by Kay Thorpe
And then Kahlil stood, and Lucy knew there was nothing left for either of them to say. The talking was over; only desperate action was left to her now.
‘There may even be another contract for you,’ he murmured pensively.
Still business! Did he think of nothing else? ‘Don’t trouble to invent work to keep me here, Kahlil. I don’t need your charity.’
He made a light, surprised sound. ‘I was talking about paid employment.’
Remembering a tender lover, as well as agonising over where that lover had gone, were no help to her now, Lucy told herself firmly. That man had vanished, leaving Sheikh Kahlil of Abadan in his place. And she would need money very soon if she was to escape. She had brought very little cash with her—not anticipating any of this. In this instance she couldn’t afford to be proud.
‘Perhaps an advance in cash on the work I have already completed?’
‘In cash?’
‘That would be great—’
‘Where would you spend it? You can have everything you and Edward need charged to my account.’
Bought and paid for? Lucy thought angrily. No chance! But she clamped her mouth shut, determined not to say anything that would harm her cause. It was far better to let Kahlil think she was content with her lot, and with the arrangements he had made for her. She decided to ignore his personal offer to finance her, and keep to the safer option of what was properly owed to her.
‘Perhaps part of what I’m owed could be paid into my account back home, and I could receive part in cash here,’ she said casually, to deflect his suspicion. ‘I would like to do some shopping—for Edward and for myself. It would be good for both of us to leave the confines of the palace, and I’d like to see the town.’
‘Very well,’ Kahlil agreed. ‘That doesn’t sound unreasonable.’
She must feel the palace was oppressive, Kahlil conceded, and if she did, chances were his son did too. The Golden Palace was his home; he loved it. But he could see that for Lucy it held quite different associations. It was time for him to show he could be merciful. He would ease the restrictions a little in order for her to see Edward’s future home in a different light.
‘There is a shopping mall in town, a short drive away. I could take you.’
Lucy’s heart sank, and her throat was so dry she had to force out the words. ‘I couldn’t trouble you—’
‘It would be no trouble,’ Kahlil assured her. He thought at once of introducing Edward to the brash delights of the luxury mall: to ice cream sundaes and toy shops, and children’s entertainers who were employed to keep youngsters happy during opening hours.
‘No, really—a bodyguard would be fine,’ Lucy said, hoping her acceptance of the security measures he’d had put in place would be enough to convince him.
Kahlil made a swift mental reality check. A trip into town for a member of the ruling family was no picnic. Ideally, he should give notice. Extra security would be needed for crowd control; barriers would need to be erected. There would be dignitaries he should meet, walkabouts to perform—none of which would be very much fun for Edward. ‘Very well,’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘I will arrange for one of my personal bodyguards to accompany you. But first let me give you some money—’
‘No!’ Lucy exclaimed without thinking, seeing him reach for his wallet. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘You agreed to an advance on your wages,’ Kahlil reminded her.
Who could tell how much money she might need? Lucy reflected grimly. And not for shopping. ‘OK,’ she said, ‘an advance which I will pay back.’ And she would, however long it took, and from wherever she eventually had to send the cheque.
‘Well, I’m glad that’s settled,’ Kahlil said, moving towards the door. ‘The shops are open until late in the evening. Be ready to leave in an hour.’
Oh, I will, Lucy told herself tensely.
Kahlil saw her to the door, as distanced from her now as if she was indeed an employee, Lucy thought, as she gave him the barest of acknowledgements before leaving—enough for politeness, enough to allay his suspicions. But once he had closed the door behind her and she was alone in the corridor her mind ran with the opportunity Kahlil had unwittingly handed to her. Now she had both the means and the opportunity to escape.
Fisting her hands in triumph, she exclaimed fiercely, ‘Yes!’
Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth—or that was what everyone would think, Lucy concluded with relief as she caught sight of her face in one of the many palace mirrors. Dressed casually, plainly, so as not to attract attention, she was pushing Edward in his stroller down the long corridor leading to the grand entrance.
