by Kalia Lewis
Katarina! A rising swell of dread caused her belly to flip over. No-one had called her Katarina since she was six years old – nearly twenty-two years ago. The feeling of being pissed off over finding herself trussed up like a turkey was pushed aside by the force of her fear. Only a handful of people knew who she really was.
"I'm going to take the cloth out of your mouth so that you can speak, but I warn you, the second you shout out, I will put the cloth back in. Nod if you understand."
She nodded. The voice that had spoken was the same deep baritone that she'd heard from the man in the garden at the wedding. If he was cautioning her, then perhaps their location was public enough to be heard by others if she yelled out or screamed. Of course, if they were in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere, then she'd be out of luck, but she had to try. "Help! Someone please help me!" she called out as the cloth was removed, but the dryness of her throat made her voice sound flaky and feeble.
"I did warn you."
She could feel someone’s warm breath on her face. It was heady and musky. Instinctively, she wanted to lean in closer to its source. Even in this dire situation, she had a feeling that there was something safe about the man's presence, which completely threw her mind into overdrive. 'Tied-up' and 'safe' really didn't belong in the same context.
The cloth was crudely put back in.
"Uonofaookingitch!"
"Okay, we'll try again. I don’t take lightly to defiance, Miss Katarina. The sooner you do as you're told, the quicker I can make you more comfortable."
There was her name again. This time he spoke to her in a no-nonsense voice, but it still didn't come across as threatening. It sounded resigned, as if he didn't want to be doing this, but somehow he had to. She turned her head into the breath that was once again fanning her face. The cloth was pulled out.
"Now, I'm going to take off your blindfold and offer you some water to drink. Nod if you would like that?"
Idiot! As if she was going to shake her head!
She nodded anyway and tried to lick her dry lips at the thought of tasting water. The sound of him sucking in his breath made her pull her tongue back in and a period of intense silence followed. It was as though he was weighing her up and inwardly debating whether or not he should allow her to see him. "Please, I'll be good," she pleaded.
His sigh breezed over her face and cool fingertips touched the back of her head as they undid the blindfold. The brightness of the overhead lights prevented her eyes from flying wide open. Blinking slowly, it took her a while to adjust to the glare, but once they did, her gaze immediately landed on the male form standing in front of her. Tall and powerful with a muscular outline - all finished off nicely with a cautionary look on his face. Oh, she remembered him all right. "Mr. Hot Bollywood?" she whispered.
He gave her a quizzical look. "It's Tariq," he replied with slight humour. "Here, drink this slowly."
"Oh yeah, Tariq," she murmured. Tingles fluttered down her spine as she felt him palm the back of her head with one hand and bring the glass to her mouth with his other hand. Sipping at the cool water, she couldn't take her eyes away from his penetrating gaze.
Putting the glass on the side table, Tariq took a step backwards and sat opposite her in a cream leather seat. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and linked his fingers under his chin. After months of careful planning, how he dealt with her in these next few minutes would lay the foundation of their future relationship. It was a delicate situation. After abducting her from the wedding, he knew that she might never trust him, but many lives rested upon the decisions that she would make from this point on. Thick, long blonde hair fell heavily across her shoulders like a waterfall and sharp topaz blue eyes were lit up with acute awareness as she examined her surroundings. She was simply exquisite.
"Are we on a plane?" she asked.
"Yes." He waited for her response, knowing that before this flight was through, her whole life would be altered.
Katie was now furious. "What the heck am I doing on a plane? Where are you taking me? Why am I tied up? I’ll have you reported for this! Thrown into jail! Hell, I’ll even have you castrated if you dare to come near me!"
"Have you quite finished with the temper?" he asked her sharply. The kidnap itself had been necessary. Option one had given her the chance to come willingly, but she'd refused, so option two had been executed. It was a risk he'd been willing to take, although the fire spitting at him from her eyes did give him cause for concern. There was no room for making any mistakes.
