The Sheik's Dangerous Temptation

by Mary Jo Springer

  “I’d be lost without you.” Her voice was so muted, he thought he’d heard her wrong.

  Her soft words staggered the rapid beat of his heart; he’d heard those very words from his sister’s sweet lips. “Tomorrow I’ll put all my resources into finding out who you are and why this happened to you,” he said. He sat down in the uncomfortable recliner and pulled the lever to lay the back out. “You have my word on that.”

  Suddenly, he desperately wanted to see the sun rise over the desert and experience the heat of it against his cheek. To step out of this dark place he’d been hovering in ever since the death of his family. To live again.

  Not going to happen, he chided himself. He couldn’t afford the luxury of having a woman in his life. No, he had to guard his heart, steel it against tender notions. Why? A nagging little voice in his head questioned. Because everyone I love turns up dead.

  Folding his arms over his chest, he struggled against the glorious lure of sleep. It had been a long day and night. He was exhausted. Bone tired. He required sleep, but he wasn’t going to get any. Not after what had transpired over the past few hours. A noise jerked him out of his torpor, and he scanned the room before his gaze settled on the sleeping woman. Sensing no present threat, he settled back into the recliner. Still, his mind refused to cooperate. His challenge to unmask his family’s killers took on a new urgency. A frown pulled the corners of his lips downward. Readjusting, trying to find a comfortable position, he listened to the steady beat of the monitor, keeping track of her heartbeat. As he dozed off, he wondered again just what this attractive woman could have done to earn such enemies, or if she was something more than he had fathomed . . . something treacherous placed squarely in his path. He pinched the skin at the bridge of his nose. Was he the biggest fool on the planet? Giving up any thought of sleep, he placed Nazem’s men around the room and headed for his office at the palace, Nazem on his heels.

  ~ ~ ~

  “How is it that my sister’s amulet found its way into her shoe? Tell me how this is possible?” Malik probed, sliding into the plush office chair behind his desk as the sun nudged the eastern horizon. Ensconced in the privacy of his office at this hour of the day maximized his productivity. The phones remained quiet and no servants scurried about. It was just him and his work. Except for today. Today Nazem paced in front of his desk, shattering the serenity of his solemn space.

  Booting up his desktop, he scrolled through his email, pausing to answer the most pressing. As he leaned back in his chair, he welcomed the cool breeze blowing across his neck from the air conditioning duct. Glancing over at the huge TV monitor mounted on the wall, he glared as the local news displayed a picture of his patient.

  Malik pointed at the screen. “Any luck with the media?”

  “Nothing yet, but we are blanketing the news stations in hope that someone will recognize her.” Nazem answered.

  “Somebody knows her. She didn’t just appear out of thin air.”

  “We’re calling in all favors.”

  After a long night of touch and go, his patient was finally out of the woods. He’d stayed long enough to make sure she slept peacefully. He’d return after showering and conducting some business—a lot of business—in time for her to eat her breakfast. He had advisors at an oil-well fire in the desert, the diamond mines along the river were under new regulations, and a sand storm ravaged the eastern third of the country. All this, and yet his mind drifted to thoughts of his mysterious patient.

  He shook his head, clearing images of tanned skin and luscious curves.

  “Tell me what you really think about our Jane Doe.” Malik implored.

  Nazem leaned onto his desk, both his hands flat against the highly-polished wood.

  Oh hell. Malik instantly realized his friend wasn’t telling him everything.

  “What?”

  “There’s more,” Nazem admitted, the lines of his face edged with worry.

  “Ah.” Malik’s eyebrow shot up. “I suspected as much. Tell me.”

  “We intercepted a man trying to board an airliner for the United Kingdom.”

  “A man?”

  “A revolutionary. His pockets lined with diamonds.”

  “And?” Malik forced himself to remain calm, but every cell in his body vibrated in alarm.

  His eyes followed Nazem, who shoved off his desk and began pacing the room. He knew Nazem. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  “We were able to persuade him to reveal some facts.”

  Malik steepled his fingers in front of him. “By persuade, you mean torture.”

  “Sleep deprivation, my lord. Nothing more.”

  Still staring at Nazem, Malik asked, “And I take it this persuasion revealed some interesting results.”

  “It confirmed our worst nightmare.”

  “I see,” Malik answered, his heart gravitating into his throat. With a wave of his hand, he motioned for Nazem to sit in the chair in front of his massive desk. “Let’s have it.”

  Nazem swallowed hard. “We may have gotten a break, finally. The prisoner informed us his master was livid when their attempt in the desert failed. He claims his master won’t stop until you’re dead.”

  “And who is this master?” Malik burst out.

  “The man didn’t have a clue. He’s never seen his face. Says he wears a mask whenever they meet.”

  “Wonderful. Just wonderful.”

  Nazem’s eyes bore into Malik’s. “This ‘master,’ whoever he is, plans to make damn sure he rids the land of your tyranny.”

  “My tyranny? All I ever wanted was for this nation to rise, to compete on a global scale.” Malik’s restraint snapped. “You knew all this information, and yet you kept it to yourself?”

