Sheikh's Blackmailed Love

by Sophia Lynn

  When a trim woman came to inform her that she was now free of her obligation to the country of Jabal and could leave when she pleased, she was so flooded with emotions that she started to weep. The woman left her to compose herself, telling her that a car would be by to pick her up the next day.

  Bailey was in such a state of shock, she could barely process her friends’ good-byes, the hugs, and the well-wishes. They had known she wasn’t going to be with them forever, but all of them expressed regret that she was going.

  “You’ve not had the easiest time in our country,” one older archaeologist said to her. “Do you think you will ever come back?”

  Just at that moment, she caught sight of Dario. Dario, who must have known that the woman was coming to give her the news. Dario, who had not said a single thing to her, who now walked by without looking at her at all.

  “I think a part of my heart will always be here,” she said honestly. “I think that part will never leave. I don’t know, though. I hope so…”

  That was the most honest she could be.

  That night, she sneaked away from the fire. Without thinking about what she was doing, Bailey made her way up the path to the cave where she and Dario had shared so much. When she looked around at the familiar walls, she felt like a ghost come back to haunt her own life.

  The aquamarine pendant was buttoned into the pocket of her khakis. When she was nervous, she would press her palm over it. She could feel the lump it made there now. She had still not gotten up the nerve to wear it.

  For a moment, Bailey wanted to leave it in this cave, a gift to the spirits of the people who had been there and now were only dust on the desert storms. At the last moment, however, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She had so little that she could use to remember this time. She couldn’t give it up.

  She turned to go when she heard a rattle of pebbles on the path. She should have been startled, but it was all very far away. She was not surprised at all when she saw a familiar silhouette in the mouth of the cave.

  “Bailey…”

  “I didn’t mean to intrude on your sanctuary,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

  She meant to brush by him, but he grabbed her wrist, holding her still as she went by.

  “Is that all?” he asked, a thrum of tension in his voice. “After all we shared, is that all you have to say to me? That you are going to go?”

  She stared up at him, shock pushing her closer to her own emotions than she had been in weeks.

  “It is,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. “What more do you want?”

  Her words hurt him, and she felt a moment of vindication before her own grief swelled up, ready to swallow her if she let it.

  “If I talk to you now, it will lead to more. I think we both know it,” she said. “I… I can’t give you any more of me than I have already, not if I want to limp out of here as whole as I can.”

  Underneath the brilliant starlight, she saw his eyes widen. He didn’t let go of her hand, but his grip loosened a bit.

  “Limp? Bailey, it was never my intention to hurt you. That was never in my thoughts…”

  She laughed a little, a harsh and ugly sound.

  “I know. I know. It sounds strange to say, but it almost would have been better if you had meant to. Then I would have someone to blame. At least then, I would know that there was a real villain at work, and a real cause. This… this is somehow more painful.”

  He looked at her, stark sorrow in his eyes, and she couldn’t take it any longer. The last few weeks of not touching him, not talking to him, not kissing him, welled up inside her, and all of that need required an outlet, or she thought she would go quite insane.

  With a soft cry, Bailey threw herself into his arms, and he wrapped her up in an embrace that was everything she wanted, everything she needed. The kiss was like water after crawling through the desert, and his body felt like heaven against hers.

  For a long moment, they lost themselves in the kiss. The only thing in the world for Bailey was Dario. No matter what was going to happen in the future, he had told her the truth when they had first made love. What had happened between them was real. It was more vivid and more powerful than their entire lives away from it

  Finally, she tore herself away from him, holding her tears at bay.

  “I will never forget you,” she said. “I will always love you.”

  She turned from him to walk down the path toward camp. Behind her, she heard him say her name just once, but she didn’t turn around to look back. Like Lot’s wife, if she looked back, she would be lost.

  Instead, Bailey put one foot in front of the other, keeping her eyes down on the path so she would not tumble or slip. Soon enough, she was back to her trailer. Her things were packed up in a neat bundle by the door.

  Her time in Jabal was over, and as she lay down in her bed for one final night of restless sleep, she started to cry.

  *

  The jeep came for Bailey early, when the sky was just turning to a true pale blue and the air was still cool. The driver helped her pack her bags into the back, and she climbed into the front seat. Before the jeep started, she took a swift last look around the camp.

  What she had told Dario last night was correct. She would never forget this time in her life or him, but it was over now.

  “All right,” she said, looking forward. “I’m ready to go.”

  For the first few minutes of the ride, she was lost in her own thoughts, but then the driver made a surprised sound.

  When she looked to where he pointed, she was startled to see that they were surrounded by riders. Dressed in the traditional dark robes of Jabal cavalry, they kept pace with the jeep, their horses as swift and strong as the desert wind.

  As she looked in surprise, she caught sight of Dario, riding a magnificent black mare. His face was calm and intent, and when he caught her eye, he raised his hand in a salute.