Katie was appalled at his words. Temper! I'll give him temper! "No, I've not even begun, and as God is my witness, I’ll be the one doing the castrating! And I will enjoy it you son-of-a-bitch! You can’t go around kidnapping helpless women from a wedding! What are you, some kind of weirdo?"
Now he had the audacity to chuckle.
"Is this funny to you? Is a tied-up, helpless woman something to laugh at?" She struggled against the binds again. "Can you at least untie me?"
The smile fell from his face. "No, not until I know you won’t be a danger to me or to yourself."
She sighed wearily. "I’m not exactly going to throw myself out of a moving plane am I?" If she could just get free from these ropes then maybe she could get herself into a better bargaining position, preferably one where she could take him down with a knee to his most sensitive parts and then run to find a parachute!
"You just threatened me with castration, Katarina Turan, so until I explain myself to you, I would prefer it if you remained where you cannot do any damage." He waited for her response and wasn't disappointed to see her eyes widen and her lips form a perfect ‘o’.
The air stilled around them and she was almost afraid to ask, "How do you know my full name?"
"I know all there is to know about you." A shrewd smile spread across his face, causing a pink blush to creep up her neck and into her cheeks.
"What, as in, know everything? Or just know a bit of everything?" Surely he didn’t know about her parents, her whole life and about any boyfriends she’d ever had?
"Everything…"
Now feeling at a disadvantage, as she knew nothing about him, she pursed her lips. "Well, I go by Katie Sharpe now, so please stop calling me Katarina Turan." This whole scenario was way too peculiar. The kidnapping alone was enough to make her hyperventilate, but how exactly did he know all this about her, and more importantly, why?
"No. Katarina is a beautiful name. It means 'purity'," he said softly.
How dare he? "Excuse me," she scoffed. "I know what it means, but you don’t have any say in the matter and I won’t reply to that name." It was time to get some answers. "Anyway, what's all this about?" Turning her head slightly, she could make out a ginormous-sized man standing behind her in the far doorway, armed and ready for action. This was not just a plane, it was a private jet. "Just exactly who are you? I mean, I know your name, but what’s with Mr. Pump Iron Bodyguard back there?"
Tariq got up from the seat and poured himself a glass of water from the bar. Just exactly how much should he tell her? Planning something in your mind and the reality of doing it were two different things. This situation was now precarious. Not just from kidnapping her, but in the way that she was physically affecting him. There were no precautions to take to avoid his instant attraction to her, but he also knew that she could come to hate him before these next few weeks were through.
Bringing the glass to his mouth, he caught her watching him from the mirror on the wall above the bar. There was something he wanted her to do and the reward for doing it was priceless. A little flutter of guilt rolled in his gut. The decent thing to do would be to give her the one thing she probably wanted more than anything else in the world, but he needed her to help him first.
Katie stared at him as he sipped on his water. His white shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his muscles as they flexed in his lower arms. Beautiful, she thought, like a lithe cat. She wouldn't mind running her hands all over his back.
The train of her thoughts shocked her and she shook her head disbelievingly. Here she was, tied to a chair on a jet to God knows where, thinking lustful thoughts about her captor. The oddity of it all was that she didn’t feel intimidated. There was a deep knowing that he wouldn’t actually hurt her.
Putting down the glass, he spoke to her through the reflection, "I am Sheikh Tariq el-Tayeb, owner of the el-Tayeb oil refineries in the south east of Yemen and owner of the island Socotra. And you, Katarina Turan, are here to help me."
Inside, she was reminded of that quiet moment before the storm. "Help you? How exactly am I going to help you?"
Turning slowly, he looked deeply into those troubled blue eyes and smiled before adding, "By taking some much needed photographs."
Bam! Just like that, memories came flooding into her brain of their conversation at the wedding. He'd requested her photographic services to help him take some pictures of a group of Somali pirates that were using his island as a refuelling stop for stolen ships. Not just any ships, oil ships that in fact belonged to him.
