Assassin for the Sheikh_A Royal Billionaire Romance Novel

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Assassin for the Sheikh_A Royal Billionaire Romance Novel Page 14

by Annabelle Winters


  “No,” she stammered, trying to back up but hitting that heavy wooden dresser again. “It can’t be. You set it all up? You couldn’t have. There’s no way. No damned way.”

  “Really?” the Sheikh said, taking a step toward her, a smile breaking on his face, his eyes locked dead on hers. “A billionaire king with powerful political connections. I had your file several days before our first meeting, enough time for me to plan for all sorts of things. You do not think I could have arranged for a few masked Russian-speaking men with AK-47s firing blanks? A couple of F-16s from the fleet stationed at the USAF base in Qatar? A single Blackhawk from the dozens owned by the Saudis?”

  “You’re insane,” Kathryn muttered, shaking her head as her vision narrowed to a single point. It was everything she could do to not pass out. “Why?”

  “Is it not obvious? It was our first date, Kathryn. I had to plan something befitting the situation, the person. I didn't think I'd win you over by simply taking you to dinner and a movie.”

  “First . . . date?! Win . . . me . . . over,” she repeated, the words coming out slurred as she blinked in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Do you not see, Kathryn?” the Sheikh said softly, taking a step closer until he was almost up against her body. “You thought the mission was to convince me to marry you. Well, that was accomplished in about ten minutes after I met you. I knew that if Mel had trusted you to handle Gorka and then sent you to me, you were one in a million. And our first interaction confirmed that. So then the mission changed. Then the mission, Kathryn Krane, became how to convince you to marry me. For real. And the only way to do that was to throw as much chaos as possible at you, to scramble your signals, to destroy that unfeeling, cold-hearted shell that you’ve had to build around yourself over the years. You were indeed being played, Kathryn. Just not in the way you thought.”

  “But . . . but Mel, Benson . . . how . . .” she started to say, but the words wouldn’t come as she felt him press against her, those green eyes looking into hers, his scent rising up and overwhelming her.

  “It was a gamble forced by the Yuri Gorka situation. See, all these years I was safe from being targeted by the Saudis, because they knew that even if they decided to risk angering the United States by killing me, there was a chance my half-sister would choose to return to Sehaar and claim the throne. But after the Yuri Gorka situation, Nisha’s profile in Russia was raised high enough that the Saudis might believe she would not return to Sehaar. Which meant that I needed to marry an American to make sure the Saudis didn’t think it was safe to eliminate me.”

  Kathryn shook her head and tried to look away, but she couldn’t break from the eye contact. “I already knew you needed to marry an American, which was why I was sent in the first place. It doesn’t explain why you needed to win me over or whatever the hell you thought you were doing with all of this. I would have married you simply because it was my assignment.”

  “I know,” the Sheikh said quietly, reaching out and touching her hair, then her cheek, making her tremble as he did it. “And that is why I had to do what I did. I had to know that you were marrying me because you wanted to, not because you were ordered to. But more importantly, you needed to know that you were marrying me because you wanted to.”

  “But why?” she asked, gasping as he ran his hand along her neck and tugged gently at the top of her robe. “What difference does it make?”

  “It makes all the difference. When Nishaani and I started Operation Nightshade, we swore to each other that we’d never sacrifice our humanity along the way. And to be human is to love and be loved. Everything would be pointless if we chose our mates without love.”

  “Operation Nightshade was you and your sister?”

  “Yes.”

  Kathryn shook her head. “I thought your sister wanted you dead. What about the bomb underneath your car. The poison in your hotel room-service?”

  “I set those up to make anyone watching—CIA or the Saudis or the Russians—think that Nisha and I were estranged. It would help her rise, and add to the confusion as people tried to figure out what the hell was going on.”

  Kathryn frowned, still shaking her head. “I knew that bomb attack was bullshit. And no one screws up with poison, because you always make sure you add more than you need. OK, so you and Nisha planned this decades ago. Maybe I buy that, but regardless, it still doesn’t add up. Are you saying Nishaani loved Yuri Gorka?”

