A Golden Betrayal

by Barbara Dunlop

  Ann didn’t have an answer for him. She didn’t have the first clue about how a criminal mind worked. She did know a thing or two about the underground market in antiquities. It was thriving. And the bragging rights, never mind the monetary value of something like the Gold Heart, were immense. Raif was right. If a person knew who to talk to, complete silence was odd.

  “If not for gain,” Raif said. “That leaves harm.”

  “You think someone stole the statue to harm you?” Ann ran her mind through her knowledge of the Gold Heart. “The curse?” she found herself asking.

  “There is no curse.”

  She knew full well he didn’t believe it. But that didn’t mean others were as skeptical. “If there was, how would it hurt you?”

  “Ruin my love life, and that of my family, maybe keep us from getting married, having heirs. Perhaps change the line of succession. But we need to be realistic. We can’t waste any more time on dead ends.”

  “Unless the thief believed in the curse.” Ann carried her thought through out loud, her brain engaging in the mystery. “Then stealing it to harm you would make perfect sense. Who would become king if you didn’t have children?”

  “My cousin Kalila would become queen. Her son then king.”

  “Maybe she—”

  “No.”

  “You can’t be certain,” Ann argued.

  “It would be easier to simply assassinate me.”

  Ann straightened in shock. “You think your cousin would kill you?”

  “Of course not. Kalila had nothing to do with this. I’m saying, if the plan was to mess with the line of succession in Rayas, there are far more efficient ways to do it. If I’m the prime target—and that’s a big if—the theft messes with my credibility. It undermines the confidence of my people.”

  He paused. “But don’t forget the other side to this equation, Ann. You.”

  “Now, that’s a convoluted plot.” But it was more than a little unsettling that it had occurred to three different people.

  “It could have gotten you fired,” Raif noted.

  Ann was forced to nod in agreement. Then she drained her champagne. “Like you said about yourself, there are far easier ways to do it.”

  He didn’t answer, but his gaze told her she wasn’t changing his mind.

  She set down her glass. “You know, I normally lead a very calm, low-key life.”

  Raif chuckled, polishing off his own champagne. Then he checked the level of the bottle and filled both of their glasses. Ann wasn’t inclined to protest.

  “Seriously,” she told him. “I don’t know what goes on for the crown prince of Rayas, but my life is pretty ordinary.”

  He handed her her glass. “Don’t be so smug. The one and only time I’ve been on the front page of an American tabloid was with you.”

  Ann waved dismissively. “That was an anomaly.” At least, six months ago she would have called it an anomaly. Now, maybe not so much.

  “Somebody’s out to get you, Ann.”

  “That’s a bit melodramatic.”

  “They broke into my palace, not an easy thing to do. They dragged your name through the mud, put your career and your company at risk. I don’t know the book worth of Waverly’s, nor the investment of individual shareholders, but it’s got to be considerable. Who would hire you if you brought it down?”

  Ann had to agree a hostile takeover of Waverly’s had the potential to bring with it financial ruin for a number of people.

  “Don’t you want to know why?” Raif asked.

  “Of course I want to know why,” she found herself responding. She did. Who wouldn’t?

  He moved closer. “More importantly, don’t you want to stop them from doing more damage?”

  “But it’s over.”

  Whoever it was had failed. The Waverly’s Gold Heart was legitimized. Ann was in the clear.

  Raif shook his head. “It’s absolutely not over for me. I don’t have my statue back. And there’s the rather large matter of the revenge I’m going to exact. And, for you, if you’re the target, they’ll come at you some other way.”

  Ann’s stomach went hollow, wondering if Raif knew something more than what he’d already shared.

  “How?” she asked.

  “That’s the fun part. We have no idea. We don’t know who they are. We don’t know what they want. And we don’t know what they’ll do next.”

  Ann hated to believe him, but she was running out of reasonable explanations. Still, given all he’d put her through, she was under no illusion that she was his priority.

