But, of course, nothing good lasted forever. Eventually Kadir reeled in his line and walked toward her, fishing rod held casually in his hand. “We should head back to the yacht,” he said. “It’ll soon be time for dinner. You will join me, won’t you?”
Cassandra reeled in her own line. “Dinner? Thanks for the invitation, but…” She’d planned on grabbing a can of soup from Lexie’s cabinet. “I should get settled in here. You go ahead.” He smiled at her, and suddenly eating a can of soup in Lexie’s kitchen seemed very lonely.
“Sayyid left here with orders to have a catered supper waiting for the two of us. He was to go to one of the restaurants you pointed out today, the one you said was your favorite. You didn’t mention which dish you preferred, so I asked that he have all of them made available.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “All of them?”
They walked to the cottage, slowly and casually. This village, the cottage, the sea Kadir liked so much, they all had a way of doing that to a person—making them slow down and take deep breaths and relax. Cassandra almost never relaxed, but this was very nice. She hadn’t known that she needed this holiday from her structured life, but apparently she did.
With the fishing gear stowed back in Lexie’s storage shed, where they’d found it, Cassandra and Kadir began the walk toward the pier. For a few minutes, all was well. Kadir asked questions about Leonia and Lexie, and there was no talk of Lord Carrington or assassination attempts or alliances. Now and then he seemed to be about to say something, and then he changed his mind and turned the subject to something unimportant. The weather, fishing, food. All too soon she saw the pier ahead. A small skiff waited, as Kadir had said it would.
On the pier he turned to her, stopping so suddenly she almost ran into him. She stopped short, but not until she’d come so close she could smell the sea spray that had washed over him while they’d stood on the outcropping and fished the afternoon away. When she started to back away, he reached out one arm that encircled her and pulled her close. A strong hand settled at the small of her back, holding her firmly but gently in place.
“No eyes will be watching us tonight, Cassandra. Tomorrow that will change, but for tonight…”
“Don’t,” she said softly.
“I want you,” Kadir said, ignoring her plea to stop before he went too far. “Sex between two adults who are obviously attracted to one another is nothing to be ashamed of. I know why you insist on hiding what you feel, but for tonight—just for tonight—why can’t we take what we want? No one but the two of us ever needs to know.”
A part of her was tempted, more tempted than she’d ever been or ever thought to be. She was drawn to Kadir, but was she willing to ruin her career for a flutter? Was any man worth throwing away years of planning and work and dedication?
As she was wondering, he leaned down and kissed her. No one was around to see, so she had no excuse to draw away. Besides, she wanted the kiss. She wanted the connection.
She wanted Kadir.
His mouth moved over hers, and she slipped her body closer to his. His arms held her close. She slipped her arms around his waist and held on as the kiss deepened. Her response was much more than a flutter, and she considered very seriously taking him up on his offer. There was more here than the desire for a sexual connection. She cared about this man she’d met less than a week ago. She cared very much.
It was Kadir who ended the kiss, taking his mouth from hers. “Say yes, and you won’t be sorry,” he whispered. “I won’t allow you to be sorry.”
The full weight of what she’d actually been considering hit her, and her knees wobbled. He meant something to her, in an unexpected way. But what did she mean to him? Did she mean anything at all? “I can’t. You’re asking me to throw away my job for a…a what? What is this, Kadir? A fling? A one-night stand? A diversion because you can’t yet meet with Lord Carrington?”
“What does it matter?” he asked, more than slightly testy. “Do we have to give what’s happening between us a name of some sort for you to file away in a neat box? Do all your relationships belong in a certain category, and until you know where I belong you’re going to deny me, and yourself?”
She didn’t want to tell him that all her relationships were…him.
“I’m not asking you to run away with me,” he said sharply. “I’m just asking for one night. Just because we’re working together, that doesn’t mean we can’t also enjoy a casual sexual relationship. It’s been a difficult week. Sex will help us to relax.”
