Chapter 10
Janna
The last four weeks have passed slowly, my mood swinging between excitement, impatience, and trepidation as I counted the days until I could see Jasim again.
There’s certainly been some changes following our heated discussion and my threat to leave the band. Having hit home hard, Mickey and company have accepted the idea that maybe they have been smothering me, have admitted I’m no longer a child they need to watch out for. While they’ll never back off completely, they certainly have given me more freedom than I’ve ever had before, and while I can see they’re uneasy breaking the habit and lifting their sanctions, they’ve agreed not to stand in my way if I want to go out with a man. And have promised not to give any more Spanish Inquisitions, and leave me to decide who’s right for me.
Which would be great, were it not for the just one slight problem, there’s only one man who I’m interested in. The sheikh who haunts my dreams, the man for whom I play my music. Who consumes all my thoughts, leaving no room at all for anyone else. It may just be a silly infatuation, but as the day approaches when I’ll see him again, I become determined to use the opportunity to blast his invalid objections away.
My age shouldn’t make a difference. An internet search reveals he’s only eleven years older than me, yes, an age gap, but not too significant. My innocence? Well, I’ve got to lose my virginity sometime. And what better way than with an experienced man? I’m not looking for a lifetime commitment. I’m just looking to explore and take further what started that night, when he lay behind me, and I’d felt the evidence of his attraction.
But there’s one big drawback. How do I get a man to notice me when I’ve no knowledge of how to make my interest known? What practical experience have I got of flirting? Absolutely none at all.
My reflection smiles back as I carefully apply my makeup, critically examining the mascara I’ve just put on. The lines I’ve heard the boys use on the girls they pick up won’t work on him, they have a rather more direct approach than any I could use. A woman has got to be far more subtle. But even I know a man’s first turned on by what he sees, so this morning I’m taking care with my appearance, gauging that I’ve been successful achieving the look that I want by the appreciative whistles of rest of the band.
I can’t wait to see Jasim. I wonder whether he’s been thinking about me? As we climb into the taxis that will take us to the airport, guiltily I realise the real reason for us going to Amahad has become lost among my hopes of seeing Jasim and persuading him to take that first step with me. He’d called me a girl. I want to become a woman. With him.
When we arrive in the airport lounge that only the most moneyed people use, I can’t get excited by the amazing facilities there. Instead my eyes search to find him, soon realizing we’d arrived first. Jittery with anticipation, butterflies swirling in my stomach force me to escape to the loo, nerves not about the flight, but about the man I will be meeting for just the third time and who I want to impress. At last, when I exit the facilities my eyes light upon him.
During the weeks waiting for this moment, I’d made myself believe I’d built him up in my imagination, remembered him as being more than he was. But when our eyes meet briefly before he abruptly turns and starts walking away, my pulse beats frantically. He’s even more desirable here in the flesh than as a recollected vision in my mind. So tall, his natural build already putting him head and shoulders above most of the passengers, his carriage and bearing regal, like the prince that he is.
My heart skips a beat, my lungs forget to draw in air, and a tingling runs from my head to my toes. I feel alive. As if I’ve been sleepwalking, and have now woken up.
But he ignores me, as though I mean nothing at all.
I’d prepared so carefully, my dress chosen to be modest, yet show off my curves. My hair carefully braided, my makeup light, but enhancing my eyes. The effect understated, yet flattering. I’d dressed as a woman, not as a young girl. But it had made not the slightest impression on the one man I wanted to impress.
My steps falter, my prepared welcome dies on my lips. As my companions follow him, I make my legs work and trail along behind, angrily wiping a stray tear from my eye. He doesn’t want anything to do with me. How stupid I’d been to dream about him. Of course, he doesn’t reciprocate my feelings. Had I really believed with one glimpse of me he’d understand what he’d been missing? Jeez, how frigging ridiculous I’d been. Berating myself, I climb the stairs after the men.
Oh, I hadn’t thought I’d change his opinion that I was too young and naïve instantly, but it would have started with a few friendly words, and that would surely have given me an opening to my make interest known. He’s afforded me no chance to even speak, he’s offered me nothing at all. He’s acting as if I don’t exist.
