Kept for the Sheikh's Pleasure Page 7

  “Please repeat that,” he said smoothly. The meeting continued, and Zafir worked to concentrate on what was being said. After nearly fifteen minutes of circular logic, his mind drifted once more.

  He couldn’t stop picturing Genie in a traditional Bah’sharan bridal gown.

  Though Bah’sharan law did not allow for a foreign wife who was not a princess, the law was old and could be changed. It had been meant to protect the throne from overthrow, but that was not so much an issue in today’s world.

  It wouldn’t be easy, and there would no doubt be much grumbling and arguing amongst his ministers, but changing the code was possible. The idea galvanized him.

  Raised voices brought him sharply back to the present. Sheikh Abu Bakr had gone to stand by a window with his back to the group. Sheikh Hassan sat with his arms crossed and a militant expression on his face. Zafir’s ministers looked exasperated.

  Zafir had had enough for now.

  “Let us take a break,” he interjected. “I will return in an hour’s time, and I expect you all to be here, ready to talk.”

  He stood. Everyone in the room shot to their feet and bowed. Zafir turned and strode out the door. There was just enough time to see Genie, maybe have a little lunch with her. He wouldn’t tell her about his idea just yet. It was too new, and he was still too uncertain it was the correct path. His heart believed it was, but his head needed time to adjust.

  There was a shortcut to the harem and he took it, passing down long dark corridors that were rarely used anymore. He was excited about the idea of changing the code, about talking Genie into marrying him and staying in Bah’shar, but he was torn as well. Though it felt like the best solution for him personally, was it best for his people? For his nation?

  As he passed a dark alcove, a sharp pain sliced across his arm. Zafir spun as something flashed silver in the dim light. All his senses were on high alert as the assassin’s knife descended again.

  “Die, traitor,” a voice breathed as the knife plunged home.

  CHAPTER NINE

  GENIE was in the library, researching the Temples of Al-Shahar, when two men in dark clothes burst in. She recognized them as being on Zafir’s security team from the Uzis slung across their chests and the microphones in their ears. She didn’t even realize she’d gotten to her feet until they crashed to a halt in front of her.

  “You will come with us,” one of the men said.

  “Where are we going?” She’d faced menacing characters before in her line of work, but these two made her heart pound a little harder than usual. Perhaps because they were part of the team that ensured Zafir’s safety. If they were here, was something wrong? Was there danger?

  A tremor of apprehension snaked along her spine.

  “The hospital.”

  “But what has happened?” she said as they hustled her toward the exit.

  One of the men looked down at her with a grave expression. “The King has been stabbed.”

  *

  Zafir winced as the doctor probed at the wound.

  “You are lucky, Your Majesty,” he said. “It’s only a flesh wound.”

  Yes, but one that hurt like hell. And one that he would not have gotten had he not been distracted by thoughts of the woman he’d been in a hurry to see again.

  “A few stitches and it will heal nicely,” the doctor continued as he finished his examination.

  The man went to get his supplies and Zafir turned to the guard who stood silently by.

  “Is she here yet?”

  “They are bringing her now, Majesty.”

  A moment later the door burst open and Genie rushed in. He was no longer surprised at the kick in the gut he felt when he saw her, but he pushed it down deep and put a lid on it. She was pale and her cheeks were tear-streaked. He took in her puffy eyes, her red nose, and felt a pang of guilt.

  He had to let her go. For her safety. Until the moment he’d been attacked he hadn’t stopped to think how his people might react to a Western woman as their queen. There were those who would never accept it. Though it made him want to howl in frustration to be forced to give up happiness just when he’d thought he might have found it, he had to do so.

  For her. What he wanted didn’t matter when contrasted with the risk to her life.

  Because who was to say that she would not be the target of an assassination attempt at some point? She would be resented by those who didn’t want change, and she might draw the wrath of extremist groups.

  He could not allow that. Not ever.

  “Zafir,” she gasped, rushing over to him. She stopped short when she saw the bloody wound on his arm. Then her gaze lifted to his. Her voice wavered. “They said you’d been hurt.”

  Not as hurt as the assassin he’d disarmed. “I am fine, Genie. It’s not serious.”

  He wanted to hold her, reassure her. But he would not. Keeping his arms at his sides was one of the toughest things he’d ever had to do.

  “Do you know who did it?” Her eyes were huge pools of rainwater gray and tears trembled on the brink of her lashes.

  “Oh, yes. The conspirators will be dealt with, I assure you.” Once the would-be assassin had realized he’d failed, he’d spilled his guts to the police.

  Zafir said a quiet word to the bodyguard. The man went to stand outside the door.

  Once he was gone, Genie reached for Zafir’s hand. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you—”

  “Genie,” he cut in before she could say more. He must have spoken sharply because she fell quiet instantly. He squeezed her hand before letting it go. How could he do this? How could he send away the only bit of happiness he’d ever known? He drew in a painful breath. “I am sending you back to your camp.”

  She bit her lip, confusion playing across her expressive face. Her guard was down and every emotion she felt was there to read in detail. It pained him to look at her, but he would not look away.