  “Yes. Very much so.”

  “And Mel knew this?”

  “Yes. Of course. She would not have allowed her daughter to go through with it otherwise.”

  Kathryn snorted. “I doubt that. Especially since Mel herself asked me to kill him. Which I did, by the way.”

  “Did you?” the Sheikh said, his smile breaking through her confusion, his eyes piercing her doubt even as things somehow made less sense than before. “Yuri Gorka was not who you thought he was. Mel gave you a fake profile, making him seem like a hardliner when in fact he was a maverick with progressive ideas that the Russian establishment saw as a threat. The CIA got word that he was being targeted for elimination by the Russian secret service, and so they decided to get the jump on them by arranging for his accidental death so they could save his life and keep him in hiding until it was safe.”

  “No,” Kathryn said, almost hysterical as she shook her head. “There’s no way his death could have been faked. Especially if you’re saying the Russian government wanted him dead. They would have checked and double-checked and done five autopsies to make sure he was dead. There’s just no way.”

  “Unless there are certain factions within the Russian government who secretly support Gorka and who are powerful enough to handle the autopsies and medical reports and funeral arrangements, powerful enough to manage a cover-up at that level.”

  Kathryn rubbed her forehead. “So you’re saying Gorka is alive and in hiding. And your sister and he are in love and their marriage is real. And Operation Nightshade has nothing to do with the CIA but is something you and your sister came up with to . . . to do what?”

  “To make a difference. To change things. What is the point of being alive if you do not think big? What is the point of being a king, a princess, royalty, if you do not act to make the world a better place? What is the point of having billions in the bank, power beyond measure, if you do not take it upon yourself to use your influence where it actually matters?” The Sheikh held her face in his hands and raised her head so she was forced to look into his eyes, and she almost melted when she saw the sincerity on his face. “And you feel the same way, Kathryn. You understand that feeling, that need to change things, that need to make a difference, to put it all on the line, to put yourself on the line. Not many people think that way, think like us. That’s why it had to be you, Kathryn. You were chosen. We all chose you. Mel, Benson, myself. All of us. You are one in a million. You are my one in a million. Mel and Benson chose you because they knew I would choose you too.” Then he smiled and shook his head. “We just had to make sure you chose me as well! And to do that we had to isolate you, make you doubt everything and everyone, throw so much chaos at you that your cold, analytical, razor-sharp mind finally broke down and gave in to your body, your heart, your soul. That is the only way you’d understand what is real.”

  “But how can I know if it’s real, Hyder,” she whispered as he caressed her cheeks and ran his fingers through her hair. “Everything’s been a lie so far. I don’t know who’s telling the truth. I don’t know—”

  But the Sheikh stopped her with a kiss, and her world exploded as she felt herself kiss him back. And then she knew he was answering her question, the only question that mattered.

  "Marry me. Bloody hell, just marry me," he said.

  And she answered it with the only reply that made sense:

  "What the hell. Yes. Oh God, yes, Hyder."

  27
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br />   “It was the only thing that made sense,” Mel said to her through those thin lips. But for some reason those dull gray eyes of hers shone blue, like Mel had regained some of her youth, some of her spark, some of her fire.

  “You think sending me in blind, lying to me outright, putting me in a position like that was the only thing that made sense? I should take you out, Mel. Holy hell, did you consider just coming clean with me? Just freakin’ laying it out like it is? For once in your goddamn life and career being up front and fucking honest?!”

  After three wonderful weeks in the Kingdom of Sehaar, Kathryn had flown back to the United States to get her head straight. Not that she needed to get herself straight so much as she wanted to set Mel straight. Regardless of the outcome—which, Kathryn had to admit, wasn’t so bad—the fact remained that Mel had played her. Everyone had played her! She’d make the Sheikh pay for it over the years—hell, she’d enjoy holding that over his head for the next four decades! (That would be one hell of a how-we-met story for the grandkids, yeah?) But Mel was going to get her comeuppance now. Right goddamn now.