And now he’s talking to Mickey and Joe, pointing to the seats down the plane. He’s sitting at a table with them, and there’s no place for me.
Suddenly, a hand is touching my arm, “Hey, Janna. Come sit over here. With me. Hey, you joining us, Sal?”
I’m unable to speak, feeling cold and alone. Following Sunny to the couch she’s indicated, I seat myself beside her, shifting over to clear a space for the camerawoman. I nod to her, not knowing her particularly well, and then turn my attention to Sunny. She’s got herself two men, and I can’t even get one. For the first time, I don’t feel like criticising her. Perhaps she should take all she can get. Life’s too short for regrets. I inhale sharply, and apply that thought to myself, narrowing my eyes, as I glance down the plane. I’m not done yet, Jasim. I want him. I won’t let this stumble at the first hurdle put me off.
“Not like any plane I’ve ever been on.” Sunny’s looking around excitedly at the tables and couches which make it look more like a lounge bar. The furnishings all plush and comfortable, the last word in opulence. Trying to shelve for the moment my thoughts of the man I desire yet who seemingly has no interest in me, but remaining slightly distracted, I simply nod.
“Nor like one I’ve been on either.” Sally’s eyes open wide, and she nods at Blake and Eli sitting on a similar couch opposite. “Squashed up against the seat in front in economy is normally more like it.” Stretching out her long legs, she adds, “Mmm, I could get used to travelling like this.”
“Better get un-used to it,” Blake calls over, his face creasing, “Unless we decide only to work with millionaires.”
“The chance would be a fine thing,” Eli grumbles.
A flight attendant approaches, her uniform smart, a jacket buttoned to the top. “Good morning, ladies, gentlemen. We’re going to be taking off soon, so can I please ask you to fasten your seat belts?” Helpfully, she indicates where the restraints are concealed under the cushions. “We should have a smooth flight today, and I’ll be serving drinks once we hit cruising altitude. If you want to look at the menu, I’ll take your food order then as well.”
She hands over folders with the Kassis family emblem embossed in gold leaf. “Choose whatever you like, the chef is well prepared today. If you prefer something that isn’t listed, please just ask and I can find out if it’s available.”
Moving off to see to the others, she leaves us alone. We all flick open the menus, and I feel my eyes bulge. It’s more what you’d expect from a very expensive high-end restaurant.
“Wagyu beef? I’ve always wanted to try that!” Sunny’s eyes have gone wide.
Beluga caviar has caught my eye, even though I don’t have much appetite, “They don’t do things by halves, do they?”
“Black truffle mushrooms,” Sally’s going down the list of starters.
“Fancy lobster or sushi? They certainly don’t stint on feeding their guests.” Sunny points down at her menu, running her finger down the page, and flicking through the various offerings.
Though I’m still feeling shaken, Jasim’s reaction, or rather lack of it, making me feel like I’ve been knocked off my feet, I smile and put my hand on Sunny’s arm, “Do you t
hink the chef would make me cheese on toast?”
“What?” She turns to me incredulous, “With all this here, and you’re wanting cheese on fucking toast?”
“Okay, I’ll go posh them. Welsh Rarebit.”
She lifts off my hand and pretends to punch my arm, “Be serious woman.”
As she and Sally laugh, I focus on what she said. Woman. She sees me as a woman. Why can’t he? I glance to the front of the plane, where Jasim is deep in animated conversation with the drummer and vocalist. They look like they’re excitedly telling him their plans, he’s just nodding in presumably the right places. Well, Jasim, I’ve got two weeks and sufficient resolve to last for that time. I will make you see me. I’m determined on that.
I think of the costumes I have packed for the vid. Having played gigs for years, I know how to play a crowd, and especially what to wear to turn the male element on. No, Sheikh Jasim, you might not have appreciated my dress today, but you’ll have no defense once I get out my black leather bra and boy pants ensemble, not forgetting my whip and chains. Hmm, I’ve been around men long enough to know not many can resist that. You’ve issued me a challenge. And I accept.