It had been tempting, but she already had too many unfinished commissions, so she'd politely turned down his offer.
Not easily deterred, he'd told her that in exchange for her assistance, he had some valuable information about her parents.
The shock from him bringing her family into the conversation had made her want to forget just how gorgeous he was and flee from his side, but he'd apologised and told her to forget he'd said anything. It had unnerved her, but she'd decided that any information he had could never undo the past, so it probably wasn't worth listening to. Taking a glass of pink champagne from him, she nodded to him in her acceptance of his peace offering.
That’s it! The pink champagne!
"You drugged me!" she spat at him accusingly.
He raised an eyebrow. "So, you're beginning to remember? For the record, you were only given a mild sedative." When she'd turned him down, he knew then that option two had just come into play.
Of all the cheek! "You’re an arrogant piece of shi –"
"Stop it with the foul language, Katarina! When I asked you for your help it was not quite a request. More like an appeal with very little room for it to be refused."
"So, you just decided to kidnap me and do what? Force me to take pictures for you? Are you nuts? Do Annabelle and Tristan know about this?" She was hoping for a look of self-reproach, but he stood up straighter and stared her right in the eyes.
"They know that I’ve ‘borrowed’ your services."
She laughed hysterically. "That’s one way of putting it."
"I won't hurt you if that's what's worrying you."
It was said so very quietly, but something important was niggling away at her. Cocking her head at him, she tried to remember a question he'd asked her at the wedding, but it was eluding her. "Tell me, Tariq, how do you plan to pull this off with an unwilling photographer by your side?" The smile he gave her sent a shiver of warning down her spine.
"You won’t be an unwilling photographer?"
Confusion buzzed in her brain. "Oh and why’s that?" she asked.
"You’ll be an unwilling wife."
Now she remembered the question.
Chapter Two
The sound of her laughter rang out around the interior of the luxury jet. Katie couldn’t believe his boldness. "You may be able to kidnap me and hold me on this plane against my will, but there’s no way you can force me to say, 'I do.'"
Tariq smiled pleasantly at her before nodding a signal to Mr Pump Iron Bodyguard. Then he knelt down in front of her. "Just hear me out, okay?"
She scrunched her eyes at him in distrust. "Okay."
"My ships are being taken by the pirates as they leave Yemen. Many ships coming from the north use Socotra as a refuelling stop before moving along the coast of Africa and into Europe, but mine are the most targeted for theft."
The close proximity of his body made her stomach jolt and her heart beat just that notch faster.
"Do you know what happens to my men once the pirates board the ship?"
She shook her head and breathed in his scent as he leaned in even closer. The intensity of the swirling chocolate colour of his eyes made her lick her lips. They looked like two big round Maltesers.
Fascinated, he watched her tongue for a moment as it slowly lubricated her bottom lip. "They take them down into the bowels of the ship..." What he was about to say next brought his eyes sharply back up to hers and he wondered whether or not to go on, but he felt compelled to make her see how serious his problem was. "Some are raped and most are tortured before being killed."
The intensity of his words caused a ripple of outrage to move through her. "Why would they hurt and kill innocent men?"
"For money, for power," he replied sadly. "But, what they destroy more than anything is families, and you know how that feels, don’t you?"
A surge of deep grief hit her hard in the chest. "Yes," she whispered.
"On the last ship that was taken as it left Yemen, one of my men survived and when they landed on Socotra, he escaped. What he told me has led me to take the drastic action of having you here as my guest today."
Katie smirked at him. "I wouldn’t exactly say you’re the most gracious host I’ve ever encountered."
Tariq gave her a small smile that spoke of such sorrow. Katie suddenly yearned to reach out and run a finger down his face. At the wedding he'd held such humour in those eyes and right now she’d do anything to bring that humour back. "So, how does having me as your wife and taking pictures help you?"
