A Golden Betrayal

by Barbara Dunlop

  “The fewer people who knew the better.”

  “But this is me. Me, Raif. I’m your partner. Did you bring me all the way to Rayas just to lie to me?”

  “I didn’t lie.”

  “You let me think—” Ann swallowed. “You let me put Kalila in terrible danger. Those men, they—” She couldn’t go on. Her hands started to shake, and her throat clogged up, and she couldn’t breathe.

  Raif folded her into his arms, holding her tight.

  “They drugged us,” Ann said.

  “I know.”

  “They threw us in the trunk of a car.”

  “I know that, too.”

  “I thought we were going to die.”

  “Tariq’s friend Jordan had men who saw it happen. They followed the car.”

  Ann couldn’t stop shaking.

  “We’re almost back to the palace.”

  Tears leaked out of her eyes. “Thank you. For coming after us. For saving us.” If he hadn’t...

  “Oh, Ann.” He kissed her hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “What am I going to do with you?”

  They went quiet as the vehicle hummed along the ocean highway. The dark water stretched away on one side, business fronts and streetlights rose on the other, creating a strobe through the interior of the SUV. Her clothes, damp from the wet floor, were seeping water into Raif’s suit, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. He was warmth and strength and security, and she needed them all right now.

  He answered a couple of phone calls as they drove, speaking to people in Rayasian. They pulled through the palace gates, and her shaking finally subsided.

  “Did they find it?” she managed to ask. “Was it there?”

  “No. At least not yet. They’re still looking, but I doubt the Gold Heart was hidden anywhere in that basement.”

  “Will the men you captured talk?” asked Ann.

  “Unlikely. I’m guessing the ones who grabbed you were pretty low in the hierarchy. They’ll be more frightened of Amar and Zeke than they are of me.”

  “You’ve been watching them.”

  “Yes,” he sighed.

  “Hoping they’d lead you to the statue.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And I blew it.”

  “Kalila helped.”

  “It wasn’t her fault. Seriously, Raif.” Ann knew she could leave Rayas anytime she wanted, but Kalila had to stay here and face her cousin’s wrath.

  “You should probably worry about yourself,” said Raif. “You know, you have ridiculously underdeveloped preservation skills.”

  “I live in New York City,” she said defensively.

  “It must be an awfully friendly place, or you wouldn’t have lasted this long.”

  The vehicle pulled into a big garage at the palace.

  “Someone will bring you some dry clothes,” said Raif.

  The driver opened her door, and she straightened away from Raif’s embrace.

  “Don’t move,” Raif told her, exiting from his own side to round the vehicle and come to her aid.

  The driver stepped back out of his way, and Raif gently helped her to her feet. A woman was there immediately, draping her in a robe. Ann was acutely aware of her disheveled hair and how her face must look, smeared with mascara and who knows what from the floor of the basement.

  “Can we take the tunnels?” she asked Raif in an undertone.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. But you’re going to have to brave this one out.”

  As they started to move, Ann caught a glimpse of Kalila. She was surrounded by several maids who seemed to be doing their best to put her back together. Ann wished she could go to Kalila and apologize. But Raif was whisking her through the garage, down a hallway and up the stairs.

  * * *

  Raif had been assured that Ann and Kalila were bathed and comfortably sleeping. Although the search continued, there was no sign of the Gold Heart statue. And none of the men they’d arrested were talking.

  Raif sat behind the desk of his private office, once again facing Niles Walden-Garv. The man had helped with the rescue, but had not been allowed to see Kalila.

  Niles sat in a black leather chair while Tariq stood off to one side.

  “I’m here to ask for her hand in marriage,” said Niles.

  Raif didn’t hesitate. “No.”

  “I have my queen’s permission.”

  “Kalila does not have her king’s. She is promised to another.”

  Niles sat forward. “She told me they are not yet engaged.”

  Raif clamped his jaw.

  “He disarmed three of the kidnappers,” Tariq put in.

