Mortification drenched her, all the more so because the arousal coursing through her didn’t even slow down. She wouldn’t have been able to bolt out of the room even if she wasn’t pinned down by Shaheen. She couldn’t move.
She didn’t need to. Shaheen relinquished his possession of her flesh with utmost tranquility, rearranged her clothes with supreme care. Then he scooped her up from the bed and steadied her on her feet, smoothing her mussed hair, gently massaging her worried features.
With one last look of reassurance, one last, lingering kiss, he turned to his sister.
Aliyah looked an apology at Johara. It was clear she did have a paramount reason for being there. One she wasn’t about to divulge in Johara’s presence.
Seeing this unfortunate development as an opportunity to escape, Johara rushed forward to leave.
Shaheen’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“Please, Shaheen,” she choked out, hoping that Aliyah, who’d moved away discreetly, wouldn’t hear. “Let me go. I’ll soon be gone and you won’t see me again, for real this time. I beg you, for as long as I must stay in Zohayd, you must stay away from me.”
She bolted away, gathering the heavy layers of her silk dress in her hands so her stumbling legs wouldn’t snarl in their folds.
She still almost fell on her face when she heard his beloved voice behind her, intense, low, permeated with voracity and finality.
“There is no way I will stay away from you, ya joharti.”
Six
“This had better be good, Aliyah.”
Shaheen heard irritation sharpening his voice as he closed the door. He stood there, vibrating with the need to storm after Johara. Instead, he turned to Aliyah. He’d never been upset with her in his life, but he was furious with her now. Not because she’d interrupted his and Johara’s surrender to their deepening bond, or because he was seething with frustration. But because her intrusion had upset Johara, had given her another reason to pull back from him.
Johara evidently knew about the gravity of his situation, as often the families of those who worked in sensitive areas in the palace did. And she had extreme feelings about compromising him. She’d put them both through hell so she wouldn’t. She must think Aliyah witnessing their lovemaking the ultimate exposure.
And instead of only fighting the world for her, he now had to fight against her own anxieties, too. He had to convince her to stop trying to do what she thought was right for him, to let him worry about his problems, to realize his best interests lay in having her with him.
He still had no idea how he’d achieve that, but now that he knew she’d never really left him, still wanted him, he would renege on his promise to his father, to his kingdom. He would face anything on earth to be with her, come what may.
“Actually this is bad. As bad as can be,” Aliyah finally answered his exasperation, her voice measured.
And in spite of the situation and what she’d just said, his heart softened with love and admiration for her.
Aliyah had had the harshest life of them all, had triumphed over impossible odds. He still couldn’t believe how she’d come back from a prescription drug addiction that doctors’ misdiagnoses and overanxious parents had plunged her into, how she’d made the decision to face her addiction and the world alone at the tender age of sixteen. It never ceased to be a pleasure for him to see her so healthy, to watch her blossoming daily with Kamal’s love, settling deeper in contentment with the blessing of their happiness and two children and filling her position as one of the most beloved queens in the world.
He watched her as she approached with the grace of the old supermodel and the new queen. She was truly regal, dressed in honeyed-chocolate, the color of her eyes; she was as tall as Johara, if differently proportioned. But her every step closer struck a chord of foreboding in his heart.
She stopped before him, her turmoil more obvious close up. She gestured to herself. “See anything wrong with this picture?”
“Is this about you?” He took her by the shoulders, his eyes feverishly scanning her. “Are you …” He stopped, swallowed the ball of panic that suddenly blocked his throat. “Are you okay?”
She reached out an urgent hand to his face. “Oh, I’m fine. It’s not about me. It’s about these.”
His gaze followed her hand to where it rested on the magnificent diamond-and-precious-stone necklace gracing her swanlike neck. Matching earrings dangled to her shoulders and an elaborate web-ring bracelet adorned her wrist.
“What about them?” he asked, mystified. “Apart from looking more incredible with your beauty showcasing them?”
“Father did give them to me to showcase for this function. They are part of the Pride of Zohayd.” Shaheen nodded. He recognized them as part of the royal jewels, Zohayd’s foremost national treasure. “I was supposed to return them as soon as I took them off, as you know, but as I did I …”
“What? You … damaged them?”
If she had, Berj Nazaryan would fix them, and no one should be the wiser. Because if anyone found out, the situation would be grave.
Her gaze grew darker. “No. I discovered they’re fake.”
He gaped at her.
Fake. Fake.
The word revolved in his mind, gaining momentum, until it catapulted him forward to touch the jewels, to inspect them.
He raised confused eyes to her. “They look the same.”
“That’s the whole idea of good fakes. And these are nothing short of incredible.”
Logic tried to make a stand. “But you’re not a jewelry expert. And you probably haven’t worn those before.”
“I did far more than wear them. You remember I was almost catatonic when I was in my early teens? Well, my shrinks recommended I have a creative outlet as part of my ‘therapy.’ I wanted to paint, and the only thing I wanted to paint was the jewels. Mother Bahiyah got me into the vaults regularly to paint them.”
So she did know the jewels intimately.
