When their protests finally die down, I break into the conversation, reiterating, “I’m staying here.”
More unheard conversations, then Joe’s on the line, “We’re coming to you then. Just as soon as we can. And for fuck’s sake, take care, Janna. Stay in the palace and don’t go outside. It’s clearly not safe down there.” I end the call.
I don’t need them to tell me. My friend’s been stolen away, I won’t be putting myself at risk.
A servant enters, and I suspect I’ll have to thank Ryan for remembering to feed me, in his current mood I doubt Jasim would think of it. Not that I’m hungry, but the outward sign someone’s thinking of me makes me feel slightly less abandoned. I toy with some pastries, which taste like dust in my mouth. At least having to tell them Sally’s been kidnapped has taken the heat off of me. For now.
Had I been wrong to give myself to the enigmatic sheikh?
No. Last night is something I will never regret.
Chapter 21
Jasim
When I first read the note, I burned with rage, almost unable to speak, not trusting myself to say anything to Janna. The first thought in my head being Janna’s mine. How dare someone think they had a claim on her? As soon as Ryan had removed her from the room, I rounded on Rais, my fists clenching.
“How did it happen? How did he take Sally without being stopped?”
Rais lets out a loud sigh, “It was partly my fault, I wasn’t watching her carefully enough. Hell, I didn’t even think that I needed to.” He paces away, then turns back, “She had that darn camera with her, wanted to capture some footage of the horses. I’ve questioned those from my tribe, who said Fadi enticed her away.”
“And no one stopped her?”
“No one thought they needed to. We’d gotten back to camp, they were loading the horses. She’d ridden with Fadi, and his tribe were first away. It was only when everyone had left we realised she was missing, and then put together the pieces of how it had happened.”
“Fuck it.” I drag my hand through my hair. How could this day, that had started so well, end up in such a mess like this? Fleetingly, the thought of Janna in my bed last night goes through my mind. What I wouldn’t give to be back there, holding her close, running my hands over her soft skin without a care in the world. The memory of how responsive she’d been to my touch and the demand written on the note causes me to spit out, “He’s not getting anywhere near Janna.”
“I thought you’d say that.” A corner of Rais’s mouth turns up, “I assume last night turned out how you’d planned?”
I give a distracted nod, then drop down into a chair, my elbows on my thighs, my hands clasped between my knees. “He’s given us three days, Rais.” Three days to exchange Janna for her friend. That’s who Fadi was really after.
“It will take time to arrange our response.”
Yes, it will. The castle in the sky is all but impenetrable. Fadi knew what he was doing, taking the woman there. “He holds all the cards. It’s impossible to attack.”
A shrug, “And even to try could mean he ends up harming her.”
“He’s a dead man if he does,” I snarl. “He wouldn’t really do that, would he? Surely it’s just an idle threat.”
Another shrug, “What else has he got to bargain with? He’s got nothing to lose. He must know he’s in serious trouble. How could he think he’d get away with doing what he has?”
“Why Janna?” That’s what I don’t understand.
Rais seats himself opposite me, “He only saw her yesterday evening, but Jasim, she looked stunning. Running across the sand. It’s our heritage, in our blood. To see what we want and take it.”
“Centuries ago, perhaps, but not now.”
“Fadi’s roots are as those of a primitive man of the desert, it’s not such a distant past for him.”
Rais could be right. “I’ll speak to Kadar, he needs to know.”
“Of course, my friend. While you do so, I’ll check and see if we’ve discovered anything else. I’ll speak to the other sheikhs, they might know him better than I and have views on how he’ll play this.”
I thank him, and he pats my shoulder on his way out. Fuck, what a mess. Could it have been prevented? Who would have guessed Fadi would go to such extremes, kidnapping one woman to trade for another? But whatever he’s planned, he’s not taking my Janna. Not until I’ve had the time I want with her. And no, not even then. How dare Fadi even dream of touching a hair on her head?