  Raif glared at his cousin. “That is irrelevant.”

  “This man may have saved Her Royal Highness’s life,” said Tariq. “And I’ve been thinking this through.”

  Raif silently warned his cousin to shut up.

  But Tariq wasn’t finished. “He also has family ties to Wimber International and Iris Industrial.” Both of the companies were massive financial conglomerates with huge influence over global trade.

  “Whose side are you on?” Raif demanded.

  “There are no sides,” said Niles.

  Raif turned his anger back to the marquess.

  “We all want Kalila to be happy,” Niles finished.

  “Some of us want Kalila to do her duty,” said Raif.

  “What is her duty?” Niles asked reasonably.

  “To put the family ahead of herself.”

  “As you will,” said Niles.

  “As I will,” Raif agreed.

  “With Ann Richardson?” Niles asked.

  Raif swore he could feel his blood pressure rise. “Ann Richardson is none of your business.”

  “I’ve been watching you,” said Niles. “Listening to you talk about her. Watched you ignore your own safety and the advice of your security force to save her. You’re in love with the woman.”

  “Irrelevant,” said Raif, even though his heart swelled painfully in his chest.

  He knew Niles’s words were true. There was no other explanation for how much he needed Ann, for how terrified he’d been when she was in peril. And how cripplingly relieved he’d felt once she was safe in his arms.

  He’d fallen in love with her.

  And he couldn’t have her.

  And he might as well be cursed for how badly it was going to ruin his life.

  “You will be king,” said Niles. “And that means you cannot marry an American commoner. I understand. But Kalila is unlikely to become queen. And I am not a commoner. Would you deny her happiness simply because you can’t have it yourself?”

  “Cease,” Raif ordered.

  “Wimber International and Iris Industrial,” Tariq repeated, switching the focus of the debate. He obviously understood that an emotional argument was not going to sway Raif.

  And it wouldn’t have swayed Raif. At least not in the past. But then he’d met Ann. And now he knew. He knew exactly what torment he would visit on Kalila if he denied her permission to marry Niles.

  “She loves me,” said Niles. “And I love her. I have vast financial resources and considerable power at my disposal. Surely you realize how hard I will fight for her.”

  A polite knock sounded on the door. An aide cracked it open. The man hastily beckoned to Tariq.

  Moving toward the door, Tariq glanced over his shoulder to Raif. There was a warning in his tone. “An Algerian alliance is all well and good. But this is Britain. Britain.” He disappeared into the outer foyer.

  Victory was evident in Niles’s eyes as he followed up on Tariq’s point. “I am Britain,” he reiterated.

  “She needs the king’s permission,” Raif warned.

  The door opened again, but this time, both double doors were pulled wide by two military guards. Tariq appeared, his expression grave. He stood at attention for a moment, then bowed deeply.

  When he rose, his voice was thick with emotion as he addressed Raif. “Your Majesty.”


  Everything inside Raif froze to absolute stillness.

  “The king has died.”

  Ten

  Ann awoke to the sound of horns over the city. Dawn was only just streaking the sky to pale pink, and cool air still wafted its way through her open windows. Since arriving in Rayas, she’d become used to hearing the horns at sundown. But this was the first time she’d heard them in the morning. And the song was different, somehow discordant.

  She rose to a sitting position, raking her fingers through her messy hair that had still been damp when she’d fallen asleep. Her head felt clearer this morning. Whatever drug the kidnappers had used seemed to have worked its way out of her system. Her bath had been scented with vanilla last night, and the servants had disposed of her torn clothes, so all traces of the dank basement where she’d been held captive were now removed.

  She shuddered at the memory. Then she remembered Raif’s strength and bravery when he’d rescued her. Sadly, she also realized he wasn’t through chastising her. She was willing to admit she deserved it. But that wasn’t how she wanted to spend her limited and precious time with him.

