Stolen Lives (Blood Brothers Book 1) (38 page)

“But Basheer did raise the alarm. He linked the theft back to you.”

“Yes.” I stare straight at Jasim. “And you did exactly what he expected you to do to a woman. You locked me up, and didn’t let me speak.”

Kadar spits out something in Arabic. He paces around the room as though that’s helping him get things straight in his head. He pauses, and looks at me directly. “Why didn’t you tell us any of this when we brought you here?”

I sigh. I’ve had weeks locked in the harem to think about that.

“I was scared. And then you hit me with the marriage contract. I thought you might throw me in prison. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. I didn’t expect Basheer to find out what I’d been doing, or have the confidence to expose me.”

“You should have told Nijad,” Jasim reminded me.

“I know.” I nod sadly. “But out in the desert, everything was so different. I got so immersed in my new life I put my former existence behind me. I would have told him eventually. But there was never a right time to start the conversation.”

Kadar puts his head on one side and regards me carefully. “Do you know why you hurt Nijad so much? Do you know why he locked you in the harem?”

A deep sigh. “I didn’t trust him.” I look up quickly. “But I didn’t lie to him. I just want the chance to explain to him.”

Rubbing his hands over his face Kadar looks intently at me, as if trying to access my sincerity.

“Miss Carson, Cara, what you have presented to us is convincing. Your only crime appears to be that you didn’t explain your actions or intentions.” He puts his head in his hands. “I’m not sure what Nijad will do. I’m not sure whether he’ll be able to forgive your lack of trust.”

Hunter is watching me carefully.

“Cara, even if these … gentlemen,” I have a feeling he was going to use another word, but decided to avoid committing treason, “do not consider your financial contribution to Amahad sufficient to buy you out of that contract, I can find the funds. You don’t need to stay here.”

Kadar gave him a sideways glance. “If the oil reserves are proven, the state will advance you an amount sufficient to void the contract. In any event, the increase in the value of our investments will soon equal the cost of buying you out of the contract.”

I look up sharply, my gaze going to one man, and then the other. I feel angry they are presuming to know what I want.

“You don’t understand. I’m not someone to be bought and sold at a whim.” I shrug disparagingly. “Well, not any more.” Standing up, I put my hands on the table and lean forward, ignoring the fact that this is probably not the right protocol to follow in front of the crown prince but, at this point, I couldn’t give a damn. “The contract can only be voided if
I
pay the money back. Am I right?”

“You are correct,” he agrees. A slow grin starts to spread across his face, as if he suspects what I am going to say next.

“Then I refuse to accept money from either of you, and the contract stands. As does the marriage.” I stand back, having made my point.

Kadar pulls himself to his feet, towering over me, but for once, I don’t feel intimidated. He observes me carefully.

“You’d prefer marriage to Nijad instead of your freedom?” At my nod, he continues. “Your strength, after all that has happened, astounds me. On behalf of Amahad, I will try to right the wrongs done to you. My brother, however,” he pauses, closing his eyes as though deep in thought, before continuing, “I can’t predict what Nijad will do.” Then he gives a crooked smile. “You are quite an amazing woman, Cara, and I’ll give serious consideration to you working in our ministry of finance. It seems there are some issues we may need your expertise in sorting out. In fact, I’d welcome you to our team. Rather with us, than against us. Nijad is a lucky man. I’ll do what I can to ensure he appreciates it.” He reaches out across the table, taking my hand in a physical gesture of support.

Gratefully, I give him a tentative smile. Then I look at Hunter, who’s sitting in his seat with a bemused look on his face. I think he probably realises his rescue mission isn’t going to play out the way he’d expected. That this prisoner has no wish to escape.

Cara

“Hunter! Come in!” I stand as the man in question enters my suite. He crosses the room and embraces me in a tight hug. Then, holding me at arm’s length, he stands back and examines me.

“You doing OK, sweetheart?” His eyes telegraph his concern.

I shrug. I’ve been better. It’s been a few days now since my name was cleared, and Nijad remains out of contact. But whether something’s happened to him or, he’s still got no wish to see me, I’ve no idea, and I hate living with the uncertainty.

“I’m doing all right.” There’s no point telling him everything’s fine; he knows me too well for that.

After another careful look, he turns his attention to the rather impressive suite I’m now occupying. “Nice digs!” He grins, glancing round at the expensively furnished room and into the bedroom beyond. No longer the harem for me. Since the meeting with the princes I’ve been accommodated in one of the suites reserved for visiting dignitaries. I have the freedom to go where I want when I want.

“It’s not bad.” I smile back. To me, it just feels empty.

His voice grows deeper, showing he’s serious now. “I don’t like leaving you here. I think you ought to return to England.”

He doesn’t have a clue how I feel.

“Hunter, I can’t leave Nijad. You don’t understand what it was like between us before it all fell apart.”

As I’m speaking, I walk over to the glass doors currently open on to the veranda, letting the warm, sweet-smelling air waft in. Stepping outside, I lean over the balcony and look out on to the well-maintained gardens below. Turning around, I rest my back against the railings.

“If there’s any chance that we can make it work, I want to take it. I can’t give up on him.” Even to myself I sound fierce, a woman fighting for her man.

Stepping out into the air to join me, Hunter raises up my chin so he can stare into my eyes. “You’ve changed so much, Cara. I part-love this new confidence you have, and part-hate it. I was happier when you were hiding away.”

I shake my head. “I’m not your responsibility any longer, Hunter. You don’t need to protect me.”

“No, your husband should be doing that. But instead, he has to protect you from himself!”

Blanching at the ire in his words, I move away from him.

“Nijad would
never
hurt me!”