  Nazem shrugged his shoulders. “I wanted to make sure of the facts before I worried you.”

  “And have you determined the facts?” Malik ground his teeth until his jaw ached from the strain.

  “I have my best men scouring the country for any clues about the timeline of this new plot.”

  Malik jumped to his feet, his desk chair flying out behind him, hitting the wall. “They will not find me so easy to kill. And the woman? What part does she play in all this?”

  “We’re working on it.”

  Rubbing a hand over his face, Malik sighed. Nazem’s answer did nothing to reassure him. “It appears an elaborate plot is under way, and we don’t have a clue as to the time, place, or who is involved. Do I have the gist of it?”

  Nazem rose and straightened to his full height, pulling his shoulders back into a military position. “I will not let anything happen to you, sire.”

  Malik shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, apprehension turning his shoulder blades into stone. “My fear is not for myself, but for this country and the chaos that will envelop it once the royal family has been fully exterminated. We live in dangerous times, in which anarchists are destroying country after country like an unstoppable plague.”

  “That’s not going to happen. Not as long as I have breath in my body! I swear, Your Majesty,” Nazem vowed.

  Malik patted the air, motioning his friend back into the chair. “Calm yourself. Your loyalty is not in question, but we must find out how the woman fits into this mess.” He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling and wall-to-wall window that stared out over the blue-green Arabian Gulf ten stories below. He sighed heavily, dropping his shoulder as he leaned against the glass.

  “I think she may be a pawn in someone’s nasty game of intrigue,” Nazem said.

  Must his life be one of constant upheaval? Staying alive proved to be a full-time job. “A pawn?” He sniffed in disbelief. “But you can’t be sure she’s not directly involved. Right?”

  “Agreed.”

  Nazem shook his head “They never
meant for her to be taken alive. I think the assassin failed in his mission to eliminate her. They needed her to die to cover their tracks. In fact, I bet heads rolled when they found out she’s still alive.”

  “That puts her in a very dangerous position.”

  “Yes, it’s quite possible she can identify these men, which would explain the attempt on her life last night.”

  Malik blew out a long, slow breath. “If they are unaware of her amnesia, they won’t stop until she’s dead.”

  “Exactly, my lord.”

  Malik pushed away from the window and turned to face Nazem. “I can’t allow her to stay in the hospital. We may not be so lucky the next time they attempt to kill her . . . and there will be a next time. I’m positive they already know of their failure.” He dropped back into his chair, picked up a pen, and rubbed it between the palms of his hands, waiting for Nazem’s reply.

  “I agree. What are your plans?”

  “I can’t put her up in a resort hotel—that would make it even easier for them to get to her—and I can’t contact any of her relatives due to her amnesia. I’m really at a loss. Do you have any suggestions?” Rising, Malik walked to the window, taking in the view of an oil-tanker leaving port. Towering sky scrapers dotted the landscape, along with a harbor filled to capacity with billion-dollar yachts. He felt a swell of pride in his accomplishments at making this nation, his nation, a fierce competitor in the Middle East and the world.

  “Why not allow her to stay here, at the palace?” Nazem suggested, snaring his attention. “Our security can protect her day and night.”

  Malik blew out a frustrated breath, leaning heavily against the window as he squared his shoulders. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I have confidential meetings here every day, and we don’t know where her loyalties lie.”

  Nazem crossed his legs. “I’d ask Interpol for help, but I just don’t feel that this woman is a big threat.”

  How could he not be cautious of this woman who had turned up half-dead in his desert? Maybe he was just being paranoid . . . but still, the question lingered—why was she here? Wanting some answers, he pressed on. “Then why was she in that car? Stop me anytime you don’t see the risk of having this woman close to me.”

  “Really, I believe her to be harmless,” Nazem said. “She’s such a little thing. It seems to me that she just got caught up in a trap. Maybe she overheard the details of the plot and the perpetrators needed to silence her.”

  Malik turned his palms up. “And ‘a little thing’ can’t wield a gun or design a bomb?”

  Nazem blushed. “I don’t think so, not in this case. My lord, have you ever known me to let you down?”

  Malik stared at his friend and bodyguard. “No, your instincts have always been right.”

  “Then trust me to do my job. Besides, it is better to have her where we can keep an eye on her, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not convinced of that.”

  Nazem gave an exaggerated shrug. “Someday you’re going to have to quit chasing those monsters and begin to live again.”

  Malik narrowed his eyes. “Sometimes the monsters chase you.”

  Malik paced back to his desk, let out a frustrated sigh, and dropped down in his chair. Images of all that tanned skin and luscious curves teased his mind. Her . . . here . . . within his reach? All the blood in his body rushed south. He grimaced, “I don’t think that’s going to work.”

  Nazem shook his head. “We can’t turn her over to the authorities until we know her name.”

  “Have we checked with the Americans? She has a distinct accent.”

