Dark Horses: (Blood Brothers #5)

by Manda Mellett

“Maybe I can convince him?” Tentatively, I offer my suggestion.

  “I don’t like putting you in danger, habiti, but I don’t see any alternative but presenting our relationship to him together.”

  Yes, our fake marriage. Which must appear anything but false.

  Rais calls something out to his men, who start to dismount. He has a quick discussion with a man who seems to be his second-in-command, and they both take out their phones as if checking the batteries or signal.

  At my look of confusion, Jasim explains, “The satellite phones should work in the desert.”

  “Should?”

  He waves at the rocky walls which seem to close in over the track. “Unless the signal is blocked.”

  When Rais finishes his discussion, he’s back with us again. “Now, we proceed. Carefully, Sheikhs.” His glare suggests while Jasim and Nijad outrank him, here his knowledge of the desert means he rules.

  It’s a single-track path. Rais takes the lead, Jasim and I behind him, and Nijad brings up the rear. The path is rocky and uneven, and I’m grateful for Jasim holding me tight. The horse stumbles and momentarily loses his footing, then regains it again. My heart’s in my mouth as we start up the steep incline.

  “Move your weight forward, so we don’t overbalance him.” As well as I can, I lean down to the horse’s neck.

  “Are we too heavy for him?”

  “Don’t worry about that. He can carry both of us, no problem.”

  But I start having doubts as the track steepens, and hold my breath for what seems like hours until it starts to level out. Up above us the fortress comes nearer, and at last we’re entering a plateau. And we’re no longer alone. Emerging from what looks like a solid stone rock face is a man dressed in black robes and headdress, with a dozen warriors behind him. Like their leader, they’re all on horseback, and heavily armed. We’re outnumbered.

  Jasim doesn’t falter, he comes up next to Rais, with Nijad on his right. Our horses keep moving, only coming to a halt when we’re face to face with the leader.

  The man, who I assume is Fadi, moves his horse forward and I notice he is nothing like my imagination had conjured up. He’s younger to start with, his features defined making him fairly handsome, intelligent eyes staring out from olive skin much darker than Jasim’s. His mouth is full, his chin sharp and clean-shaven. He holds himself regally, and although his robes hide his form, he looks fit like a fighter.

  He inclines his head in a polite bow, “Sheikhs. And Miss Stevens. Welcome. You’ll come take refreshment before you journey back?” Well, his perfectly spoken English shows he’s bilingual, at least.

  “Cut the crap, Fadi,” Jasim snarls, “We’re not here as your guests. We’re here to take the Englishwoman home.”

  “Ah, the lovely Miss Cartwell. I’ve been enjoying her company.” His face twists for a second. “If you come with me, we can make the exchange.”

  “You do know you’re a dead man, don’t you?” Nijad’s leaning forward, his hands lazily holding loose reins, his stance belying the seriousness of his words.

  Fadi laughs, “I’ve done nothing you haven’t done. Both of you,” he waves his hand at Jasim, and then toward Nijad, “were involved in a kidnapping. An Englishwoman who you, Nijad, forced to become your bride.”

  “The circumstances were very different. And it was on the order of the emir. As well you know, Fadi. All the tribal leaders agreed with our actions.”

  I throw a look toward Nijad, and then remember he’d said Jasim was involved too. But as Jasim’s arm tightens around me, I understand it’s not the time to ask questions. Feeling eyes burning into me, I stupidly look around and meet the stare of the errant sheikh. He’s watching me intently, believing he’s so close to his prize. I sink back into my lover’s arms.

  Jasim must have noticed the direction of his eyes. Possessive arms hold me tight as he turns my head in toward his body, “I’ll thank you not to stare at my wife.”

  Now I can’t see him, but I hear the growled exclamation. “What trick are you trying to pull?”

  “No trick. We were married yesterday. You have no claim.”

  There’s silence for a moment. Then a rattle of bridles, as summoned horses move closer. “A dead man can’t have a wife.”

  “True words, Fadi,” Jasim answers his threat without missing a beat, “If you kill me…”

  I gasp, interrupting him, realising what Fadi was suggesting.

