“I did notice. It is too bad the students at your school could not witness your prowess.”
“There’s no need for sarcasm.”
“I was not joking.”
“Then you’re forgiven.”
She grew quiet again. Morning light danced through her golden hair.
In a few minutes, they would reach the airport and say goodbye. The bond between them, however, would not break. It seemed so strong to Zahad that he imagined it tethering the airplane and bringing it crashing down on takeoff.
Of course that would not really happen. He must take matters into his own hands.
“Come with me,” he said.
Jenny blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“I do not mean this instant,” he clarified. “I know you have obligations and you must make arrangements to bring your daughter. I am asking that you come to Alqedar and be my wife.”
In the pause that followed, he recalled that a man was supposed to stage a production of asking a woman to marry him. He supposed he should have provided gifts and flowery promises, perhaps to the accompaniment of music.
Such affectations lay beyond Zahad’s grasp. Simplicity and directness were all he knew.
“I can’t,” Jenny said with a sigh. “Zahad, I’m sorry. You mean more to me than any man I’ve ever known. But I have my own dreams and plans. I can’t give them up for anyone, not even you.”
“I understand,” he replied.
There, it was done. He had taken the risk he must take, and she had given the answer she must give.
Was this truly the end? The end for now, in any case.
They drove for a while longer without speaking. Jenny pulled to the curb in front of the small terminal. When their eyes met, he saw sadness but no uncertainty.
“I will keep you informed of what happens in my country,” he said.
“I’ll let you know what the police turn up.” She swallowed. “Zahad, thank you for everything.”
How should he respond? Pat answers evaded him even under the best of circumstances.
What he wanted to say was that someday he would return, that he would find a way to change her mind and that he would shower her with treasure if that was what it took. But to say such things would be an insult. He respected her decision.
“No thanks are due,” the sheikh replied. “We have both accomplished our aims. It has been a successful alliance.”
Jenny smiled tremulously. “Only you would say something like that at a time like this.”
“There is one thing I can promise you if we meet again,” he said.
“Yes?”
“I will have an interesting new scar to show you.” Zahad nodded toward his shoulder and winced as it throbbed. He made no objection when Jenny came around to open his door. He might be proud but he was no fool.
Outside, they stood awkwardly facing each other. Jenny seemed too beautiful and too delicate to belong to a ruffian like him, but even so, he luxuriated in the sight of her.
“I don’t want to hurt your arm, so I guess I can’t hug you.” Jenny reached to ruffle the ragged edges of his hair. “You might want to get that cut. After all, you’re a very important person.”
“I will attend to it,” Zahad said, and promptly put it out of his mind.
After a last regretful look, Jenny turned away. He started to reach for her and nearly cried out with pain. Perhaps he should have accepted the doctor’s medication after all, he reflected.
In any case, he had lost the chance to touch her.
However, it wasn’t his arm that hurt most as Zahad approached the security checkpoint a few minutes later. An ache formed deep in his chest, or perhaps his stomach. It grew more agonizing with every step he took away from Jenny.
By the time he reached the aircraft, it had grown into a fiery corona around a hard black lump. As he thought of what he was leaving behind, Zahad realized this must be what people meant when they spoke of a broken heart. Already, it began to seem familiar, like something he would have to live with for a very long time.
Chapter Eighteen
On a Friday in mid-January, Jenny gave a farewell party for Lew Blackwell during lunchtime. It was just cake and punch in the teachers’ lounge, but she knew he treasured the heartfelt good wishes of his co-workers.
“I’m a little envious,” Jenny admitted when the other teachers had returned to their classrooms.
“You’re ambitious,” Lew noted. “There are people who’ll hold that against you, but you’ll leave them in the dust.”
“I guess so.” She began cleaning up the paper plates. “We’ll miss you around here.”
“Don’t stay in Mountain Lake too long. You might lose your fire, and that would be a shame.”
His words rang in her mind for the rest of the afternoon. What she felt wasn’t so much a longing for more money or prestige as a desire to help a large number of students who really needed assistance. Perhaps she could find a way to combine this with raising her daughter, but Jenny had been too busy during the past month even to think about her career path.
Since Zahad left, the days had sped by, although the nights seemed almost unbearably long. Even though they’d known each other for only a short time, she found it hard to believe he was gone. She kept imagining she heard his voice in the other room, or that at any moment she would roll over and see a smile light his scarred face.
Life went on, however. After Jenny spoke on Ellen’s behalf at a hearing, she’d been granted probation. Dolly had put her property up for sale so the two of them and Cindy could move to a new community away from bitter memories.
At least they would never want for money. A paper trail had turned up a little more than two million dollars that belonged to Dolly.
The police had definitively linked Bill to both murders. They’d also learned that his description fit that of a man who, years earlier, had romanced then fleeced single women in towns that Bill had once passed through as a truck driver.
Pieces of the puzzle kept falling into place. Jenny remembered the time when Bill got on the wrong bus and landed in Crystal Point. In retrospect, she realized he’d gone there to conduct his banking and pretended to be lost when Ray spotted him.