It was easy to step away after he said that. She was drawn to him; he liked her. But she wasn’t about to endanger her career for one night. She wasn’t about to throw it all away for casual. “I think you should have dinner alone,” she said sharply as she backed away from him.
“And tomorrow?” he asked, his voice remaining sharp. “Will you once again don a drab suit that does not suit you and pretend that nothing happened?”
“Nothing did happen,” she insisted.
“Pity,” Kadir said. He jumped into the waiting skiff and quickly untied the lines that lashed it to the dock. Before starting the engine, he turned those dark eyes to her. “Call the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and tell them I require another aide for the duration of my visit. One who is more…hospitable.” He glanced to the west, where the sun had already disappeared behind the horizon. “It’s almost dark. Wait here. I’ll send Sayyid back with the keys to the limousine. He will drive you home.”
Speechless, Cassandra watched him steer the skiff toward the waiting yacht. For a few moments she didn’t move at all. His last words had been cruel, and she had not thought him capable of cruelty. Had he only been charming when he’d thought she’d sleep with him? The kissing, the fishing, the smiles…Had they been a part of his attempted seduction?
And what would Ms. Dunn say when she called and requested that someone else be assigned to His Excellency during the remainder of his time in Silvershire?
The skiff disappeared as it rounded the yacht. Maybe there was a ladder or something on the other side of the large vessel. He’d tie up the skiff, climb the ladder—anger took the place of her confusion and hurt, and Cassandra’s attitude took a sharp turn—and choke on his romantic dinner for two.
As she allowed anger—which was much easier for her to manage than the initial hurt—to take over, she realized that she was much better off discovering this crude side of Kadir’s nature now, rather than later. His charm had disguised the seedier side of his nature, and he’d almost had her fooled. Almost. She’d been so close to making a mistake she’d have regretted for the rest of her life.
No way was she going to stand here and wait for Sayyid or anyone else to collect her and drive her back to Lexie’s cottage. She was perfectly capable of walking there, even if she ended up arriving after the night turned pitch black. Cassandra left the pier and stalked to the road that would lead her back to the cottage, glad for the opportunity to walk off some of her anger.
How dare he? It had all been a game to him, one seduction in a line of many, and she’d almost taken him seriously. Tears threatened, but she pushed them away. Al-Nuri didn’t deserve her tears. He was a macho, spoiled, demanding pig. If there was ever a time for her to be the ice maiden Lexie had called her in the past…
She hadn’t taken two steps down the road before a thundering explosion startled her breathless, and she spun toward the ocean as a fireball claimed Kadir’s yacht. Another explosion followed, sending flames into the air and ragged pieces of the once fine vessel into the sea.
She was stunned for a moment, and then the truth hit her between the eyes like a sharp-bladed knife. Kadir was on that yacht.
Unable to control her own legs, Cassandra dropped to her knees and started to scream.
Chapter 7
Cassandra didn’t have her cell phone with her, but as it turned out she didn’t need one. By the time she stopped screaming, she heard the approaching sirens. Of course, everyone in town had seen th
e explosion. Local authorities would take charge, they would search for survivors in the sea and begin an investigation.
She’d seen the explosion, and she didn’t think there would be any survivors for the authorities to find. Bodies, yes, but survivors…no.
She gave a brief and almost hysterical statement to the officer who assisted her from the road. Leonia had a local police force, but it was small and the officers were unaccustomed to dealing with anything of this magnitude. As she watched the authorities scramble to handle the situation, she had one clear thought. A call to Ms. Dunn would get proper investigators on the scene quickly. Whoever had done this must be made to pay.
But no amount of justice would bring Kadir, or the other people who’d been on that yacht, back. It was so unfair, so wrong.
The same officer who took her statement, such as it was, drove Cassandra back to the cottage. He asked her if she needed help, if she needed a doctor or someone to sit with her for a while, but she declined. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to cry some more and scream again, and she couldn’t do that with this stranger, or any other, watching her.