I pick up the phone and place my call, needing to hold it away from my ear at the predictable colourful and loud exclamations from my older brother. He contacts Nijad, and soon we’re having a three-way call.
“We could let Fadi have this Janna for now.” Kadar hears my growl but continues, “He gives up the other woman, and we wait for him to get careless. When he thinks he’s won and goes back to his tribe, we swoop in and retrieve Janna.”
I’m not having my woman in his hands for a moment. “No.”
“It’s the old ways of the desert, brother.”
And one of the reasons I no longer live in my home country. “I can’t agree to that. He could…” My voice breaks off as I try hard not to envision exactly what he could do to her.
Nijad barks a laugh, “She’s got to you, hasn’t she, brother? You don’t want another man’s hands on her. I take it my gift came in useful?”
For a response I’m silent, loathe to give myself away. And there’s no way I’m going to admit I’d used his handcuffs and spreader bar last night.
But I don’t need to say anything. Nijad thinks the same way as I, and he cottons on fast, “You did fuck her, didn’t you?”
“Is this right, Jasim? Nijad suggested you were taken with her, but I wasn’t sure whether to believe him. You’re always so careful to avoid complications.” Even though I’m hundreds of miles away, I can imagine Kadar’s eyebrows rising. “Well, whether or not you’ve dipped your wick, I don’t like this at all. We’re trying to promote Amahad as the place foreign tourists will want to come to. Not a place where women are at risk of being abducted. Fuck Fadi, he should know better than this.”
“What’s Rais’s take on how we should play this?” For a second it irks me that Nijad would be asking for the desert sheikh’s view rather than my opinion. Another sign I’ve been away from the country too long.
I swallow down my pride. My two obligatory years doing military service protecting our borders is a long way in my past. “His view is that alqaleat fi alssama' is a defensible position, not open to attack.”
“We could bomb it from the air…”
“Kind of defeats the point of a rescue,” Kadar’s dry tones berate my brother.
I ignore the asinine comment from Nijad. “If we try to attack, we put the woman in danger and risk losing the lives of many of our men.”
“Has Ryan had anything to say?” Like many of the Grade A team, Ryan’s ex-SAS, that elite arm of the British Military service. And his bosses, Ben Carter and Jon Tharpe, are well versed in hostage extraction.
“He’s talking with Jon and Ben now. But it’s an unusual situation.”
“What have we got to bargain with?” Kadar’s thinking like the emir, a contrast to Nijad whose first impulse is to suggest using force. “Apart from giving him what he’s asked for.”
He’s not getting his hands on Janna. “His life?” I counter.
“Unless he harms her, kidnapping a foreign national is not a crime punishable by death. Not anymore. Incarceration, yes.” One of Kadar’s first actions when he came to the throne was to revise the crimes for which death was the penalty. And at this precise moment, I rather think he’s gone too far.
“He’s committed treason,” I growl.
“Kidnapping a foreign national, yes. Treason, no. Not unless he’s taken a woman belonging to a member of the royal family.”
In my view, he wants to. “He’s taken a hostage but he wants a woman who’s under my protection.”
; “You might have fucked her, Jasim, but that doesn’t make her yours.” I disagree, I took her virginity, her body, her soul belongs to me. For now, anyway.
“There’s one option, Jasim. If you married her, she’d become one of us. A royal. No one, not the least Fadi, could argue with that.”
Nijad laughs loudly as I gasp. Kadar’s suggestion has stunned me into silence. My mouth works but no words come out.
“That’s a serious proposition, Kadar. But one which may sway Fadi, if Jas can demonstrate a prior claim to this woman.”
“Maybe I spoke hastily. Jasim doesn’t want a wife, or any kind of relationship, and there has never been a divorce in the royal family.”
I can’t believe it when I find myself saying, “Nijad’s original marriage contract limited the marriage to five years. There’s nothing to say I couldn’t have a limited one too.” What the hell am I suggesting? Considering tying myself to a woman I hardly know? Even temporarily? I must be going out of my mind.