  “Now? Today?”

  He nodded. “You have fulfilled your end of the bargain, and I will fulfill mine. You are free to go. Yusuf will give you all you need for contacting the proper authorities for the excavation. They will be told to cooperate fully.”

  She looked stunned. “I… I… Why, Zafir? Why now?”

  His heart was a lead ball in his chest. “It is time.”

  “Does this mean you’ve concluded your negotiations with the Sheikhs?”

  “Yes,” he said. “It is done.” Done because one of their number had tried to kill him in order to frame the other group for murder. The leaders were so horrified they would now do anything to demonstrate their loyalty. And he meant to take advantage of it.

  “That’s good. Congratulations.”

  “There is much work yet to be done, and you have served your purpose.” She winced when he said that, and he mentally kicked himself for it. “I can ask no more of you.”

  “Is this your revenge?” she asked. “Making me care for you again and then sending me away?”

  The words pierced him. For a brief moment he thought it might be easier to let her believe that, but he couldn’t do it.

  “No, Genie, this is not revenge. We are two different people now, from two different worlds, and it’s time we got back to them.”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I—” She swallowed “It was great to see you again.”

  “I enjoyed our time together.” A hard lump had formed in his throat and made it difficult to speak. He ignored it. Letting her go was right. For her, for him. She didn’t belong here, and he needed to get back to the business of governing his kingdom.

  He thought of her swollen with his child. It nearly overwhelmed his will to release her. “I trust you, Genie. You will tell me if there is a child?”

  “Of course,” she said, all business. “I would never keep that information a secret from you.”

  “Yusuf will give you my private number. Call me when you know.”

  She nodded. “Absolutely. If that’s
all, then? The sooner I get back to camp, the sooner I can get to work again.”

  She stood stiffly, like a soldier. Even her hands had disappeared behind her back. He imagined her clasping them together with military precision. She was already leaving him in her mind. How easily she returned to the life she’d led before.

  Perhaps his had been the only heart affected after all.

  “Goodbye, Genie.”

  “Goodbye, Zafir.” And then she was gone.

  *

  First came numbness. Then shock. Then anger. Then resignation.

  When Zafir decided to get rid of her, he certainly did it in style. A helicopter waited on the pad at the palace. Genie took one last look behind her before she climbed in, her heart aching. Did she really think he would suddenly appear and ask her to stay?

  She shook her head, wondering how a few days with him had so thoroughly undermined the foundations of her life. She was a respected archaeologist and researcher, and the sooner she got back to that life, the better.

  As the craft lifted off, she kept her eyes on the glittering domes of the palace. It was like something out of a fairytale—from a thousand and one Arabian nights. Unlike Scheherazade, however, she’d failed to please her king for more than a few nights.

  She still couldn’t believe that he’d dismissed her from his life so easily. That everything that had happened between them meant nothing. Or maybe she’d let it mean more than it should.

  But he’d touched her so tenderly, made love to her so fiercely. Claimed to want her desperately.

  Had it all been a lie?

  She watched the cloudless sky slide by and wished she’d never come to the desert.

  Another lesson learned, Genie.

  She supposed she should be thankful he’d ended it now, before she’d made a fool of herself and babbled her love. Before she’d mentally set up house with him and let her career fall by the wayside.

  Her mother had been right, in her own way. A man would take your love and then set you adrift to pick up the pieces of your shattered life when he was finished with you.

  She should be grateful the only pieces she had to pick up were the pieces of her heart.

  *

  When she reached the camp, she threw herself into work. Her colleagues were glad to see her, and they’d done much to repair the damage the last few days had wrought. The dig was well under control when Genie finally decided she’d had enough.

  Al-Shahar was two hours away by car, and she couldn’t stop looking for Zafir. She kept thinking he would arrive in a convoy of black vehicles, that he would climb out of a stretch Hummer, looking magnificent and exotic in his desert robes, and that he would tell her he’d made a mistake. That he wanted her to come back and be with him—that he loved her.

  Any lingering hope she’d harbored that she might see him once more if she were with child was dashed early one morning when she got her period as usual. That was the final matter that settled it for her. She made the call to his private line, left a message—had she really expected Zafir to pick up?—and told her team she was flying home to begin preparations for their next dig.

  It would be some weeks before they were ready to fly to Al-Shahar and begin work on the temples. But on the long flight across the Atlantic Genie came to another decision.

  She would not be returning to Bah’shar.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE weeks that dragged by seemed to last forever, but Zafir knew she would return soon. Genie would not abandon the temples. She might have pushed him from her life easily enough once he’d sent her away, but the temples would lure her back.

  And he wanted to see her. Needed to see her. She was still a fire in his blood, no matter that he’d tried to convince himself otherwise. He’d sent her away for her safety, and yet he couldn’t wait until she returned.

  He remembered her voice on the message she’d left him. She’d sounded so tough, so businesslike as she’d informed him there was no baby. The words had jarred him, and yet it was the outcome that was the best for them both.

  He’d thrown himself into work over the past weeks. The tension in the border region remained higher than he’d like, but it was difficult to eradicate years of mistrust in only a few months. There had been no violence, no raids, and he was pleased with the two Sheikhs’ commitment to peace.

