My eyes narrow. “Would he really expose himself like this?”
“I’ve questioned that myself. I think in this case, yes. He’s got a real hatred for Amahad. Even before the death of his son, we kept foiling his plans.”
“Did you kill his son?”
A strange smile comes to Kadar’s face. “No, he was actually shot by an Englishwoman. She works for Grade A. But,” he taps my nose, “that stays between us. As far as al-Farhi and the rest of the world know, his son disappeared, or was most likely killed in a helicopter crash.”
Pleased Kadar trusts me enough to tell me the truth, I think over what he’s told me. Although I know the best laid plans can go wrong—I’ve recent example to show me that—everything being put in place seems enough to protect me. While my heart sank when he first told me I remained a target, I feel better knowing there’s so many people who are trying to keep me safe and, most importantly, remove the threat for good.
The thought I’ll be with Hunter, Rais and Rami both amuses and scares me. One thing I do know about all of them, I couldn’t ask for anyone who had a greater desire to keep me out of harm’s way.
“I’ll do it. When do I leave?”
Kadar lets out a deep breath. “As soon as possible. I’ll go and see what the arrangements are and make sure you get to know them.”
He collects his headdress, puts it on, then walks to the door. With his hand on the door handle, he turns and smirks. “Oh, and if you weren’t already aware, you might like to know part of the harem has been converted into a dungeon.
My mouth drops open as he disappears into the corridor. What the hell?
Because of the threat to the children, plans are put in place fast. It’s the next morning when I’m yet again getting into a helicopter, this one a twelve-seater. Serious looking military men armed to the teeth are flying with myself, Rais, Rami and Hunter. It’s a two-hour flight to Z̧almā, and we’ll be landing at the helipad at the desert palace.
For most of the way I stare out of the window. While I’ve lived so long away from my country, love for the desert is in my blood. I get sheer enjoyment from simply watching the sand pass by underneath. The dunes, the shadows cast by the sun, the outcrops of rocks and the occasional herds of desert gazelles. It gives me a sense of peace, only broken when over the headphones I hear the pilot talking to the airports, who are monitoring air traffic and radar, making sure nothing’s coming to intercept us.
It’s a reminder that this is no pleasure trip. I’m being dangled as the proverbial carrot to catch an international terrorist. It’s a sobering thought.
When I get my first glimpse of the palace my heart leaps, and I feel as I did as a child seeing it for the first time. It’s a beautiful building, some parts over a thousand years old, and surrounded by an oasis of colour. The gardens are maintained for the people of Z̧almā to enjoy. As my hand settles on a key in my pocket, I feel a buzz of excitement. Nijad had passed it to me with a wink as I was leaving, and with one word, “Enjoy.” I’d been too flabbergasted to respond with anything other than a stunned nod. And then had turned away, wishing I’d been able to stay and get to know all my brothers better. Hopefully it won’t be too long until I can come back. It seems we have at least one thing in common.
The key brings a smile to my face. If Jasim had a hand in designing it, it would probably be quite a place. I can’t wait to explore.
The helicopter lands, ending my thoughts about dungeons, and soon I’m entering into the atrium at the rear of the palace, admiring the incredible brightly lit space, a glass ceiling letting sunlight stream in. It strikes me as smaller than I remember it, though that’s understandable as then I viewed it through the eyes of a child. The palace staff are all waiting, their heads dipping quickly up and down as I pass.
“Welcome, Your Highness.” A woman steps up to me. “I am Lamis. Sheikha Cara’s personal maid. She’s asked that I be of service while you’re in residence.”
“Thank you, Lamis.” I follow her as she leads me up the magnificent staircase and along the hallways. The palace, just as I had remembered, seems more intimate and friendly than that in Al Qur’ah. She opens the door to the royal suite, the one my brother occupies when he’s here. It has two bedrooms, a comfortable looking sitting room and a dining area.
Rais steps in behind me, his low voice growling in my ear surprising me. “I will be staying in here with you. You need someone with you at all times.”
I swing around. Here? With me?
As I open my mouth to clarify, Hunter interrupts. “Not so fast, buddy.” He frowns at the desert sheikh. “I’m her close-protection officer.”
Rami scowls. “I’ve asked her to be my wife. I should be the one to stay.”
Lamis is standing with her arms folded and an amused look on her face.
“Are there other suites close by?” I ask her.
“Two,” she confirms. “Each with two beds.”
“Can you show them to my friends?” As they all open their mouths to protest, “Look, you’ll be close by in case of trouble. I’ll be fine by myself.”
“No,” Rais says firmly. “Close by isn’t near enough. I’ll sleep on the sofa. That way no one can get in without me knowing. My goal is to keep you safe, Princess.”