Denial took over from logic. “But it’s been so many years since you saw them.”
“Time doesn’t make any difference with my photographic memory. Tiny discrepancies screamed at me from the moment I took a good look at them. But without comparing them to detailed photos of the originals, I’m sure no one else would notice. No one but the experts, that is.”
Shaheen felt the frost of dread spread through him. He’d seen evidence of her infallible memory. As a supremely talented professional artist, Aliyah used it now to produce paintings with uncanny detail.
If she thought the jewels were fakes, they were.
His shoulders slumped under the enormity of the conviction.
Aliyah joined him in the deflation of defeat, lowered her eyes, then exhaled and tucked a mahogany tress behind her ear. She lifted her gaze back to his. “My first instinct was to rush to Harres with this. I did try to call him, but he’s incommunicado. I then thought of Amjad as our eldest, but I realized it should be you I told first. For now.”
He blinked, nothing making sense anymore. “What do you mean?”
“My decision was based on your past connection to Johara and the special interest you showed in her tonight. But then I came here and discovered it was far more than special interest. This isn’t the first time this happened between you. I could tell. Your passion, the depth of your involvement, almost burned me from twenty feet away. You’re her lover, aren’t you?”
“You …” Shaheen shook his head, still trying to assimilate her revelations. And assumptions. “You think Johara has something to do with this?”
Aliyah let her shoulders drop. “I honestly don’t know what to think. Between father and daughter, Berj and Johara are not only among the few who have access to the jewels, they’re among the few in the world capable of faking them. And then, there is her sudden reappearance in Zohayd and in the palace.”
Shaheen’s numbness evaporated under the ferocity of the need to defend Johara. “She came back for me.”
&n
bsp; Aliyah’s gaze grew wary. “Is this what she told you?” He looked at her helplessly, because Johara hadn’t said that. Aliyah went on, her voice more subdued. “She came back three weeks ago. I was here visiting mother Bahiyah the day after her arrival. And I met her. She said she came back to see her father. The father who resigned his post as royal jeweler just before the reception.”
This time when she fell silent, Shaheen felt he’d never be able to talk ever again.
When the silence grew too suffocating, she sighed. “I can’t believe either of them could do something like this, either. But then, who knows what’s been going on with Berj? Mother Bahiyah told me tonight she wasn’t surprised when he quit, said he hasn’t been himself for a while. She said he’d been getting more morose, withdrawn, empty-eyed. And then he had a heart attack.”
The new shock forced his voice to work. “Ya Ullah, when?”
“Three months ago.”
“Why did no one tell me?” Berj, the endlessly kind and patient, stunningly creative man, like his son and daughter, had always been one of the dearest people to Shaheen. He loved him more than he loved any of his uncles.
“According to mother Bahiyah, he made Father promise not to tell anyone, even his family,” she assured him. Then she reluctantly added, “But maybe he felt his mortality, knew he wouldn’t be able to work for much longer. Maybe our enemies got to him.”
“To offer him what? Financial security? Do you think Father didn’t reward his two-decade career with our family more generously than anything anyone else could offer? Though the job has never been about money for Berj, he can now live a retired life of leisure and luxury. And if he doesn’t want that, he can afford to start his own business. He doesn’t even have any dependents to worry about. All his family are financially independent in their own right.”
“He might have a problem that depleted his funds—gambling, for instance.” Aliyah shrugged. “I’m as confused as you are. I’m just pointing out that he hasn’t been himself. And then, Johara has changed beyond all recognition, on the surface. What if she’s changed on the inside, too, and—”
He growled his unconditional belief in Johara, cutting Aliyah off. “No. No, she hasn’t. She’s still our Johara. My Johara.”
Aliyah looked at him with the same caution she would look at an enraged tiger who might lash out at any second. “I never really knew her, but I always got good vibes from her. I only met her again that day three weeks ago, then again tonight. I did like her again on sight, much more now that we’re both grown-up. But though I don’t see her as a manipulator, I do get the feeling she’s hiding something. Something big.”
“It’s her relationship with me.”
“No. I felt it again just now, when there was … nothing to hide about that anymore.”
He glowered down at her. “You won’t make me doubt her.”
“I’m just presenting you with the facts. I’d hate to think anything bad, let alone something that bad, of Berj and Johara, but right now I’m at a loss to come up with another explanation.”
“There is another explanation. Everything you mentioned is circumstantial evidence. Nothing more.”
“True. But we can’t afford to overlook any possibilities. This is too huge, Shaheen. The fate of the royal house—the whole kingdom—depends on it.”
Silence crashed again.
At last, Aliyah drew in a ragged breath. “What shall we do?”
“You will hand back the jewels as if you didn’t notice anything. And you will not say anything to anyone. Starting with Amjad and Harres. Give me a few days to sort this out.”
“Are you sure, Shaheen?”
There were no hesitation in him. “Yes.”
Aliyah chewed her lip, worry etched on her face. “I did want to give you a chance to sort this out. But that was before I walked in on you and Johara. You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Shaheen only nodded. He was. Irrevocably. She exhaled. “Are you sure you can handle this? Do you think you can be objective?”