  The car soon outpaced them, and slowly the riders peeled off for their patrols. Bailey twisted in her seat to see them, and as they drove for Jabal, she could see that there was still one rider in the distance, dark and determined, and she watched until the dust kicked up and he was gone as well.

  *

  Bailey had two days in Jabal before her flight back to the United States. To her surprise, she was booked into a luxury hotel at the heart of Jabal. There was a bit of culture shock when she saw the modern Jabal after spending so much time absorbed in the country’s ancient history, but something about the bustle and hurry of the city suited her. This was the country that her love called home, and simply because of that, she would always adore it.

  She had vague plans for what she would do when she got back, but her homeland felt strange and foreign, like a dream she remembered from her childhood.

  She knew that if she was smart, she would be looking for jobs and renewing old contracts, but she couldn’t make herself concentrate at all. Instead, she spent her time swimming in the luxurious hotel pool, eating simple meals purchased at the cafe around the corner, and simply waiting for the next thing.

  A day before her flight, however, she happened to catch glimpse of Dario’s name in the newspaper box close to her hotel. She blinked at the headline, and then she fumbled for some change. She had never purchased a newspaper out of a box before, but right now, she was too impatient to look for the same article on her phone.

  She took her paper and went to read it at the cafe. As her lentil soup grew cold, she read the article in shock, a weight like lead in her belly.

  Conservatives highly critical of Sheikh al-Nejem’s stance on historical robbery… al-Nejem coddles criminals, refuses to let them take responsibility… Sheikh al-Nejem’s commitment to Jabal’s history seen as reactionary and crude…

  Apparently, Dario had been less than honest about some things. Her name was mentioned, but in passing, as someone who had been involved as a captive during the Christensen
robbery. As public sentiment against her had dropped, the feelings about Dario had sunk.

  As she read, she felt her entire body start to boil from anger. This wasn’t right. This was completely unfair. She had to set it right.

  Bailey took a deep breath. She was likely going to make things worse if she went off half-cocked. No. She had to be on a plane in twenty-four hours. If she wanted to make her efforts count, she would have to act decisively and quickly.

  Squaring her shoulders with resolve, she reached for her tablet and started to research. Soon enough, she had a handful of names, and she started to make phone calls.

  *

  The desert had always been a place that soothed Dario. When things were boiling in the city, even before his father had grown so ill, he could always come to the rugged peace of the golden sands, the red mountains, and the indigo sky. Where before he could gaze on the natural beauty in front of him and feel as if he truly had his place in the world, now he only looked on it and felt empty.

  He drove his mare until her sides were lathered and heaving like a bellows before finally pulling her to a walk. She would have run her heart out for him, and he stroked her arched neck, murmuring to her that all was well.

  He could not feel it, however.

  The desert was wide and vast. He knew that he would get over this sooner or later, while at the same time understanding there was a part of his soul that was leaving to travel over the sea.

  “Is it worth it?” he asked himself.

  No matter how he came about it, there was no way out. He was the sheikh of Jabal, and he had to act in the best interests of his country.

  When he returned to the encampment, Dario found that the mood was strange. The dig was always lively, even when some would have preferred silence. Now, though, there was an air of uncertainty and tension. He scowled when he saw people looking over at him before glancing away. The fact that the murmurs stopped as soon as he walked up made him frown.

  His father had always said that a sheikh was about gossip, but the fourth time a conversation stilled as he walked by, he had had enough. He did not approach the diggers or the academics, but instead he went to the riders, who were men he had known most of his adult life. Majid was the first one he found, and even his old friend looked slightly cagey when Dario cornered him.

  “What is going on?” he asked in exasperation. “Whatever it is, I will find out sooner or later, and it will go very poorly with the men who keep it from me.”

  Majid fought a brief war with himself, and finally, he sighed.

  “Well, you are right,” he said. “You were going to see this sooner or later.”

  Majid pulled his smartphone from the sleeve of his robe, waiting until the satellite signal kicked in to load up a video. Dario recognized it as the opening of a morning show, and his confusion only deepened.

  Majid fast-forwarded until one of the female anchors was speaking, and then he paused it, turning the screen toward Dario.

  “…and here with us today, we have one of the inside sources on the tumult itself. Please welcome to the studio Ms. Bailey Tyler.”

  The studio audience burst into scattered applause, but as the camera scanned the crowd Dario could see that there were a few scowls as well.

  As Bailey, dressed in a fashionable Western suit with her hair tied back, walked out onto the stage, Dario felt a pang of panic for her. Somehow, over the course of their acquaintanceship, he had forgotten how small she really was. Crossing that stage alone, she looked almost unbearably delicate.

  “Hello, Mariya,” she said warmly, taking her seat at the couch. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

  “And an unexpected pleasure to have you here,” Mariya said. “I’ll admit, when you contacted me for an interview, I was more than a little shocked. Can you tell me and the audience here about what prompted that decision?”

  Bailey smiled a little, glancing down.

