He watched her for a long moment before he said, “When your eyes are opened and you see the destruction and desperation your uncle has wrought, you’ll change your mind.”
Ilara shrugged dismissively. “If things are as bad as those pictures claim, and my uncle has truly decimated my country, then I guarantee that I will marry you in order to fulfill the requirements of my country in order to take control. Does that satisfy you?”
His gaze dropped, caressing over her breasts again, making her tingle with awareness.
“I’m not nearly as easily satisfied.” He waited for her blush before he continued. “But yes. I agree to your terms. When I show you how bad things are in Ditra, I accept your proposal to marry so that we can make things better for the people of Ditra.”
For some reason, his words startled her. Had she just negotiated an agreement? Had she just…were they engaged now?
Without warning, he stood up and leaned into her. Closer and closer, their eyes locked as one arm leaned on her chair while the other seemed to wrap around her. His eyes and face…his mouth moved closer and closer. He wasn’t going to kiss her. Not…possible! They barely knew each other! He wasn’t…
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice deeper than it had been a moment ago. A wave of awareness poured over her as she pressed her body back against the soft leather of the chair. Closer and closer and….
Then he was gone; cell phone to his ear, speaking with someone as he left. She slumped down into her chair, her body almost collapsing as she sucked in air.
Chapter 3
Hours later, Jabril peeked quietly into the room. When he spotted Ilara, something inside of him…jerked? Skipped? He was caught off guard by the strength of his reaction to the image of Ilara lying on her side, curled up on the seat, her long hair falling in a golden cascade over the side of the leather chair. She’d slipped her shoes off, but other than that, she’d done nothing else to make herself feel comfortable, not even reclining the seat. She rested her head on her hand but, even as he watched, her head fell forward, jerking her slightly awake.
It seemed a crime to wake her now, although he needed to talk to her, tell her about the latest events. She wasn’t going to believe him, but…
Her long, dark lashes fluttered against her cheek, as if she were dreaming. As he watched, she stretched her legs and rolled over. He knew that she was cold by the way she hunched her shoulders.
She’s too thin, he thought. Too thin, but…strangely unique. The inner strength about her was startling to watch while she was awake. But now that she was asleep, he could see the softness more clearly. She was a breathtakingly beautiful woman, he thought again. If he were able to choose a wife, he’d pick someone like Ilara; soft and beautiful, dignified and passionate about doing the right thing.
The reality of her startled him. When he’d gone to the United States to retrieve her, he’d convinced himself that she was just a selfish, negligent, indolent waste of a would-be ruler. He’d known she lived in California, but he hadn’t bothered to find out about her job, only that she’d studied economics and politics. After talking with her, he’d gone through the incredibly thorough background check and discovered that she hadn’t just studied economics, she used her knowledge to advise people on getting out of debt, reaching their goals, and starting a business. She barely took a salary and lived in a tiny apartment. Any profits over her living expenses were used to help promote her business or, even more impressive, helping the small businesses of her clients to get off the ground. That aspect of her work was all done through an anonymous “foundation” that she’d established and ran on her own.
She worked with clients in the early morning, during their lunch breaks, in the evenings, and even on weekends. During the hours she wasn’t actually speaking with her clients, she worked on her foundation, advertising, speaking with special groups, and writing blog posts. Did the woman ever sleep?
Obviously, she did, he thought as he watched her wiggle uncomfortably in the chair. But probably not enough. She didn’t eat enough either, he thought as her lashes fluttered again.
He’d also thought she had abandoned her responsibilities to the people of Ditra. But after their conversation, he knew that she genuinely believed that her uncle was doing more good than she’d be able to accomplish. She honestly thought that her people were better off. From the vulnerable look in her eyes when he’d first confronted her, he suspected that she ached to rule her people. That living in California felt wrong to her. He’d read through the numerous e-mails from her uncle, including some of the headlines from those messages. She’d repeatedly questioned her uncle’s reassurance that things were okay back home. Several of those messages had read, “But what about…?” and a list of questions.
Yes, Jabril acknowledged that he’d started this mission prepared to marry an indolent, obnoxious, self-centered brat. And he’d been ready to cope with it, as long as he gained access to his people so that he could protect them from Kasim’s brutal rule.
But now he was reeling from his misconceptions about Ilara and her motivations.
Or was it all a show? But to what end? She was fully convinced that she was going to prove him wrong in Ditra. What was going to happen when she realized the truth? When she saw what her uncle was really doing?
Jabril would have to protect her from herself, from her self-flagellations when she saw how her uncle had brutalized the people of Ditra. Her Uncle Kasim was cruel in his suppression of any contradicting voice in order to profit from Ditra’s resources. Yes, he suspected that this slender beauty was going to beat herself up for ignoring her instincts.
With a sigh, he reached out to touch her shoulder, reluctantly waking her up.
She jerked awake, eyes wide as she tried to remember where she was. Jabril’s body reacted just as intensely as before and he stifled a curse. He didn’t want to be attracted to her. Nor did he want to feel those softer emotions. Hard logic had helped his people prosper. Allowing feelings to interfere with his judgement could put his people in danger.