  He’d also been looking at the code of law, and he’d made changes there as well. He’d brought new business to the capital by offering trade incentives, and he’d met with local business leaders and politicians to determine what their needs were for growth and stability.

  He’d traveled extensively over the last month, expanding Bah’shar’s ties to the world, but no amount of work had been enough to erase Genie Gray from his mind.

  Soon she would be in Bah’shar again. And he would go to see her.

  He knew precisely when the team of archaeologists arrived for their excavation. He’d kept out of the arrangements with the Ministry of Culture, but that date was something he’d had Yusuf find out for him. He waited two days past their arrival before he ordered a car and went to the temples.

  The ruins were a hive of activity that ceased immediately upon his arrival. A plump, graying man in khaki trousers and a dirt-streaked shirt hurried over.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, bowing low. “We are honored by your presence.”

  “You are happy with the arrangements?” Zafir asked politely.

  “Indeed, we couldn’t be more pleased. Everyone has been marvelous.”

  Zafir talked with the man who introduced himself as Dr. Dan Walker for a few moments more, scanning the site for any sign of Genie. None of the women he saw could be the feisty redhead he sought.

  “Excuse me,” Zafir said, cutting into Dr. Walker’s excited chatter about mosaics and pottery shards, “but where is Dr. Gray?”

  The man blinked. “Oh, I’m sorry. Dr. Gray did not accompany us.”

  Zafir frowned. “She is coming later, then?”

  Dan Walker’s pudgy cheeks glistened with perspiration. “Dr. Gray has opted to teach at university this semester, sir. She will not be a part of this excavation.”

  *

  The October air was crisp in Massachusetts, but the trees were absolutely gorgeous, their leaves turning various shades of gold and red that took her breath away. Caldwell University was a prestigious private institution with a long history and a top archaeology program, and Genie had come here as a guest lecturer for the semester. After that she wasn’t certain what she planned to do. There was a dig in China coming up, and she was thinking about signing on for it.

  She thought of her teammates in Bah’shar, of the temples and all they would learn. She envied them, and yet she knew she’d made the right decision. If she’d returned to Bah’shar she wouldn’t have been able to give her work the full concentration it deserved.

  No, she’d have kept looking toward the palace and daydreaming about a desert king in white robes, riding an Arabian stallion. As if she didn’t do enough of that already. A week in Bah’shar with Zafir had ruined her for another ten years at least. She’d never stopped loving him, and she could never be with him. What would it take to forget him?

  Death, probably.

  The bell rang and her students slapped their books closed and dashed out. As her next class filtered into her room, she made a few notes about the text and what she’d discovered while teaching it.

  A group of girls gathered by one of the windows. No doubt the latest, greatest university quarterback was strolling by outside. Tim Robbins? Tom Ribbens? Rob Timmens? She couldn’t remember, and didn’t really care—though a smile lifted one corner of her mouth as she remembered her own days at university.

  She’d had a crush on a football player for all of three weeks before Zafir bin Rashid al-Khalifa, the new man on campus, strode into a frat party and rocked her world. Nothing had been the same since.

  When it was time to begin class, the girls were still at the window, their chat
ter low and excited.

  “Take your seats, ladies,” Genie said. “We have a lot to cover today.”

  “There’s the most amazing sight out here, Dr. Gray.”

  “Yes, I’m sure that’s true, but please, let’s get to work.” Genie used her best stern teacher voice, which seemed to do the trick.

  The girls sat down and Genie stood up to begin her lecture. Movement outside caught her eye, and she glided toward the window as casually as possible while beginning to explain the complexities of identifying human bones and the importance of cataloguing them properly.

  A long car sat against the curb, and four men in dark suits with radio transmitters flanked it. There was a police car in front and back, and both had their flashing lights on. She could see a cop talking on the radio in the first car.

  Perhaps the Governor was visiting the school. Or Senator Hall. His daughter attended Caldwell.

  Genie made the trip back to the whiteboard and picked up the marker. She was just beginning to write a few notes on the board when the door swung open. A man who bore the distinct mark of a bodyguard walked into the room, and then another followed. They flanked the door and Genie turned to her students, wondering if Senator Hall’s daughter was in her class and she’d somehow forgotten it.

  She turned back just as a tall, dark man in an expensive suit walked in. He was handsome and regal and he fixed her with a hawk-like stare. Her heart skidded to a stop in her chest before beginning to beat double time. There was a collective intake of breath from her classroom. The girls, no doubt.

  “What are you doing here?” Genie blurted.

  Zafir’s sensual mouth turned down in a frown. “I have come a long way to speak with you, Dr. Gray. I had hoped your welcome would be more…appropriate.”

  Appropriate? What on earth was he talking about? If a Martian had walked off his spaceship and into her classroom she couldn’t have been more surprised than she was right now.

  She looked at her students, wondering if perhaps she was hallucinating. Surely their confused expressions would confirm she was crazy.

  But the girls were staring at Zafir in open-mouthed admiration; the young men were looking at him with curiosity.