We’re in the air now, the takeoff so smooth I barely noticed. As I watch England fall away beneath us and we start to level out, the flight attendant reappears for our orders. Feeling more composed, I order the truffles and the steak, while Sunny goes for the caviar, and also decides to try the beef. Well, why shouldn’t we take advantage of everything that’s on offer?
While the film crew makes their selections from the mouthwatering choices, my eyes flit again to the front of the plane, Jasim’s facing away from me, but I can hear his deep laugh at something Joe has said.
I’m not going to sit here like an obedient little girl.
Making a quick decision, I undo my seatbelt and stand, stretching to get the kinks out of my neck, tension having made my muscles stiff. I nod to Sunny and Sally who seem to be getting on like a house on fire, and wave to show where I’m going, then make my way along the centre gangway.
There are only three seats around the table, but that’s never stopped me before. I tap Mickey on the shoulder. When he looks up with a smile and pushes his seat back, I plonk down in his lap. Familiar arms come around me, and his chin nuzzles the top of my head.
“Doing okay, hun?”
“Just peachy. Some flight this is, isn’t it? Better than economy when we went to Germany last year.”
“Just a bit.” Joe’s grinning, his appreciation of this mode of travel gleaming from his eyes.
I turn to Jasim, my intention to thank him, but his eyes aren’t looking at me, they’re fixed on the arms that are holding me tight. Now that is interesting. I’ve lived with Mickey since my parents died, he and the other guys are all like brothers to me. The thought of anything sexual between us would be akin to incest. But perhaps Jasim doesn’t know that.
Mickey pats my back, “Here, jump up a moment. I need to take a leak.”
As I rise, Joe holds out his hand, and I relocate onto his lap. A low growl sounds, then Jasim abruptly stands and walks away without saying a word.
“What’s up with the sheikh?” Joe asks, his mouth dropping open.
“I have no idea,” I say, innocently. Hoping the explanation that comes to me is right. Jealousy? I can work with that.
But I don’t get a chance during the rest of the flight. There seems to be an office at the rear of the plane, where Jasim holes up. Hmm. Is he trying to avoid me? He may think he’s won. But it’s only the first round. Game on. There’ll be plenty of time for me to pin him down when we arrive. My interpretation of the signs is that this attraction isn’t all one sided. What other than envy could have made him leave in such a rude way?
The food, when it arrives, is delicious. Even at high altitude, the chef obviously knows how to prepare it perfectly. If I’m right, and Jasim was jealous, that gives me a place to start. I begin feeling happier, and in the end, I’m able to eat so much my stomach is full to busting. The plane droning on, my appetite satisfied, I feel my eyelids drooping. Looking around at my companions, I’m not the only one who overindulged in the unexpected gourmet lunch, nor alone in taking the opportunity to have a doze.
The flight continues smoothly, and at last we’re coming in to land, the change in engine noise alerting me. Looking out, I see we’re dropping toward a runway which appears out of nowhere from the desert beneath us. I’ve been abroad before, but never to a destination as exotic as Amahad. As the plane touches down, the ground shimmers in the heat. Now, at last, Jasim must emerge.
But my plans to renew my efforts to seduce the sheikh on the way into the city immediately come tumbling down.
A stairway is wheeled over into position before the engines are even switched off, and behind it emerges a convoy of vehicles, the first a limousine flying the Amahadian flag. Out of the following black SUVs descend guards in uniform, and a man wearing a more casual shirt and tie, with a visible gun in a holster comes to the foot of the stairs. Outriders on motorcycles sit waiting to escort us. And finally, there’s a large van, presumably to carry our gear.
The stewardess holds us back as we go to get out of our seats, indicating we should allow Jasim to exit the plane first. Watching out of the window, I see the soldiers standing to attention and saluting him, bringing home to me his elevated status in this country. The Caucasian man openly wearing a weapon greets him at the bottom of the steps, shaking his hand, then with his palm on Jasim’s back, leads him quickly over to the limousine, his eyes scanning in all directions as though looking for possible threats. Once Jasim’s safely inside the car, the soldiers seem to relax their stance, and we’re given the signal to descend, and are directed to the other vehicles.