Bill had been an instinctive liar and a devious plotter. Not all of his schemes worked, but he’d nearly gotten away with them.
As for Al Garroway and the carjackers, all faced trials and potential long sentences. Tish had filed for divorce.
That Friday afternoon, the teachers cleared out quickly at day’s end. The following week was midwinter break and many of them planned trips.
Jenny left a little after five to collect Beth. They stopped for pizza at an Italian diner.
“Are you sure you don’t want a party?” she asked her daughter while they ate. Today was the little girl’s sixth birthday. They could still schedule a get-together for Saturday or Sunday.
Beth shook her head. “It won’t be any fun without Cindy.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Ellen had already moved away with her mother and daughter. Although Beth had other friends at school, they weren’t the same.
Grant couldn’t be here, either. He’d even declined Jenny’s offer to visit him at Christmas, saying he didn’t want his daughter to see him in jail. The two of them had flown to Connecticut instead to celebrate with Jenny’s mother.
“Can Zod come?” Beth asked over a slice of pizza. “I want him to have some of my cake.”
Beth was always delighted when the sheikh asked about her in his e-mails. She’d also received one directly from Amy’s seven-year-old daughter, Farhanna, and had gleefully dictated a response to Jenny.
“He’s very far away,” Jenny explained. “But I’m sure he’s thinking about you.”
“Maybe he can come next week. For school break.” It wasn’t a question, so Jenny didn’t answer.
After dinner and an animated movie, it was nearly eight o’clock when they arrived home. Jenny felt the usual quiver of appreh
ension as she turned into the driveway. She wondered if her dark memories would ever fade.
“We can have some cake now and open presents,” she said as they entered through the back.
“Okay.” Beth didn’t sound enthusiastic. Most likely she was just tired.
Jenny disarmed the security device and, for an instant, indulged in a fantasy that Zahad was waiting in the other room. He still knew the code, after all. Maybe she and Beth wouldn’t have to celebrate alone, ever again.
Of course she found no sign of him when they went in. She’d been as blindly optimistic as her daughter.
The sheikh had asked her to marry him and she’d turned him down. She felt certain she had made the best decision, but sometimes it didn’t feel right.
The phone rang. Beth flew by. “I’ll get it!”
Who was the child expecting? “Honey, maybe I should—”
“Sanger residence,” Beth said into the mouthpiece. “Hi, Zod! I knew you’d call!” The little girl beamed.
Zahad had phoned once before, several weeks earlier, to say that he’d been formally appointed governor of the province. Hashim, humiliated by the people’s rejection, had left the country. After learning from news accounts how diligently her stepson had worked to solve her son’s murder, Numa had apologized for her accusations. She’d accepted his offer of a pension and gone to live with her sister’s family.
“Mommy!” Beth called. “Zod’s sending me a doll! Farhanna picked it.”
“That’s sweet.” Jenny was amazed that the sheikh had thought of sending a gift or even remembered her daughter’s birthday.
“He wants to talk to you.” Beth held out the receiver.
Jenny’s hand tingled as she took it. He was right there, on the other end of the line, waiting to talk to her. “Beth’s thrilled,” she said. “It was kind of you to call.”
Grinning, her daughter trotted out of the room. A moment later, Jenny heard her announcing to her doll, “You’re going to have a sister!”
“I have often wanted to phone.” Zahad’s voice vibrated through her deliciously. “However, I know you are busy with your many plans.”
Not so busy that she hadn’t missed him every waking minute, she thought. “How are you? How are things going?”
“Matters are progressing. A Belgian company intends to build a carpet factory here. Also, a large charitable group will finance a new school, which we need.”
“It sounds exciting.” Jenny reminded herself to check Yazir’s Web site to learn more about those developments.
“What about Mountain Lake?” he asked. “Are you still happy there?”
She didn’t know how to answer. “There’ve been…many adjustments,” she said at last.
“My offer has not changed.”
Her eyelids stung. In a way, Jenny had wanted to hear that, but she still couldn’t accept. As she’d said, she had to plan her own future. “Zahad…”
He must have heard the regret in her tone. “I apologize. I should not have mentioned it.”
“It’s all right. I’m really glad you called. Beth’s been asking about you.”
“Farhanna wishes to meet her,” he replied. “Perhaps someday Beth can visit here. It would be educational.”
What was it like, this palace of Zahad’s? Jenny tried to picture the scenes and the people he’d spoken of, Amy and Sharif and their families, and realized she would love to see them, too. “Maybe when she’s older.”
“Of course.”
Their goodbyes were muted. She hung up feeling as if the conversation was unfinished.
At the entrance to her daughter’s room, Jenny saw that Beth had arrayed her stuffed animals and Minnie on the floor and was serving them with her miniature tea set. The little girl was holding her own birthday party.