  “Yes, I submitted a picture to immigration and to the American DMV. In the meantime, she needs to be secreted away to prevent her death.”

  Waving the words off with a flick of his hand, Malik said, “I know . . . I know.” He tapped his pen nervously against the desk. “I’ll have to make arrangements to move all my meetings here so I can keep an eye on her and keep her company for her meals.”

  “I think she would appreciate that, my lord,” Nazem added.

  Maybe, but could he handle the situation? He doubted his ability to think clearly when she was around.

  He gave a short, nervous laugh. “Should be interesting. I’m not used to having a woman underfoot, let alone living here.” Not that they would constantly cross paths. The palace had one hundred and thirty-two rooms. Seventy-two of them were bedrooms. He could spend a year without ever intercepting her in a hallway.

  Nazem continued to laugh. “It will do you good to have a woman around.”

  Malik pointed the pen at Nazem. “Watch it! I have plenty of women in my life.”

  “I’m not speaking about the bimbos you have your picture taken with for those scandalous magazines. This woman is different. When I spoke to her yesterday, she showed concern for you.” Nazem’s eyes widened as if a light bulb had turned on in his head. “This might be just the woman you need to melt that hard heart of yours.”

  For the first time in the past twenty-four hours, Malik’s lips lifted into a smile. “Match making, Nazem? Are you trying to marry me off?”

  Nazem’s smile widened. “Would that be so bad?”

  Malik straightened in his chair, puffing out his chest. “I’m not looking to settle down, if that’s what’s going on in that head of yours. I don’t need or want a woman on a permanent basis. I have enough trouble managing this country. You throw a woman into the mix, and I’m finished.”

  His friend’s smug smile and the way he kept chuckling under his breath bothered him. Come on. Nazem was way off base. He loved women—the way they smelled, their softness, the tinkle of their laughter, and of course sex. Especially sex. But he didn’t want to be tied down. He’d worry about finding a partner when it came time for him to produce an heir. But not now, not with this hanging over his head.

  Nazem’s voice interrupted his musings. “You spend too much time alone.”

  This conversation was getting way too personal. “Excuse me,” Malik said. “I didn’t realize your expertise included the field of psychiatry.”

  A wide smile broke across Nazem’s face. “You could use a good woman in your life. Someone to talk to and confide in.”

  “Oh, really? Should I reactivate the harem?” Malik’s sarcastic tone gave Nazem pause, but only for a moment.

  “All I’m saying is that it would do you good to have a special woman in your life.”

  “That’s exactly what I don’t need,” he sputtered, flipping through a stack of folders on his desk. “Right now, I’m not looking to get married. The women I see socially are fine, and you, my friend, need to leave my sexual conquests to me.”

  Still, Nazem wasn’t entirely wrong. There was something about his patient that kept teasing the edges of his mind. When he was with her, he experienced that ancient primal need to throw her over his shoulder and have his way with her. But he also wanted to protect her, which was stranger yet.

  Nazem put his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Point taken, my lord.”

  “Let’s get back to my concerns about my patient. If she stays at the palace, I’m going to want her protected around the clock. Can your forces handle that on top of all these threats?”

  “It will not spread us too thin. I believe we are capable of protecting her with little effort on our part.”

  Malik glanced up from the files he’d been studying. “She will need an escort wherever she goes, and someone will need to provide her with clothes and toiletries. She has nothing.”

  “I’ll see to it immediately upon her release from the hospital,” Nazem responded.

  “Good. She’ll probably be well enough to be released tomorrow.”

  “There will be gossip. Can you handle that part of this situation?” Nazem queried.


  Could he? Newspapers and magazines would immediately link her to him sexually. Would all that publicly take a toll on her recovery? The paparazzi were relentless when it came to his love life. They’d been hounding him for years, and each year it grew worse—always hiding in bushes and chasing his car as they snapped away with their intrusive cameras. He had no private life outside the palace. His pictures appeared in magazines around the world, and half the time the photographers used telephoto lenses, and he wasn’t even aware he was being photographed. It was a damnable situation.

  “My concern is that we may be doing more harm than good with this plan,” Malik suggested. He knew how she affected him. He’d make sure to create distance between them while she was staying with him.

  “I believe you are the right person to protect her.”

  “Because I’m a doctor?” Malik smirked, one eyebrow hitching up.

  “No, because you have honor.”

  Malik laughed, shaking his head. “When it comes to women, I’m not so sure I’m any different from any other man.”

  “I have total confidence that you will do the right thing.”

  If only Malik harbored the same amount of confidence in himself.

  “Oh, there is one more crumb of information I uncovered with the nurses. Your patient speaks Arabic.” Nazim admitted.

  “What the hell?” Malik shouted.

  “Yeah, the nurses were discussing something among themselves in her room, and she answered them in fluent Arabic.”

  Malik pointed a finger at his friend, “This little tidbit of information should have been your lead in for this meeting. Don’t you think?”

  “Not really. She could have learned the language anywhere. Traveling, college, California.”

  “You think the teaching of Arabic is prevalent in California, do you?”