Hmm. We might have accompanied him on his private jet, but we’re obviously not grand enough to be offered the spare seats in his roomy limousine.
Before I get into one of the SUVs, I turn and check Tim and Travis are supervising the transfer of our equipment into the van provided. I’m always anxious when I’m away from my precious guitars. I’ve had the Strat since I first learned to play—a present from my parents—and the Gibson Les Paul I treated myself to a couple of years ago. When I see Tim’s taken charge and is carrying a case carefully in either hand, I relax and get into the car. Okay, Jasim, round two goes to you too. But you can’t hide forever.
It’s not long before we’re heading into what I learn from the commentary of the English-speaking driver is the capital city of Amahad, Al Qur’ah. The sun blazes down from an unbroken sky of brilliant blue, making the white of the buildings stand out as we leave the desert and approach a more built up area. At first, the buildings are squat and obviously residential, and then we’re driving past a colourful souk which I just itch to explore, and after that, more modern office buildings. As we head up a palm tree lined boulevard I crane my head forward to look out of the window as the palace comes into sight up ahead of us. It’s huge, much bigger than I had imagined.
I give Mickey a nudge, “Hey, look at that!”
Joe, sitting in the front because of his extra-long legs, speaks over his shoulder, “Impressive, isn’t it?”
Sunny gives an unladylike whistle.
Rory, Liam, and Ben are in the car behind us, but I suspect they’ll be just as impressed. The film crew are in a third vehicle behind.
Up to this point we’ve been following the limousine, but once we pass through the gates to the palace, it goes on up ahead, and our vehicle turns off and drives around a perimeter road. I sigh quietly, it was never going to be easy, was it? But slowly the thrill of arriving seeps through my disappointment, and I look up in interest as we pull up outside a row of houses built backing on to the high surrounding walls. The driver gets out, and comes around to open the doors.
“This is where you will stay.” I take my first proper look at the robed man who speaks good English, but with an accent. I feel a bubble of excitement as it brings home to
me that I really am in a foreign land.
He’s pointing to the house, and the adjacent one, “The three adjacent residences are allocated to you.”
“Our equipment?” Joe looks around for the van which should have been following us.
“It has been delivered to a storeroom for you. There’s a small hall where you can set up and practice if you like. And tomorrow you will be afforded a tour of the harem. My name’s Ahmed, and I will be your guide while you are here.” He nods back toward the palace entrance. “Feel free to explore the city, just keep to the well-lit areas at night. Al Qur’ah is a tourist destination, so you’ll be quite safe in the main part. There are restaurants, a casino. Everything you could want.”
The driver’s pride in his city goes over my head. I’d only focused on one thing he’d said. The harem. Those provocative sounding words trigger a reaction inside me, as I begin wondering what would it be like for a sheikh to kidnap me and secret me in his own personal hideaway, keeping me for his pleasure. A sheikh called Jasim. Oh shit, Janna. You’ve got it bad.
Chapter 11
Jasim
I successfully evaded her throughout the flight by forcing myself to remain in the plane’s well-equipped office, needing somewhere alone where I could hide the burst of rage that had affected me when I saw her companion’s arms hugging her tight. It should have been me holding her close. I couldn’t let my thoughts betray me, so removed myself from the situation.
I can’t trust myself around her.
At last, the torturous journey and its temptations has ended. Ryan’s waiting to greet me as I step off the plane, and other thoughts thankfully push the woman to the back of my mind. I’m in Amahad and with very mixed feelings about coming home.
While Kadar will have provided security for me, having my own English bodyguard as my companion grounds me, and reminds me I’ve still got one foot in either camp. Jon will have briefed him, and he’ll know my views well, together with my concerns. I know Kadar isn’t my father, but if I’ve been tricked into coming here, if any attempt is made to forcibly keep me in this country, Ryan will get me away. Abduction can work in more than one way. Part of me knows my fears are irrational, but they reflect the intensity of my belief there’s no way I could ever make Amahad my home. However much my brothers might wish me to do so.
Dark Horses: (Blood Brothers #5) Page 10