If the attending servants only knew what she had planned, but fortunately, their mind-reading skills were not as highly developed as those of their master, or they would have stopped her by now. Even so, her heart was thundering so loudly in her ears it muffled everything else. The thought of what she was about to do was terrifying.
Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she took in the crop-haired older man Kahlil had insisted must accompany her. He was a trusted member of the palace security team, and looked sharp. But that couldn’t be helped. She would have to try and find a way to outfox him.
She had to get out of Abadan. It was her only hope. She had to negotiate with the ruling family from a position of strength. She had no alternative but to carry out her plan, regardless of the hurdles Kahlil put in her way.
As the bodyguard loaded the stroller into the back of a Range Rover Vogue, Lucy double-checked the fastenings on Edward’s car seat, so that it would appear natural for her to just slip in beside him on the back seat. That way she could take careful note of every landmark they passed without drawing attention to herself.
Her passport was safely stowed away in her shoulder bag. Now all she needed was the opportunity to take over the four-wheel drive. Then she intended to make for the Embassy and seek sanctuary there with Edward until a flight home was arranged for her.
There were still a few loose ends to tie up on her existing design contract at the palace, Lucy remembered, chewing her knuckles with anxiety, but that couldn’t be helped. Edward’s future happiness was at stake, and their liberty. Nothing mattered compared to that. She would shoulder whatever consequences arose from the breach of contract in a safer environment…repay any money, do whatever it took.
Trying to calm herself, Lucy remembered she was supposed to be watching the road signs as they drew closer to the centre of the town; she had already missed quite a few. Sidelining her other concerns, she made herself concentrate on the direction they were taking. She spotted the flag marking the Embassy and relaxed a little. It shouldn’t be too hard to find again, even if it was dark by the time they left the shopping mall. There were plenty of road lights, and the town centre was clearly marked.
The shopping mall in Abadan was fantastic, and after an hour or so Lucy knew she had never spent money so freely. But beneath the fun of watching Edward clap his hands with delight was the worrying undercurrent of their impending flight. The professional bodyguard wouldn’t leave their side for a moment, and right now she had no idea how she was going to get away.
On their way back to the car park she was ready to try anything. And a risky idea had occurred to her. The buggy was loaded with brightly coloured parcels that Edward had refused to relinquish. She should have insisted that he allow them to be taken away and delivered to the palace, but now his stubbornness, so like his father’s, played right into her hands. There was enough shopping to keep the bodyguard busy loading the four-wheel drive for quite a few minutes.
‘Shall we go back to the palace instead?’ she said to him pleasantly, when he asked her if she would like to have a coffee before leaving. Clearly Kahlil had instructed him to make sure that her every whim was accommodated. And it would be, Lucy determined. But not in the way that Kahlil intended. If he thought he could tame her with a bit of therapeutic shopping, he was wrong.
‘If you’re ready,�
�� her shadow said politely, as he offered to take some of the bags from her.
Don’t try to make a break too soon, Lucy warned herself as she thanked the man for his assistance. Edward was still hanging on to a couple of packages, and she hooked the rest onto the handles of the stroller. Everything hinged on keeping her head.
Fortunately Edward was asleep by the time they reached the off-roader. Waiting until the bodyguard had opened the rear door for her to climb in, Lucy took Edward carefully from the stroller to avoid waking him, and fastened him securely into the baby seat.
‘I’ll fire up the air-conditioning,’ the bodyguard offered, knowing the heat might be uncomfortable once they left the precincts of the shopping centre.
‘Would you?’ Lucy said, hardly able to believe her luck. She felt a moment’s guilt, because the man was so helpful, but, remembering the bigger picture, she hardened her heart. Closing Edward’s door, Lucy watched the man climb into the driver’s seat and start the engine. When he climbed out again to load the remaining parcels she waited for her chance as he pushed the door to. ‘Do you need any help?’ she asked, moving a step closer.
