Amjad’s sculpted lips twisted, the provocation in his gaze only rising as he looked down at her. “First you let Shaheen sink into Johara’s thrall without throwing so much as a cursory rope and now you’re eagerly rushing to join the collective of beached men. Is she pregnant, too? At least, was she any good…” Amjad allowed a beat for her to start to seethe, for Harres to take offense for real before he continued smoothly. “…for any info we can use?”
Okay. All right. The verdict was in.
They hired this guy to teach goading in hell.
The other three men had slipped away midconfrontation, went back to the helicopter to prepare it for the return flight. And, no doubt, to give the brothers a chance to have at it.
Though Amjad was formidable, Harres was clearly the more physical one and there was no doubt who would win in a fight. That was, if Amjad didn’t fight dirty. Which she was sure he would, and did.
Keeping her hand clasped in his, Harres said with Amjad’s same lethal tranquility, “I’ll say this once, Amjad. Talia is my woman, my princess.” Talia almost collapsed. Harres was saying what he wished for, wasn’t taking into account the implausibility of it all. It felt like heaven. And like hell. And he was going on. “I owe her my life, and I have no life without her from now on. Deal with it. Nicely. Or else.”
Suddenly Amjad addressed her. “See this? Your man, your prince, hits a snag, and he threatens, and may I add, employs, physical violence. Tut, tut. A bleak prognosis for a future with him, don’t you think, doctor?” Then he swung his eyes to Harres. “And I had such high hopes for you. Have fun in your new life of mind-numbing sameness and soul-destroying emotional servitude.”
Before she could finally set him straight, on so many accounts, before Harres could elaborate on his gag order, Amjad turned away, gave the oasis people who’d come to say goodbye a whimsical wave and headed back to the helicopter.
Then, as Talia hugged everyone who came to see her off, crying rivers with Harres beside her promising their return, the aggravating man had the nerve to honk.
Talia’s return to the capital was the total reverse of her departure from it.
Going back in a royal helicopter surrounded by princes was certainly something she couldn’t have even dreamed of when she’d been kidnapped twenty days ago. But being next to Harres as the real world approached made her realize the depth and breadth of the lifetime they’d lived together during that time.
After they landed in the princes’ private airport, Talia changed into the clothes Harres had had delivered there, while he changed, too, before they drove to the palace in separate limos.
He told her they couldn’t afford to have her tied to him. Apart from those who knew the truth, everyone thought he’d dropped off the radar on a mission as usual. But the traitors in the palace would know what this mission involved. If she were seen with him, they’d work out her true identity. So she’d arrive at the palace as a friend of Laylah, his cousin. Once that was established, he’d pretend to hook up with her, and it would seem natural to everyone that he’d be interested in the blonde beauty.
She told him she’d reconnect with her informant, get the rest of the promised info. And he forbade her to. He wouldn’t risk her in any way, not even if the kingdom hung in the balance. He would find another way to discover the truth.
Then, reluctant to leave her but having matters to attend to, he gave her a cell phone so they could call each other until he could start seeing her again. Which he intended to be as soon as possible.
It took arriving at the palace—which was right up there with the Taj Mahal, just far more extensive—to take her mind off the turmoil of their situation, off feeling bereft at being away from him.
When she’d researched Zohayd before coming there, she’d read that the mid-seventeenth-century palace had taken more than three decades to build, and thousands of artisans and craftsmen to build it. But it was one thing looking at detailed photos, no matter how stunning they’d been, and something totally different treading this place with her own feet, feeling the history and grandeur saturating the walls and halls surround her, permeating her senses.
Just being there explained so much about Harres, how such a powerhouse had come into existence. The nobility and power and distinction, the ancient bloodline that had forged this place coursed through him. From what she’d seen of his relatives, it also did in them.
And no matter what he said, she had to do all she could to protect this legacy. Even if she hadn’t fallen in love with him and would therefore do anything to protect him and his loved ones, Harres had been right. The whole kingdom was steeped in peace and prosperity. She’d been prejudiced when she’d thought that it would be better off without the royal family that had clearly done so much to produce and maintain that.
But if she played her cards right, she might help bring the danger to Harres and his family, to the kingdom and the whole region, to an end.
Just as she began to call her informant, reinitiating contact, her alibi for her long absence rehearsed, the phone came alive in her hand.
Knowing it was Harres, she pounced on the answer button.
His beloved voice poured into her ear. “I have news, ya habibati. The investigations and negotiations I had my family do while we were in the oasis bore fruit. Your brother will be released from prison. There won’t be a retrial, just the charges dropped and he will be given a public apology in every international newspaper and anything he demands in compensation.”
To say she was overcome would be to say her love for him was a passing fancy. She began to babble her shocked elation and thanks when he said, “I beg your forgiveness, ya nadda jannati. There is another pressing thing I have to attend. I’ll call again the second I can. Until then, congratulations, ya mashoogati.”
She stared at the phone, reeled. Todd. Released. It was over. Really over. She’d have her brother back. He’d have his life back. It was too much to take in. Harres hadn’t told her that he’d been working to exonerate Todd already. But he had been, and he’d succeeded. And she knew it had all been for her.
She fell on the bed and curled into a tight ball. She felt she might explode from too much love and relief and gratitude otherwise.
Then she burst up in a frenzy of purpose, dialed the number of her informant. She was told the number was no longer in service. She tried again, just to make sure she hadn’t dialed it wrong. She hadn’t. It must have been a temporary number so it couldn’t be tracked. On the same thought, she went online, shot him an email, listing her phone number.