Focusing completely on the message he needed to relay, he waited patiently for her to come awake. When she licked her lips, his control over his body slipped and he stifled a frustrated growl. Curling his fingers into a tight fist, he focused on her eyes, thinking they were the safest place to look as she came awake.
Because it definitely wasn’t safe to look at that dark shadow between her breasts. Or her long legs encased in cheap slacks. Cute toes, he thought. Her toenails were painted red. Bright, eye-grabbing red. What did the red toenails mean? Probably nothing more than she liked red toenails, but as a man, it was like a red flag being waved in front of a raging bull. And yeah, he was a man who liked women. Although, he doubted he’d ever find a woman more feminine and alluring than Ilara, much to his dismay!
“Where are we?” she asked, her voice doing that sleepy, sexy, husky thing.
“We are currently about two hours from Piara,” he replied. “But we’ve run into an obstacle.”
He watched, fascinated, as she pushed herself to a sitting position, tucking her long, blond hair behind her ears. Was the color natural? Or from an expensive salon? Maybe a gift from a long, forgotten ancestor? Most of the people in his country and hers had dark hair and dark eyes. At this point though, he didn’t care, enjoying the view of the long, silky tresses draped alluringly over her shoulder. Beautiful, he thought.
“What’s the obstacle?” she asked, stretching.
“The airport in Ditra is closed.”
She leaned forward, continuing to stretch.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” she replied. “But…why would the airport be closed? Did you tell them that I was on the plane? That I wanted to land?”
He mentally debated how to answer that question. In the end, he went with brutal honesty. “No. I didn’t think it was safe.”
She laughed. “Not safe? It’s my country. Why wouldn’t it be safe?”
Anothe
r mental debate, and he clenched his teeth, not wanting to deliver the news. In the end, he had to be honest. “Because I suspect your uncle would shoot down the plane,” he finally admitted.
Ilara shook her head with a small smile to her lips. “He would never hurt me.”
“Ilara, I don’t think you understand how bad things are. Will you…?” He stopped, choosing his words carefully. “I need to ask you to trust me for the next several hours. Until I can prove things to you, I need for you to have faith in my judgement. If I’m wrong, you will have plenty of time to torment me with my erroneous assumptions.”
She considered his words for a long m moment, then nodded slowly. “Fine. I’ll trust you, but only because you’ve given me no reason not to. But by morning, when we’re safely in Ditra, and you see how good things are, how happy the people are, at that point, I get to say ‘I told you so’. Deal?” she asked, then started putting her hair back up, her fingers sifting and spinning the golden silk around and around.
Jabril watched, fascinated with the process and jealous of her fingers.
Jealous? Damn, what was this woman doing to him?! He wasn’t jealous and he had no desire to run his fingers through her hair either. He was…she flipped it around and knotted it on the back of her neck. Wow, how the hell was it staying in place? His fingers ached to dive into that twist and find out how it worked.
“Right. For now, we need to get ready. I have drivers standing by at the air base where the plane is heading. We’ll land at an air force base on the edge of Piara and drive across the border into Ditra. I have a team ready. We should be at one of the border villages by the time the sun comes up.”
“Excellent!” she replied cheerfully and stood up. “I didn’t bring a change of clothes, so I hope it won’t take long to drive into the city.”
He doubted that it would be easy traveling, and she was right – her clothes would be an issue. The cheap wool of her slacks and the soft silk of her blouse wouldn’t stand up well on the rough roads they’d be taking. “I’ll have my commander standing by with a change of clothes for you,” he told her. With that, he stood up and walked towards the door. “Breakfast will be here in a few minutes. Eat a big meal. I don’t know when we’ll be able to stop for food along the way, although we’ll have some rough, packaged foods available.”
Chapter 4
“Here,” Jabril said, accepting the camouflage clothes and sturdy combat boots from his commander and handing them to Ilara.
“What’s this?” she asked, following him into the military hangar.
“Clothes,” he replied, walking quickly enough that she had to jog to keep up. He wanted her out of the open as quickly as possible. “You’re going to need something more durable than slacks and heels.”
He turned to listen to his commander’s plan, nodding at several points as the man showed the team’s path on a map. “You’ll be going over this mountain, avoiding the more obvious and easier pass here,” the commander explained. There was a team of about six men, all of them armed, wearing clothing similar to what Ilara was holding.
“What are the risks?” Jabril asked.
The commander sighed, shaking his head. “Enough that I wish you’d let me take Princess Ilara through to Ditra, Your Highness.”
Ilara had been examining the clothing, trying to figure out what exactly the man had handed to her when she heard those words. Turning, she moved closer to the table with the various maps spread out over the top. “What risks?” she demanded.
The man looked to Jabril, then to her after gaining his ruler’s nod. “There have been several attacks on the border villages over the past several weeks, Your Highness,” he answered carefully.
Jabril watched her eyes, noticed the confusion, and mentally groaned.
“What kinds of attacks?” she probed. Jabril noticed that she shifted into ‘command’ mode, her tone not allowing his general to refuse to explain. “Why the border villages? There are only farmers this far out. Good soil, but they aren’t complicated people. The most they see of industry is the train that brings their goods to the markets.”
