Under the Sheik's Protection

by C. J. Miller

  In the end, what had been their undoing was Saafir’s cowardice to make a stand about his life and his personal relationships. He viewed the role of emir as a servant to his country, but that didn’t mean his entire life had to be dictated by the position.

  His phone rang and Frederick’s number lit up the screen. He had never been so happy to see his old friend getting back into action. Saafir excused himself and answered the call.

  “Enjoying your vacation?” Saafir asked.

  Frederick harrumphed. “I suppose you think putting me up in a five-star hotel with attendants to see to my every need will keep me away.” His tone was good-natured.

  “I can only hope to have you back with me soon,” Saafir said. “I’ve missed having you around. No one to hammer on me about the important stuff.”

  “Would one of those important things be Sarah’s pregnancy?”

  Saafir almost dropped the phone. “Excuse me?”

  “I received a message from a friend at an American tabloid. They’re planning to run a story that Sarah is pregnant and the baby is yours.”

  It was possible. Improbable, since he and Sarah had been careful. “That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “Maybe you should check in with Sarah,” Frederick said. “If this is some fabricated nonsense, it will go away on its own. If there’s truth to it, then we need to get ahead of it.”

  Saafir agreed with Frederick. He wasn’t sure what to think about the rumor. Sarah would tell him if she was pregnant. After he’d sent her flowers, he had hoped to hear from her. Her silence was telling. Was she hiding a baby from him? Scared of his reaction?

  He had already decided to ask for Sarah’s forgiveness, but if there was a baby in the picture now, Sarah would have to allow him a role in her life. He wouldn’t stand for his child to be fatherless and suffer the way Sarah had as a child.

  * * *

  “We need to talk.”

  Sarah whirled around at the sound of Saafir’s voice. She lowered her phone, momentarily forgetting the disturbing article she’d been reading that was proclaiming her to be pregnant. A reporter had found out that Krista had bought a pregnancy test and connected her to Sarah and then to the emir.

  Saafir looked good. Too good. Wearing a tuxedo for the ball at the embassy, he was a handsome treat for her eyes. She had forgotten how majestic he was, and seeing him brought to the surface how much she had missed him. She wasn’t expecting her catering staff for another hour and the ball wasn’t scheduled to start for another two. “You’re early.”

  “And apparently, you’re late.”

  The news article. He had seen it, too. Of course he had seen it. His PR team had probably alerted him the moment the incorrect story had hit the internet. “There’s been a misunderstanding.” She didn’t want to tell him about Molly. It was Molly’s private news and her story to share with Adham and anyone else when she was ready.

  Saafir’s eyes darkened and he closed the distance between them. “Were you going to tell me?”

  Sarah stared at him. “Tell you about what? The non-existent baby that the tabloids are reporting I’m having? It’s not true, Saafir. If I was pregnant, believe me, you would know it.” She would have called him, pride or not. She would have found a way to let him know.

  “It’s not true?” Saafir asked. Was that disappointment she heard in his voice?

  In that moment, she wished it was true and hearing her heart make the plea deepened her sadness. “I’m not pregnant.”

  “I see.” He sounded somewhat skeptical.

  “What were you planning if I was?” Sarah asked. He couldn’t force her to move to Qamsar. He couldn’t demand custody of the baby.

  “My response is the same whether you are or aren’t pregnant.”

  Her heart beat faster as he closed the distance between them with three long strides. “I want—”

  The door to the kitchen slammed opened and Alec stepped in. He stumbled to the stainless-steel counter and caught himself against it. “Isn’t this pleasant. My wife is knocked up by a king. A day to celebrate, that’s for sure. Come on, Sarah, break out the champagne. Oh, wait, a woman in your condition shouldn’t be drinking.” He made disapproving noises with his tongue.

  Her anger was immediate. “What are you doing here? Owen said you were in a recovery facility.”

