That caused Kari to laugh.
Jaycee nodded in a direction away from the press and Kari led the way to a quieter area of the room, holding up a hand to keep the press and everyone else at bay.
“I wonder what happened to all the others,” Jaycee said, her voice now as feeble as the terrified little girl Kari first encountered.
“I don’t know. I only hope they’ve found some type of peace.” Kari took in the tears glazing Jaycee’s eyes and said, “This is upsetting you. Let’s not talk about this anymore right now.”
Jaycee’s gaze shifted to Tony. “That’s your husband.”
“Yes.” Kari beckoned him forward and he closed the distance in a few strides. “Tony, this is Jaycee. Jaycee, Tony.”
The three of them walked toward a wall that displayed images of the smiling faces of people in various stages of giving or enjoying one of the Temple’s services. “I want to be a part of whatever you’re doing,” Jaycee offered. “I don’t go to church. Haven’t set foot in one, and didn’t think I ever would.” She gazed at the people who milled about the room. “I’m still angry with God sometimes. How could he put men like Daddy out there?”
Kari placed a calming hand on Jaycee’s shoulder. “We have a lot to talk about. I asked that same question all the time.” She looked to Tony. “My husband is helping me sort out some of the answers.”
A woman with soft brown eyes, shoulder-length hair that was more salt than pepper, and somewhat recognizable features walked in, scanning the area. She seemed to sigh with relief when she laid eyes on Tony, who left Kari’s side and hurried to meet the woman. Together they looped their way through the people until they made it directly to the space in front of Kari.
For a moment the world stopped and there was no way for Kari to inhale. A tear flowed down the woman’s face, followed by another, then more as she stretched her arms out in hope of an embrace she didn’t appear sure she’d receive.
Finally, Kari was able to move forward and voice one word …
“Mama?”
This was the “special project” he’d been so secretive about? His guilty smile was a dead giveaway. Kari’s heart could barely contain all her emotions.
Tony moved back so he was flush with Sister Aridell, who had walked up to join them as Jaycee and her mother moved off to the side.
“So, it seems that you and Brother Ray are going to make a go of things,” Tony said and didn’t miss Aridell’s answering blush. “Might get you down that altar before the year’s out.”
“I meant to ask … why d’you always do that—the finger thing,” Aridell shot back, deftly avoiding the question but her smile said everything as she kept an eye on the reunion between Kari and her mother. “First Lady holds up seven, you hold up two.”
Tony took his eyes off the two women and focused on Aridell again. “The day Kari came back into the Jamaican restaurant where I worked, she said she only needed a six piece, but she walked out with me too.”
“Okay, tha explains her seven,” Aridell reasoned with a sideways glance at him.
“My two means that all I’ve needed in my life is God and her.” Tony glanced at Kari, who now held up five fingers on one hand, then three on the other.
“Wait a minute,” Aridell said, narrowing a gaze on Tony, then looking back at Kari. “Isn’t that … eight?”
“Yes. Yes, it is,” he replied, smiling as he watched Kari’s lips form the words, “I believe.”
King of Durabia
“You risked your life for my grandson,” Sheikh Aayan said, his voice echoing through the ornate throne room. “Ask for anything and I will see what can be done.”
“Well, to be honest, I haven’t wanted much,” she said with a nervous laugh. “And the only thing I don’t have is a husband. But I’d love to have a place here in Durabia, where I can come and go as I please. If that is at all possible.”
“Done,” the Sheikh said, beckoning to the man who had visited the hospital twice to see about her condition. “Kamran, come.”
“Wait. What?” She laughed and rested a hand on her ample bosom. “An apartment, really?”
“Your new husband,” he answered with a grand gesture that would have made Vanna White proud. “This is my oldest son.”
The man was drop-dead gorgeous. Olive complexion, dark hair, goatee neatly trimmed to perfection, and piercing brown eyes that missed nothing. He was more suited to a fashion runway than a palace. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if it was the tunics, neat beards, head coverings or what. Durabia seemed to have no shortage of handsome men. But the Sheikh’s son was a masterpiece, exuding the kind of confidence that came with a man who was certain of his place in the world. His gaze swept across her face with a complexion slightly darker than his olive tone, then quickly covered the distance over her curves, then his lips lifted in a warm, appreciative smile that practically lit up his dark brown eyes and sent heat straight to places that had been dormant since the Queen of Sheba caused King Solomon to lose his entire mind.
Ellena shook her head, clearing her mind of all manner of wickedness that came after that wonderful assessment. “I think you misunderstood. I was joking about the husband part. The apartment, time share or whatever you call them here, that’s all I really want.”
“You will have both,” the Sheikh commanded with a nod of finality no one would dare to question. “A husband and a place here. My son needs a wife and you mentioned you do not have a husband. Problem solved.”
“But doesn’t he have to give you heirs or something?” She instinctively brought her hands near her belly. “My eggs are old enough to be married and have children of their own by now.”
First, a roar of laughter went up from him. A few moments later, it was mirrored by everyone standing around her. Yes, that line was funny, but the one thing she understood was the unfairness of the situation. At least for Kamran. And that was no laughing matter.