He wouldn’t even dignify that with an answer. “Give me your word that you’ll let me handle this, will let me recruit Harres and Amjad into the matter at my discretion.”
“You’re going to search for proof Johara and Berj have nothing to do with it, aren’t you? What if you don’t find any? What if we don’t have the time for you to investigate?”
“We have time.”
“How do you know that?”
“Think about it, Aliyah. The forgers probably faked all of the Pride of Zohayd collection, or they would have somehow made sure you were handed authentic pieces to wear tonight. But since no claim has been leaked that we failed to protect the jewels from theft, the thieves and forgers are waiting for the time when the biggest scandal can be achieved.”
Horror dawned on Aliyah’s face. “The Exhibition Ceremony!”
He nodded grimly. “Yes. And that’s still months away. So we have time. And I will take every possible second of it. Give me your word that you’ll let me have it, Aliyah.”
Aliyah’s expression filled with conflict as she met his gaze head-on. He struggled to bring his emotions under control so he wouldn’t give her more cause to doubt his judgment.
She finally nodded. “You have it. And Kamal’s, too.”
“You told him!”
“I tell him everything.” She suddenly dragged him into a fierce hug. “If you love her like I love Kamal, I wish nothing more than for you to prove her innocence, that you can have her and love her.”
He hugged her back for a long moment. Then he kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him one last time then walked out.
Shaheen staggered to the nearest chair, sank down onto it.
It was all too much to take in.
The bridal ordeal, finding Johara here, what happened since. Now Aliyah’s discoveries. Their possible explanations and ramifications. Yet one thing trumped it all.
Johara wasn’t here for him. She was here for her father.
Yet the realization didn’t pain him. She thought she had no place in his life. She hadn’t thought she could come back for him. In fact, it must have been torture for her to attend the reception tonight. To not only know he was getting married to someone else, but to watch him pick that wife.
And Berj had chosen tonight of all nights to hand in his resignation, and hours later, Aliyah discovered that his paramount duty, safeguarding the jewels, had been compromised.
No. He couldn’t doubt him. And he would never doubt Johara. There was another explanation.
But until he found it, this was a catastrophe in the making.
The Pride of Zohayd jewels were far more than the foremost national treasure.
Legend had it that each piece of jewelry opened doors where none existed, attained coveted results where they had seemed impossible, courted monarchs’ favor, brought true love, achieved undying glory and even cheated death.
Five hundred years ago, when tribal wars in the territories that had yet to become Zohayd were at their peak, Ezzat ben Qassem Aal Shalaan knew that on the day the leadership of his tribe fell to him, he’d need more than wisdom, power and military triumphs to bring an end to the conflicts and gather the tribes under his rule.
He’d followed the history of each jewel, charted an infallible plan to possess them all and wield unparalleled authority. To his father’s horror, he left the tribe when he was only eighteen and went on his quest to collect those jewels from all over the Asian continent.
It took him twelve years to do it, but on his return, the tide turned in his tribe’s favor, and within months, he’d united the tribes and became the first king of Zohayd. Together, he and the jewels had become known as the Pride of Zohayd.
The jewels became the symbol of the royal family’s entitlement to the throne. Legend went on to say that they remained in no one’s hands if unworthy of the privilege and power.
Each year for the past five centuries, Aal Shalaan monarchs had held a week
of festivities to renew their claim to the throne, culminating in a grand ceremony to exhibit the jewels to representatives of the Zohaydan people as proof that the Aal Shalaans remained the rightful rulers of the land.
There was only one reason the jewels would be stolen and replaced by fakes.
This was an insidious plot to overthrow the ruling family.
For what felt like hours, his mind raged with scenarios and solutions. Each time one started to seem possible, he slammed into a dead end.
He felt he’d been battered by the time he got to his feet, a basic plan—the only one he believed could work—in mind.
To set it in motion, he had to get away from the palace.
And get Johara out, too.
She had to get out of here.
That was the only thing on Johara’s mind since she’d stumbled away from Shaheen.
All through the palace to her quarters, she’d struggled to walk naturally and greet the workers who were everywhere in the aftermath of the reception, undoing its havoc.
By the time she reached her room, she couldn’t remain upright, slumped against the door to stop herself from collapsing to the ground.
Her body was still in turmoil, her whole being rioting. She wanted to run back to Shaheen’s quarters and throw herself in his arms. Come what may.
But she couldn’t. Ever again.
And not only would she be deprived of him forever, she’d probably be here to witness his marriage, if her father still needed her by the time it came to pass.
“I did it.”
Johara’s heart almost burst through her ribs. She swung around, found her father walking in from her suite’s kitchenette. He looked as if he’d aged another ten years.
“I handed in my resignation to the king.”
So he’d finally done it! He’d attended the reception with her, stood beside her for most of it, and hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t said a word, period. He was taking this even harder than she’d thought.
The desolation in his voice sent compassion surging through her, propelling her to him so she could hug him, absorb his misery.
Desert Jewels & Rising Stars Page 70
