiet and intelligent man—she had never cared for show-offs or comedians—who would support her in her career. And he really should be blond, so their children would all be blond. Logically she knew that setting hair color as a criteria was nonsensical, but she was grasping at straws to convince herself that the man who climbed the stairs ahead of her would not do. The sheik was more than ten years older than she. That was surely much too great an age difference for true compatibility. She mentally listed all the reasons she couldn’t have any sort of physical attraction to the sheik, and it almost worked.
Then at the top of the stairs he turned and smiled at her. It was a truer smile than the one he had flashed at her earlier, and she saw what was surely a hint of the real man in that smile. He was amused by Oscar—by the pace, the uniform, the dialogue as the old butler shared the history of the mansion as they endlessly climbed the stairs. She liked that, that he could be amused. Amused, and kind enough not to hurry the older man along or reprimand him for his slowness or a tale that often rambled.
Cassandra had always prided herself on being all-business. She was the mallet, after all. The sledgehammer. The ice queen, Lexie had called her more than once. It had seemed like an insult at the time, but she could use that quality to her advantage now.
If she found that her resolve was not strong enough, she could always ask to be removed from the assignment. But how would that look on her employment record? “Resigned for reasons of uncontrollable physical attraction to a totally unsuitable man” would ruin her career.
With effort, she returned Al-Nuri’s smile. “Excellency, I’m sure you’d like an opportunity to settle into your new accommodations before we begin our tour of the country. Tomorrow morning we’ll visit the Maitland Museum of Fine Arts an hour before it’s opened to the public. The museum opened just last year, and is quite impressive. You’ll have the rest of the day today to get settled in your quarters. If there’s anything you need…” She was ready to make her escape—at least for now.
“I do have many questions about the current political state of Silvershire.”
Of course he had questions about the prince’s death, the king’s medical condition, the possibility that the duke would soon take the throne. She was prepared to answer all of his questions—within reason, of course.
“After you’ve settled into the estate, we’ll have a chance to discuss anything you find of interest.”
Oscar was continuing toward the suite of rooms that would be Al-Nuri’s during his stay in Silvershire.
The elderly butler was unaware that he’d lost his audience. He was mumbling about something that had taken place in this very hallway, a hundred and twenty-four years ago.
Cassandra locked eyes with the sheik, and she knew very well what he found of interest. Just because she was inexperienced, that didn’t mean she was blind. She steeled her spine—again. If he intended to make this assignment difficult for her, so be it. He would find she wasn’t eager for his attentions, as most women he met probably were. This was business, and their relationship would remain professional.
“Tonight,” the sheik said as he turned to follow a doddering Oscar. “I’m sure dinner here in the estate can be arranged. Eight o’clock.”
Cassandra was tempted to decline the invitation, but this was her job. And no man, not even this one, would make her run.
Kadir received an important phone call from Sharif late in the afternoon of his arrival in Silvershire. Intelligence indicating the location of Mukhtar’s family had been obtained, thanks to a neighbor who had witnessed the kidnapping and had given a detailed description of the driver and the vehicle used. With that information, Sharif had tracked the kidnappers and Mukhtar’s family to a quiet neighborhood just a few miles away from the market. The planning of the rescue operation was under way. There was no indication of whether or not Zahid was in the same location—but it was certainly possible. In the past they had been close to Bin-Asfour many times, but he always escaped, leaving his followers to suffer for his ambitions and his tendency to do violence.
Kadir very much wanted Mukhtar’s family to be rescued, but in truth this wouldn’t be over until Zahid was caught—or killed. No matter how many successful battles were waged, no matter how many soldiers Zahid lost—he always managed to survive. His army could be decimated, and within days he would have a new army. Bin-Asfour was known for his silver tongue, for his ability to convert otherwise sane men to his insane cause.
The Sheik and I Page 2