Hostage of the Hawk

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Hostage of the Hawk Page 16

by Sandra Marton


  Tears glinted on Joanna’s lashes. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘at least it’s finally out in the open. I’m not, no, and—’ The car jounced to a stop at the kerb. Joanna grabbed her evening bag from the seat. ‘We can discuss this later, Father.’

  ‘Jo. Wait!’

  She snatched her hand from his and reached for the door, too angry and upset to wait for the chauffeur to open it. Sam cared about protocol, but it had never meant a damn to her.

  ‘Joanna,’ Sam said sharply, but she ignored him, swung open the door—and stepped straight into a bewildering sea of cameras and microphones.

  ‘Miss Bennett!’ Someone shoved a mike into her face. ‘Is it true,’ an eager voice asked, ‘that you were abducted and held for ransom by the new ruler of Jandara?’

  Joanna stiffened. ‘Where did you—?’

  ‘Is it true he abducted you because he’d demanded bribe money from your father’s company and your father refused to pay it?’

  She spun towards Sam, who had stepped out of the car after her. ‘Did you do this?’ she said in a low voice.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘We’ll discuss this later, you said. I think we should stay with that idea.’

  ‘Answer me! Did you set this up?’

  ‘Do unto others as they do unto you, Jo,’ Sam said out of the side of his mouth. ‘Khalil’s in New York, his hat in his hand. It’s my turn now.’

  Joanna’s mouth trembled. ‘You would lie about Khalil, let the media swarm over me, all to get even?’

  Sam glared at her. ‘Business is business, Joanna. How come you can’t get that straight?’ He pushed past her, making it look as if he were defending her against the press, and held up his hands. ‘My daughter finds this too emotional a topic to talk about,’ he said. ‘I’ll speak on her behalf.’

  He launched into a tirade against Khalil, about his greed and his barbarism, about how he’d been angered by Bennettco’s refusal to pay enough baksheesh and how he’d stolen Joanna in retaliation, then demanded a king’s ransom for her return—

  ‘No,’ Joanna said.

  The microphones and cameras swung towards her and Sam did too, his eyes stabbing her with a warning look.

  ‘The only reason we’ve decided to come forward now,’ he said, ‘is because my daughter refuses to let Prince Khalil trick our bankers into investing in—’

  ‘No!’ Joanna’s voice rose. ‘It’s not true!’

  ‘Do you see what the bastard did?’ Sam roared. ‘She’s still afraid to talk about how he imprisoned her, starved her, beat her—’

  ‘It’s a lie!’ Joanna stepped past her father. ‘Prince Khalil asked for no ransom, no bribes. He’s a good, decent man, and my father’s trying to blacken his name!’

  There was a moment’s silence, and then a voice rang out.

  ‘Decent men don’t abduct women.’

  There was a titter of laughter. Joanna lifted her chin and stared directly into the glittering eyes of the video cameras.

  ‘He didn’t abduct me,’ she said in a clear voice.

  ‘Your father says he did. What’s the story, Miss Bennett?’

  What had Khalil said, the night he’d taken her? That he could tell the world she’d run off with him and be believed, that no one would doubt such a story. Joanna took a deep breath.

  ‘I was with Khalil because I wanted to be with him,’ she said. She heard her father growl a short, ugly word and her voice gathered strength. ‘The Prince asked me to go away with him—and I did.’

  A dozen questions filled the air, and finally one reporter’s voice cut through the rest.

  ‘So, you don’t hate the Hawk of the North?’

  Joanna’s lips trembled. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I don’t hate him.’

  ‘What, then?’ someone called.

  Joanna hesitated. ‘I—I—’

  ‘Well, Miss Bennett?’ another voice insisted, ‘how do you feel about him?’

  Joanna stared at the assembled cameras. How did she feel about Khalil? What did she feel?

  A woman reporter jostled aggressively past the others and stuck a microphone under her nose.

  ‘Do you love him?’ she said, her crimson lips parting in a smirk.

  Joanna looked at the woman. The time for lies and deceit was past.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘I do.’