  “You have no reason to care about me,” she told him softly.

  He straightened. “I care about Rayas. My priority is my country. And I strongly suspect they’re still after you.”

  His words made perfect sense. She understood his reason for coming to her office, his reason for still being in the States.

  “I’m the bait,” she said flatly.

  Raif’s look was long and steady. “You’re the bait.”

  Her laugh was a little high-pitched, and once again, she downed the glass of champagne. “You want them to come after me again.”

  He didn’t deny it. “And when they do, I’ll know who they are.”

  “Diabolical,” she noted, thinking she wouldn’t want to go up against Raif.

  She’d been a bit of a fool to try it in the first place. The man was powerful, intelligent, cold-blooded and relentless. Then again, she supposed, with an entire country to worry about, he did have a lot at stake.

  “Come to Rayas,” he said softly.

  She jerked her head up to stare at him.

  He held her gaze with those dark, unfathomable eyes. “Come back to where it all started, and we’ll follow it through.”

  “Why?” How could he expect her to do that?

  “Because, when my problem is solved, so is yours.”

  “I didn’t like Rayas,” she told him. Not that she needed an excuse to say no. It was ridiculous for him to expect her to drop everything. And it was dangerous for her to trust him.

  Had she known he was so all-powerful as crown prince in Rayas, she might never have gone to his country in the first place. He needed her now, but she didn’t doubt for a second that he’d toss her in a dungeon, or worse, if she became an impediment to his objective.

  “What’s not to like?” he asked. “The weather is spectacular. The restaurants are good. You’d stay in Valhan Palace, be catered to morning and night.”

  “Until you decided to throw me in the nearest dungeon.”

  His expression faltered. “How can you even suggest that?”

  “Because you threatened it on more than one occasion.”

  “When I thought you a thief.”

  “And if you think I’m a thief again?”

  “I won’t.”

  “You might.”

  “I won’t, Ann.” He set down his glass, removed hers from her fingers and took both of her hands in his. “Come to my country. I will protect you. I will treat you honorably. And if you feel a moment’s discomfort or upset, I will immediately fly you home in my private jet. You have my royal word on that. My vow.”

  The warmth of his hands seeped into her skin. She felt weak, breathless and disoriented. She fought the sensations, knowing they were messing with her decision-making ability.

  “Your royal word means a lot in Rayas?” she stalled.

  “It means everything.”

  “I need to think about it.”

  “My jet is waiting.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not ready. I’m not packed.” As she voiced the protest, she realized she was seriously considering his outlandish proposal.

  Would going to Rayas flush out the thief? Were Raif and Heidi right? Was somebody still out to get Ann? Could Dalton possibly be mixed up in this? Or was this someone else altogether?

  She realized she needed to know who had messed with her life. She was willing to
go to some length to stop them.

  “I’ll catch up with you,” she offered.

  But Raif shook his head. “Whoever they are, I want them to know we’ve joined forces. I want to make them nervous. If they’re nervous, they’ll make a mistake.”

  She withdrew her hands, struggling for some semblance of rational thought. “I can’t just up and leave with you. I have a job, work to do, deadlines to meet.”

  Raif extracted his cell phone. “We can fix that. Who’s your boss? What’s his number?”

  She didn’t bother to mask her annoyance. “Is that how it’s done in royal circles? Are you going to threaten my boss, too?”

  Raif shot her a look of disdain. “What’s his number?”

  “I don’t have a single boss. The board of directors as a whole are my boss.”

  “Who’s in charge, Ann?”

  She gave in. Part of her was curious to see how this would go. She braced her hands and hopped up onto the desktop, rattling off Vance Waverly’s phone number.

  Then she listened in astonishment as Raif made Vance an offer he couldn’t refuse. If they’d let him take Ann to Rayas, he’d give Waverly’s Cosmo’s documents of incarceration into Traitor’s Prison, signed by Princess Salima’s father. As provenance went, it didn’t get any better than that. The Gold Heart’s value would go through the roof.