  They met in Birmingham, on a gorgeous sunny day in the park, the Vulcan staring down on them from Red Mountain. Kathryn wore those sunglasses she’d picked up from that street vendor in Sehaar, and as she cleaned a smudge from the lens she made a note to ask Hyder if he’d ever been charged for them.

  “John and I were as open with you as we could be, given the situation,” Mel said calmly, glaring at the sun for a moment as if surprised it was so bright. What, did Mel come out of the shadows so rarely these days she didn’t recognize the goddamn sun?

  “And what situation was that? Or do I need to keep guessing? Keep reading between the lines? Keep filling in the blanks? For once in your life, can you just put it out there, Mel? Don’t I deserve that much?” Kathryn took a breath when she saw Mel flinch.

  “Oh, Kathryn,” Mel said, her voice trembling in a way that made Kathryn uneasy. Mel had never come close to showing this much emotion, and Kathryn almost regretted pushing her. “Kathryn, of course you deserve it. That’s the point. That was the point of it all, don’t you see? You’re one in a million, and so is he.” She snorted and shook her head, glancing down and then back up. “I’ve watched Hyder from the sidelines since he was twelve years old, Kathryn. The man is special, a man who can change things. This entire play wasn’t about the oil, it was about him. The man was the mission, Kathryn.” She paused and took a breath, shaking her head and smiling again, those gray eyes once more shining blue. “And sometimes you can only get the man by sending in the right woman.”

  Kathryn shook her head and closed her eyes. She’d suspected as much, but to hear Mel say it meant something. She wanted to keep that anger going, maintain that indignation, scream her head off and finish this epic tantrum, but she couldn’t. Mel was some weird combination of a mom and a best friend, and it was all she could do to not hug her right then. And Mel was right: Hyder was one in a million, and hell, so was she. And there was no doubt they were right for each other.

  The past three weeks had been beautiful, and if those first three insane days with Hyder had been the first date to end all first dates, the weeks that followed would have put even the world’s greatest honeymoon to shame. And they weren’t even married yet!

  “Think about it, Kathryn,” Mel said, breaking her out of the daydream she was slipping into as she glanced up at the Vulcan and almost giggled out loud when she thought of the shirtless Sheikh standing on a dune and striking a pose beneath the desert sun after he’d arranged to be shot down by F-16s as a first date—just because it would have been too damned boring to just take her to dinner and a movie. “If I’d told you that Hyder is an idealistic, reclusive Sheikh who is absolutely committed to making a lasting change in the world but is equally bound to an old-world notion of true love and deep intimacy with a woman who understands him, what would you have said? You’d have laughed and told me to fuck off. Let’s face it, honey: You aren’t the type to be won over with a dinner-and-a-movie first date.”

  Kathryn took a breath and narrowed her eyes beneath those big sunglasses. She’d changed so much over the past month, but she could still remember the woman she’d been over the past ten years. Cold. Guarded. No emotions except the ones she faked. “Dinner and a movie,” she said, cracking a small smile though she tried to hide it. “Yeah, I’d have probably asked you how soon I could kill the sentimental loser.”

  Mel’s thin frame trembled with laughter, and she reached out and squeezed Kathryn’s arm. Suddenly the two women were hugging in the sunshine, and Kathryn was glad those sunglasses were so damned big, because she sure as hell didn’t want Mel to see her bawl like a sentimental baby-girl.

  “But you see it now, don’t you?” Mel asked, her voice strained with emotion. “I played you because I believed in you. Because you’re special to me. Because you deserve to be happy.” Then she shook her head. “But I also know what drives you, what’s always driven you.”

  “And what is that?”

  “The need to make a difference. I know the price you’ve paid over the years, giving up a shred of your humanity every time you took a life. That’s why when we heard of the Russian Secret Service’s plan to eliminate Yuri Gorka, I decided it was now or never for this insane plan.”