  Alec laughed. “Those don’t work. They can’t keep me locked inside. The only person who can save me is you, Sarah. I read that you were coordinating a big event here tonight, and I came to congratulate you on your new baby. I wish it were my baby, but what can I say? You never wanted to get knocked up by me.”

  Before Sarah had known Alec had a substance abuse problem, she had wanted to have a family with him. “Alec, you can’t be here. You need to stay in the rehabilitation center or they won’t let you remain in the program.” Why was she trying to reason with him? When he was under the influence, he was irrational and impossible. She reached for her phone. First call was to the police and the second one was to Owen.

  “Get it through your head, Sarah. I don’t want to be in a program!” Alec screamed.

  His yelling jarred her and she stopped dialing.

  “I want my life back. I want my wife and my job and my friends. I don’t want to sit around in a circle talking about my feelings and why I’ve become an addict.”

  It was the first time he had said those words. Every other time they’d spoken of his addiction, he’d told her he’d wanted to get better. He’d wanted to heal. He’d wanted to do better. “What’s changed?” she asked.

  Alec banged the counter and Saafir drew Sarah closer.

  Alec narrowed his eyes at them. “Nothing has changed. I’ve never liked those places. Too much whining and boredom.”

  Saafir put himself between Alec and Sarah. “Sarah cares for you. I don’t want to see anyone hurt.”

  “Mister Peaceful. That’s not what I hear you really are. Do you read the news, Sarah? You know this guy was Qamsarian Special Forces? How many people has he killed? Thousands?”

  Sarah stepped out from behind Saafir. This wasn’t his fight. “You may never have killed anyone, Alec, but have you thought about how many lives you’ve destroyed by behaving how you are behaving right now?” Sarah asked.

  “Drama, drama. I’m here to make things right,” Alec said. He pulled out a gun and Sarah’s chest tightened.

  He would shoot Saafir.

  “Don’t take a step you can’t undo,” Sarah said. “Tell me what you want.”

  Alec shook his gun at them. “I already told you what I want. I want my life back.”

  “Alec, put the gun down.” Owen stood in the doorway of the kitchen holding a gun of his own and pointing it at Alec. “You can go back to rehab and we can put this behind us. But if you pull that trigger, I can’t help you. I can’t fix a mistake that ends with you hurting or killing someone.”

  Alec pivoted, aiming his gun at Owen. “Look at you, big brother. Acting like you care what happens to me. You don’t want me to tarnish your reputation. You just don’t want anyone to know that you have a brother who’s a mess. You want to keep me locked away in a medical facility so I don’t embarrass you.”

  “That’s not true, Alec. I got the call from the rehab center that you went missing. Your anklet tracked you here. That means the police are on their way. We care about you. We want you to get better. We don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “I can’t get better. I don’t want to get better. I want everyone to leave me alone and let me do what I want to do. Why is that so bad? Why does it matter that I like to have a good time? Why is everyone so uptight?” Alec was screaming again.

  Years of back and forth and Alec still didn’t understand. He was still convinced his family didn’t understand him. It was he who didn’t understand
how devastating his illness had been for everyone.

  “Put your gun on the counter and we can go somewhere and talk,” Owen said.

  Alec banged his gun against the metal counter and the noise echoed around the room. “No! Talking is done. Leave, Owen. You don’t need to be part of this and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Alec,” Owen said, the warning strong in his voice. “Put the gun down.”

  “And let this guy take my wife?” Alec yelled.

  “No one is taking anyone,” Owen said. “You and Sarah are divorced.”

  “She didn’t give me a choice,” Alec said.

  “You didn’t give me a choice,” Sarah said.

  Alec took a step toward her. “I want to talk to Sarah. Give me a few minutes alone with Sarah.”

  Sarah didn’t like the look in his eyes or the way he was handling his gun. He was too angry and too far gone. Police sirens sounded.

