by Leslie North
Cursing under his breath, he tried to push the thought away. He was here to protect his daughter, not to bed her caretaker.
“Your Royal Highness?” Mohamet, his other favorite guard, stepped forward. “The King had to call some of his guards back after there was an incident at the palace. Would you like me to continue the inquiries in the village?”
“Incident?” Bahir looked sharply at him. “What kind of incident? Is everyone okay?”
“Yes, sir. It would seem that there is a traitor within the palace. One of the maids. Her letters were discovered.” The guard paused and then delivered the rest of the grim news. “She revealed the news of your daughter. They’re still trying to determine the extent of the damage and whether she was acting alone. The King has pulled Sheikh Riyad and the doctor back as well. It appears the maid also disclosed his intent to travel, and the King felt it would be best if he remained at the palace.”
Bahir gritted his teeth. That meant they couldn’t go back to the palace until the danger had been cleared. “What’s her connection to the rebellion?”
“The letters are to her brother. Guards are working with the authorities to locate him.”
Bahir inclined his head, thinking rapidly. “We’re secure here,” he said at last with a nod. “By all means, go and help. The sooner we can go home, the better.”
Mohamet nodded and stood straighter. “Yes, sir. It’ll be my pleasure to help bring these bastards down.”
Just then, Amy walked around the corner with a mug in her hand. She stopped short when she saw them and then continued on without a word.
Dismissing the guard with a jerk of his head, Bahir followed her into the kitchen. “How is she?” he asked. For some reason, he found it necessary to clear his throat.
“Better. She has some sniffles and has been coughing, so I’m going to make her another cup of tea to help.” Pouring some water from the jug, she lit the small fire and hung the teakettle over the flames. While they waited for the water to heat, she turned and started getting some of the other ingredients from the kitchen. The area was small, which meant that as he followed her movements, moving with her, they kept bumping into each other. Finally, she sighed and glared at him. “Is there something else that you wanted?”
“What does the tea do?”
“The steam loosens the congestion. The honey and lemon help coat her throat to ease the cough, and the turmeric reduces inflammation. My mom used to make it for me when I was sick.” She smiled at the memory, and Bahir narrowed his eyes and studied her.
“You loved your mother very much,” he said quietly.
“I did.” She didn’t say any more, but Bahir was curious about this woman who had packed her bags and moved halfway across the world with no apparent reason.
“Is that why you came here?”
“No.”
It was obvious that the American didn’t trust him, and he couldn’t blame her. He had uprooted her from her chosen place and forced her to come with him. “Her name was Amalia,” he said quietly. “Aisha’s mother. We had a casual relationship eight years ago. I had no idea that she was pregnant. According to the letters I found, she was cast out by her family because of her pregnancy.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why are you telling me this?”
With a shrug, he rubbed the back of his neck. “You think I’m a monster. I suppose I do, as well.”
“How did you find the letters?”
“I was actually sitting at my uncle’s desk,” a faint smile touched his lips, “and bothering my brother. In goofing off, I discovered a hidden compartment in the desk, and there, we found the letters. They were addressed to me,” he paused, “and stained with tears,” he admitted ruefully. His chest tightened, and he cleared his throat. “As it turns out, one of the maids who works in the palace is connected to the rebels. That’s how they found out about my daughter.”
He thought her face softened toward him, and she visibly relaxed. “Everyone I’ve met talks about your family with reverence. Why would they rebel against you?”
“My father started to relax some traditions. He wanted to bring Haamas into the modern era, and he managed it, slowly and wisely. The unrest didn’t become concerning until my brother married an American. Most of our people love Natalie, but there are a few who don’t approve.” Anyone who saw Iman and Natalie together could see the love they had for one another, and that love strengthened them. Bahir had never been the romantic type. Though now he had a daughter, he knew he would probably never find such a woman, yet he was happy for Iman. He knew that Natalie was good for Haamas.
Amy suddenly cocked her head, recalling his attention to her face. “Actually, I went to the marketplace to do some shopping for the children a few weeks ago, and a group of men followed me a little way. I didn’t think a whole lot about it. It was crowded, and even though I tried to blend in, I knew I stood out,” she knitted her brows in remembrance. “One of the vendors warned me to go home before the sun went down. Do you think it could have been the rebels?”
It might have been the rebels targeting her because she was an American, or a group of men targeting her because she was pretty. Either way, he wanted to rip their throats out. The sudden possessive streak surprised him.
As the kettle began to whistle, Amy turned away from him, and he realized to his relief that she hadn’t seen his reaction. He pressed on with a question. “Do you think you can describe them?”
Using the hook, she lifted the kettle and carried it to the counter. Grabbing a potholder, she carefully poured boiling water into the mug. “Not a chance. There were so many people there. Ouch!” she hissed suddenly and nearly dropped the kettle. Setting it down, she quickly stuck her finger in her mouth. “Hot. I’m not used to making tea this way.”
“Let me see.” Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and held her fingers up to ascertain the damage. Her beautiful blue eyes immediately dilated, and he couldn’t help but rub his thumb along the palm of her hand while he inspected the burn.