  She heard voices in the hallway outside her room. She moved back the covers, swinging her legs to the floor, expecting a knock with one of the maids offering tea and pastries. But the voices passed by.

  Then she heard more people, footsteps moving fast past her door, louder voices that weren’t in the usual morning calm of the women’s wing of the palace. She shrugged into a robe and moved to her bedroom door, opening it to look outside.

  The wide hallway was a hive of activity. People seemed to be rearranging the furniture that lined the walls. They were up on ladders, reaching to light fixtures, removing portraits from the walls, replacing decorative pottery with candlesticks.

  Ann blinked, gazing one way and then the other. Did this have something to do with their abductions, or at least Kalila’s abduction? Were new security measures going into place? There was chatter going on, but it was all in Rayasian. She didn’t understand a word.

  Puzzled, Ann withdrew to her bedroom, quickly washing up and dressing for the day. She chose a simple pink silk dress that Kalila had helped her buy. It was full-length, and the cut was loose, the fabric light, and it was very comfortable. She slipped into a pair of light cloth flats and padded out into the hallway, heading for the breakfast room to find Kalila.

  The servants watched her intently as she passed, chattering to one another in hushed tones. All the activity had to be about the kidnapping. They obviously knew Ann had been involved. She wondered if the palace staff would ostracize her after this for having put Kalila in danger.

  Down a few flights of stairs, she made her way to the breakfast room. When she arrived, Kalila was there. It was far busier than usual. Kalila was surrounded by three security guards, two of her personal maids and three other men who looked like the aides that helped Raif with palace business.

  Everyone stared at her, looking shocked.

  Ann came to a halt. Just how angry were they with her?

  “Kalila?” she said.

  One of the maids spoke in rapid Rayasian.

  Kalila spoke back, and the maid cast her gaze to the floor. Then Kalila came to her feet, expression grave, moving to Ann.

  She took Ann’s hands in hers. “You must change your clothes,” she instructed.

  Ann glanced down at the pink gown, suddenly realizing everyone else was in black.

  “It is King Safwah,” Kalila said in a grave tone. “He has passed away.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Ann blurted out, feeling like a fool.

  She quickly stepped backward, out of the breakfast room, back up the stairs to rush down the hall, cognizant this time as to why everyone was staring and whispering. She’d disrespected their king.

  No, not their king.

  King Safwah was dead.

  Raif was king.

  Beyond her guilt, beyond her sorrow for Kalila and the Rayasian people, there was the one thought that echoed insistently through Ann’s mind. Raif was king, and everything was about to change.

  Back in the privacy of her room, she hunted for something black. The dresses she’d acquired since arriving in Rayas were all festive and brightly colored. Her best and only choice was the black slacks she’d worn on the plane from New York. She had also brought a dark gray tank top, and she covered it with a black cardigan.

  She switched from the little cloth Rayasian shoes to a pair of black leather pumps. Only then did she dare venture out.

  She realized now what they were doing to the hallway. Decorations were being replaced by the symbols of mourning. The horns were playing to inform the people of their loss.

  She moved more slowly this time, back to the breakfast room, uncertain of what she should do.

  It was even more crowded now. People were clustered in conversations, maids were serving coffee and pastries, which nobody was eating. The chairs were all filled, so Ann stood close to a wall, feeling like an interloper.

  Then, suddenly, Raif entered the room, followed closely by Tariq.

  Everyone instantly jumped to their feet, bowing low.

  They separated to clear a path between Raif and Kalila, who had remained seated. She rose, bowing to her cousin. “Your Majesty.”

  Ann expected her to rush into Raif’s arms, for Raif to hold and comfort her, and for him to accept her comfort and condolences in return. But he merely nodded his acceptance of her greeting.

  Then Tariq stepped forward and appeared to take control of the room. Ann couldn’t tell, because he was speaking Rayasian.

  Raif looked around the room, pausing for the briefest of moments when his gaze met Ann’s. His features were cool, stern. There wasn’t a flash of recognition nor a flare of desire.