  Owen pointed to the back door. “Hear that, Alec? This is over. Put down the gun and don’t make this worse for yourself. If the police come in here and see you waving a gun at the emir, you’ll be in a world of trouble.”

  Saafir’s guards! Were they close by? They wouldn’t fire at Alec, would they? Sarah didn’t want Alec hurt. Not investing more in Alec was a far cry from wanting him wounded or dead. Sarah took a few steps toward him. “Alec, please give me the gun and we’ll talk.”

  The police sirens seemed to be right outside. Alec looked at the door and then at Sarah. He lifted his gun and aimed it at Sarah. “You’ll never give me what I want.”

  “Alec, no!”

  The sound of gunfire exploded in the air. Sarah instinctively whirled away and ducked. Saafir was wrapped around her and it took her a second to register she wasn’t hurt. She opened her eyes. Alec was slumped against the walk-in refrigerator.

  Owen was shouting. “He shot me!”

  “You shot me!” Alec yelled.

  Sarah looked between Owen and Alec. Owen was moving toward Alec and clutching his arm. Sarah grabbed a cotton apron from the counter and pressed it over Owen’s arm to staunch the bleeding. He winced.

  Alec’s eyes were closed, but he was breathing, his chest rising and falling. Saafir left through the back door, returning with his guards and the police.

  His guards stepped in to administer first aid.

  Saafir pulled Sarah against him. “Definitely not pregnant?” he asked.

  Sarah shook her head. “Not pregnant.”

  “Ma’am? Can you answer some questions for us?” one of the paramedics asked. Sarah nodded and followed the medic outside.

  * * *

  Sarah stood over Owen as a paramedic was loading him into the ambulance. “When Alec left the rehab facility, I got the call he was on his way here. He’s been more and more paranoid. He’s making up stories and hallucinating. I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

  “Thank you, Owen,” Sarah said. “You saved my life.”

  Owen blushed. “What about the emir? I told him I pressured you into feeding me information, but that you didn’t share secrets.”

  Sarah glanced over her shoulder at Saafir, who was speaking to police officers on the scene. He must have sensed her looking at him. He turned and one corner of his mouth lifted. She couldn’t read the situation or interpret his feelings for her. Sarah had heard that his fiancée would be in attendance tonight.

  “I think maybe I messed that up good,” Sarah said. “He has his life in Qamsar, and I have my life here.”

  Owen closed his eyes. The paramedic poked and prodded him. “You gave up on Alec long after everyone else did. I know you have staying power.”

  “It’s not staying power I need,” Sarah said. “I’d need to be politically powerful or have a father who was.”

  Owen gave her a sideways look as the paramedic pushed the stretcher into the ambulance. “They called Chelsea. She’s meeting me at the hospital.”

  Sarah was glad to hear some warmth in his voice when referring to his wife. “I’ll call you or Chelsea tomorrow to see how you are,” Sarah said and waved.

  She sensed him behind her before she saw him.

  “Sarah, please let me take you home,” Saafir said, setting his hands on her shoulders.

  Sarah faced him. “You can’t leave. You need to be here for the ball. I’ve asked the staff to move the food and tables to the lobby. If and when the police are finished in the kitchen, we can use the ballroom.”

  “Forget the ball,” Saafir said. “I’m worried about you.”

  “Your family is coming to see you. Everyone wants to congratulate you on your success. It will be a damper on the whole event if you’re not here.”

  “I came here to talk to you, and I want to finish our conversation.”

  “I don’t know that I have more to say.” If he pressed her, she would admit that she would have liked being pregnant with his baby, even if it was a repeat of the situation her mother had been in decades before. If he pressed her even harder, she would admit the idea of being in his life, even in an off-to-the-side way, was tempting. She was trying to be strong and resist telling Saafir the truth.

  Love and family wasn’t in their future, but she wanted it in hers.