  “If you kill me,” Jasim continues, “You’ll be taking the life of a prince of Amahad. Emir Kadar is already insulted by what you’ve done. There will be no place you can hide if you take up arms against the throne. And your tribe will forfeit their lands.”

  “Don’t be so stupid, man.” Rais snarls.

  Wriggling in Jasim’s arms, I turn around so I can watch the man apparently deliberating on my new husband’s fate. I can stay silent no longer, “If you harm Jasim and think you can take me, be warned, I will kill you myself the first chance I get.”

  Jasim hugs me to him, “I think you can believe my wife on that.”

  Fadi taps his hand against his chin, after a moment he narrows his eyes, “Have you proof you are married?”

  “You don’t take the word of your sheikh?” Nijad sounds outraged.

  Rais reaches into his robes.

  “Be very careful,” Fadi snarls. “If you kill me, my men’s instructions are clear. The woman you’ve come for will die.”

  “You asked for proof. I’ve brought it with us.” Rais pulls out some papers, and lets them flutter to the ground.

  Jerking his head and spitting out fast words in Arabic, Fadi then waits, as the man he’d addressed slides off his horse and fumbles for the documents lying on the ground. Once he’s bundled them up, he passes them into his leader’s hands. We all wait in silence as he reads the copies of the contracts, and then looks through the photos.

  Finally, he nods, and looks at me. “You make a beautiful bride, but then I knew you would.”

  “Only for my true husband,” I retort.

  His head tilts to the side, “This is real? Not an elaborate story you’ve concocted?”

  Jasim snorts, “You can see my signature. Would I have committed on paper had I not given my pledge to this woman?” As he speaks, his hand reaches up, and turns my head toward him. Before I realise what he’s doing, his mouth lowers on mine, and he ravishes my lips with a devastating kiss. Knowing we’re giving a demonstration, I show I’m a more than willing partner, and if the moan that escapes helps prove my infatuation, it’s not intentional.

  When Jasim pulls away, my fingers trace the lingering essence of him he left on my lips. Almost forgetting where we are, I gaze into his eyes.

  It’s only when Fadi speaks again that I return to my senses. “I don’t blame you, Sheikh Jasim. I only regret you got there first.”

  Jasim sighs, “In that case, Sheikh Fadi, let us put an end to this farce. Bring out the woman and we’ll take her back. We’ll leave it to Emir Kadar to determine your fate.”

  As a response, Fadi opens his hands and holds them palms up, then raises his chin, “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that.”

  “What the fuck do you mean?” Rais growls, kicking his horse forward until it’s right in the face of Fadi’s mount. “Get the woman and bring her here. And you’d better hope she’s unharmed.”

  Now it’s Fadi’s turn to heave a deep breath, he shrugs, “She’s unharmed, I assure you. And I am more than willing to let her go. But she refuses to leave.”

  What?

  Chapter 27

  Jasim

  Taking care to hold Janna steady, I swing my legs off the horse I’ve been riding then, realising she probably doesn’t want to be left in charge of the beast, lift her off and setting her down behind me as I take a step toward Fadi.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He shakes his head, but one corner of his mouth turns up, “She’s stubborn. Look, come and see for yourself.” He l
ooks and sounds as though he’s unwillingly impressed.

  Suspecting a trick, I’m reluctant to follow him into the rudimentary castle. And I’m still not going to risk Janna anywhere near him. Not when his plan had been to take her for himself.

  “I’ll go and check it out.” Rais puts himself between us.

  “You’ve no reason to trust me, but I need the girl,” he points behind me and then corrects himself, “The Sheikha, to come with us.”

  Now I’m extremely suspicious. “Why?”

  His eyes roll up as though in frustration. “Your wife might be able to talk some sense into Miss Cartwell.”

  “What’s going on?” I glance down at Janna, and pull her so she’s beside me, “What have you done to her?”

  “I’ve done nothing to her.” Fadi says, his phrasing strange. Then he looks down at his feet, and scuffs them on the ground like a little boy. “Look, please, come and talk to her. What would I know about the innermost workings of the female mind?”