Inside the cottage, Cassandra called Ms. Dunn and passed on the news about the explosion and Kadir’s death in an insanely calm voice. Tears stung her eyes, but she didn’t allow her boss to hear those tears in her voice. Still, apparently the astute Ms. Dunn heard something.
“Cassie, are you all right?” the older woman asked when the short report was completed.
“I’m…” The word fine stuck in her throat. She could’ve been on that yacht when it had exploded, but she hadn’t been. She was safe because she’d allowed Kadir’s less-than-romantic invitation to sway her decision, because she was the ice maiden Lexie accused her of being, because when love had presented itself to her, it hadn’t come in the neat, pretty package she’d expected, so she’d thrown it away. Her knees wobbled, and she was forced to sit on the floor, phone still in hand.
“I prefer to be called Cassandra,” she said in a too-soft voice.
“Of course,” Ms. Dunn replied gently.
Her anger flared, pushing away the confusion. “Sheik Kadir was a very nice man, you know. Smart, funny, dedicated to his country the way we are dedicated to ours. He didn’t deserve to die this way. Whoever Lord Carrington sends to investigate the explosion—the assassination—make sure they’re the best. I want those responsible caught and I want them to be punished.”
“Of course. I would have it no other way, Cassandra.” There was a short, expectant pause before the woman added, “I’m going to send Timothy Little to Leonia tomorrow to collect you.” Once again, Ms. Dunn’s voice was all business, if not quite as sharp as usual.
Cassandra had no desire to see the overly eager diplomatic aide Ms. Dunn offered to send, or anyone else from the office. She wanted—needed—to be alone. “No, thank you. I’m going to stay here for a few days.” There was no way she could return home now, and she certainly couldn’t go back to the ministry tomorrow or the next day as if nothing had happened. Her brain wasn’t working correctly, and her heart was broken in so many ways she didn’t know how it could ever be fixed. How could any man do this to her in just a few days? How could Kadir matter to her so much that his death and the knowledge that she would never see him again devastated her, when in truth she barely knew him?
“Yes, certainly, if that’s what you want, Cassandra,” Ms. Dunn agreed. “Call me when you get the chance. I’d like to know that you’re doing well.”
“Of course.”
When the call was done, Cassandra remained on the floor. Her legs were weak still, so she leaned against the couch and hugged herself with trembling arms. She did her best to ignore the tears that dripped down her cheeks. She needed to call her mother before the news of Kadir’s death began to spread, but…not now. Not yet. She needed to be better composed before she spoke to her mum. For now, she was content to sit on the floor and allow the emotions she’d tried to deny wash over her.
Instead of throwing herself wholeheartedly into what she’d felt for Kadir from the moment she’d seen him, she’d allowed her reservations to keep her at a distance. Even when he’d kissed her, when she’d kissed him, her misgivings had come between them and she’d held so much of herself back. Why couldn’t she be more like Lexie? More bold where men were concerned. More daring. Why did she find it impossible to take even the smallest chance?
If she’d invited Kadir to come into the cottage to share a can of soup, he’d still be alive. He might’ve stayed and kissed her some more. Perhaps on this very couch. He would’ve held her closely, if she’d allowed it. Would she have? She didn’t know, and she’d never have the chance to find out. If she hadn’t been so damned concerned about her career, she would have a warm memory or two of the man who caused her stomach to flutter.
If she’d given in to her feelings, she wouldn’t feel as if she’d thrown away the only man she’d ever loved.
If, if, if. Cassandra lay down on the floor and covered her face with her hands, as if she could hide in that childish way. Shaking, dry-eyed, terrified—she could not imagine that she’d ever have the energy or the drive to get up off the floor.
