“Get out of here now!” It’s Ben and Jon appearing from different directions at the top of the stairwell. “We’ve got most of the crew contained. There may still be more, but this ship is going down fast. This way. Quickly.” Jon and Ryan take the lead, pausing at every corner and the top of each stairwell until we reach the lower deck level at the stern, now well down in the water. The Amahadian soldiers have secured it, have already launched the motorboat which is floating well above the yacht’s usual docking area.
Rami quickly jumps in first, holding his hands for Aiza. I don’t want to let her go. The boat’s rising and falling with the swell of the waves, and I can’t risk trying to board holding her. Taking a deep breath, I drop her into Rami’s waiting hands. Then I’m onboard, the rest of our team following. I indicate to Rami that I want him to pass her back to me, however this time it’s him who’s not going to relinquish his prize.
As Rais shouts to me to hurry the fuck up, I give up trying to take her and move up the boat. Ben does a headcount. With the exception of Yarub, who, as I feared, is dead, we’re all present and correct. Sean cuts the line tying us to the yacht, then someone starts the engine and we’re off, moving fast out over the sea. When we’re a clear distance away, Sean presses a button on a handheld device, and another loud explosion finishes off the Master of the Sea, taking its owner and crew to the bottom of the ocean, its secrets and horrors hopefully intact. With any luck it’s sunk over one of the deep areas which can be up to two thousand metres deep.
Ben’s standing, his sea legs keeping him steady even though the boat’s cutting through the high waves, his hand shading his eyes and looking back at the slowly disappearing yacht, flames hissing as they’re extinquished by the sea.
Jon, his long-time partner, tugs at his arms to make him sit down, then, when seated, turns and shows he understood his friend. “Ben, leaving them alive could have started a war. Put oil production back decades. We couldn’t leave any witnesses.”
“There were no good people on that yacht.” A small voice speaks up from under the blanket in Rami’s arms.
“Can we go faster?” Rami asks. “Aiza’s shivering.”
I suspect Aiza’s trembling with shock as well as shaking with cold. I have to resist snatching her back and giving her the comfort she needs. Someone passes a foil blanket, which is placed over her.
I’m betting this boat’s going as fast as it can, and swallow down my own plea to increase the speed. Aiza needs medical attention.
Chapter 17
Aiza
Even though the blanket and Rami’s strong arms are around me, my teeth are chattering so hard I start worrying that I’ll break my jaw. I’m gazing across at Hunter, who’s training his eyes on mine as though willing me to take some of his strength. I keep mine open, half of me fearing I’m still asleep, trapped in the midst of the worst nightmare of my life, and that it’s just transformed into one of the best possible dreams I could have. I’m frightened if I close my eyes I’ll wake up to find myself back drowning in that room.
The boat launches into another wave, then slams back down. I welcome every bit of discomfort, as it helps me believe I’m alive and my rescue is real. Although there are things that don’t make any sense.
Why am I in Rami’s arms? A man I’ve only met a few times before. Hunter and the others from Grade A, that’s understandable, but what the hell is Rais doing here? And the soldiers, talking as quietly as they can over the wind and the waves, have Amahadian accents. Are they the desert sheikh’s men? Why would they be part of my rescue at sea off the coast of Scotland?
I feel weak, tired, emotionally drained, and my chest hurts, both inside and out. I want nothing more than to relax and accept the comfort of the strong arms surrounding me, but comfort like this is unfamiliar. I had no mother to love me, a father and brothers who were distant. I’m a Domme. I give aftercare to my subs, no one’s ever given any to me. I didn’t want or need it.
I’m fighting sleep, and refuse to give in. The blankets do nothing to ease my bone-deep cold. I’m so chilled, so close to unconsciousness I fear if I give in I might never wake up.
The boat goes on through the night, battling against the monotonous sea that seems to threaten to capsize us. Although I’ve already almost drowned once tonight, I’d prefer death by the sea to torture at Twafiq’s hands. Twafiq. The man who was killed in front of my eyes. The man who’ll never buy another human being to keep as a slave and treat like an animal ever again. He’s dead. I moan as I remember his threats and promises, and Rami tightens his arms, but even while my body is held securely, my mind can’t help fearing he escaped and will be coming for me again. I shiver uncontrollably.