  Done with the bargain, Raif put the phone back into his pocket.

  “You are amazing,” Ann told him, in genuine awe.

  He shrugged. “I don’t like wasting time.”

  “You knew he couldn’t say no.”

  “That was the entire point. If you make someone a genuinely valuable offer, they don’t say no, and everyone goes away happy. Come to Rayas, Ann. Let’s put this mess behind us.”

  Ann wasn’t sure she’d call herself happy, but she had run out of reasons to say no.

  Seven

  The air in Rayas was hot and humid, saturated with the scent of jasmine and a sticky salt-tang that blew in from the Mediterranean. Ann gazed over Raif’s shoulder through the small doorway of the Gulfstream to the red carpet and the lineup of forty officials waiting to greet him.

  “You have got to be joking,” she muttered under her breath.

  “He’s been gone over a week,” said Tariq from close beside her in the small airplane foyer.

  “I could be gone for a year, and I’d be lucky to have Darby slow down for curbside pickup.”

  Raif chuckled in front of them. “Stop,” he ordered.

  “What?”

  “Making me laugh. I’m supposed to look dignified right now.”

  She moved to pat his shoulder, but Tariq snagged her hand. “Not in public,” he warned in an undertone.

  “Seriously?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  “Seriously,” he responded.

  Raif started down the stairs, and a band immediately began playing.

  “I’m assuming we won’t have to pick up our luggage at baggage claim?” she muttered to Tariq.

  “It will be brought to your room at Valhan Palace,” he answered.

  “I was making a joke.”

  “You’re very amusing. Remember, five paces behind him through the receiving line.”

  “Wouldn’t want to get thrown in the dungeon.”

  “Who told you we have a dungeon?”

  “Raif.”

  Tariq grinned. “Then he’s amusing, too.”

  “Are you saying Rayas doesn’t have a dungeon?”

  “In Traitor’s Prison. But that’s a historical tourist attraction.”

  “The rat.”

  “Who?”

  “Raif. He lied to me.”

  “Probably don’t want to call him that in public.”

  “Why not?” she scoffed. “Now that the dungeon’s off the table, how much trouble could it possibly cause me?”

  “It would be a serious breach of protocol. He’d have to kick you out of the palace. Probably there’d be pressure to kick you out of the country.”

  Glancing at Tariq’s profile, Ann realized he was serious. He could go from joking to dead serious in the blink of an eye.

  Raif reached the row of dignitaries, the first half dozen of them in military uniform. No women, she noted. As Tariq started down the short staircase, Ann tried to recall if she only had to stay five paces behind Raif, or if she was supposed to stay five paces behind Tariq, as well.

  Taking a chance, she started down directly behind Tariq, not wanting to be left on her own to negotiate the lineup. Then she sobered as she watched Raif moving his way along the line. The military officers offered him snappy salutes, while other men, some in business suits and some in traditional robes, gave abbreviated bows, one or two of them exchanging a word with him. At the end of the line, two men took up positions on either side of Raif, speaking rapidly and flipping through papers as they walked toward a row of limos. The car at the front had twin flags and bright door seals.

  She made to follow Raif, but a female military officer appeared from somewhere to walk beside her.

  “This way, ma’am,” said the woman, in accented English, gesturing to one of the other cars.

  “I’m with Raif.”

  The woman frowned.

  “I mean, His Royal Highness,” Ann quickly amended.

  “This way, please,” the woman repeated.

  “Can I at least ride with Tariq?” Ann wasn’t thrilled about being abandoned this quickly in Rayas.

  “The palace has arranged an escort.”

  Ann still hesitated. “What kind of an escort?”

  The military woman glanced around, looking uncomfortable. “This way, please.”

  Ann felt compelled to give in. Raif was already in the decorated car, and Tariq was climbing into the one behind. It looked as if Ann could either travel in her own car or be left behind at the airport.

  “Fine.” She nodded to the woman, moving in the direction she’d indicated.

