by Diana Palmer
"I must," he said heavily. "Our court system is even harsher than yours, and we do not play dice with the death penalty. The ringleaders of this plot will be executed if they are convicted, and there will be no stays or appeals."
Lang whistled. "Harsh justice, indeed."
"The old ways are cruel," Ahmed agreed. "Brianna may not be able to accept marriage when she knows my true identity. It is regrettable that I could not tell her the truth from the beginning."
"That was our decision, not yours," Lang said.
He smiled ruefully. "Will it matter, in the end, who decided?" He moved away from the wall. "I will be ready to leave first thing in the morning." He paused, and turned back to face Lang. "Thank you for what you have done. And the others. Whatever they pay you, it is not enough for the risks you must take."
"We get paid enough," Lang mused. "The occasional pot of spaghetti and a bread pudding are icing on the cake."
"You are brave people," he said sincerely. "If your government ever fires you, you will always have a job in mine. I could use such a minister of justice."
"Ouch," Lang said, wincing. "A desk job, for a street man like me? Bite your tongue!"
"Commander-in-chief of the secret service, then." Ahmed chuckled.
"That's more like it, and thank you for the offer. One day I may need a job."
Ahmed leaned closer. "If you continue to put bugs in the bathrooms of unsuspecting people, I can almost guarantee it."
Lang chuckled. "I see your point."
Tad had trouble settling down for the night after all the excitement. He still didn't know what was going on, and he wouldn't rest until somebody gave him an explanation.
Ahmed took Brianna's hand in his while they sat on the sofa drinking coffee from the new pot Lang had scrounged for them. The apartment was furnished, but a coffeepot and coffee hadn't been part of the furnishings.
"Since you were forced to endure the unpleasantness with us," Ahmed told Tad, "it is proper that you know why. There was a coup attempt back home in my country."
"Not Mexico," Tad said with dry humor.
"Not Mexico," Ahmed agreed. "My home is in Saudi Mahara, a country in the Middle East. I have been in this country to represent my people in a contract for several jets from Ryker Air, the company for which your sister works."
"They needed a place to hide him until they could find the assassins who were trying to kill him," Brianna added, still a little shaky from the ordeal. "They thought that having him masquerade as a poor Mexican laborer, our cousin, was a good disguise, since everyone in the office knew that we hated each other. The last place any enemy agent would look for him would be in my apartment."
"You hated each other?" Tad asked, smiling. "Really?"
Ahmed looked at her with tenderness. "I was immediately attracted to her when she heaved a paperweight at my head. It was the first time in my life anyone had dared to attack my person."
"I find that hard to believe," Brianna murmured dryly. "You have a way of making people bristle, you know."
He smiled indulgently. "At times," he admitted. "But when I am at home, it is a crime to attack me."
"Your king must think very highly of you," Tad remarked.
Ahmed sighed. "At times he does. At others, he is rather disappointed in me, I fear." He looked at Brianna. "You have not changed your mind about marrying me?" he asked bluntly. "I saw the books that you brought home to study. There may be things in them that disturb you."
"They won't disturb me enough to take back my acceptance," she said firmly.
"You bet they won't," Tad affirmed, "because I want to learn to ride!"
She glanced at her brother, delighted to see the animation in his face. It made her feel wonderful to see him alert and alive and happy. It was like a miracle.
"Not just yet, however," Ahmed said somberly. "There is something I must tell both of you."
"Oh?" Brianna asked. "What?"
He studied their linked fingers. "I have to go home tomorrow. Alone."
Chapter Ten
There was a flattering look of misery from Brianna and Tad. It didn't really make Ahmed feel a lot better, however. He had no idea how Brianna would react when she knew what would really be expected of her. Marrying a foreign cabinet official might not be so difficult. But he was not that. His life was one of rigorous protocol and duty. Would she be content with such a rigid life? Would she be able to accept it for Tad?
He didn't want to think about it now. "It is only a temporary absence," he assured them. "There are some things I must deal with."