Another glance was shared between the two men and Ilara knew that she wasn’t going to like their next words.
“The area is no longer farmed, Your Highness.”
“Why not?” she demanded, horrified. This area was the most prosperous of Ditra! In fact, most of the food sources were grown just over the mountain from Piara. The soil was especially fertile due to the runoff from the rains coming down from the mountains. The winds blew dust and seeds onto the mountains, the low shrubs and trees that grew naturally in the rougher terrain dropped their leaves onto the ground, where they decomposed. The rain’s runoff from the mountains then carried those nutrients to the valley.
The commander sighed and pointed on the map once again. “This railroad track used to stop in several of the smaller towns where the farmers brought their produce in order to get it to the markets. A few years ago, the tracks were ripped up and re-laid here,” he said, pointing to another area far from the rich farmland. “The tracks were diverted to carry weapons. The farmers couldn’t get their produce to the markets so…” he trailed off and Jabril took over.
“Your uncle doesn’t take well to people criticizing him. So, when your uncle diverted the railroad that used to service the farming areas, the farmers complained about how difficult it would be to get their produce into the cities. Your uncle’s solution was to bomb the farmlands and burn down their houses.”
Ilara frowned, not sure she believed him. “No. He wouldn’t do that. Not to simple farmers,” she stated firmly.
The two men shared a look, then turned back at her.
“Right,” she snapped, irritated with all of the gloom and doom. “Let me get changed and I’ll show you.” She turned and stomped into one of the offices, quickly changing into cargo pants that were much more comfortable than she would have anticipated. A soft tee-shirt and then a jacket to protect her from the chill of the night. Black boots that laced up her ankles completed her outfit, and she took everything out of her purse and stuffed it all into her pockets.
“Okay, let’s go!” she called out, angry now. Jabril was feeding her a bunch of ridiculous stories that couldn’t possibly be true. Her uncle would have told her if he’d used force, for any reason. And he absolutely wouldn’t have used bombs on her people! That was just…insane! The very idea that Jabril and his military commander would say something so outrageous infuriated her!
“This way,” Jabril led her over to what looked like a Jeep on steroids. It wasn’t quite a Hummer, but it was definitely bigger than the Jeeps she’d seen on California highways.
He held the door for her and she climbed in, neither saying a word. But as Ilara watched, several other, more heavily armed men stepped into five other Jeeps, most of them carrying bags that looked ominous and frightening. In the back of the caravan, two other men climbed into a huge truck, although Ilara had no idea what it was carrying.
If Ilara didn’t know better, she might think that they were heading into a war zone!
“Let’s do this,” Jabril climbed into the driver’s side and revved the engine. Another Jeep led the caravan and they headed off into the dark night. Ilara glanced at her watch and recalculated the time. With the change in time zones, she realized that it was about four o’clock in the morning, Piara time. She knew that it would take about ninety minutes to get over the mountain into Ditra.
“You can take a nap if you need to,” Jabril told her.
She looked him over, noticed that he wasn’t the fresh flower that he’d been earlier. She’d slept for a couple of hours on the plane, but she was pretty sure that he hadn’t done the same. “Have you slept yet?” And she hated the twinge in her chest at the thought of him feeling as exhausted as she did.
“I’m fine,” he replied. Which wasn’t an answer. But if he wanted to play the tough guy, she wasn’t going to argue with him.
Two hours later, th
ey were over the mountain and the sun was peeking over the mountains to the east. She watched, excited to be home and to see her people again. She never should have stayed away this long, she realized with a pang. Now that she was back, it was shocking how much she missed her home and her people. Regardless of how well her uncle was doing, she still should have come back. This country wasn’t just her responsibility, it was her home!
She saw the building up ahead and smiled, thinking about the tall, thatched roofs of the barns and farming homes common on this side of the country. But…as they got closer, she noticed something wasn’t right about the outline of the roof. The sun wasn’t bright enough yet for her to see clearly but….the building looked…odd.
When they pulled up closer, she realized why. There wasn’t a roof. One side of the building and the entire roof of the barn were gone! “What happened?” she whispered, staring at the shell of the house.
The caravan stopped and she stepped out, looking around. The sun rose a bit higher over the mountain and she looked at the blackened landscape. Small, green weeds pushed through the charred mess and Ilara’s heart broke. “This isn’t…he couldn’t have!” she whispered through numb lips.
“We need to keep moving, Ilara,” Jabril urged softly behind her.
She nodded, resisting the urge to go inside the house, wanting to make sure that everyone had gotten out safely. But that’s when she realized something worse. There was no house. The blackened remains of the barn stood against the brightening light of the horizon, but the house wasn’t there. She peered carefully through the dawn light and gulped when she spotted the blackened patch. The only reason she knew that the spot was where the house used to be was because of a few pieces of blackened lumber poking out of the rubble.
Saddened, Ilara stepped back into the Jeep, staring straight ahead as she worked through what she’d just seen. She could feel Jabril next to her, knew that he wanted to talk about it. But she needed….she needed to process what she’d just seen.
Resisting the Sheik's Commands (The Diamond Club Book 1) Page 3