“I can’t fucking convince you, can I? You’re thousands of miles from home; you’ve been forced into marriage. You’ve been imprisoned in a dungeon and you still won’t fucking listen!” He pushes his hair back from his forehead. “You never fucking listen. Fuck! If you’d listened, you wouldn’t have got yourself into this in the first place. I warned you where your hacking skills would lead you!”

I could respond with a matching anger, but I have far too much love for him to do that. Instead, I try to get him on my side.

“Hunter, I
need
to do this. My old life wasn’t a life. I’ve nothing to go back to. Foss said the consulate will check in with me regularly, so I don’t need you to babysit.”

Swinging away from me, he walks back into the sitting room of my suite. He should have left before today, but his ingrained sense of chivalry towards me meant he’d delayed his departure. But I don’t need him to look after me any more. I go to him and put my hand on his face. “I’ll be fine, Hunter.”

He stares at me carefully, looking into my eyes; he’s trying to read me. What he sees eventually convinces him of my sincerity and, I presume, my new-found confidence. In the end, he nods and says with a rueful smile, “Of course you will.”

****

Tahirah informs me of the invitation to meet the emir while I’m eating my breakfast the next day. I was tucking into a mouth-watering piece of baklava but now I push the uneaten part away, losing my appetite altogether. The fact I’ve been summoned to a meeting with the absolute monarch, knowing Kadar and Jasim will be in attendance as well, worries me. I’m not thinking about myself, or my position here in Amahad; all my concern is for Nijad, and whether I’m getting any closer to being able to see him again. A week’s gone by since Jasim told him of my innocence, but he still hasn’t made contact with me.
Has anything happened to him?

It’s my first meeting with the monarch, so when I enter the room I’m not too sure of the correct behaviour. My eyes flick around, taking in my surroundings, sending my mind back to the day they brought me to the palace, the day I was told about the inevitability of my marriage, unable to believe everything that’s happened since then.
Is the emir going to order me to give up and go home?

The office is fitted out to intimidate. Stern portraits of past rulers stare down from the walls, all looking judgemental and uncompromising. The desk is large, unmistakably an antique. On the worn green leather inlay, there is no computer or any other modern device. Apparently the emir is old-fashioned and prefers to work with paper; a thick pile of files covering one side of the desk bears testimony to the fact. The only thing which can be considered a personal item is a photograph and I can see it’s of a woman, a very attractive one at that, her headdress revealing large eyes, her mouth broadened into a wide and happy smile. I wonder if it’s a photo of his late wife. Glancing around further, I see he has a conference table set up, this time in front of the windows, large enough to seat about thirty people.

At a pointed cough, I turn and give my attention to the owner of the office, wondering whether I should curtsey. Like his sons, the emir is tall. His greying hair helps age him at around sixty to sixty-five. He has the same stern features as his heir apparent, but whether he was born that way or became like it due to the rigours of his office, it’s impossible to say. He’s giving me a long, hard look so I remember my manners, deciding not to curtsey, and instead settle on a low bow as I’d seen others doing. His reputation and presence unsettle me, and I’m thrown back into the past, ashamed of my scars and the way I look. But then I remember I’m his son’s wife, and even in his absence I want to make Nijad proud of me. So I pull myself up straight, holding my head high. The emir nods as I do so, but I get no real sense of approval. After all, I was not chosen as a wife because I’m royal material.

But then he surprises me, reaching out his hand to shake mine briefly.

“Sheikha Cara, I am pleased to meet you at last.” He stands tall, clasping his hands behind him, still regarding me intently. “I will not apologise for the way you have been treated, but I have to express my gratitude because you appear to have done Amahad a great service. Come, sit. We have much to discuss.”

He waves at the conference table.
Hmm – no apology but, at least, no threat of execution
. I suspect the emir rarely shows warmth, and I wonder what it would have been like for his sons, growing up with such a man without the benefit of a mother to counteract his coldness. I file my thoughts away; they could provide a useful insight explaining Nijad’s behaviour.

Before I have time to take my seat at the table, the emir’s two elder sons come in. Greetings are exchanged quickly. Coffee and pastries are laid out, and we take a few moments filling cups and plates. I stick with the coffee, not feeling able to eat in such exalted company.

The emir watches impatiently. He makes it apparent with his opening words that he wants to get straight down to business. With no introduction he taps his fingers on a paper file in front of him, to draw our attention to it.

“And it all checks out?” He questions his sons, and one hand rises to stroke his long grey beard.

“Everything. Obviously we need more exploratory wells to verify the estimate of the amount of oil there, but it looks good so far. And we’ll need to start talks with Alair,” Kadar assures him. “We’ve made real progress in the past week in beginning to get a team together.”

“I’ll take care of Alair. I’ll invite the ruling Sheikh Asad to talks. With the problems escalating between both our countries and Ezirad, a united front is essential. I do not see a problem with our two countries working together; there has been precedent set with other projects. And there is always Aiza.”

Jasim starts, almost choking on his pastry. Swallowing quickly, his mouth falls open.

“Father, you cannot be serious. Don’t you think we’ve had enough trouble with arranged marriages?” he nods towards me, while directing his question to his father.

“Your sister will do what she is told to do. And if a closer relationship with Alair would benefit us she will do have to do her duty.” The emir looks unrepentant. “I will discuss it with Sheikh Asad. He has three sons, I recall.”

My eyes widen as I realise he has just casually suggested marrying his daughter off to the son of a neighbouring ruler, apparently to consolidate oil rights. It’s an eye-opener and explains why they so readily accepted the solution of my arranged marriage. Who was I to complain about that? I bring myself back to the conversation in hand.

The emir makes an abrupt change of subject, his tone changing from contemplation to anger. “But what about Basheer? I still can’t believe it of the man.”