Her chest rose as she inhaled sharply. “It’s a minor burn, that’s all,” she whispered.
Staring intensely at her, he lifted the burned finger to his lips and kissed it. “Hopefully it won’t leave a mark. It would be a shame to let anything mar this beautiful skin.”
“Heart attack,” Amy blurted out suddenly after a moment thick with silence. “My mother. She died of a heart attack when I was ten. I went into the system after that. Excuse me. I need to get this tea to Aisha before it gets cold.”
She was an orphan herself. No wonder she was so defensive of his daughter. “Let me,” he said as he took the mug. “You go dip that burn in cool water and then wrap it up. I’ll tuck Aisha into bed and let her know that you won’t be sleeping beside her tonight.”
“I won’t?” Her eyes widened in alarm. “I thought you trusted me.”
“Take care of that burn, Amy,” he said with a small smile. “I don’t want you distracted tonight.”
8
The burn gave her barely more than a twinge, but she soaked it until she felt the sting begin to subside. As she headed to the bedroom, she stopped outside Aisha’s room and listened to Bahir speaking in that low, soothing tone of his. Amy could tell that the small girl was feeling better because she fired a thousand questions in rapid secession, and he patiently answered each one.
Amy smiled. Although she’d only known Bahir for a few days, her opinion of him was changing. He was obviously taking his fatherhood duties seriously. His guilt was all too evident. Even before he’d admitted the truth, she had seen it hovering around him like a dark cloud. It weighed heavily on him, and she found herself wishing she could help him lift that burden.
He was going to make an excellent father. He was already shining, and in such horrible circumstances. His daughter was ill, they were hiding in the middle of nowhere, and they were all in danger from a rebel group, yet the laughter in Aisha’s voice was enough to make everything better.
<
br /> Bahir was already in love with Aisha. That much was evident, and if Amy wasn’t careful, she might find herself in love with the man.
And that must not happen.
Abandoning Aisha’s door, Amy entered the sheikh’s room and found that her bag had already been brought in. She quickly took advantage of the momentary privacy to change out of her jeans and T-shirt and into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. It wasn’t the most appropriate thing to wear in the presence of royalty, but she hadn’t expected to be in this position when she’d packed for Haamas.
Grabbing her notebook, she curled up on the small couch across from the bed and began to scribble some notes. She couldn’t bring herself to include Aisha’s real identity and Bahir’s role in the story, but the rising rebellion was too good to pass up. The Herald had already purchased the six-story series, but Amy only had enough notes for two articles. She needed to up her game if she was going to complete six stories.
Including Bahir’s story would certainly make for a scandalous story, but scandal wasn’t her intent. She wanted to make a difference in the world. She wanted to bring light to the struggles here in the Middle East, struggles that were easily drowned out by the happenings in the war-torn nations around them. Salacious stories like bastard royal heirs wouldn’t raise awareness.
Instead, she focused on Aisha’s illness and the difficulties she’d faced to find a doctor and get the treatment she needed.
“You look like you’re hard at work,” Bahir said quietly from the doorway.
Startled, she looked up sharply and dropped her pen. It rolled a good distance away on the vibrant blue rug. Bahir walked slowly toward her and bent down to pick it up. “I suppose I should be concerned that I’ve kidnapped a reporter.”
“How did you know?” She narrowed her eyes. “You ran a background check on me from the middle of the desert?”
“Cell phones are a marvelous invention.”
“You don’t have a stove in your kitchen or running water, but you have cell service? Never mind. You don’t have anything to worry about. I care about Aisha too much to publish her rags-to-riches story.” Accepting the pen from him, she snapped her notebook shut. “I’ll give you some privacy to change.”
“That won’t be necessary.” With a wicked smile, he started to unbutton his shirt.
Amy’s mouth immediately went dry, and she turned her head and studied the bare whitewashed walls as if they were the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.
Her mind raced as she struggled to think of something to say, anything that would help distract her from the man who was rapidly becoming naked less than two feet away from her. “Your brother recently discovered that he has a daughter as well, right? Your family gets bigger by the second, doesn’t it?”
“My mother is thrilled,” he replied dryly. “Especially since Natalie has announced she’s pregnant again. My brother is eager to put this rebellion to rest before it gets out of hand.” He paused. “Are you going to stare at the wall all night?”
“I’m considering it. You have a younger brother as well, right? Does he have any kids?”
“No. In truth, I don’t think Riyad would even know what to do with a child. He treats Iris like she’s his drinking buddy.”
That did surprise Amy, and she turned her head sharply in response.
Bahir had changed into a pair of loose-fitting black lounge pants, but he remained shirtless, and for a moment, she forgot her train of thought. He was as fit and sculpted as she’d imagined he would be. Gorgeous golden skin spread over sinewy muscles, and those washboard abs were far too distracting. She salivated at the thought of touching him.
“See something you like?” he teased.
His voice dripped with arrogance, and she immediately frowned. He was gorgeous, but he knew it too well. “Your brother drinks? I thought that was forbidden to Muslims.”
“We’re relaxed about that, to a point, but Riyad drinks to excess, and that is still forbidden.” Crossing the room, he sat himself down, then leaned back, propping himself on an elbow and relaxing on the bed. “Come here. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”
“Umm.” The idea of biting had merit. “I think it might be better if I stayed on the couch.”
“Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself?” he taunted softly. “You can relax, Amy. I’m too tired to fuck you tonight, and you need your sleep. I know you haven’t gotten much sleep, the past few nights, and you won’t fit comfortably on that couch.”
Slowly, she got up and moved toward him. “That’s your only intention? Letting me sleep tonight?”
“It’s been a long couple of days,” he said with a shrug as he eased himself flat. “And this is the closest to a vacation I’ve had in years.”
“You consider this a vacation?” she chuckled as she slowly sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I guess it’s not the beaches of Miami.”
After a moment of hesitation, she stretched out next to him. Even fully clothed, the move felt far too intimate, but she still had to keep herself in check and fight the urge to snuggle up against him. “Just because a girl is from Florida doesn’t mean she spends her days on the beach,” she admonished. “It’s been years since I’ve had a vacation.”
As she reached out to turn off the light, he gently rested his fingers on her side. Electricity tingled between them, and she slowly eased down onto the pillow.
“The desert is peaceful,” he whispered in the dark. “Just you, miles and miles of sand, and the brilliant night sky.”
Plus, a gorgeous half-naked man in the bed, she added silently. His touch remained light, but he didn’t push it. After a few minutes, she could hear the rhythmic sound of his breathing and knew that he was asleep.
Part of her was offended. How could he so easily fall asleep when her heart was pounding away like a jackhammer?
His warmth enveloped her, and his presence calmed her.
Eventually, sleep claimed her.
She woke to something heavy nudging her legs apart. Still disoriented from sleep and blanketed in darkness, Amy stirred and accommodated the touch. A knee was pressing against her hot center, and she rubbed restlessly against it. Her nipples tightened and hardened against the warmth of the hand that cupped her breast, and she moaned. A thumb stroked her, circling around her nipple, stoking the fire inside her.
“Yes,” she whispered as she tried to turn toward the source of the pleasure, but a leg anchored her against the mattress. As the hand moved down to the waistband of her pants and slipped beneath it, she lifted her hips to welcome the caresses. There was no guilt or shame. Only pleasure, and she wanted more.
Those seeking fingers moved ever lower, pushing down her panties until they could skim over her wet slit. “Open for me, Amy,” a husky voice whispered in her ear. “Open for me, and let me feel you.”
Without a second thought, she moved her legs farther apart, and those wonderful fingers delved into her warmth. His thumb skimmed over her most sensitive spot, and pleasure seared through her. The sensation pulled her out of her haze, and she jerked upright with a gasp.
“Easy,” Bahir murmured. “It’s me.”
He continued to play with her, and in the darkness, she balled the sheets in her hand. “We can’t,” she protested half-heartedly even as she bucked against his hand.
“We’re not doing anything wrong. Enjoy it,” he coaxed. “Lie down, Amy. I want to taste you. I need to taste you.”
Hypnotized by his words, she sank back down in the pillows, and the sheikh, his fingers still buried inside her, leaned over her and used his other hand to tug on her tank top. With little effort, he freed one of her breasts as he nuzzled her neck.
Closing her eyes, she gave in to the hunger. His fingers strummed her, teased her; his wicked mouth left a wet trail from her neck down to her breasts, the heated kisses igniting a fire deep inside her. Arching her back, she moaned in approval when he closed his lips over her nipple and
flicked his tongue, making her hiss in response. All the stress of the last few days coupled with her growing arousal made her body tremble with a need that only this man could fill. Turning, she gave him full access to her body as she reached for him.
His skin was smooth under her touch, and she could feel his muscles ripple as she stroked his back. Amy reveled in his hard body, and she traced her fingers along his spine all the way up to the dark curls around his neck. Fisting his hair, she pulled him away and up so that she could finally kiss him.
There was nothing tentative about his kiss. Hot and heady, he took absolute control, leaving her dizzy and desperate under him. As his tongue thrust into her and matched the rhythm of his fingers, tension welled inside her. Moaning into his kiss, she shivered and raced her hands up and down his back until she knew there was no escape. Digging her nails into the muscles in his shoulders, she bowed her back and broke off the kiss as her orgasm broke. Her loud moan was muffled only when he captured her lips again, and she bucked under him as waves of pleasure crested through her.
“Again,” he hissed as he rolled over and carried her with him. Straddling his body, she rocked helplessly against his rock-hard erection. “Come again, only this time I want to be inside you. I need to be inside you.”
She needed him inside her as well. Leaning over to kiss him, she reached down to squeeze him gently through his pants. Just the thought of feeling him inside her set fireworks off in her mind.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
It took only a few seconds for her to realize that the noises weren’t in her head, and they weren’t fireworks at all.
They were gunshots.
9
Wrapping his arm around her waist, Bahir immediately rolled them over until they hit the floor, though he made sure he landed first. “Get under the bed,” he growled, pushing her toward the opening.
“Aisha!” she gasped. In the semi-darkness, he felt more than saw her pulling her clothes into place. She tried to break away to get to the little girl, making him tighten his grasp.