  I look at Janna, and then at my brother and Rais. To me, Fadi sounds all at once both strange and sincere, but then I don’t know him in the same way they do. I’ve been gone from the country too long. And he’d wanted to steal my woman away, the woman who is, for all current intents and purposes, my wife.

  I’m still expecting a trick, but Rais is nodding. “Fadi, I know you well. That you wanted to take the Sheikha for your own must have been some sort of temporary aberration, it’s not the normal considered way you act. Though, in the circumstances, I believe you to have some justification.” Rais indicates the woman by my side, “In the heat of the desert, the chase across the sands. We have the blood of our ancestors running through our veins, the old ways were to take what they wanted for themselves.”

  Fadi nods slowly, “Sheikh Jasim, you have a beautiful wife by your side. Had I appreciated the depth of your attraction, and your intention toward her, I never would have made my play. I offer my sincere regrets.”

  Do I accept his apology?

  I raise my eyebrow at Nijad, who’s yet to speak his mind. My brother’s looking at Fadi carefully, and again I bow to his superior knowledge of this region. What would have been considered unthinkable in London, here doesn’t seem so out of place.

  “You accept Kadar will want you punished?”

  Fadi dips his head, “Sheikh Nijad, I am well aware of my crime.”

  Nijad touches my arm, “I believe he’s being honest, Jas. Let’s go inside, and find out what all this is about.” Rais nods his agreement.

  Remembering I’ve now got responsibility for someone else, I glance down at Janna. She’s staring up at me, defiance in her eyes, “Well, if you’re not going in, I will. I want to see Sally and find out what’s going on. And if you’ve hurt her…” She doesn’t finish her threat, but spoken as fiercely as any desert warrior. Fadi would be a fool not to heed her warning. I bend down to kiss the top of her head, partly to hide my smile.

  Realising we’re going to accompany him, Fadi turns and gestures for us to follow him. His men, still on horseback, disappear through the cleft in the rock from which they had come. We go a different way, entering under an ancient arch and into a sparsely furnished room with walls hewn from rock.

  “Can I offer you refreshment?” Fadi becomes host as he steps inside.

  We all decline, too impatient to meet the person we’ve come to rescue. “Are you going to bring her to us?”

  Fadi shrugs ruefully, “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

  His words don’t make sense and a growl comes to my throat. “What have you done with her? You said you hadn’t touched her.”

  “No, no. I said that and it’s true.” His hands flutter as he rushes to refute the only explanation that I can think of. “Her current predicament is down to her and no one else. Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

  Feeling bemused, I take Janna’s hand and follow Fadi down ancient corridors carved out of the rock. We come to a room, Fadi stops outside, seeming reluctant to open the roughly hewn wooden door. “This is my bedroom.”

  Now it’s Rais’s turn to scowl, “You had her in your bed while lusting after another?”

  Fadi looks like a man defeated, “No, it wasn’t like that at all.”

  As if realising there’s nothing else for it, he pushes open the door. And there’s Sally, lying on a low divan. She looks up eagerly as we enter, but her expression turns to a scowl when her eyes land on the woman by my side.

  “Sally!” Janna exclaims, running across to her friend, seemingly oblivious to the distinct lack of welcome. “We’ve come to rescue you and take you home.” Her arms reach out as if to cuddle her friend, and then waver in mid-air as she comes to an abrupt halt. As she swings back around her eyes are open wide, and her mouth twists, “You bastard! I thought you said you’d hadn’t taken advantage of her?”

  “I haven’t!” Fadi repudiates once again, this time sounding distraught. His hands push at his headdress. At Rais’s snarled prompt he starts to explain, “Look, when I brought her here she was struggling, so I used handcuffs. Once we arrived and she knew she would be unable to escape, I took them off as it was impossible for her to escape.” He pauses and rakes his hand over his headdress. “Next morning after I’d risen I came back to find her in my bed, and saw she’d handcuffed herself to that old iron pipe.”

  “Well, unlock her.” I eye up the rudimentary plumbing which had been installed at some point.

  “I can’t!” His voice is almost a wail, “She threw the key out of the window. It’s a sheer drop from there. We’ve searched, but we can’t find it.”