The Sheikh waved away that thought. “That will not be a concern. He is unable to give you or any woman children. And a woman of African descent will never sit on the Durabian throne. We are safe on that score.”
A shadow of sadness flickered in Kamran’s eyes and his skin flushed a shade darker. Ellena tried to read a deeper meaning into his father’s words. She still came up with unfair. “So, you just throw him to a random woman because he can’t give you an heir? He is still a man. He still has value,” she insisted. “A brain, intelligence, and a purpose.” She inhaled, trying to tamp down on her anger. “The apartment is fine, Sheikh. Thank you, but I will not be foisted on a man who has no say in the matter. That’s downright cruel.”
A gasp came from the core of people around them before silence descended in the room. Even Kamran flinched.
The Sheikh’s face darkened with anger as he slowly came to his feet. “Are you refusing—”
“Give me nine days—”
All eyes focused on the handsome man, who left his father’s side and moseyed toward her like some type of Arabian cowboy. All swagger, no gun necessary.
“Give me nine days,” he repeated and moved across the expensive Persian carpet until he stood in front of her, towering over her near six-foot height by three inches of his own. “Nine days for me to show you Durabia, to answer any questions you may have. To let you explore the place, the people, the culture. Then you decide.”
Ellena let out a long, slow breath, because staying here permanently, marrying him, would be a lost cause. She loved her job as a personal assistant at Vantage Point. Alejandro Reyes, a “Fixer” of everything from political and corporate espionage, to terrorist attacks, was the absolute best person to work for. And she loved the predictability of her life. Traveling overseas was the most adventurous event in her life. Still, curiosity won out over common sense and she said, “All right. Thank you.”
“Now we go about the business of getting to know one another,” he said, smiling as though her consent brought him much pleasure. Evidently, he wanted this to happen
and the intensity of his gaze bore into her soul. “So that you can make an informed decision, yes?”
She glanced over his shoulder, taking in some of the envious looks a few of the women tried to hide. “Why are you doing this?” she asked him. “Why are you allowing them to serve you up to some foreign woman as if you do not have value?”
“Because I recognize this is God’s will,” he answered. “And who am I to leave a precious gift unwrapped?”
Her eyebrows drew in, as she tried to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words. The man had a peaceful, confident air but also a playful vibe about him.
“Yes, that was a double entendre.” His smile widened and she could swear the heavens opened up and smiled with him.
Good Lord, I’m in trouble.
* * *
About King of Durabia
* * *
No good deed goes unpunished, or that’s how Ellena Kiley feels after she rescues a child and the former Crown Prince of Durabia offers to marry her.
Kamran learns of a nefarious plot to undermine his position with the Sheikh and jeopardize his ascent to the throne. He’s unsure how Ellena, the fiery American seductress, fits into the plan but she’s a secret weapon he’s unwilling to relinquish.
Ellena is considered a sister by the Kings of the Castle and her connection to Kamran challenges her ideals, her freedoms, and her heart. Plus, loving him makes her a potential target for his enemies. When Ellena is kidnapped, Kamran is forced to bring in the Kings.
In the race against time to rescue his woman and defeat his enemies, the kingdom of Durabia will never be the same.
Sugar Ain’t So Sweet
I will die if I stay here …
Shannon’s entire family sat at the dinner table enjoying a meal which took her three hours to prepare, while she mowed the jungle of their front yard, seething the entire time. She stopped to empty the bag but froze when her mother-in-law’s voice carried from the open pantry window, “I had to fake a damn heart attack to make this stupid heifer get with the program.”
Faked a heart attack? Wait. What?
Monique Hallerin had faked that entire one-month ordeal so Shannan would take over the daunting task of shopping, preparing, cooking, then serving Sunday dinners for fifteen people every week, only to criticize nearly everything that Shannan did. Faked it so Shannan’s husband, Zach, would pick up the slack on her bills. All while her brothers-in-law and most of her children parked their lazy behinds at the dining room table every Sunday and didn’t lift a finger to help. Shannan was way past tired—exhausted was a better word.
“Guests don’t wash dishes,” her husband said when she mentioned they could pitch in with clean up. Well, to be honest, neither did he and he hadn’t been a guest since they’d said, “I do.”
What she should’ve said on the day they were married, fifteen years ago was, “I don’t,” then ran past his overbearing mother and four shiftless brothers then out the church doors to freedom.
“I had to fake a damn heart attack to make this stupid heifer get with the program.”
Shannan, who had seven children of her own, was now responsible for duties that her mother-in-law had done for most of her non-married life; catering to those grown ass men sitting at her dining room table at this very moment while Shannan was outside doing something she had first asked her husband, then one of them, to do.
Rage hit Shannan full force.
She staggered away from the mower, rushed into the house, ran up the stairs and snatched up her tote. She halted at the threshold of her bedroom for a moment, extracting the small shoebox in the back of the closet. A set of credit cards, passport, birth certificate, social security card, and all the hidden cash found its way into the tote. She glanced at the summer wardrobe spilling over into Zach’s side and decided there wasn’t anything she wanted to take. She tipped down the rear stairway into the kitchen, snatched the keys from a hook near the door to put as much distance between herself and those people as possible.