  She heard Sam’s groan, heard the babble of voices all trying to question her at once, and then she turned and fled into a taxi that had mercifully just disgorged its passengers.

  * * *

  Joanna stalked the length of the terrace that opened off her living-room. The night had proven even warmer than the afternoon; the long, white silk robe she wore was light against her skin but even so, she felt as if she were smothering.

  But she knew it had little to do with the temperature. She was smothering of humiliation, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  She groaned out loud and sank down on the edge of a chaise longue. How could she have made such an ass of herself?

  I love him, she’d said—but she didn’t. She didn’t love Khalil, she never had.

  So why had she said such a preposterous thing? Anger at Sam, yes, and pain at how he’d been prepared to use her, but still, why would she have made such an announcement?

  She rose and walked slowly into the living-room, just as the clock on the mantel chimed the hour. Four a.m. If only it were dawn, she’d put on her running shoes, a T-shirt and shorts, and go for a long run through Central Park. Maybe that would help. Maybe—

  The phone shrilled, as it had periodically through the night. Would it be the Press, which had found her despite her ex-directory listing, or Sam, who’d called three times to tell her she had ruined him? She snatched it up and barked a hello.

  It was Sam, but the tone of his voice told her that his rage had given way to weariness.

  ‘Will you at least apologise for making fools of me and of Bennettco, Jo?’

  Joanna put a hand to her forehead. ‘Of course. I never intended to embarrass you, Father.’

  ‘How could you do it, then? My reputation and the company’s are in shambles.’

  She smiled. ‘You’ve survived worse.’

  Sam sighed gustily into the phone. ‘I’m not saying you were right,’ he said, ‘but maybe my idea wasn’t so hot.’

  Joanna’s smile broadened. ‘Are you apologising to me, Father?’

  ‘I’ve always walked a thin line between what’s right and what’s wrong and sometimes—sometimes, I lose my way.’

  It was an admission she would never have expected, and it touched her.

  ‘You’re one tough lady, Joanna,’ Sam said quietly.

  ‘I love you, Father,’ Joanna whispered.

  ‘And I love you.’ She heard him take a deep breath. ‘Jo? I really did believe I’d endanger you by negotiating with Khalil. That’s the only reason I didn’t tear up that blasted contract. I want to be sure you know that. You mean the world to me.’

  Tears stung her eyes. ‘I know.’

  ‘Well,’ Sam said brusquely, ‘it’s late. You should get some sleep.’ There was a silence. ‘Goodnight, daughter.’

  Daughter. He had never called her that before. Joanna’s hand tightened on the phone.

  ‘Goodnight, Daddy,’ she said.

  She hung up the phone and smiled. So, she thought, stretching her legs out in front of her, some good had come of this mess after all. She and her father might yet be friends—

  She started as the doorbell rang. Who could it be, at this late hour? Who could the doorman have possibly admitted without calling her on the intercom first?

  Joanna stood and walked slowly to the door. A reporter, she thought grimly, a reporter who’d sneaked in the back way.

  The bell rang again, the sound persistent and jarring in the middle of the night silence.

  ‘Go away,’ she called.

  Someone rapped sharply at the door.

  ‘Do you hear me? If you don’t get away from here this mi
nute, I’ll call the police!’

  ‘You call them,’ a man’s voice growled, ‘or your neighbours will, when I break this door down!’

  Joanna fell back against the wall. ‘Khalil?’ she whispered.

  ‘Do you hear me, Joanna? Open this door at once!’

  ‘No,’ she said, staring at the door as if it might fly off its hinges. ‘Go away!’

  ‘Very well, Joanna. We’ll wait for someone to phone the police. They’ll probably show up with a dozen reporters in tow, but that’s fine with me. Jandara can use all the publicity it can get.’

  She flew at the door, her fingers trembling as they raced across the locks, and then she threw the door open.

  ‘How dare you do this?’

  ‘This is America,’ Khalil said with a cold smile. ‘People can do anything they want in America. Didn’t you tell me that once?’