‘No, I’m doing fine,’ he said. ‘You get in—this won’t take a minute.’
‘Oh, no,’ Lucy exclaimed. ‘I’ve dropped something—over by the door. Look—can you see it?’
‘No problem. I’ll get it for you,’ he offered, turning back.
Lucy was in the driver’s seat the moment his back was turned. The boot was still open, but that couldn’t be helped. Slipping the engine into gear, she stamped her foot down on the accelerator, and with a squeal of rubber on tarmac they were on their way, lurching over the kerb and barely missing the bodyguard as he wheeled around, realising a beat too late that he had been duped.
Peering through the windscreen as the Range Rover careered out of the car park and joined the main road, she made an abrupt U-turn across the double carriageway, bumping over the grass verge before heading at speed towards the outskirts of town, where she had first spotted the diplomatic quarter.
She had bargained on reaching the Embassy before Kahlil’s guards could give chase, and certainly long before the police closed the roads. But she would have to stop somewhere soon to close the boot, Lucy realised, glancing anxiously through the mirror. She was already drawing attention, driving at speed with the back of the vehicle wide open. People were hitting their horns and gesticulating to warn her.
She looked back anxiously at Edward, and saw with relief that he was sleeping. Missing all the fun! Except that this wasn’t fun, Lucy thought, forced to brake hard when her flight was abruptly aborted by a traffic snarl-up. She fought to control the Range Rover on the busy freeway as it skidded sideways, and was thrown back when it finally slammed to a halt on the hard shoulder. Gasping for breath, she wheeled round to check on Edward. He was still sleeping. And she could secure the back now.
Taking her chances, Lucy climbed out and quickly closed it up, oblivious to the shouts and horns of other motorists blasting in her ears. Running to the driver’s door, she swung herself inside and cut back into the traffic while she was still slamming the door shut. It took her a few moments to calm down again, by which time she realised she had missed the turning. And now it was dark, and headlights were coming at her constantly. It was totally disorientating—and Kahlil had to know what had happened by now. Time was running out!
‘Damn!’ Lucy exclaimed softly, swerving off the busy dual carriageway by the first exit that came along. If she could work her way back into town, perhaps she could pick up the right road again.
But where was she now? she wondered, gazing around. She didn’t have a clue. There were no streetlights to help her. She looked to left and to right, trying to make a decision. She wanted to head back the way she had come, but by the time she had looped her way off the main road it was impossible to tell which direction she was going in, and because she was in a dip the city lights had completely disappeared.
Totally disorientated, she carried on driving round the roundabout, looking for road signs, looking for anything that might help her. But there was nothing. And two of the exits off the roundabout were blocked by roadworks. That narrowed her choice down to two minor roads, neither of which were lit, or even surfaced properly. She would have to choose one of them, Lucy realised, and trust that it led back into town, or at the very least back onto the dual carriageway.
What option did she have? Lucy wondered anxiously. She would have to stay on the back roads for now, and trust to her sense of direction.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NOW she was on higher ground Lucy could see the lights of the city in the distance. If she kept them in front of her, she knew nothing could go wrong. But there were enormous potholes on the unmade road and she was making painfully slow progress. And then the clouds shifted, allowing the moon to light her way. She saw that the track had narrowed, and there were no turning places if anything came towards her.
After a wide, sweeping curve in the road, the dirt and gravel changed to sand, and a rock face blanked off the passenger window, blocking her view of the reassuring lights in the distance. Reversing back seemed the right thing to do, but when she stopped and looked out of her own window she saw a sheer drop outside the driver’s door. She couldn’t risk it. Not with Edward in the back. She had to press on. She slowed the vehicle to a crawl. Frequent checks showed she was going downhill, and the track was widening out again too. Surely it couldn’t be much longer before she could turn around.