Tariq looked into the depth of those oceanic blue eyes. They were now open and genuinely enquiring. "I have reason to believe that my younger brother and sister-in-law are the instigators behind the Somali pirates."
She gasped, "Your brother?" The idea that someone close to you could be responsible for the deaths of innocent people was unthinkable to her.
"Yes, and if you come into the family fold, we will stay with them on Socotra as part of our honeymoon trip, giving you access to his wife, who is the real power behind my brother."
"And the pictures?" she asked breathlessly.
"If I can prove their involvement then I can deal with Hassan and Amira through the right channels. At the moment I only suspect them, and so I cannot speak of anything until I hold the proof."
Now knowing the full details of why he'd kidnapped her, she was moved to help him, despite the fact that she was still tied up, but she had a request that needed to be addressed. Clarity right from the beginning was important if they were going to work together. "This marriage of ours, I want it in name only. Once the job is done, I will need to ask you for a divorce or an annulment."
"Ah, yes, about that." He gave her a worried look.
"What about it?" A siren was going off inside of her head. Please don't say no. There was no way she was taking on a marriage that she couldn't get out of.
"My family come from a long line of important Sheikhs and it's frowned upon to divorce, so I won't be seeking to end the marriage. For you to initiate a divorce under Sharia law by khula would be very difficult, as you would need to prove my sexual inability, neglect or cruelty, and I won't give you any grounds for those to happen."
"Frowned upon? Difficult?" she choked out.
He ignored her choking and continued, "But, once the job is done, I will seek to have it annulled if nothing sexual has taken place and if you declare yourself to still be a virgin." He winced, as if getting ready for her reply.
Disbelief laced her voice. "A virgin! If you know everything about me Tariq, then you’ll know I’m no virgin."
"Yes, during my research that little point did reveal itself, so under the circumstances of not being able to obtain either one of those, I have a proposition for you?"
"What? Another one?" she retorted as she once again struggled against the binds on her wrists. "I won’t agree to anything or answer any further questions until you untie me."
&nb
sp; "Okay," he said softly. Instead of standing up and going around to the back of her, he leaned forward and put his arms around her, bringing his face a mere inch from hers. Not taking his eyes off her, he touched her wrists to undo the thin ropes while watching her eyes widen in awareness of his close proximity. The chemistry between them was unmistakable. Perhaps his next proposition wouldn’t be too bad after all.
Katie breathed him in, pure male. Every hair on her body stood to attention and she could quite easily allow him to close the tiny gap between them and kiss her. If he'd been anyone else she would have said a firm 'No thank you', headbutted him and hijacked the plane, but he was Tariq, all testosterone, sexual chemistry and so very hot. The mild sedative had evidently addled her brain.
The binds fell to the floor behind her with a thud and her exhausted arms dropped to her sides. She sighed in relief, but he didn’t move out of her space.
"We won’t be able to divorce and I won't stand in your way if you want to live a separate life, but you won’t be able to remarry. I can promise you though that you'll always be well looked-after."
He was so close that if she slipped out her tongue, she could run it along his lips. "And what if I meet someone else and want to have children?" she enquired lightly.
A funny feeling sliced through his gut. "I can give you children!" he protested. The thought of her having children with someone else was not an image that he wanted to entertain. If they were to do this, he wanted to be the one who gave her everything, including any children. Why go elsewhere when the chemistry was so right between them? Unless of course she was holding out for love, and he wasn't sure he could give her that. Sex yes, but love was a whole different ball game.
She laughed at his objection. "But I don’t love you and maybe I won’t want them with you." Her belly gave a funny flop at the vision of a little boy, a complete miniature of Tariq.
Now scowling, as her words had just confirmed his thoughts, clearly, there would be no offspring between them without love playing a part in their conception. Resigning himself to the fact that the probability of remaining childless was high, the only thing left for him to do was to deliver the line that he knew would seal the deal. "If you do as I ask and help me, help my men, you will get to see your father again."