Emily didn’t realise she’d stopped breathing as she took in the words on the screen. Shock and fear chased around her mind. This was the last message from her sister. The last one. It was a week old. Seven days of silence.
‘Emily? Is something wrong?’
She looked up to find Zageo watching her, his brow lowered in concern. The trapped air in her lungs whooshed out as she mentally grappled with Hannah’s situation. Her mouth was too dry to speak. She had to work some moisture into it.
‘Hannah is a prisoner in her own home,’ she finally managed to blurt out, silently but savagely mocking herself for railing against being Zageo’s prisoner. That was a joke compared to what her sister was going through—her sister and nieces and brother-in-law.
‘They might be dead now, for all I know,’ she muttered despairingly.
‘Dead?’
‘Read it for yourself!’ she hurled at him as she erupted from the chair, driven by a frantic energy to pace around the room, to find some action that might help Hannah. ‘You wanted proof of my story?’ Her arm swept out in a derisive dismissal of his disbelief. ‘There it is on the screen!’
He moved over to the desk, accepting the invitation to inform himself.
Emily kept pacing, her mind travelling in wild circles around the pivotal point of somehow getting Hannah and her family to safety, right out of Zimbabwe if possible. She did not have the power or the resources to achieve such an outcome herself, but what of the Australian Embassy? Would someone there help or would diplomatic channels choke any direct action?
She needed someone strong who could act…would act…
‘This is not good news,’ Zageo muttered.
Understatement of the year, Emily thought caustically, but the comment drew her attention to the man who arranged his world precisely how he wanted it, wielding power over her without regard to any authority but his own. She stopped pacing and gave him a long hard look, seeing what had previously been a very negative aspect of him as something that could become a marvellous positive!
Maybe…just maybe…Sheikh Zageo bin Sultan Al Farrahn could achieve what she couldn’t.
Veronique had said he owned a private jet. Almost certainly a helicopter, too, Emily reasoned. With pilots on standby to fly them.
Building his hotel chain throughout Africa must have given him powerful political contacts in the countries where he’d invested big money. Apart from which, his enormous wealth could probably bribe a way to anywhere. And out of anywhere.
Zageo wanted her in bed with him.
Emily had no doubt about that.
He’d also once wanted Veronique in bed with him—and for the satisfaction of that desire he’d been prepared to give away what was surely a multimillion dollar apartment in Paris.
A hysterical little laugh bubbled across Emily’s brain. Jacques had tried to trade her to the sheikh in return for his freedom, and here she was, planning to trade herself to him for her sister’s freedom.
Which would turn her into the whore he’d first thought her.
Emily decided she didn’t care.
She’d do anything to secure the safety of Hannah and her family.
She’d try the trade.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ZAGEO parted from Emily as soon as they returned to the palace. He wanted to alleviate her distress, if possible, by finding out if the Coleman family had survived this past week. He had instructed Abdul to pursue inquiries in Zimbabwe, so some useful information might have already been acquired.
Zageo no longer had any doubt that Emily had spoken the truth all along, and everything he’d learnt about her made her a more fascinating and desirable woman, certainly not one he’d want to dismiss from his life at this early juncture.
They would meet for dinner, he’d told her, hoping to give her news that would clear the worry from her eyes. He wanted her to see that having his favour was good. He wanted her to look at him with the same deep and compulsive desire he felt for her. And he wanted her to give into it.
Abdul was in his office, as usual, more at home with his communications centre than anywhere else. He was amazingly efficient at keeping track of all Zageo’s business and personal interests. If he didn’t have the information required at his fingertips, it was relentlessly pursued until it was acquired.
‘The Coleman family…’ Zageo prompted once the appropriate courtesies had been exchanged.
Abdul leaned back in the chair behind his desk, steepling his hands over his chest in a prayerful manner, indicating that he’d decided this issue was very much in the diplomatic arena. ‘The M written in the register at The Salamander Inn stands for Malcolm. His wife’s name is Hannah. They have two young daughters—’
‘Yes, yes, I know this,’ Zageo cut in, quickly recounting the e-mail he’d read at the inn to bring Abdul up-to-date on where the situation stood to his knowledge. ‘The critical question is…are they still alive?’
‘As of today, yes,’ Abdul answered, much to Zageo’s relief.
He could not have expected Emily to be receptive to him if she was in a state of grief over the deaths of people he had never met. She would want to go home to her parents in Australia, and in all decency, he would have had to let her go.
‘However…’ Abdul went on ominously, ‘I would call their position perilous. Malcolm Coleman has been too active in protesting the policies of the current regime. His name is on a list of public antagonists who should be silenced.’
‘Is the danger immediate?’
‘If you are concerned for their safety, I think there is time to manoeuvre, should you wish to do so.’
‘I wish it,’ Zageo answered emphatically.
There was a long pause while Abdul interpreted his sheikh’s reply. ‘Do I understand that Miss Ross will be staying with us beyond Monday, Your Excellency?’
‘Given that her sister’s family can be rescued, yes, I have decided Miss Ross’s companionship will add immeasurably to my pleasure in this trip around our African properties.’
‘Ah!’ Abdul nodded a few times and heaved a sigh before bringing himself to address the problem posed by Emily’s family. ‘Quick action will be needed. The pressure is on for Malcolm Coleman to give up his farm and leave the country but he is persisting in resisting it. Defying it.’
‘Intent on fighting for what he considers his,’ Zageo interpreted.
Abdul spread his hands in an equitable gesture. ‘It is a large and very profitable farm that has been in his family for three generations. It is only natural for a man to wish to hold onto his home.’