This was what she’d been trying to avoid in being cautious, and look where it had gotten her. She’d kept Kadir at a distance, she’d maintained her professional attitude—for the most part. She’d done her best to keep him and his flutters at a distance…and still her heart was broken.
Amala ran on the beach, laughing and skipping, as little girls did. Kadir tried to catch her, but he couldn’t quite keep up. His big sister was older than him by three years, and even hampered by a skirt that brushed the sand, she ran faster than he did. Her legs were much longer and even stronger than his own, and she pulled away from him, slowly and then with a speed that stole his breath away.
Suddenly Kadir knew something bad was about to happen. Dark clouds moved in, and the waves grew tall and threatening. Amala pulled farther away from him. He tried to run faster, but instead it seemed his legs wouldn’t move at all.
A wave washed over the sand, grabbed a screaming Amala…and then she vanished, lost to the sea.
When Amala was gone, the wave came for Kadir. He stood there, unable to move or to say a word, while it rose up above him, broke down and swallowed him like a monster made of saltwater. The water was in his eyes, in his mouth, and it tried to drag him down.
He reached out in desperation, but the monster was too much for a small boy to fight and he could no longer breathe….
With a gasp, Kadir reached out. His hand found a ledge of sharp rock. Another wave—just a wave, not a monster—tried to grab him, but he held on tightly to the rock. He blinked the stinging, salty water out of his eyes, and gasped for air. He hurt everywhere. He could barely breathe. And if he wasn’t careful, the next wave might pull him down and down, and there would be no coming back up.
The sky was dark, with nothing but a half-moon to light the waves and the jagged rock. There was a moment, not much more than a second or two, when Kadir believed he was trapped in a dream. But then he remembered.
He’d been about to climb the ladder that would take him on board his yacht when his conscience had forced him to change his mind. True, his treatment of Cassandra would send her away, as planned…but faced with the reality of his success, he didn’t want her to believe that he didn’t care for her at all. He didn’t want her to think he was a shallow playboy who cared only for women who would come to his bed when called.
So he’d turned the skiff around and headed for the pier. He’d watched, in the dying light of day, as Cassandra stalked away from the pier, not waiting for Sayyid as he had instructed her to do. She was angry, rightfully so. All he had to do for his heartless plan to succeed was allow her to continue to be angry….
And then the first explosion had come without warning. Kadir had been blown into the water. The blast stole his breath, and tossed him from the boat as if he weighed nothing. Before he fell into the
waves, something—a sharp piece of flying debris—cut into his arm. The skiff was tossed and broken, and he sank. The other explosion had come as he’d been fighting to find the surface, and then…darkness.
He wasn’t sure how he’d survived. Somehow he’d fought his way to the surface for air, but he didn’t remember doing so. Somehow he’d floated or swum or drifted to this piece of rocky shore—but he had no recollection of making his way here. Perhaps those memories would return to him in time, but then again, they might not.
He had the fleeting and nonsensical feeling that his sister, Amala, who’d been dead for fifteen years, had somehow guided him to the surface. For a moment he was quite sure that the spirit of his sister had saved him from the monster of the sea.
It was with great effort that Kadir pulled himself onto the rock, using his left arm for leverage since his right was unusually weak. He lay back, exhausted and unable to move, while his mind began to clear somewhat.
After a few moments, he asked himself the question. Who was responsible for the explosion? Who had known he would be on the yacht tonight? Who would’ve been able to get word to Zahid that tonight was the proper time and place for assassination? His bodyguards. Hakim and Tarif. The lone photographer, whose name he did not know. The small and trusted staff on the yacht.
And Cassandra.
He didn’t want to believe she could be involved, but she had refused his invitation to join him for the evening—not that he had bothered to make the invitation suitable for a woman like her—and that refusal had kept her safe from the blast.
In truth, anyone might be behind the explosion. Zahid’s followers had kidnapped Mukhtar’s family in order to force the old man to do as they wished. They were not above doing the same again, which meant he could trust no one.
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