The Sheikh's Scandal

by Holly Rayner

  Sarah thought about that. It could work. In any case, it might be her only option. Before she could comment on it, plates of steaming-hot meats and spiced vegetables were set on the table, and, not wanting to offend Fariq, she filled her plate and took a bite.

  The food was delicious.

  “This is amazing!” she said, her appetite instantly restored.

  Fariq smiled, pointing his fork at her.

  “I told you. Don’t things seem a little better now?”

  Sarah took another hearty bite of a spiced beef dish, relishing in the sensation of the perfectly cooked meat as it nearly melted in her mouth.

  “You know, I think they do,” she said with a small smile.

  They enjoyed a nice dinner, finishing it off with a petite glass of sweet red wine and a custard Sarah had never tasted before. She paid for the meal, and she and Fariq made their exit, happy and full.

  “Would you like a ride back to your hotel? Free of charge!”

  Sarah grinned.

  “You are far too nice. You’ll be out of a job if you keep giving people free rides.”

  “Only the special ones,” he said with a wink.

  Sarah laughed.

  “Fair enough. I appreciate the offer, but after that meal I think a nice walk would do me a world of good.”

  “Suit yourself, Sarah Chamberlain. I hope that our paths will cross again soon. It isn’t very often one meets someone as friendly as you.”

  “Likewise. I imagine I will be quite friendless until we meet again.”

  “Nonsense. You can win over the people of Al Jayah; it just takes a little bit of time.”

  “Something I definitely don’t have.”

  “Or so you think,” Fariq said, holing out his hand for her to shake. “This is how they do it where you’re from, right? A hearty handshake?”

  Sarah placed her hand in his, squeezing it firmly.

  “Exactly. And this is how I say farewell to you,” she said with a bow, her hand on her heart.

  “You’ve learned much in your short time here.”

  “It’s been quite the experience,” she said, not sure if she was ready for it to end.

  She bade one final farewell to Fariq, waving him off as he hopped back into his cab and sped away. She watched until he disappeared, and then she turned in the direction of her hotel.

  Sarah had never felt more crestfallen in her entire life. She should have known that this whole trip had just been a failure waiting to happen. Now she was out a couple thousand bucks when she needed to be saving more than ever.

  What had she really expected? This had been the obvious outcome all along.

  Kicking at a pebble, Sarah kept her eyes down as she made her melancholy way back to her hotel. When she entered her cozy little room, she plopped onto the couch and stared out at the mountainscape in the distance, thinking of nothing in particular, her mind tired from puzzling out so much so fast. In a flash, Fariq’s words came back to her.

  What if she did write a letter to be published in the newspaper?

  Sarah’s flight back home was the following day. It had been the cheapest she could do, coming out for only a couple of days, but she knew she would never regret trying. Her mind repeated the question that continued to haunt her.

  What if?

  As she thought, her body rose of its own will, and before she knew it, she was back at her laptop, penning a letter, asking the world to help her find that missing boy from long ago. She pasted in the picture of the letter from her phone before reading it through several times. Next she found every major newspaper in Al Jayah and submitted her letter to each and every one.

  When she was finished, she sat back and stared at the screen.

  “If you’re here, Ali, this is my last chance to find you.”

  Thinking about heading home the next day without any closure, Sarah ran a weary hand across her eyes before making quick work of going to bed. With a full belly and a tired body, sleep came easier than it had in quite some time.

  NINE

  Sarah was dreaming about skipping rocks along the river with Ali when she was jarred awake by a loud ringing.

  Shooting up, her head spun as she fought to make sense of where she was and what was going on. She was in her hotel room. The phone was ringing. Gathering her wits, she answered the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss Chamberlain? This is a courtesy call that you are to vacate the room in thirty minutes, as your reservation is about to expire. Please do so. Thank you.”

  Without waiting for a reply, the woman ended the call, the dial tone buzzing in Sarah’s ear.

  Ugh, jet lag was the worst.

  Rubbing her eyes, Sarah let the dust settle in her thoughts as she fought to wake up. She realized then that her flight was going to take off soon, and if she didn’t get up and get running, she was sure to miss it. Jumping off the bed, she threw all her clothes and her laptop into her suitcase and ran to the elevator, shifting from one foot to the other while she waited for it to climb to her floor.

  She pondered calling Fariq but thought better of it. She didn’t have time to say good-bye to him properly, and she didn’t want to end their relationship that way. Instead, she waved for a random cab and enjoyed a silent ride to the airport, sweat trickling down the back of her neck.

  As she burst through security, Sarah arrived at her gate just as they were boarding, and she paused to take a deep breath. Before she could release it, her vision was blocked by two large men in black suits.

  “Are you Sarah Chamberlain?” one of the men asked.