  ‘No! I certainly did not. I—’

  Joanna fell silent. Khalil was dressed much as he had been the night they’d met, in a dark suit and white shirt, but somewhere along the way, he’d taken off his tie, undone the top buttons of his shirt, and slung his jacket over his shoulder. He looked handsome and wonderful, and the sight of him made her feel giddy.

  She clutched her silk robe to her throat. ‘You can’t come in!’

  He smiled, showing even, white teeth. ‘Can’t I?’

  ‘No. This is my apartment, and—’ The door slammed shut behind him as he pushed past her into the foyer. ‘Damn you,’ Joanna cried. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said? I don’t want you here. Get out!’

  Khalil shook his head. ‘No.’

  No. Just that one word, delivered in that insolent, imperious voice...

  Joanna tossed her head. ‘All right, then, wait here and get thrown out! The doorman’s probably on the phone this very minute, calling the—’

  ‘The doorman,’ he said with a smug little smile, ‘is chatting with my minister.’ He folded his arms over his chest in that impossibly arrogant manner she detested. ‘Did you know the man was born a stone’s throw from Hassan’s birthplace?’

  Joanna’s eyes narrowed. ‘Hassan was born in Brooklyn?’

  Khalil grinned. ‘Well, perhaps he stretched things a bit. But it is true that Hassan has a cousin who was born in Brooklyn.’

  Joanna lifted her chin in defiance. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you and Hassan could have a string of cousins who—’

  ‘We were at a dinner party all this evening, Joanna.’

  ‘Isn’t that wonderful,’ she said sweetly. ‘I’m delighted for you both.’

  ‘I only just got back to my hotel, and I turned on—what do you call it?—the twenty-four-hour-a-day news channel—’

  ‘I am certain there are lots of people who’d be interested in a minute-by-minute accounting of how you spent your evening, Khalil, but personally—’

  ‘I saw your news conference.’

  Joanna felt her face go white. ‘What news conference?’ she said with false bravado. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘That informative little gathering you arranged outside the Palace Hotel.’ A cool smile curved over his lips. ‘That news conference.’

  ‘It wasn’t a news conference, it was a circus. Now, if you’re quite finished—’

  ‘What a clever pair you and your father are, Joanna.’

  She gaped at him. ‘What?’

  ‘Telling two such disparate but fascinating stories to the Press.’ Khalil’s eyes narrowed. ‘What better way for Bennettco to garner publicity, hmm?’

  ‘What better way for...’ Joanna burst out laughing. ‘Is that what you think? That Sam and I set that up?’

  ‘Didn’t you?’

  ‘No, of course not. What would be the point?’

  ‘How do I know? Perhaps the price of Bennettco’s stock has fallen and you two decided front-page headlines would shore it up.’

  Joanna shook her head in disbelief. ‘My father would be proud of you, thinking of something like that.’

  ‘You didn’t arrange it, then?’

  ‘Me? I had nothing to do with it. It was my father who...’ She stopped in mid-sentence and colour spotted her cheeks. ‘Look, if that’s all you came here for—’

  ‘Why?’ He moved forward quickly, before she could back away, and took her by the shoulders. ‘Why did he want you to pretend I had hurt you?’ His eyes darkened. ‘Heaven knows I would never do that.’

  ‘I—I told Sam that. But—but he had some crazy idea that—that he could influence things in Jandara—’

  ‘By destroying my reputation,’ Khalil said, his voice flat.

  ‘He knows it was wrong,’ she said quickly. ‘I swear to you—’

  ‘But you wouldn’t let him lie.’

  Joanna’s throat worked. ‘I—I didn’t think it was right.’

  Khalil’s hands spread across her shoulders. ‘And so you told two hundred million people that you went away with me willingly.’

  She felt the rush of crimson that flooded her cheeks. ‘Please go now, Khalil.’

  ‘Not yet, not until I have the answers I came for.’

  ‘You have them. You wanted to know if my father and I—’

  ‘I wanted to know why you told the entire population of the United States that you love me,’ he said softly.

  ‘It was—I mean, I thought it was—’ She looked up at him helplessly. ‘I couldn’t think of anything else to say.’