At last we arrive at a small port, then there’s a hasty transfer onto a helicopter. The flight doesn’t seem long, and soon I’m boarding the Kassis family jet at Glasgow Airport. As I take in the familiar surroundings, tears fall from my eyes. I never thought I’d see anything from home again.
“Rami. You can put her down now.” I feel a growl through my chest, then the voice speaks again more sharply. “Rami. Put her down. The medical team need to inspect her.”
I’m placed on a wonderfully soft, comfortable bed. The one in the bedroom at the end of the plane I realise. Then I hear the voice of the flight attendant. “Gentleman, out, please. Sheikhs, you too. Let the doctor tend to the princess, please.”
My eyes fall on Rais. I’ve seen the rugged sheikh many times in my life. Have watched him prove his riding and fighting skills in tournaments between tribes. Have seen him as a leader of men. Never have I seen the possessive expression that I do at that moment in his eyes. His piercing stare seems to probe into my mind, asking without words if I’m okay. I answer with a small nod, and then he turns and is gone.
Rami tries to linger, Hunter jostling him for a position in the doorway. The flight attendant’s all business and shoos them away.
Then the door closes. The doctor waves to the nurse and discreetly turns his back as she steps closer. Whisking off the blankets covering me, she replaces it with something like another shiny foil blanket, this one thicker than that had been wrapped around me in the boat.
“Heat blanket,” she tells me, then sticks a thermometer into my ear. “Hmm. As we expected, your core temperature’s quite low. This will bring it up quickly.”
She then puts a cuff around my arm and proceeds to take my blood pressure and pulse. She calls out the readings to the doctor, who now comes back to my side. “Any injuries that we don’t know off?” he asks.
I place my hand on that damn collar which is still around my neck. “Can you get this off?” I turn my head so he can see what he’s dealing with.
“Hmm. There’s a catch.”
“I know. I tried to undo it.”
“Nurse. Can you see if anyone has anything to pick a lock with?”
Only a minute later and I hear a commotion which quickly dies down. Ryan comes in with a smirk. “They’re fighting to see you out there,” he explains, taking an instrument out of a rolled-up toolbag. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here. Hmm.” His face creases in concentration, then there’s a snick, and at last the blasted thing comes free.
Immediately the doctor steps forwards. “It’s caused some nasty bruising, but hasn’t broken the skin.
Ryan’s holding it as if it were a poisonous snake. “Son of a bitch.” His eyes widen as he looks at me, then views the lock. “I take it you don’t want to keep it as a souvenir?”
No, I do not. “Take it away, please.”
Ryan holds it between thumb and forefinger and removes it, and himself, from my sight.
The nurse is busy checking my temperature again and making a happy click with her tongue, which suggests I’m doing okay.
“Any other pain?”
Now that darn thing’s gone I can concentrate again. “My ribs.”
“Do you mind?”
I give him permission, and he pulls down the blanket. I don’t give
a damn. After the number of people who’ve seen me naked after the past couple of days… The thought brings tears to my eyes and I stifle a sob.
“I’m sorry.” He misunderstands. “I just want to check what we’re dealing with here. You may have a cracked rib from when they were trying to revive you. We’ll check at the hospital when we land.”
I realise there’s something I haven’t asked. “Where are we going?”
“Home,” he says. And when I raise a quizzical brow, elaborates, “Amahad.”
After all the time I’ve spent trying to avoid the country of my birth, knowing I’m going to Amahad sounds the most comforting thing in the world. As long as I get there this time.
Without communicating with words, the nurse appears at his side, a hypodermic in her hand. I narrow my eyes.
“It’s a painkiller and sedative.”
As I shake my head, not wanting to lose control again, the flight attendant who I thought had gone, speaks. “Your body needs rest, Princess. Don’t fight it, you’re safe. You’re on the Kassis jet, your family is waiting for you. The plane is full of people who’d already proven they’d give their lives for you.”
