Dark Horses: (Blood Brothers #5)

by Manda Mellett

I set out the details, “You spend a month together. Never apart. Take her to your desert encampment and woo her under the stars. You take her to Al Qur’ah, and show her the sights. If, at the end of the month, she doesn’t want you anymore, then you are released from the agreement. If, however, she wants to become yours, you marry her. And,” remembering Muslim laws which, while not nowadays commonly observed in Amahad, could allow him to take more than one spouse, “She will be the only wife you have.”

  “She’d be too much of a handful by herself, for me to take another as well,” he grumbles. But there’s a light in his eyes, whether it’s the reprieve from a prison sentence, or a genuine interest in the woman, it’s hard to tell.

  “It’s down to her Fadi. It’s her choice. That’s the punishment for wanting something that wasn’t yours to take.”

  It’s only then I realise Nijad and Rais are behind me. And they’ve heard every word by the grins on their faces. “A fitting solution, brother,” Nijad says as he slaps his hand on my back, “We’ll make a desert sheikh of you yet.” And that, from my brother, is probably meant as a compliment.

  Rais nods his appreciation, and then jerks his chin over his shoulder, “Good pair of handcuffs there. And a fucking strong iron drainage pipe. No chance of removing them without a hacksaw. I’ve tried to call Nasir, but there’s no signal in here. I’ll go outside and get him to send for one.”

  “While you’re gone, we’ll have a talk with Sally. You wait here, Fadi.” At his distracted nod, I take Janna’s arm, and lead her back into the bedroom. Sally’s sitting with one arm across her chest, looking about as fed up as I’ve ever seen anyone. While it might have seemed an excellent idea at the time, she’s probably regretting her impulsive action now.

  “We’re having to get some tools,” I tell her.

  “Sheikh Rais told me that.”

  As Janna approaches her, she turns her head away. “Sally,” Janna starts tentatively, “I’ve got something to tell you.” Her eyes flit to mine, I agree with a nod. Although our marriage isn’t real, I can understand knowing about it might comfort her friend if she believes it is. “Jasim and I got married yesterday.”

  Sally looks at her sharply, “Married?”

  “Yes.” Janna shows her the ring, and gestures toward my hand. I flash mine toward the bed, feeling a strange glimmer of pride.

  “He’s the only man for me,” I think she’s laying it on a bit thick, but it will do for now. “And Fadi had an infatuation, though heaven knows why. He only saw me for a moment, and I wouldn’t say that was at my best.” I have to disagree, she’d looked fantastic running over the sand, casting frightened glimpses back over her shoulder. Her palpable fear stirring my loins. Maybe Fadi has similar appetites? No, fuck, I’m not going there. I’ve no similarities with that man.

  “Sally, you like him, don’t you?”

  Sally shrugs.

  “Oh come on,” Janna teases, “You chained yourself to his bed. What else are we to think?”

  She humphs, then admits it. “Oh alright, yes. I like him. But he likes you, so nothing can come of it.”

  “It might do.” I butt in, then go on to explain the deal I’d just made with him. “He’s yours if you want him.”

  Her eyes open wider than I would have thought they could, and her fingers cover her mouth. “Oh my. He’s mine?”

  “If, after a month, you want him to be. Yes.”

  And now she’s flushing red, and her free hand reaches out to grasp Janna’s. “Oh my God. A month with a sheikh?” Her excitement is tangible.

  “I’ll send a man with you. He’ll make sure you’re treated right. And at any time, if you want to leave, he’ll arrange to get you back to England.”

  Even though I’ll do it whether she wants the protection or not, my practical proposition seems to pass her by. Whatever she thinks she feels for Fadi, or whether it’s the fantasy or the man, it certainly runs deep.

  Chapter 28

  Janna

  “I just don’t know what to say to you.” Joe shakes his head, and reaches into his pocket but pulls his hand out empty. We’re in Amahad, he’s left the makings of his joint behind in England. He gives a rueful glance then pulls out a cigarette instead. I make no objection as he lights it, having more than a bit of smoke to be concerned about today. “You get married to a goddamn sheikh, for fuck’s sake, then disappear into the desert with no word as to where you are?”