  Sarah had to crane her neck to look at him, which was saying something, because she had always been tall. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

  “Yes. Why? Did I do something wrong?”

  “You need to come with us,” the other one said, grasping her arm.

  Sarah looked at his grip on her before she jerked her arm back and glared at him.

  “Tell me what I did and I’ll go with you.”

  “We don’t have time for this,” the first one said, replacing the other’s grip and dragging Sarah out of line.

  “I have rights! I at least have the right to know why you’re taking me away! My suitcase is on that plane!”

  The guards ignored her as they dragged her back out through security and to the front of the airport. Sarah felt a wave of panic crash against her ribcage as she looked toward where they were taking her. Stepping outside of the airport, they walked directly to a long black limo. Guard number two pulled open the door and pressed her head down, forcing her to slip inside.

  “What is going on?!” Sarah yelled as they slammed the door in her face.

  Fighting back tears, she whipped her head around the limo until her gaze crashed into a pair of dark brown eyes. Sarah blinked, stunned, as she stared at the man sharing the limo with her.

  “Hello, Sarah,” the man said, his voice smooth as peanut butter.

  He looked perfectly calm, cool, and collected. He was a stark contrast to her hot, sweaty fear, and she stared at him in silence, completely at a loss for words.

  “My name is Ahmad bin-Yousuf al-Jayah. I am the Sheikh of Al Jayah. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You…you’re…” she stammered, watching him with wild eyes.

  He was far too young and handsome to be a country’s ruler. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered the conversation she had heard the day his motorcade had blocked her from the records office. They had said he was handsome, but this was a whole other level. His chin was perfectly angled and clean shaven, and his hair shot up at a cocky angle that somehow still managed to look royal. His eyes were the color of dark chocolate, and they regarded her with a deep mistrust that she couldn’t begin to understand.

  “You are capable of speaking, are you not?” he asked, and Sarah’s eyes narrowed.

  “I am when I’m not being manhandled into a strange car against my will. What do you want with me? Am I under ar
rest for something?”

  The Sheikh lifted one perfectly sculpted, haughty eyebrow.

  “Why would you possibly be under arrest? My need for you is simple. You put out a search for Ali Al-Jamil, and I need to know why.”

  “Ali?” Sarah asked, bewildered.

  What did the Sheikh of Al Jayah care about some tiny orphan from twenty years ago?

  “Yes. Do try to keep up, will you? You put out a letter seeking Ali Al-Jamil. I would like to request that letter from you and determine why it is you have come looking for him.”

  In spite of his handsomeness, Sarah found that she greatly disliked the Sheikh. Who did he think he was, kidnapping a woman just to ask about some stupid search? Still, she knew that the ball was not in her court, so she answered his question as best she could.

  “I live in Miami. A few days ago while I was sitting on the beach a little bottle floated my way, and that bottle held a message from Ali from when he was ten years old. I wanted to come and let him know that the message has been found and that he could have a friend, if he still needed one.”

  “That was twenty years ago. You really think the man has no friends?”

  Ahmad’s tone was sharp as knives, but Sarah merely crossed her arms, suspicious. How did he know Ali? Clearly the two had to be connected for him to care. Were they old friends? Did he know something she didn’t?

  “How do you know that was twenty years ago?” she demanded.

  Ahmad reached by his side and pulled up a folded newspaper, placing it on the seat between them. Glancing down, Sarah saw that her letter had made the cut and had been published in at least one of the papers she’d submitted it to. It was a tiny thrill to see that, even though her circumstances seemed a little dire.

  “I really don’t see why this is a matter of national security. I came here trying to help a man get closure for a message he sent decades ago. In response, the Sheikh of Al Jayah throws me into a car and demands to know all my secrets—as if I haven’t already had the coldest greeting in the world from the people of your country. Now it’s all starting to make sense!”

  Ahmad seemed taken aback by her comment, and he stared at her thoughtfully for several moments. Refusing to be cowed, she stared back at him, her arms firmly crossed, and waited for him to explain himself.

  “You are not under arrest. However, I would ask for a little more of your time, if you can provide it.”

  “Do I have a choice?” she spat.

  Ahmad’s lips twitched into a slight smile, which was maddening and arousing all at once. Sarah hated that her body responded to him that way. He was holding her hostage!

  “No, you don’t. But if it’s any consolation, I can have a wonderful luncheon provided for us at the palace, and I think you will enjoy our cuisine even if you haven’t enjoyed our people.”

  “Most of them,” she muttered.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Nothing,” Sarah said, not wanting to give away that she knew Fariq and that he was her one friend.