As I bite my lip, still undecided, the nurse makes the decision for me, tapping a vein and then inserting the needle before I can make further protest. I try to fight it, but sleep pulls me under.
I wake as the plane is preparing to make the descent into the airport I first arrived in only a little more than forty-eight hours ago. The flight attendant has laid out clothes on the bed, and the nurse hovers in case I need help getting dressed. As I sit up I feel woozy, knowing the memory of Twafiq’s touch makes me feel dirty.
“Have I time for a shower?”
“No, Your Highness. There’ll be plenty of time later to wash the saltwater off. Rest was what you most needed. That’s right, sit up gently. Your ribs are probably going to be sore for a while.”
I shudder. Suddenly scared that history is going to repeat itself. “The airport…?”
She laughs. “I think the whole Army is there. There’s a couple of tribes who’ve sent their warriors too. No one will take you again. Emir Kadar has the hospital surrounded.”
“No hospital,” I interrupt. I just want to get to the palace where I know I’ll be safe. The palace.
She purses her lips, clearly not happy. “I’ll ask the doctor.”
“No hospital,” I repeat adamantly. Calling on my inner strength, I sit up and slide the tunic over my head, then put my feet through the legs of the shalwar kameez. I bend my head, resting it in my arms before taking a deep breath and shakily getting to my feet and pulling them all the way up. I take the couple of paces required to bring me to the door, then turn the handle and step into the main part of the plane just as the pilot announces we should take our seats for landing.
The flight attendant’s quick to settle me into the nearest seat, and sits down beside me, helping me do the seat belt up. I see Hunter’s face pop up from the row in front, and he gives me a wink.
Then, looking out of the window, I see the desert coming closer, see the runway appear, the airport buildings, the clonk as the wheels come down, and then the plane lands.
My heart starts to pound in my chest and my hands clench, remembering last time I was here and the start of my nightmare.
The plane taxies up to the main terminal. No diversion today. The steps are wheeled up, then the door opens. I’m holding my breath then let it out in a rush when my oldest brother appears at the entrance hatch wearing such a look I’ve never seen before on his face, and would never have expected. His eyes search up and down the plane, and eventually land on me at the back. He hesitates, his gaze fixed on mine, and slowly comes over, his pace quickening for the final few steps. I stand, a little unbalanced. His arms come out, and then I’m being dragged into his body and up off my feet.
Pulling back my head, I’m amazed to see tears flowing from his eyes. “Sister. Dearest sister.” His words come out as a sob.
Part of me was expecting he’d admonish me for getting kidnapped in the first place, for putting myself at risk and not being where I should have been. Now I see none of that matters. He’s just pleased to see me safe. He’s not my father.
Reluctantly he lets me slide down his body until my feet are on the ground. Still his arm steadies me. “Can you walk?” he asks quickly.
“Yes. I can.” Or at least I think I can.
“You’re going to…”
I put my hand up and cover his mouth. “I’m coming to the palace, Kadar. I need to be home.”
I see him having a silent conversation over my head with who I suspect is the doctor. Then he puts me at arms’ length and studies me. Slowly a weak smile spreads over his face. “Home,” he confirms.
I feel jittery and my chest aches as I descend the steps with my brother’s support. My eyes scan in every direction, wary of danger. As the nurse had said, it looks like the whole Army’s here or, at least, a very large part of it. Armed soldiers in every direction.
At the bottom of the steps, Nijad, Cara, Jasim and Janna are waiting, emotion clear on their faces, but Kadar waves them away. I’m grateful he doesn’t want to overwhelm me at present. My whole family is here. Now I’ll have the chance to get to know them all over again. Or, perhaps, for the first time.
In the limousine Zoe’s waiting, a toddler on her lap who I realise must be my nephew, Ra-id. He looks at me curiously, his thumb going into his mouth, and then turns to his mother for reassurance.
“This is your Auntie, Ra-id. Aunt Aiza.” Her kind, warm eyes find mine, gentling as I look at my nephew before returning to those of her son. “Something tells me you’re going to be very good friends.”