Shannan only vaguely heard the youngest of her seven children call her name. Her heart constricted as she ignored them, tears blinding her as she slid behind the wheel of an SUV that was almost a second home. Basketball. Volleyball. Football. Gymnastics. PTA. Never any breaks between or any time for her to simply breathe.
I will die if I stay here.
Those seven words came to mind, summarizing her current status. Something that first hit her when she had the argument with Zach before his family arrived …
* * *
“No, my brothers shouldn’t have to wash a dish in my house,” Zachary had protested without bothering to look up from the current prosthetics project spread out over the basement. “My mother spent a week in the hospital and she can’t handle it anymore. This dinner is how we stay close. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“The problem is, that it’s all too much,” she replied, putting aside her own work on the latest puzzle she was creating for the daily newspaper to focus more on the conversation that was long overdue. “I’m beginning to dread Sundays. I don’t have any day of rest.”
“Well, if you gave up that job you’ve been playing at then you wouldn’t be so tired all the time,” he quipped.
“I shouldn’t have to give up anything,” she shot back. He’d always considered the six figures she made from being a Master Cruciverbalist—crossword puzzle creator—frivolous. His career as a prosthetist brought in just under what she did. There had been a bone of contention on that score.
“Then it looks like you’re going to be busy.” Zachary shrugged. “You’ll be alright.”
“Wouldn’t have to be so busy if you and the boys helped around here,” she countered.
“My mother raised five boys on her own and never complained,” he said, keeping his focus on the circuitry in his hands.
“And she was on her own because she ran your father off,” she replied. “Let’s be real about that.”
Zachary’s face twisted into a mask of annoyance as he glared at her. “I can’t talk about this with you.”
“I’m done talking. I’m tired,” she snapped. “There’s going to come a time when I say to hell with it.”
Zach paused at the end of the wooden bench, scoffing as he asked, “And where are you going to go? Who’s going to be a father to seven children?”
“They have a father,” she said, and the sorrow of her reality was heavy indeed. “I need a husband.”
* * *
The moment Shannan hit the expressway, she wiped her tears with the back of a trembling hand. A startling thought hit her. She could not leave her baby girl in that house.
* * *
About Sugar Ain’t So Sweet
* * *
Shannan has no choice but to leave her husband, seven children, and a successful career before someone ends up on the wrong side of the grave. USA TODAY Bestselling Author, Naleighna Kai, brings a story of a wife who’s been manipulated by her in-laws and husband for the last time and is finally fed up with everything and everyone.
Shannan overhears a conversation that forces her to walk out on her husband, seven children, and a successful career to find a sense of peace that has eluded her for years. She thought fate had been kind in giving her a husband who adored her. But she soon discovered fate had pulled a fast one, as her husband’s nearly impossible demands and those from his unrelenting family have pushed her to an edge where there might be no return.
Zach has screwed up—royally. With his family following his lead in not appreciating Shannan, his wife shows him that since he can’t respect her presence, she’ll introduce him to her absence. Determined to win back the woman who is his anchor, first, he must find a way to deal with his overbearing family and disrespectful children that doesn’t cause him to lose more than he gains. While fighting to win back his wife, he’s forced to face some hard truths and family secrets that might mean he’ll lose Shannan forever.
Loving Me for Me
; Fourteen-year-old Reign was forced to get up in front of the church and apologize for shaming her mother by getting pregnant. She complied but was angry the entire time. Especially since she was fully aware of things going on behind the scenes. While she still held the microphone, she paused and then ended her apology with, “But I have a question, though. Is it only the girls you want to apologize just because you can see what we’ve done?”
She rubbed her hand over her extended belly as her question drew murmurs of discontent. “Dawn got pregnant and no one asked Mason to come up here and apologize. Alexa got knocked up and no one made Jason say he was sorry. My brothers weren’t made to get up here either.”
The congregation roared with disdain aimed directly at her. Some of them stood, raising their voices in disapproval.
“Now, I know it does not excuse what I did,” Reign continued, holding up a hand to signal they should quiet down because she wasn’t done. “But I’m just saying Brother Harold’s been sleeping with Sister Odessa’s husband for the past two years and everybody knows it.” She focused on the golden man whose face turned a magnificent red. “Oh, and I don’t see Sister Justine and Brother Martin up here apologizing for getting busy in the choir room during rehearsal when the pastor’s wife caught ‘em a few months ago.”
“You just wait a minute,” Brother Martin stood, shaking his fist at Reign. His wife yanked him back down in the pew, then slapped her purse on top of his head nearly knocking him unconscious. Sister Justine left her husband’s side and tried to run from the church. Her exit was blocked by the ushers who seemed to be having a grand old time with all of the skeletons walking out of the closet and running up the church aisle as if the devil was on their heels. One of them, Sister Dorothy, even managed to give Reign the thumbs up sign, so she’d keep the party going.
My Time in the Sun Page 15