  “Yeah, speaking of that,” Kathryn said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “How do I ever face Nisha Gorka now? Her husband’s seen me naked! Though I do give him credit for saying he wouldn’t cheat on his wife. Still, it’s gonna be a bit awkward meeting my future sister-in-law for the first time.”

  Mel’s face lit up. “So you are going to get married. Thank God. I was afraid I’d have to set up another mission to get you to make that final leap, and I just don’t know if I have it in me.”

  Kathryn laughed. “Um, yeah, you have it in you. But don’t change the goddamn topic, Mel. Why send me to Gorka first? This plan would have worked without that additional complication, yeah?”

  Mel shook her head. “I wanted Hyder to know I’d sent you to handle the Yuri Gorka situation. Remember, Hyder and I aren’t in close contact. He cut off contact with the CIA years ago because he’s been playing this balancing act of being radio silent with both the United States and Saudi Arabia. A brilliant move, by the way—but I digress. My point is that once Hyder saw in your leaked file that I’d sent you to handle Gorka, he’d know immediately that I trusted you implicitly, absolutely, completely. And that would be a message that he needed to take you seriously.” She paused and took a breath. “That you were that one in a million. That I’d sent you to him because I believed in you. In the two of you.”

  Kathryn felt her heart leap, and a strange warmth went through her when she realized that perhaps Mel wasn’t that cold, robotic woman under all of it, that there was humanity left in her. And God, Mel had used the last of her own humanity to give Kathryn a shot at her fairytale ending. She wanted to jump up and hug Mel again, but she just took a breath and broke a smile and nodded. That was enough for now, Kathryn knew. Mel would understand that Kathryn had understood. After all, both women were experts at reading between the lines, weren’t they?

  “What’s the other reason you sent me to handle Gorka?” Kathryn said quietly.

  This time Mel just shrugged. “Simple. Because you were the best person for the job. We needed to fake his death, and there’s no one I know better than you at getting a kill done with finesse.” She paused and took a breath. “The key word being ‘know.’ I couldn’t risk my son-in-law’s life by sending in someone I didn’t trust completely. I knew you wouldn’t lose your nerve and do something like put a bullet in him or lock the freezer door.”

  “But if you guys were going to fake Yuri Gorka’s death, why even send me?” Kathryn said. “Nisha Gorka could have just told him to disappear. If Nisha had people who could handle fake autopsies and medical reports at that level, it would have been easy,
yeah? Yuri could have just driven off to a cabin in the woods and chilled, no pun intended. Hell, he could have walked into that freezer himself that night!”

  “You’re assuming Yuri knew what was going on, Kathryn.”

  “Wait. He didn’t know we were going to fake his death? Why the hell not? More importantly, how the hell not!”

  “You don’t know Yuri. He’s a fiery man. If he found out that members of the Russian government were plotting to kill him, he would have gone on the warpath, tried to root them out, gone to the press perhaps. It’s hard to say. The result would have been unpredictable. In Russia, going to the press is no guarantee you’ll make the news. He might have been killed even faster, more publicly by those who wanted him dead. We had to keep him in the dark. Besides, we couldn’t just have him disappear. We needed the press to see his half-frozen body taken out of the freezer.”

  “So the hypnotism was real. All of it was real. He really did pass out in the freezer.” Kathryn took a breath and shook her head. “And then what? Nisha timed it just right? She waited long enough for him to go into mild hypothermia, then she called an ambulance and they created the scene where they pronounced him dead and whisked him away?”

  Mel nodded and shrugged like it was nothing. “Yup. She cut it close. A bit of frostbite too, but he’s still got all his fingers. And she’s convinced him to stay in hiding until she rises to power. Then they’ll see how to play his return from the dead. That’s another great opportunity to make an impact with a dramatic headline. Can’t wait to see what my brilliant daughter comes up with when the time is right.”

 

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