"They've caught the people involved in the assassination plot, haven't they?" Brianna asked perceptively.
He nodded. He stared at his hands. "One of them is my only sister."
She put her hand over his and moved closer to lean her head against his broad shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely.
"Me, too," Tad offered. "Gee, that would be tough. Why would she want to kill you?"
"I am not certain that she did," Ahmed confessed. "I think that it was her husband's idea and not her own. But I must find out."
"You didn't really answer me," Tad persisted, his blue eyes, so much like Brianna's, unblinking.
Ahmed's broad shoulders rose and fell. "The hunger for power creates madness at times."
"But you're a cabinet minister," Brianna began.
"I must make some telephone calls," he said abruptly, glancing at the clock on the wall. "You will excuse me?" he asked formally.
She let go of his hand reluctantly. He was keeping something from her. It disturbed her.
"Of course," she said automatically.
He smiled briefly and left them, going into the middle bedroom to make his calls. He closed the door firmly behind him.
"That isn't all," Tad said. "He's hiding something."
"Yes, I know." Brianna was worried. She didn't want it to show, but it did. "Oh, Tad, I hope this really is the end of the assassination attempts."
They had a quiet supper later that night, one that Lang and the guys provided―huge pizzas.
"This is our favorite food," Lang remarked, passing Brianna another slice. "We live on it when we're on stakeout. We know all the best places."
"You could have offered to bring us a pizza instead of a little hamburger yesterday," the big agent remarked to Lang.
Lang chuckled. "I fell asleep in the booth with half the burger in my hand," he confessed." I guess I went without a nap too long."
"Poor guy," one of the other agents said. "You ought to get a decent job, you know."
"I tried, but only the CIA would hire me," Lang retorted.
Listening to their banter relaxed Brianna, but Ahmed was quiet and subdued. All of them, except Brianna, knew why he was upset. Even his standing would not save his sister's life if she was found guilty of treason. He hadn't told Brianna.
When the agents left, Tad went to bed, leaving Brianna and Ahmed discreetly alone.
But there was a new distance between them. He sat in the armchair across from her place on the sofa, looking terribly remote and sad. There was an aura about him that she remembered from their earliest acquaintance, when he and his entourage first arrived at Ryker Air. She'd thought then that he had a rather regal air, as if his position gave him great importance and he expected everyone to be aware of it.
"Are you sorry that you asked me to marry you?" she asked bluntly, her blue eyes worried.
His fingers idly caressed the soft fabric over the arms of the chair. "No. Of all my recent actions, that is the one which I regret the least. You delight me."
She smiled. "Will you have to be away long?"
He shrugged. "I do not know." He wouldn't meet her eyes. "The leaders of the coup have to be dealt with."
"Yes, of course, but why do you have to be there?" she asked, frowning. "Do the cabinet ministers act as judges in your country?"
He got up from the chair and paced restlessly. "You should study those books," he said, nod
ding toward them. "They will help you understand the way of my culture."
"I'll do that," she said. She smoothed her hands over her jeans-clad thighs. "It should be very exciting, living near the desert."
"It disturbs you, though," he said quietly, glancing at her. "It will mean many sacrifices. Perhaps you will not want to make them."
Her expression was unguarded, and looking at it made him feel wounded. He missed her already. He moved toward her and scooped her up against his chest, holding her cradled to him with his mouth hungry against her neck. "Do not look like that!" he whispered roughly. "I cannot bear to see you so! I am only thinking of your happiness!"
"Then stop trying to push me away," she whispered miserably. "You do it all the time lately."
"Not from choice," he said fervently. His mouth became sensuous as it moved up to her face. "I adore you. I desire you. You are my life―"
His mouth found hers and he kissed her very slowly, with a tenderness that was almost painfully sweet. Her hands traced his hard face, learning its lines, while she fed on the warm expertness of his mouth.
His hands went to her hips and lifted her gently into the changing contours of his body while he kissed her. She began to moan, moving closer of her own accord.