  The chauffeur moved to the back door of a black SUV. Its windows were tinted, preventing her from seeing inside. The woman spoke to the man in rapid Rayasian. Ann could only cross her fingers that it was something good.

  He opened the door for her. As she climbed into the seat, she realized she wasn’t alone. She met the curious gaze of a young woman who looked to be in her early twenties. She was classically beautiful, with delicate features, subtle but artful makeup, a long ivory dress and a lovely gold, purple and white scarf partially covering her hair.

  “Welcome to Rayas,” the woman said in a lovely voice, with barely accented English.

  “Hello,” Ann responded, uncertain of what was expected, and starting to get a bit nervous about protocol.

  “I am Princess Kalila Khouri.”

  “Raif’s cousin?”

  “Yes.”

  Ann was astonished. “They made you come to the airport to meet me?”

  A slight smile crooked Kalila’s lips. “I am here to meet His Royal Highness.”

  “Oh, right. Of course.” Ann was growing even more confused. “But you weren’t in the receiving line.”

  “Women do not greet.”

  “Right. Okay.” Ann glanced down at her lap and swallowed. Maybe it would be better if she stopped talking for the duration of the trip.

  “You may call me Kalila.” Kalila’s voice was melodic and regal, but also kind.

  “Thank you. I’m Ann Richardson.” Ann automatically offered her hand. But then she wondered if she was allowed to do that, so she pulled it back.

  Unfortunately, Kalila produced hers at the same time, and Ann had to scramble to recover. It took a moment for them to sort it out.

  “I’m not very good at this,” Ann apologized as she briefly shook Kalila’s delicate, royal hand.

  To her surprise, Kalila laughed. “I don’t expect I’d fare too well in Brooklyn either.”

  “You’ve been to Brooklyn?”

  “No. Only as far as Istanbul.” A wistful look came over Kalila’s f
ace. “But I hope to see America someday.”

  “Tariq seems to get there quite often,” Ann responded. She realized women in Rayas didn’t have the same freedoms as women in the West, but Tariq was a cousin—surely he could act as an escort for Kalila if she wanted to come to New York. It wasn’t as if the royal family had a shortage of transportation options.

  “I doubt they’ll be letting me leave the country for a while.”

  Ann gave a nod of understanding. “The British boyfriend?”

  Kalila startled in surprise. “You know about Niles?”

  Ann immediately regretted the admission. She hoped she hadn’t gotten Raif in some kind of trouble. Then she wondered what exactly would get the crown prince into trouble. It seemed as though he was allowed to do pretty much anything he wanted, and the rest of the country had to suck it up.

  “I’m sorry,” she quickly put in. “While Raif, I mean, while His Royal Highness and I were trying to figure out who stole your statue, we had to share a lot of...” Embarrassingly, Ann found herself blushing. “A lot of information,” she finished. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to gossip about you, but, well, it was very confusing there for a while. He didn’t trust me. I didn’t trust him. And, then...”

  Kalila blinked in obvious astonishment. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. My cousin is free to say and do as he wishes.”

  “I didn’t want you to think we were gossiping. He seems very concerned about you.”

  Kalila’s shoulders squared slightly, and she folded her hands in her lap. “His concern is for Rayas.”

  “Well, yes,” Ann agreed. “But he is going to be the king.”

  Kalila’s lips pursed tight, her gaze stayed studiously forward. “I thought you might understand. I thought you would be progressive.”

  “I am progressive.” Ann couldn’t imagine anyone thinking anything else.

  She found herself becoming defensive. “I hold down a tough job in a man’s world. I live alone in Manhattan. I travel. I once slapped the face of the president of Elvio Corporation for, well, you can guess what for. And I sent the crown prince of Rayas on a wild goose chase to Santa Monica. Though,” Ann found herself remembering, “I don’t think Raif thought that was particularly progressive. Wait. I’m sorry. I meant His Royal Highness. Let’s just say he was not amused.”