  It seemed as though any connection to her would lead to some kind of arrest, which wouldn’t bode well for any of the few people who had deigned to be kind to her. The limo pulled away from the airport, and Sarah stared back at the terminal, grateful she had been allowed to at least keep her purse. She’d be dead before she let the Sheikh know that Ali’s bottle was safely tucked inside, zipped into a deep pocket.

  They rode in stony silence as Sarah looked purposefully out the window. Every once in a while she would peek back at the Sheikh through the corner of her eye, and every time she did she found him watching her. She wasn’t sure if it made her excited or angry, and the mixture of emotions made her feel beyond hopeless. What was she going to do? She glanced up through the tinted window and saw a plane taking off, likely the one she had been meant to be on.

  What would become of her now?

  The limo took them out of the city limits and down a long, winding road. Through the side window, all Sarah could see was a tree-dotted landscape. It wasn’t until the limo turned in front of the palace that she got her first glimpse of Ahmad’s home.

  Towering pillars rose up on either side of a huge central building, into which were carved elaborate swirling patterns and shapes. The palace itself was a combination of silver and gold, which made it shine like the sun, reflecting the orb’s golden light. For a moment, Sarah was grateful to have the tinted windows to block the blinding glare of it, but she couldn’t help but admire how beautiful the space was.

  The limo pulled up to a pair of towering, curved doors and stopped, the engine still running. Sarah heard the driver exit the vehicle and walk around. Shortly after, he opened the door to the limo. Sarah looked back at Ahmad with an arched eyebrow.

  “Permission to exit the vehicle without shackles, Your Highness?”

  Ahmad nodded, completely unaffected by her sharp tone. He gestured lightly toward the door.

  “By all means. There’s nowhere you can run off to, Sarah, so I highly recommend you accept my hospitality.”

  “You call this hospitality?” she asked, incredulous.

  “I’ve invited you to lunch. I think that’s rather hospitable, don’t you?”

  Sarah huffed and exited the vehicle before she got careless and slapped the man for his impertinence. He’d had her forcefully pushed into his secret vehicle, driven off to some remote palace, and now he was basically saying she should thank him for it. Idly, she wondered where her suitcase was—likely somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean by that point.

  Stepping into the hot sun, Sarah took a few steps toward the palace, unable to resist admiring the artwork engraved all along the sides.

  “This palace was built by the third reigning Sheikh of Al Jayah. It took well over a hundred thousand workers and twenty years to complete. He was an old man by the time he could actually enjoy it.”

  “How fascinating. Do go on,” Sarah said, her tone dry as wood.

  Ahmad ignored it again. The man was a beast. An annoyingly handsome beast, sure, but a beast nevertheless.

  “He got to live another ten years, working on the interior, before he died an untimely death.”

  “Is there ever such a thing as a timely death?” Sarah asked, stopping Ahmad in his tracks.

  Ah ha, she thought. I can affect you somehow.

  “No, I suppose there isn’t. You never told me you were such a philosopher.”

  “What, in the thirty minutes we’ve known one another? I hardly think we’re in the category of good friends. Then again, perhaps I should ask what you know about me. Would you even tell me the truth?”

  “Why wouldn’t I tell you the truth?” he asked, a little forcefully.

  It was as though she had struck a nerve, though she had no idea why. Up to that point, Ahmad had been completely unaffected by her prickly behavior.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you had two guards shove me into a blacked-out car and you refuse to tell me why.”

  “I did tell you why. I want information about Ali Al-Jamil, and you continue to refuse access. It’s fairly simple, really.”

  Sarah thought about giving him the bottle and ending her misery, but then she held her purse a little tighter, irrationally loyal to Ali and his words. Before entrusting them to Ahmad, she needed to know what his motivation was. For all she knew, Ali could be a wanted man and his handwriting could give him away or something. The possibilities were endless.

  “Yes, well, as soon as you decide to provide me with information, I will consider releasing some of my own. Until then, Your Highness, it would appear we are at a standstill.”

  The heat was beating down on her head, and Sarah felt her cheeks warming in the desert sun. Noticing this, Ahmad seemed to remember his manners, and he headed toward the front doors, which had been opened in anticipation of his arrival.

  “Come inside then. There’s no need for you to get sunstroke and then be unable to speak at all.”

  “Please, you’re far too conside
rate,” Sarah said, her tone scathing.

  Ahmad seemed to like the fact that she was irritated, and she thought she caught him grinning, which irritated her beyond comprehension. She stood stubbornly outside for a moment, watching him go in by himself, before the heat became too much and she was forced to follow.

  What else was there to do? He was a king holding her hostage over a message in a bottle that was twenty years old.

  What did you do, Ali?

  When she stepped inside, the cool air enveloped her as a young woman in flowing white robes approached with a silver tray laden with a variety of cool drinks in golden goblets.