The tears Jenny had held back earlier slid down her cheeks. She wanted more than this for Beth and for herself, as well. But she didn’t know where to find it.
She retreated to her office and switched on the computer. In seconds, she made her way to Yazir’s site.
She found the news about the carpet factory at the top of the page. Jenny skipped it to read about the new school. It was part of a major overhaul of the educational system, the article stated and provided a link to a job notice for minister of education.
She clicked on the link.
The ad referred to “long hours, tremendous challenges and a modest salary. Knowledge of Arabic not required.” Qualifications included a master’s degree and experience as an education administrator.
Jenny stared at the screen for a long time.
ON MONDAY, a delegation of German businessmen pelted Zahad with questions during a luncheon at the city’s newest restaurant, which was, ironically, French. They seemed impressed both by his blunt answers and by the full sheikh regalia that he had donned for the occasion. This included a long white robe and a red-and-white checked headdress, held in place with a black band.
Zahad hoped no one noticed that he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt underneath. Preoccupied with going over the plans for a new sewer system, he’d hurriedly thrown on his formal wear right before the meeting.
Back at his office, Zahad drummed his fingers on his broad desk. Where was Amy? He’d expected her to hasten into his office to discuss the results of the luncheon, which she had also attended, but she’d disappeared immediately afterward.
Swiveling, he surveyed the busy market scene beyond the palace wall. Even through the glass, he imagined he could smell the spices, perfumes and coffee. Jewelry glimmered in the sunlight and brightly colored clothing hung from kiosks.
A dusty four-wheel-drive vehicle wended its way between two camels burdened with market goods. While two ladies in European dress examined tooled-leather purses, a woman in a long cloak and black head scarf strolled past, talking intently on her cell phone. His land combined the old and the new, the high-tech and the traditional, and Zahad loved it.
After a tap at the door, his secretary entered. The young man had come to him the previous year at Sharif’s recommendation. “There is a candidate here for the post of education minister.”
“I was not aware I had an appointment,” he replied.
“Mrs. Haroun set it up.” His secretary knew better than to interfere in the sometimes tempestuous but mutually respectful relationship between the sheikh and his director of economic development.
“Very well. Show him in,” Zahad said.
“It is a female.”
A woman wished to move to this remote province and assume the job of education minister? He hadn’t anticipated this. Indeed, the recruiters he’d contacted before posting the job had informed him it was unlikely he would find any qualified candidate willing to relocate to such a backward community.
“Show her in.”
“Yes, sir.”
On his computer, Zahad reviewed the job notice. When the door opened, he spoke without looking up. “Please sit down.”
“That robe is fantastic,” said the dearest voice in all the world. “Is that how you usually dress around here?”
He jumped to his feet so fast he banged his thigh on the desk’s kneehole. “Jenny!”
Her green eyes looked luminous, as if lit from within. Distractedly, Zahad noticed that she’d tucked her blond hair into a businesslike twist and wore a powder-blue suit.
“I’m here about the job.”
“Excuse me?” He stopped in midstride.
“I understand you need a minister of education.” Jenny stated the fact calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to appear in his palace. “I happened to have a week off so I decided to bring Beth on a little trip.”
A little trip halfway around the world? “Where is she now?”
“Playing with Farhanna.”
Although he wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless, he stayed where he was. “You talked to Amy about the job?”
“I got her number from the Web site and c
alled her Friday night. She thought you might be willing to interview me.” Jenny gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “The job sounds like what I’m looking for and I’m sure we could get along, although I have to say, if you’re going to dress like that, I might get sidetracked.”
He glanced down at his white robe. “Ah, this was to impress the Germans.” Feeling a bit overdressed, he removed the headdress and set it aside.
“I’m sure they were very impressed,” she said.
“Did you really come about the job?” He finger-combed his shaggy hair, no doubt the worse for wear. “Because if you did, you are hired.”
“Just like that?”
“I have observed your empathy for children and I know of your experience in the field,” Zahad replied. “When can you start?”
“I…soon. How’s your shoulder?”
He flexed it. “Almost well.”
“You promised me an interesting scar.”
The air between them vibrated with unspoken longings. Jenny hadn’t come simply to apply for a job or she would not make a personal reference to his body, the sheikh reflected.
This must be one of those occasions when a man was supposed to read between the lines. He felt grateful that this insight had occurred to him. Before he met Jenny, it would not have.
“I cannot show you my scar just now. However, I have something else for you.”
From the desk drawer, he removed a carved wooden box and handed it over. Her face alive with curiosity, Jenny opened it.
He heard a sharp intake of breath as she stared down at the filigree-gold necklace and earrings. “I saw those in the marketplace,” Zahad continued. “I meant to bring them to you one day soon.”
When she raised her eyes, he saw love shining there. At least, he hoped it was, because he knew love was radiating from his own face and he didn’t want to look foolish.
“They’re exquisite. Zahad…”
His heart nearly stopped beating. He prayed she would not refuse him again. “Yes?”
Sheikh Surrender Page 23