  “A sheikh who’s much older than you. Fuck girl, when you decide to muck your life up, you do it right, don’t you?” Mickey’s disappointment is rolling off him in waves.

  “And what about the band? You can’t just walk away.” Rory gets in his two pennies worth.

  “Go on Liam, Ben. You’ve probably got something to say, too.” I raise an eyebrow and wait for their condemnation. I’ll give them all the opportunity to get it off their chests.

  Ben is staring at me, then he shakes his head, “Your life, your bed. But I’m not going to kid you and say that I like it.” He pauses for a second, “And now you’re suggesting you’re leaving us in the lurch?”

  “You’re just as good as me, Ben. You can carry the lead.”

  “Not before we get a new rhythm guitarist, he can’t.” Mickey stands and balls some rubbish, chucking into a nearby bin. “You can’t just walk out on us. Fuck, Janna, half our audience comes to see you. We’ve got gigs lined up, and an obligation to fulfil them.” But they’ve got Joe, he’s a crowd puller too. Although, while I’m not being modest, I admit he’s got a point. The vocalist doesn’t have the same attraction for men.

  “We’ve just completed the music vid. Blake’s added in the filming in the desert and it looks pretty good. Be a bit stupid to go on with the band minus its star.”

  I nod at Liam. The video that was supposed to consolidate our future. I stand and pace to the windows, looking out over the gardens of the desert palace. For the past half-hour, I’ve been trying to persuade them to let me take time off from the band. As far as they all know, my marriage is the real thing. They have no idea it’s a ticking time bomb. Or that everything between Jasim and I is fake. The only person with a hope of getting her own personal sheikh out of this has turned out to be Sally. And how fucked up is that? My hands come to my face, my fingers touching lips that so recently felt Jasim’s caress. He’d been extremely apologetic, but had explained he had no option other than to leave this morning to make a pre-arranged visit to the oil fields which meant he’d be gone for a few days. I’d wanted to be here when he got back, to spend all the time I can with him, to explore his particular brand of sex, which I doubt I’d find anywhere else. If I leave now, a voice in the back of my head warns me, although I might see him again, it would probably just to keep up pretences, he might prefer to go back to his subs.

  I’m not going to kid myself. The only reason this affirmed bachelor married me was because it seemed the easiest way to avoid bloodshed when we went up against Fadi, there was for no other reason. And while I’d agreed to do my part so we didn’t cause embarrassment to his country, a fake marriage doesn’t necessarily prevent us living apart. Anyone would understand my prior commitment to the band, a duty, as Mickey and the others have said, I’m wrong to feel like breaking.

  The sight of flowers blooming in the heat of the desert sun, swaying in the warm breeze, doesn’t calm me. Deep down I know if I were to leave now and go back to London with the rest of Anarchy Rules, I’ll probably only see Jasim again when it’s necessary to keep up the sham. And then, when the time’s right, we’ll quietly get a divorce. He’ll find someone else to torture. The nausea in my stomach lets me know just how much I’ll care.

  He warned me, repeatedly, that his brand of sex didn’t lead to a relationship. But I want more.

  Anarchy Rules needs me to return with them, they’ve been telling me all morning how selfish I am to want to stay. But I know, if I go with them, Jasim will take the opportunity to start winding our marriage down.

  If I wait
for him to return, will it only to snatch a few more nights with him before saying goodbye? How long will it be before he decides it’s time to move on? Is he, even now, using the time apart to come to his senses? Remembering all the reasons why any bond between us isn’t going to last very long? Will our glorious lovemaking slowly become a half-hearted affair? What would it feel like to gradually be pushed aside? Would it really do any good just to postpone the inevitable? How often had he told me he wasn’t going to commit to one woman? It’s only a matter of time.

  The flowers bend in the warm breeze. While they look at their best today, they’ll start dying before long, decaying before they outstay their welcome, to be replaced in time by even finer blooms. Unlike the flowers, I don’t want to wither away.

  But to leave without speaking to him? He’ll probably be relieved. If I stay longer, I’ll risk losing more of my heart, already I’ll already be leaving a big enough piece of it behind. Despite my best intentions, I’ve fallen for him.