  “Well, I’ve been in the desert for the past few months, and I am only now getting back to the real world. In just over twenty-four hours, I’m going to be on a plane getting back to the United States. The last thing I thought I was going to be doing was getting on television, but then I saw a headline that stopped me dead in my tracks.”

  She took a deep breath before continuing.

  “I was shocked when I realized there were people who believed, truly believed, that Sheikh al-Nejem was failing his people. As a matter of fact, I do not think that I have met a man who loved or cared more about his country than Sheikh al-Nejem does. There has never been a doubt in my mind that he places his country’s welfare first, no matter what the circumstances.”

  Mariya’s eyes narrowed, reminding Dario of a shark that has scented blood in the water.

  “Can we truly believe that you are an impartial observer, though, Bailey? The news was full of talk about the Christensen raid, which is set to go to trial in the next few months. There were plenty of people who said the fact that you are not among that number is not to be countenanced.”

  Bailey’s head came up, and she looked fearlessly at the woman interviewing her. Even as Dario’s hands clenched into fists, aching to defend her, he was proud of her courage.

  “You have heard of my situation, I imagine, but I don’t think that you’ve heard about it from me. It feels like it has been a thousand years since I got a message from Christensen himself, asking me to work on the dig. This is something I thought was genuine. I spoke to old professors and government officials alike to find out if it was a real opportunity, and Christensen had them well and truly fooled because they told me that it was.

  “I came to Jabal because I was poor and I wanted to work. I wanted to work so badly, and more than that, I was so excited to be a part of a dig that would further Jabal’s long and illustrious history. When I was at the camp, it was far too late. I could do nothing to save myself or to change things. I was one woman, and they were men with guns.”

  Her voice broke slightly.

  “I was afraid. I was afraid all the time, and I had a feeling that the worst was going to happen when my rescue occurred.”

  “Your rescue, can you talk more about that?” asked Mariya. “We are told that the sheikh played a part in that…”

  “He was a hero,” Bailey said forcefully. “The first time I saw Sheikh al-Nejem, I didn’t know who he was. I passed him a note begging for help, and he responded. He came out of the night like some kind of avenging angel, leading the charge, and he saved me.

  “I am under no belief that I am in any way important. I know that he was there, risking life and limb to save the history of the people and the country that he loves so much. However, he did save me, and that is something for which I will always be thankful.”

  Dario could tell that the entire studio audience was hanging on to her every word. A pin drop could be heard in the set at that point, it was so silent.

  “You sound very fervent,” Mariya said, her voice gentle. “Is there perhaps more than gratefulness tinging your words?”

  Bailey laughed a little.

  “Nothing so soap-operaish, I’m afraid. The sheikh is an amazing man. He is like no one else I have ever known, and yes, it is not only gratefulness that I feel for him.”

  She paused then, fiddling with her necklace before she continued. With a pang, he saw she was wearing the aquamarine he had given her.

  “I do love him,” she said softly. “Very much. But I also understand my place. He has duty, honor, and his country to consider. I am only a woman he saved along the way. He will have my thanks and my love for the rest of his life.”

  Mariya blinked, as if she had not expected such a blunt answer.

  “Well, thank you so much for your candid response, Bailey, and for opening a window for the people of Jabal on what has been one of the most fiercely contested periods of the new sheikh’s reign. We are just about out of time, however…”

  Majid turned off the phone, stowing
it in his sleeve again.

  “I am not certain how we missed it,” he said slowly. “But when I saw that, I remembered talking with her when I took her to Rising Star. She is a beautiful woman, she always will be, but when she spoke about you, she glowed.”

  Dario wasn’t listening. Instead, he was thinking about his brave Bailey, and what it had taken for her to go on public television to defend him. From their inauspicious beginning when she had accused him of blackmailing her, they had arrived here to this place, where she was pouring her heart out in front of an audience of hundreds of thousands, all for his reputation.

  He had always known that she was beautiful and kind, but now he knew how brave she was as well.

  “That one would make a good queen,” Majid said, studying him carefully. “Some women bring money and lands to a marriage, while others bring only themselves. That one, I think, would have within herself all the dowry that anyone could ask for.”

  Majid had barely finished speaking before Dario was running back to the encampment, heading for the convoy vehicles. He had seen the date stamp for the interview, and he knew that he didn’t have much time.

  *

  Bailey was startled when the flight attendant touched her arm.

  “Excuse me, miss,” he said, “but you need to leave the plane.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  “What? But… but what’s the matter?”

  “I’m afraid I cannot say,” he said, and there was a distinct nervousness in the way he spoke. “But you need to disembark the plane immediately.”

  The other passengers were eying her warily, and as she gathered up her things, her heart beat faster.

  Had the police wanted to speak with her after all about Christensen? Dear God, had Christensen gotten out to come looking for her? Her mind blurred with terrible scenarios, and she stumbled off the plane, following the attendant to a small luxurious private lounge.

  Waiting there for her was the last person she expected to see.