  By Allah! A laugh escapes me. Fuck, she’d turned the tables on him. Nijad and Rais find it hilarious too, both crossing to the window and looking out. Rais turns back shaking his head as his body is wracked with chuckles. “No wonder you couldn’t. It must be a hundred feet down.”

  Janna looks at the woman handcuffed to the bed, “Why on earth did you do that, Sal?”

  But Sally glares and looks away, her free hand coming up to wipe away a tear. I try to analyse her reaction. Why would she have done something so senseless in the first place? And why she doesn’t seem particularly happy to see the person I thought was her friend? As I watch another none too friendly fleeting glance directed at Janna, the incredible answer comes to me. She’s jealous. Fadi had his heart set on my woman, now Sally resents the object of his desires. That she’d chosen his bed to chain herself to couldn’t be accidental. And from those deductions it’s fairly easy to sum it all up. She wants him.

  The realisation brings a fresh burst of laughter, but I sober fast. Fadi has to realise. It’s time to find out. While Rais and Nijad are studying the ironwork, trying to work out if there’s any way to get her free, I beckon Fadi out of the room. At last having realised Sally isn’t in any mood to talk to her, Janna follows us out.

  I move a little way along the corridor, and then ask, “Fadi, you must know the reason why she cuffed herself to your bed.”

  He rolls his eyes, “Well it’s fucking obvious, isn’t it?”

  “What’s obvious?” Janna hasn’t put it together as quickly as I have. She must have missed or misinterpreted the looks sent her way.

  “Habiti, she wants Fadi. And she’s jealous that he wanted you.”

  “It’s a bloody mess.” Fadi, for once, has gotten something right.

  Janna’s hand goes to her mouth, “You can’t be serious?” A smile appears as she comprehends why we were laughing.

  “How else do you explain it? She hardly jumped for joy at her rescue, and chaining herself like that? She doesn’t want to leave.”

  Janna’s eyes widen, “She loved the fantasy of Arabia. She must have gotten carried away.”

  “Yes,” I can’t resist, pointing at Fadi, “By him.”

  Now she’s laughing too. “Oh Jasim, don’t.” After her reprimand, she turns sharply to Fadi, “What about you? What are your feelings toward Sally?”

  “Apart from her
being a royal pain in the arse?” he queries, and then shrugs, “She’s okay, I suppose. Pretty enough. If the circumstances were different I wouldn’t kick her out of my bed.” But under these conditions, it’s clear he’s wishing that he could. I chuckle again.

  As Janna glares at him, a seed of an idea forms in my mind. A fitting punishment, perhaps, for a man who wanted to steal a woman to be his own. To be stolen himself. I point my finger toward him, “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”

  Another shrug as he acknowledges the saying, but it obviously doesn’t click why I’m using it now.

  “You were going to take Janna and make her your own.” I wait for him to admit it, and when he gives a cautious nod, obviously not having an inkling where I’m going with this, I continue, “If Sally wants you, then you will be hers.”

  His dark skin pales as my words sink in, and his eyes widen in horror, “What? No. She’s strong-willed and annoying. Just look what she’s done!”

  “You’re not going to force her?” Janna’s worried on Sally’s behalf.

  “No,” I quickly reassure her, “But if that’s what Sally wants, her own desert sheikh, then I’m happy to facilitate it. And you,” I point my finger toward Fadi, “You’ll spend the rest of your life making her happy and fulfilling her every fantasy.”

  With a start I find I’ve slipped back into the psyche of my land, where arranged marriages are still not uncommon and are condoned instead of criticised, to imagine for one moment that such an arrangement could be acceptable.

  Particularly when Janna gasps, “You can’t do that! You can’t force him into a loveless marriage.”

  “He saw nothing wrong in forcing you.” I give it to her straight.

  “But Sally doesn’t deserve it.”

  But Sally might be getting exactly what she wants. Fadi’s a sheikh of the desert, but much of his time he’ll spend in the capital, particularly when he’s part of Kadar’s government. He’s a wealthy man, and well educated. And sentenced to the woman must be better than losing his liberty. My mouth quirks as I think how the bargain might appeal to my older brother.