  So, there are my choices. Leave of my own volition, or wait to be politely turned away. He’s never led me to believe things could be any different. He’s never lied.

  Mickey’s crossing and uncrossing his arms, his patience wearing thin. “Well?” he snaps, “You’re still fucking married to the man. Returning and fulfilling your obligations won’t have an effect on that.”

  Oh, but it will. Jasim will have an easy out.

  “And it might give you some space to decide if that is really what you want, Janna.” Joe, as so often, is the voice of reason. “It happened so fast. Too fast if you ask me. He’ll understand you need to come home. Has he insisted you to leave the band?”

  I shake my head, no, in fact he said we’d work the logistics out. He wouldn’t want me to upset my life for a temporary fling. And while playing on stage holds none of its previous attraction right at this moment, I’d be a fool to give up what I’ve worked so hard for so long.

  “He’ll understand you’ve got responsibilities, girl.” That’s the point, Mickey. He probably will.

  My heart feels so heavy, but my mind knows what’s right. Even as I make the decision, I already feel empty inside, like part of me is missing.

  “I’ll come back.” I take a deep breath and one last glance at the blossoms, swaying in the breeze. Just like those flowers, I’ve only a transient place in Jasim’s life.

  “Thank fuck for that.” Mickey strides over, puts his arms around me, and kisses the top of my head. “If your sheikh’s worth anything, he’ll accept it and want to support you. And he’ll be coming back himself in a few weeks, you can pick up from there.”

  What the drummer doesn’t know is that Jasim will be grateful to find I’m gone when he returns. Thankful that he doesn’t need to be the one to force the break. And I won’t have to listen again when he explains he doesn’t do relationships, and while the sex was good—out of this world amazing—everything else between us was an illusion.

  Joe starts to gather our bags, already packed and waiting. He glances across at me, and shakes his head. “Sooner we get home the better. Must be something in the air here making people do ridiculous things. You getting married, and Sally staying on to stay with a godforsaken tribe to get more experience of the desert. You’ll see this in a different perspective once we get home.”

  At least everyone bought the story of why Sally wasn’t coming back. But then she’d rung them herself using a satellite phone, on loudspeaker I’d heard the excitement in her voice. I was happy for her, though wished it was me who could stay with my sheikh. Joe’s voiced my fear, once I’m away from this magical place, my own dream will be over. But I can’t tell them the truth.

  Liam touches my shoulder as I walk toward the door, and Rory stops me to give me a hug. “It won’t be forever. Jasim’s based in London, you’ll see him again soon. And you know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

  They don’t understand. I might never see him again. Or at least, never to be intimate with him. Which helps me accept leaving is the right thing to do. My reluctance to return to England, my desperation to have more time with him… If I don’t go now, I’ll be risking what’s left of my heart.

  Without Jasim beside me, the helicopter makes me feel ill and I’m relieved when we finally land at the airport where we meet up with Blake and Eli, and soon find ourselves on a commercial flight back to the UK. All the arrangements had been made on the assumption I’d come to my senses.

  It’s sleeting when we land, the dark clouds overhead unleashing their load. The onset of winter letting me know my Amahadian tan will soon start to fade. I hope my infatuation with Jasim will dwindle along with it. To live with this emptiness is more than I can bear.

  Everything is the same as I left it as I walk into our flat. Apart from the stuffiness from being shut up, the lingering stale cigarette smoke tainting the air makes it seem as if I’ve never been away. Carrying my bag into my bedroom, I sink down onto the bed, lie back, and stare at the ceiling. The last two weeks already seem like a dream. A wonderful, glorious fantasy, and now it’s time I awake.

  “Hey, we’re getting takeaway.” Sunny walks in without even knocking. “Want some?”

  I don’t feel hungry at all, but I suppose I’ve got to eat. “Yeah, what’re you getting?”

  “Chinese?”

  “Fine by me.” Suddenly I pull myself up, and in an effort to forget my Arabian dream, try to think about somebody else, “Sunny, what’s the latest with you and Rory?” And Liam, I add in my head. “I don’t want to put my foot in it.”