“Those were exceptional circumstances. And we invoked the old laws.” Nevertheless, Kadar’s sounding thoughtful, his tone belying his words.
“Those ancient laws still hold sway among the desert tribes,” I point out.
Nijad barks a laugh, “You could divorce her by saying ‘I divorce you’ three times if you’re following the primitive ways. And I thought those practices were the very ones you’ve been running away from.” I glare at the phone, unable to deny what he’s said is the truth. But as I do, I’m mulling the idea over in my mind. As strange as it may seem, the idea of being wed to Janna isn’t immediately distasteful. She’d belong to me.
“The marriage would have to be real enough to convince Fadi to give up his demands. And what exactly is it about this woman that Fadi wants her so much, and you’re prepared to give up your freedom for her?”
“Not permanently.” Hastily, I seek to reassure him. I don’t see this as a long-term arrangement. But spending more time with her would not be a hardship. That was my plan anyway. It would just be slightly longer and more a more formal arrangement than I had intended.
“Jasim, you know my views. I want to see you married and settled, but not in this way. We know nothing about her.” My older brother would be interested in her pedigree, her suitability to join the family.
“Both you and Nijad married Englishwomen with no breeding,” I snap. From first thinking the idea is a joke, now I’m seeking to overcome their objections. Have I lost my mind?
After a brief moment of silence, Kadar sounds resigned. “I spoke in haste, brother. This is a step too far. You, as Ni put it so eloquently, have fucked her. You have already got a claim. Just explain that to Fadi.”
“And if it isn’t sufficient? If he carries out his threats?” Shaking my head, I continue, “With a marriage contract to cement it, there’s no argument he could use.”
“I’m not convinced that the idea carries merit. There must be something else.”
Anything else carries a risk. And this way, I get Janna. “No, Kadar. I don’t want to push Fadi into doing something we might all regret. Marrying Janna brings her under the protection of the royal family, as you’ve just said. It’s the simplest way. I’ll do it.”
“Your determined?”
And suddenly, I know I am. “Yes.”
Kadar sighs, “You’ll have to persuade her.”
Nijad chuckles, “Seems none of us give our women much choice in the matter.”
His reference to Cara, who was kidnapped to marry him, and Zoe, who’d ended up as the desert sheikhs’ choice of bride for their emir, gives me an idea. “I’ll tell her it’s the only option and give her no way out. I can marry her by contract. Rais will be one of the witnesses, and his word will stand.”
“And the mahr?” Kadar asks about the bride price, the money in our culture traditionally put aside for the bride should the husband desert her. I hadn’t thought of that.
But it wouldn’t be a problem. “I can sort that out. I’m not exactly penniless.”
“Ten million pounds sterling.”
“What?” Both Nijad and I exclaim together.
Kadar remains silent for a few seconds, letting the incredibly large amount sink in, before explaining, “It was the amount that the crown put forward for Nijad’s marriage. To offer anything less would make her appear less valued.”
“And the time period?”
“No time limit,” Kadar answers Nijad, and I suspect they’re exchanging grins. They’re tying me to a woman, something they’ve long wanted to see.
They’re taking advantage. “That’s not fair to me, or her.”
“Marriage is not to be taken lightly,” my older brother’s voice booms.
“But surely, in the circumstances… Even our father gave a limit when Nijad was forced to marry.”
“At the time, we thought Cara was a thief,” Kadar gives the explanation we all know, “He didn’t want a criminal tied to the Kassis name for life. Her sole purpose was to provide Nijad with a child.” After he’s reminded us of the original terms of our younger brother’s marriage, he pauses, then, “No, Jasim. The contract will not be for a specific time. As a member of the royal family, you need my permission to take this step. The eyes of the world will be on you once they learn you’ve taken a wife.”
“And if I don’t, Sally might die. A woman who came here to work. How would that be viewed internationally?”
“An unfortunate accident, the desert is a wild place.”