  He grinned. ‘Really.’

  ‘Yes. Really.’ Joanna swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t mean it, if that’s what you think.’

  What he thought was that she was still the most beautiful woman in the world, and that he would surely have died if he had never looked at her wonderful face again. He smiled and traced the fullness of her bottom lip with his thumb. The last time he’d gazed into Joanna’s eyes, his heart had been so filled with pain that he had been blind to everything but his own anguish.

  But the passage of time had made him begin to wonder if he’d reacted too quickly that terrible morning three months before. He had dreamed of her for weeks, thought of her endlessly, and now he had come to the States on a mission for his country—but in the back of his mind, he knew he had come to find her, to find the truth...

  ...and there it was, shining along with the tears that had risen in her beautiful green eyes. He was certain of it, certain enough to do something he had never done before, put aside his pride—and offer up his heart.

  ‘Didn’t you?’ he said softly.

  Joanna swallowed again. ‘Didn’t I what?’ she whispered.

  ‘Didn’t you mean it when you said you loved me?’

  She closed her eyes. ‘Khalil—please, don’t do this—’

  ‘I think the only time you lied about how you felt was that morning outside the cave.’

  Her lashes flew up and she looked at him. ‘You’re wrong. I don’t love you. I never—’

  He lowered his head and gently brushed his lips over hers.

  ‘How could I have been such a pig-headed fool? You told Abu you loathed me to save my life—didn’t you, Joanna?’

  Joanna stared into Khalil’s wonderfully blue eyes. She could walk away from this with her pride intact. Well, sure, she could say, smiling, I did—but that doesn’t mean I love you. I just did what I could to save your neck because it was the right thing to do...

  ‘Joanna.’ He cupped her face, tilted it to his, and when she looked into his eyes again, her heart soared. ‘Beloved,’ he whispered, ‘will it be easier to tell me the truth if I tell it to you first?’ Khalil kissed her again, his mouth soft and sweet against hers. ‘I love you, Joanna. I love you with all my heart.’

  Her breath caught. ‘What?’

  ‘Why do you think I kept you captive, even after I knew your father would never negotiate for your release?’

  ‘Well, because—because—’

  He smiled and put his arms around her. ‘It was wrong, I know, but how could I let you go when I’d
fallen in love with you? I kept hoping you would stop hating me, that you’d come to feel for me what I felt for you.’

  Joanna felt as if her heart were going to burst with joy. ‘Oh, my darling,’ she whispered, ‘my love—’

  He drew her close and silenced her with a kiss. Then he sighed and brought her head to his chest.

  ‘That night in the cave, I let myself believe you loved me, but the next morning—’

  Joanna leaned back in his embrace and flung her arms around his neck. ‘I do love you,’ she said, laughing and weeping at the same time, ‘I do!’

  He kissed her again. After a long time, he lifted his head and smiled into her eyes.

  ‘Lilia speaks of you. She is very happy. Her father was found alive, in one of Abu’s dungeons.’

  ‘That’s wonderful!’

  He grinned. ‘Rachelle still speaks of you, too. She says she hopes some day you will see the error of your ways and admit what a wonderful person I really am.’

  Joanna laughed. ‘I’ll do my best.’ Her smile faded, and she touched the tip of her tongue to her lip. ‘Khalil—about Lilia. I felt awful, involving her in my escape, but—’

  ‘Do you still have it in your heart to be a teacher, beloved?’

  She looked at him with a puzzled smile on her lips. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘There is much to do in my country. Lilia, and all the children, are eager to learn.’ Khalil kissed her tenderly. ‘Do you think you could give up your job at Bennettco and come back to Jandara with me to teach them?’

  Joanna’s eyes shone. ‘Is that all you want me to do?’

  ‘What I want,’ he said, holding her close, ‘is for you to be my wife and my love, and to live with me in happiness forever.’

  As the sun rose over the Manhattan rooftops, Joanna gave Khalil her promise in a way she knew he would surely understand.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-8495-1

  Hostage of the Hawk

  Copyright © 1994 by Sandra Myles

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

 

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