  He might as well have held up a sign telling her it was over. There was no place for her in his new world.

  His gaze moved on, and Ann sidled her way to the exit. She rushed back down the hallways and staircases of the palace, telling herself to suck it up. She’d known all along it was going to end. And Raif had far more important matters to worry about than an American ex-lover.

  Back in her room, she located her cell phone. She had a travel agent on speed dial, and quickly arranged a return flight to New York City. After the arrests of the kidnappers last night, they’d find or not find the Gold Heart based on a Rayasian police investigation. Ann couldn’t help anymore. Not that she’d been any help so far. In fact, she may have blown their entire operation. The memory was sobering.

  She pulled her small suitcase out of the closet and quickly packed her things. She didn’t have a plan for a ride to the airport. But the few times she’d been out with Kalila, they’d simply walked through the front door and taken one of the waiting cars. Ann had no idea if it would work when she was on her own, but she was going to give it a try.

  Case in hand, she found her way to the grand staircase. The hallway and the foyer were as busy as the rest of the palace, with people making changes to the decor. She moved unnoticed down the stairs, making it halfway through the foyer before Tariq’s strong hand grasped her arm.

  “Hey,” she protested, trying to yank away.

  “He wants to see you,” said Tariq.

  “He doesn’t need to ask me personally. I’m already leaving.”

  Tariq nodded his acceptance of her decision, but began to propel her away from the front door.

  “There’s no need,” she hissed. Raif should be with his family right now, his sister, the people he’d known all this life, the people who loved him and had loved his father. He had a responsibility to the Rayasian people, and Ann was an interloper.

  She was a grown woman. She didn’t need false, flowery words from Raif. In fact, she felt sick at the thought of a goodbye. What if she cried? What if she begged?

  Tariq didn’t bothering responding.

  She renewed her struggled to get free. “Tell him you couldn’t find me.”

  “Lie to my k
ing?” Tariq scoffed.

  “Lie to my lover,” Ann retorted. “Ex-lover. Please, Tariq, this will only be embarrassing for both of us.”

  “He wants to see you,” Tariq repeated.

  “Doesn’t he have more important things to do?”

  “Many.”

  “Then let him do them. You’re his friend, his advisor, Tariq.”

  Tariq nodded. But then he opened a door in front of them, propelling her inside the dim room, closing it behind her, while he stayed outside in the hall.

  Ann blinked to adjust her eyes. As she did, Raif moved toward her in the small parlor, skirting a pair of armchairs to meet her by the door.

  Her throat went dry at the sight of him. “I’m so sorry, Raif” was all she could manage. “So sorry for your loss.”

  “You were going to leave? Without saying goodbye?”

  She adjusted her grip on the suitcase. “You seemed busy.”

  He removed the suitcase from her hand, setting it down on the floor beside them. “That’s no excuse.”

  “I don’t want to get in the way, Raif.”

  “You were never in the way.” He paused. “Okay, you were pretty much always in the way. But that doesn’t mean you can leave without goodbye.”

  “So, you agree I have to leave?” The moment the words were out, she regretted them. She wasn’t begging, but she was definitely hinting.

  He took her hands, and the sensation of his touch rushed like wildfire through her body. She was forced to fight tears of regret. This was the last time he was ever going to touch her. Likely, it was the last time she would ever see him.

  “The risk is too high,” he whispered.

  She nodded. Of course it was too high. The king of Rayas couldn’t have an American lover.

  “I have a funeral to plan,” he said.

  She nodded. She knew how much he’d loved the king. And she thought she understood at least part of the burden that had just come down on his shoulders.

  “It is I who am sorry.” He moved closer. “I would give anything right now to be just a man. If I could, I’d give it all up to spend my life with you.”

  Ann blinked rapidly, eyes burning, shaking her head. “You don’t have to let me down easy.”

  He gave a cold chuckle. “I’m letting us both down hard. I love you, Ann.”