His fingers contracted, pulling, molding, and she shuddered.
He lifted his head. His eyes were glazed with desire, blackly glittering with longings that he could only just control.
"Would you, if I asked?" he whispered huskily.
"Yes," she said simply.
He stared at her swollen lips, her misty eyes. "I want nothing in the world more," he told her. "But I cannot risk the premature birth of our child. There must be no hint of scandal, no question of his legitimacy."
Her head was swimming, but the curious wording caught her attention. "You mean I mustn't get pregnant until we're married?"
He groaned. "That is exactly what I mean."
She cleared her throat. "Oh. I forgot. I mean, your country is much more rigid than ours about a woman's chastity, isn't it?"
"I fear so."
She moved away from him a little and managed a smile. "Okay."
He was trying to breathe normally, and failing miserably. He laughed despite his hunger for her. "Just like that? Okay?"
She colored. "I didn't mean it was easy."
"Nor is it for me," he confessed. "I want you very badly. But we will wait until the rings are in place and the vows spoken."
He bent and kissed her softly one last time. "Go to bed now. It has been a long and fraught day for all of us."
"Tomorrow will be worse," she said quietly. "You'll be gone."
"Not for long, I swear it!" he said huskily. "It will be the most terrible torment, to have to be parted from you even for a few days."
"How flattering," she said with a coy smile. "I'll plan a special evening for your return."
"Not too special, if you please," he returned. "We have our reputations to consider."
She reached up to his ear. "I'll have Lang come and bug the apartment." He made a threatening sound, and she burst out laughing, hugging him close. It was heaven, to be loved and in love. She hoped, she prayed, that it would last. If only there were not this feeling of foreboding.
Ahmed left the next morning, with his entourage surrounding him and Lang bringing up the rear. He and Brianna had said a quick and uncomplicated farewell before they left the apartment. He'd taken time to hug Tad, as well. But in his expensive suit, surrounded by his own people, he looked foreign and unfamiliar.
"He's elegant, isn't he?" Tad asked as they watched out the window. Ahmed climbed into a big white stretch limo with two of his henchmen, and Lang got into the front seat with the driver. They drew a lot of attention from people on the streets. It didn't matter now, the danger was over. Brianna hoped it was, at least. She was still worried about Ahmed going back to his own country safely.
"Yes, he's very elegant," she agreed.
"I think we're going to like living in Saudi Mahara," he said. "Is there anything in those books about it?"
She shook her head. "It's very small. They mention that it has a king, and they give some impossibly long Arabic name for the royal family, but little detailed information. It isn't what I expected," she added. "They're a pretty modern country, with industry and a structured society, and women are fairly liberated there. They're very European, in fact."
"All that oil money, I'll bet," Tad said. He sat down. He was weak, still, and tired easily. Brianna had telephoned his doctor the day before to make an appointment for today. The experience they'd been through had been upsetting, and Tad wasn't his old self yet.
"You have to see Dr. Brown at one," she reminded him.
"Do I have to?" he moaned.
"It's just a precaution. You aren't long out of the hospital. And yesterday was pretty shattering."
"Ahmed saved my life," Tad told her. "The bullets hit where I'd been sitting.
Gosh, I hope nobody tries to do him in when we go to live with him."
"So do I, Tad," she said sincerely.
They kept his appointment with the doctor, who pronounced him well on the way to recovery.
Monday, Brianna went back to work, leaving Tad with an off-duty nurse―Ahmed's suggestion―and she spent her free time worrying about Ahmed. He'd telephoned twice over the weekend, but the conversation had been stilted and brief, and she felt inhibited trying to carry it on. He seemed to feel the same. His speech was more formal than she'd ever heard it.
The distance between them had grown so quickly, she thought. And Monday, he hadn't telephoned at all by the time Brianna had cooked supper and cleaned up the dishes.