  * * *

  Saafir’s guards remained close to him, ignoring his request to give him some space. Every available guard was on hand and his intelligence team had their ears to the wall. If the extremists were planning anything in retaliation for Wasam’s death, Saafir would get in front of it.

  The close call with Sarah’s ex was enough to shake everyone on his security team. He wouldn’t be getting much leeway the rest of the night and he wanted that leeway to talk to Sarah.

  Tomorrow was too long to wait to say what he needed to say.

  Guests had been arriving in a steady flow. Congressmen and congresswomen, the managers and owners of various oil industry companies and interested parties were attending the event to celebrate. Saafir shook hands and made small talk. Aware he was being watched and that rumors were spreading about what had transpired with Owen and his brother that night, Saafir was careful about every move he made. He tried not to look away from conversations too often as he searched the crowd for Sarah. He tried not to stare when she entered the room. He forced himself to remain at the event and not sweep Sarah away to a place where they could speak in private.

  When his mother arrived, Saafir was struck by her grace and beauty. She was escorted by Mikhail. Behind her, Alaina Faris entered on the arm of her father, Mohammad.

  Saafir strode across the room to greet them as decorum demanded. As much as he enjoyed seeing his family, he was not anxious to meet Alaina or deal with her father.

  “You look well, brother,” Mikhail said.

  “As do you,” Saafir said.

  “Have Laila and Harris arrived?” Mikhail asked.

  Saafir’s mother was already looking around the room, no doubt searching for her daughter so they might catch up.

  “I heard from Harris they were on their way from their hotel,” Saafir said.

  Iba excused herself and moved in the direction of some politicians’ wives she was friendly with.

  Mikhail stepped to the side and gestured for Mohammad and his daughter to step forward.

  Saafir extended his hand and Mohammad shook it.

  “Your excellency, it’s a pleasure to see you again. May I present my daughter, Alaina Faris.”

  Alaina stared at Saafir and said nothing. Her eyes were red and she looked exceedingly tired. Compassion strummed through him. Neither of them wanted this marriage. Not a thread of interest or eagerness entered her face.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alaina,” Saafir said.

  No response. Her father nudged her. She lowered her head and said something he didn
’t catch.

  “Pardon?” Saafir asked.

  When she lifted her head, her eyes were filled with tears. “Apologies, your excellency. I have heard you are a good and kind man. I had hoped that once we met, you would see that this is a mistake—”

  “Alaina!” Her father’s voice was quiet, but sharp. “We discussed this.”

  Alaina was still speaking, “—and that I am in love with someone else.”

  Saafir almost laughed. Nothing was funny about Alaina loving another man, but he, too, was in love with someone else. The circumstances were ridiculous. On first meeting, they had no instant attraction, no chemistry and they were both pining for someone else.

  Mikhail took Saafir’s arm. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

  Alaina’s eyes darted from Mikhail to Saafir and back to Mikhail. The beginnings of a smile turned up the corners of her mouth. She lowered her gaze to the floor.

  Saafir excused himself and let Mikhail lead him away.

  “I have something to tell you.”

  “You could have mentioned that she hated the idea of marrying me before letting me find out tonight,” Saafir said.

  Mikhail clasped his hands behind his back. “She doesn’t hate the idea. She is in love with someone else and that makes it hard for her to accept the idea of marrying you.”

  Saafir lifted his brow. “It was never my intention to force anyone to do anything. I made my position clear. I want to marry someone for the benefit of our political position, but I will not force a woman to make a matrimonial commitment to me when she obviously doesn’t want to.”

  Mikhail rocked back on his heels. “I knew you’d feel that way. How did you pick Alaina?”

  “From a list Frederick provided.” Saafir wouldn’t pretend the selection had been romantic or based on his desire to marry Alaina.

  “With Rabah Wasam dead, the Conservatives are in a scramble to pick a new leader. A lot of what he was doing was unknown to the entire party, and factions are breaking away. Alaina’s father will likely be selected as the new leader of the Conservatives.”