  She comes over and sits down beside me, her fingers toy with the duvet cover, “It’s all one big fuck up.”

  Jasim’s opened my eyes to the world of sex, giving me experiences I’ve never had before. Who am I to criticise what anyone else does? What Jasim did, and probably wanted to do to me, what I enjoyed, what we’d done in private, might not make much sense to another person. “It’s your life.”

  Looking at me intently, she shakes her head. “I’m going to end it, Jan. I can’t carry on. Neither of them can give me what I really want. It’s just become comfortable, you know?” This time she meets my eye, “I know Rory’s not faithful to me, Liam keeps me occupied when Rory wants to go out.” She looks at the ground, the tip of one shoe brushing up against the other. “To begin with, he just sort of came around when Rory disappeared for the night. Then, one day, we got to kissing. I was reaching for the remote—we were watching a film—and I sort of fell on him. It was an accident. And then, exciting, you know? But wrong.”

  I don’t know, but I keep silent.

  “A couple more times, and he wanted to take it further. And that’s when Rory admitted he hadn’t been faithful. And suggested I go with his brother. What did you call it? A consolation prize? Yeah, that’s exactly what it was.”

  “That must have really hurt.” I feel sorry for her.

  A shrug, “Writing was on the wall even then, wasn’t it? It didn’t bother me much at the time. But it’s not healthy, and I want more. So, I’m going to end it. With both.”

  All the anger and disappointment I’d felt toward her disappears at her admission. I reach for her hand and squeeze it.

  “I’m sorry the boys made you come back. You must be missing your sheikh. But you’ll see him soon enough, won’t you? Will you be leaving the flat? Moving in with him?”

  Moisture starts to form at the back of my eyes, tears pricking, threatening to fall. Sunny’s shared my hopes and dreams for so long. And she’s just shared something personal and painful with me. Knowing I’d appreciate someone on my side, I take a deep breath and let it all out, “Don’t tell the others. Not yet. I couldn’t stand it.”

  “Tell them, what?”

  “It was all fake, Sunny. I knew what I was getting into, okay? Sex. Good sex.” Tremendously great sex.

  She’s looking at me wide-eyed. “Go on.”

  “I didn’t fall head over heels for him,” Are you sure about that?
“And neither did he for me. The marriage wasn’t real, Sunny.”

  “Tell me the rest, Janna. You know I’ll keep your secret.” I know she will. In the seven years that I’ve known her, never once has she betrayed a confidence, as I have kept hers.

  I have no trouble sharing the truth. “Sheikh Fadi had kidnapped Sally, she didn’t just run off with him.” It was the story we’d told everyone, and her flightiness had meant they’d had little trouble accepting it. “Fadi wanted me, he took Sally so I’d be exchanged for her. Jasim stepped up and, by putting a prior claim on me, Fadi’s plans were foiled.”

  “But Sally’s still with him.”

  I smile at that, “Fadi’s punishment for taking her. She wanted to stay.” Suddenly I’m telling her everything, the whole story about her handcuffing herself to his bed. Soon we’re both rolling around with laughter at the thought of the predicament Fadi’s now in.

  “Do you think she’ll stay with him?”

  “Apparently, it’s her choice. We’ll have to see what happens in the next month.”

  “Food’s here!” Mickey’s voice floats up the stairs.

  “We’ll be there in a sec.” Sunny yells back, and then turns to me, “So, you and Jasim?”

  I huff, “There’s no me and Jasim. We’ll be getting a divorce.”

  “Oh, hon, that’s bad.” Pulling me in for a hug, she tries to give me some comfort. “But now you’ve dipped your toe in the water, you know what you want. We’ll find someone else for you. Hey, we’re both on the lookout now.”

  Chapter 29

  Jasim

  After the failed attempt to liberate Sally from Fadi, my already planned arrangements meant the very next day I’d been plunged into a tour of the oil fields, leaving me precious little time to spend with my wife. Unable to alter engagements which involved a heavy press presence, along with meetings with oil company reps, I’d had no choice but to leave her, my reluctance down to the ideas in my head of a variety of scenes I wanted to try with her.