Nobody minds when I rest my eyes on the drive back to the palace, my body still exhausted from the stress as well as the sedative given to me. I’d never expected to find a comfortable silence with my oldest brother, and know he must be biting his tongue wanting to learn all the details from me. At one point I open my eyes to see him starting to speak. He’s giving something to distract him as my sister-in-law plonks his son on his lap while giving me a wink.
After watching him play with Ra-id for a moment, the difference between him and our father stressed once again, I allow myself to give in to the drugs still circulating around my body and doze.
I awake when the limousine pulls up. The palace is just how I remember it. Ornate. Opulent. Oppressive. I pause at the steps leading to the grand entrance. This time it’s Jasim who comes to greet me and takes my arm, understanding immediately why I faltered. “Give it a chance, Aiza. It’s not like how you remember.”
I try to refute that’s why I stopped. Being afraid of a place seems unreasonable. “I have been back since Father died.”
“Only for a brief visit for various celebrations. And then, like me, you probably didn’t open your eyes and see what was around you. A building can’t hurt you. It’s only the people inside that can do that.”
At that moment there’s a high-pitched squeal, and a little girl runs across the marble flagstones where, as a child, I was only ever allowed to walk, and would have been spanked had I made such a sound. She’s holding the hand of an equally excited young boy.
“Aunt Aiza. Aunt Aiza. Mummy said you’d be coming.” I sink to my knees as an ebullient child throws herself trustingly into my arms. “Hello, Zorah. And this little rascal must be Eti.”
Quickly bored with his new aunt, as though he doesn’t see what all the fuss is about, Eti staggers across and is swept up into his father’s arms. “See?” Jasim holds his son to him and raises his eyebrow towards me.
I do see. My fears of regressing back to my childhood are swept aside by seeing the very different people living here now. And, that the servants are dipping their heads in greeting, no longer bending double or prostrating themselves on the ground.
“Emir! I need your signature…”
I catch Kadar’s rueful eye and realise there are some things that
never change.
Chapter 18
Rais
“Rais, come. Sit.” Noticing Kadar looks weary, I enter the room and take the seat across from his desk. He tries to stifle a yawn, and then looks up apologetically. “Ra-id had a disturbed night.”
His admission tempts me to smile. The previous emir wouldn’t have had a disturbed night for such a reason. Children slept out of sight in the nursery, and never stayed in their parent’s suite. “Is he alright?”
“I think he was overexcited. Woke at two determined to go and play with his new aunt.”
His aunt. Aiza. “How is she?” I don’t say her name, it’s obvious who I’m talking about.
Kadar drums his fingers on the desk, giving himself time to formulate the answer. “I’d say remarkably well and back to normal. Fuck it, Rais. How the hell do I know what her normal is?” He stands and goes to the floor to ceiling windows in his office and seems to look out at the flowers blooming in the garden. “Physically she’s recovering well from her ordeal. Her ribs weren’t broken, just bruised.”
“Has she told you much about what happened to her?”
I see some of the emir’s tension seep away as his shoulders relax. “Twafiq toyed with her. Played with her mind. Made her promises, threats more to the point of what would happen, and I’ve no doubt he would have carried them out. Praise be to Allah he didn’t have a chance to rape her.” He suddenly turns, his eyes blazing. “He took a crop to her. Made her walk around that damn yacht naked with his henchmen leading her around in nothing but a collar and leash. She’s still got fucking bruising around her neck.”
My hands tighten. If I didn’t have short nails they’d be cutting into my flesh. It’s a physical pain to hear exactly what was done to her. She neither asked for or deserved anything like that. If she has recovered, it shows just how strong she is, proving once again how ideal she’ll be for me. I need that strength in a wife.
Kadar shrugs as he continues. “She spends all her time playing with the children. Yesterday they were clambering all over her as though she was a damn climbing frame. That’s what got Ra-id so worked up. I went to see her, she was laughing, smiling…”
Hard Choices (Blood Brothers #6) Page 15