Tad was skipping over channels looking for something to watch, while Brianna worked halfheartedly at crocheting a doily for the coffee table.
"Wow, look at this!" he exclaimed, pausing on one of the news channels.
Brianna looked up. There were uniformed men on horseback and some sort of procession in a Middle Eastern nation. At the center of the pomp and circumstance was a man in a military dress uniform with a blue sash of office across his chest, sitting on a throne while foreign dignitaries were presented to him.
"Why, that's Ahmed," Brianna exclaimed. "Turn it up!"
Tad did, very quickly.
"...looking very fit following an assassination attempt. His sister, the princess Yasmin, has been detained for questioning for some time. There is doubt that she was involved with the plot. Her husband's trial was brief and he was executed this morning. Questioned about the fate of the other conspirators, a spokesman for the royal house of Rashid said only that they were being dealt with."
The picture flashed off the screen. Royal house. Rashid. Ahmed, sitting on a throne.
Tad saw the expressions chase across Brianna's face. His own had gone pale.
"He's not a cabinet minister," Tad said slowly. "He's the king of Saudi Mahara."
Brianna's hands trembled and the crochet thread dropped in a tangle to the floor. King. He was the king. No wonder he'd been so well guarded. No wonder he expected people to jump when he asked for anything. He was a king.
"Do you think he really meant it, when he asked you to marry him?" Tad asked, putting her worst fear into words.
"How could he have?" she declared. "He's a king! He wouldn't ever be allowed to marry a woman from another country. ..!"
"The king of Jordan did."
"Many years ago―" she faltered "―and under much different circumstances. This... this changes everything!"
She got up and ran into her bedroom, closing the door. She collapsed onto the bed, tears running hot and copiously down her cheeks as she acknowledged the truth.
Ahmed had been amusing himself. There was no other excuse for it. She had been a diversion while he was forced into hiding to escape being assassinated.
The telephone rang when she was a little more composed. She went into the living room, shaking her head when Tad answered it. He got the
message at once, punctuated as it was by her red-rimmed, swollen eyes.
"Yes, she's... she's fine, thanks. Yes, so am I." Tad sounded nervous. It must be Ahmed. There was a long pause. "Of course. I'll tell her. Sure. You, too." He put down the telephone.
"He said to tell you hello. He wanted to know how we were. That's about it." He grimaced. "Oh, sis, I'm sorry!"
She bit her lower lip, hoping that the pain would help stem the tears. "Me, too." She got control of herself again. "Is that all he said?"
"Yes. I don't think he knew we'd seen the broadcast. He didn't mention it."
"That was a BBC feed," she said. "He probably thought it was being shown in England instead of here, if he saw the cameras." She went to pour herself a cup of coffee. It was cold. She grimaced and put it in the microwave to heat up.
"He didn't tell us," he said.
"I know." She glanced at him. "Maybe he didn't know how," she added. "It must have been very hard for him, trying to live like a normal person when he was used to servants and luxury."
"I've never seen a king before," Tad said, trying to lessen the sad atmosphere.
"It will be something to tell my friends when I start back to school, won't it?"
"Yes."
"You didn't take it seriously, did you?" he asked worriedly.
"Me?" She forced a laugh. "Don't be silly. I liked him a lot, but then, I didn't really want to have to live in some foreign country and learn another whole way of life, did you?"
"No." He shrugged. "Well, I would have liked the horses," he had to admit. "And Ahmed was a neat guy to have around. He liked talking to me about science. He knows a lot."
"He has degrees in chemistry and physics."
"Well, that explains it. I'd like to go to college one day," he said wistfully.
She heard the microwave buzz and went to take out her heated coffee. "You will," she promised. Her eyes swept over his pale face. "You're a walking miracle, did you know? I'm so glad that I still have you."
He looked embarrassed. "Yeah. Me, too." He searched her face warily. "You feeling better?"
She nodded. She sipped the hot coffee. "If Ahmed calls tomorrow, I, uh, I'd rather not talk to him. Okay?"