Kahlil’s rage was like a whirlwind, sweeping all before it. His anger was the silent ferocious kind that kicked everyone’s brain into gear in an instant. The helicopters were already scrambled; roadblocks were set up. He had taken no more than five minutes to change into desert gear and grab the equipment he might need, and then the Hummer was waiting for him in the courtyard, engine running, the bodyguard who had accompanied Lucy and Edward sitting in the passenger seat. He would debrief him once they got on the road.
He should flay him alive, Kahlil thought, leaping into the driver’s seat and slamming the door before the servants could get to it, but he had to admit to a grudging admiration for the man. It had taken some courage to return to the palace without either one of his charges. And he was just as guilty of underestimating Lucy Benson himself, Kahlil reflected as he pulled out of the palace gates. He had underestimated her and made the mistake of trusting her.
‘The tracking device is working, I take it?’ he said, dipping his head to look up at the night sky to assess the weather.
All the royal vehicles were fitted with tracking devices—something he could only be grateful Lucy couldn’t know about. As long as it was functioning, and the weather was kind, it would be easy to find her.
‘It is functioning, Majesty,’ the bodyguard confirmed, still professional and calm in spite of his blunder. ‘But the weather reports are bad.’
‘Then we shall just have to hope we get to them before the sand blows up,’ Kahlil murmured, not liking what he was seeing out of the windscreen.
As they approached the shopping mall he said abruptly, ‘Did you see which way they went?’
‘She crossed the dual carriageway and headed towards the roundabout—’
‘Where the roadworks are being carried out?’ Kahlil demanded, and before the man could answer he added grimly, ‘Two of the roads are closed. I only hope she isn’t heading for the desert.’
Silence hung heavy between the two men as the implications sank in. The bodyguard began calling up his colleagues on the radio as Kahlil concentrated on driving, his glance flicking edgily from the road to the screen of the satellite system positioned in front of them. Inwardly, he was raging. She had dared to abscond from the palace with his son, the eventual heir to the throne of Abadan—no punishment was great enough for that.
But any thoughts of retribution would have to wait, Kahlil realised as he noticed the way the clouds were scudding across the moon. The imperative now was to find
Lucy and Edward before it was too late.
‘Which way?’ he said, thinking out loud as he slammed to a halt at the roundabout.
‘I’m sorry—’
‘Sorry?’ he said abruptly, turning to the man at his side. ‘It’s a bit late for that.’
‘The news I have just received, Majesty,’ the man explained, brandishing the receiver in his hand, ‘Miss Benson is heading for the desert.’
Kahlil swore eloquently. ‘Can we still track her?’
‘For the moment. But a sandstorm is blowing up.’
‘Which road did she take?’
‘Towards the border.’
‘Alert the border patrols. Have them converge on the vehicle. The helicopters will have to return to base because of the weather, but we can follow them by road.’
A wave of anxiety washed over Kahlil as the bodyguard busied himself with the radio again. A sandstorm could stop the vehicle dead in its tracks and cover it in minutes. The terrain, already short on landmarks, could be transformed beyond recognition in the same amount of time. Even the most sophisticated satellite communication would prove useless if the Range Rover and everyone in it was buried beneath metres of sand.
Every muscle in his body clenched tight at the thought. She didn’t know it yet, but Lucy and Edward were in very real danger. The desert was merciless, even to those who knew it intimately as he did. But to foreigners, a young woman with a child, probably with no water to sustain them through the heat of the day, and no blankets to warm them during the long desert night, it was nothing short of a disaster.
He guessed Lucy was already disorientated and frightened. He could only hope she had enough sense to find some high ground and park up before the forces of nature took over and hid the vehicle from sight—maybe for good.
The initial adrenalin rush that had accompanied Lucy’s break for freedom had long since subsided. The weather had changed so rapidly, and with no warning whatsoever. One minute she had been driving along on a bright, clear night, with the moon as well as a good peppering of stars to light her way, and the next she was in a total blackout.