“That won’t work, Janna will have already told her friends that Sally’s gone missing.”
“But not the rest of the details?”
“No, she hasn’t been told.” Yet.
“So, we keep that titbit quiet. As you’ve repeatedly said, Jasim, marriage is not for you. I don’t want to force you into it. We’ll come up with some story to explain her disappearance, or convince Fadi to give her up, as his plan’s not going to work. And you keep your freedom.”
And Fadi might follow through with his threat. I can’t risk that. “My freedom, as you put it, is not worth a woman’s life.”
“If you ask her to marry you, do you think she’ll agree? I don’t like the notion of forcing her hand. That wouldn’t look good for us either.” Kadar’s clearly worried about his country’s reputation.
I have no fucking idea. What do I know of her? She plays in a band, she was a virgin. And I’m insanely attracted to her. For now. How long that will last, I don’t know. What else do I know of her? Would she agree to a sham of a marriage to protect her friend? Whatever Kadar says, I’m not in the market for a wife, and we will divorce further down what is probably a very short line. But I also understand that my position as a prince of the land means I’d have to make it appear genuine, at least for a while. Any such union would be picked up by the international press. Which means considering living together. Having her in my bed.
“Nijad’s already brought disrepute on Amahad,” Kadar’s reading my mind.
“I was cleared.” My younger brother sounds angry.
“You were, but people have long memories. And unfortunately, mud sticks. Amahad’s good standing is at stake. The people you negotiate with, Jasim, the oil talks. You can’t do anything to make them think you’re flighty, liable to act on a whim. This marriage must be watertight, no one must suspect we’re hiding a reason for why it was so rushed.”
“It must appear romantic.”
I don’t do romance. If Ni was in front of me he’d be able to see my scowl. It’s clear the bugger’s enjoying this. But I have to concede his point. I’m known as one of the world’s richest and most eligible bachelors, it won’t be long before any marriage would be picked up by the press. It has to look right. Seem to be authentic, even if it’s not.
“If she agrees, I’ll make it look real.” And until I’ve had my fill of her, that won’t be too difficult.
“She’ll have to play her part.”
“I’ll make sure she understands.”
But what would that look like? As a sheikh’s wife, could she still play in the band? There will be a role expected of her. Could she settle into it? Stand by my side as society would expect?
“Ask her, Jasim,” Kadar sounds resigned as he sighs. “Nijad and I will arrange to come down to Z̧almā. To witness your wedding, or to make other plans.”
“And speak to Rais before you do, and see if he’s come up with any alternative.” Again, a reference to my lack of knowledge about the desert and the leaders of the primitive tribes. What other option could there be?
Any alternative could get a lot of our men, and the missing Sally, killed. Ending the phone call, I drop my head into my hands. How can I ask Janna? And will she agree?
Chapter 22
Janna
It must be more than an hour later, by which time I’ve bitten my nails down to the quick, when I hear someone at the door. When it opens, the last person I’d expected, but the first that I’d hoped, appears. Jasim. Following at his heels is Rais, who clearly has difficulty hiding a smirk when Jasim strides across the room, places his hands either side of my face and insistently presses his lips to mine. Automatically I open for him, his tongue drives inside, and I taste a mix of sweet and bitter, the flavour of Arab coffee. The way he moulds to me makes me feel like I’m coming home, and with that one action he wipes all my resentment away.
When he pulls back, his hands still hold me, fingertips gently caressing my skin, “Janna, oh, my Janna. I’m so sorry, can you forgive me?”
My mind blown away by that devastating kiss, for a moment I’ve forgotten what he’s done wrong.
“I couldn’t speak to you until I’d calmed down. Oh, Janna. Habiti, forgive me, please?”
Rais standing off to one side, shakes as though he’s laughing inwardly. “Forgive him, Janna, please.” Then, his mirth disappears. “We need to move this on.”
Dark Horses: (Blood Brothers #5) Page 21