“In that case, I’ll take the second bedroom. I’ll only be a shout away,” Hunter says tersely.
Rami looks like he’s going to stamp his foot. “I’ve said I should be the one to stay with her. I’ll take the bedroom… Or share yours, Princess?”
Confounded by his presumptuousness, I’m momentarily stunned.
The others aren’t struck so dumb. “No!” Rais and Hunter roar in unison.
I look from one to the other, and then at Rami standing behind. There’s an argument brewing if I’m not careful. “Look…” I try to come up with a compromise. “Why don’t you toss a coin for it. Or it’s probably a large enough bed, why don’t two of you share the second bedroom?” I want nobody sharing mine.
Hunter looks at Rami and tilts his head to the side. Rami thinks for a moment, then nods. I take it no one wants to risk losing a coin toss.
That the three of them will be close by does give me some level of comfort and shows how seriously they’re taking my protection. Still, I can’t help saying, “I hope none of you snore,” as I turn away, giving Lamis a wink, which makes her giggle. My only problem is, with the three men here I can’t have a good look around and try to find that secret door. All I know is it must be somewhere in the royal suite.
Lamis makes a move to leave us, pausing only to ask, “You want to eat dinner here, or downstairs?”
“Downstairs will be fine.” I cock my eyebrow in the direction of the men, daring them to criticise.
Rais nods. “That’s a good idea. When we go down, I’ll introduce you to some of the tribal leaders. Everyone’s concerned about your safety, so they’ve come along themselves rather than just sending their men.”
“Who?” I’m intrigued.
“Sheikh’s Ghalib and Jibran. Sofian and Khalaf.”
Ghalib I remember from my youth. He must be getting on in age now—he seemed old then. Yet perhaps not, anyone over the age of thirty appears ancient to a child. I make a snap decision. “Invite them to join us for dinner.”
Rais gives his version of a smile, an expression I’ve noticed is rare for him. It seems to be one of approval.
Indicating the main bedroom, I let them know I intend to take a few minutes to myself. “I’m just going to go freshen up.”
The sitting room was becoming claustrophobic with all the posturing and testosterone flying around in it. I’m relieved to close the door on the three intense men and have some feminine time to myself. I open the door to the bathroom—it’s large with a shower that could probably hold three. A huge tub with jets, a sink, commode and bidet.
The bedroom itself is dominated by an enormous bed. I throw myself on it, bouncing as I land. Hmm. More than comfortable. If this is m
y temporary home, I’ve so far got no complaints. I roll over onto my stomach. Hang on, what’s that? Scrambling to my knees, I crawl up the bed and inspect something I saw on the headboard. Eyeholes which can only be for handcuffs. Nijad, you bugger. I laugh out loud, then get off and start having a good look around. There are fixings all over the bed. Now I know what my brother and Cara must get up to here when they’re in their official residence. I never suspected. Perhaps I should have known. Jasim did used to own a BDSM club, and Nijad is very alike. And of course, he put in a dungeon.
Is Kadar…? Yeah. Well, he told me as much. He’s a Dom as well. So that makes four of us. There certainly are traits that run in the family.
There’s a curtain over something to the side of the bed. Curious, I pull it aside. A door. Excitement bubbles inside me as I open it to find a worn stone staircase leading downward. It must lead to the harem. A quick thought for the men in the next room. They won’t miss me if I don’t take long. Then I’m carefully making my way down, eager to explore. Halfway down on the left is a short corridor, and I suspect I know where that leads to. That will probably be the lookout where the sultan would select his women for the night. Ignoring that for now, I continue on, coming to another door. This one is locked.
Taking the key from my pocket, I place it in the lock. It fits. I’m holding my breath as, with hands shaking with excitement, I push the door open. It’s dark, I can see nothing. I fumble for a light switch and, oh shit. It’s one of the best equipped dungeons I’ve ever seen. Certainly the best of the private ones, and while small, easily rivaling many clubs. A St Andrews cross, a couple of spanking benches, a bondage table. There’s even rigging set up along one side. Some equipment I don’t immediately recognise. Whips, crops and floggers adorn one wall, and just looking at them arouses me, imagining the sound of them meeting flesh. Walking over I take a paddle and weigh it in my hands, thoughts taking shape in my head, wishing I had someone to play with.
Chapter 22
Hunter
Fuck! That didn’t turn out how I wanted. Trust Rais to jump in before I got a chance to explain she needed her close protection officer nearby. During the journey I’d formulated a strategy to win her, and that didn’t fucking start with two others sharing her suite. Well, Rais can take the couch, and I hope it’s uncomfortable. Though I won’t be in much of a better position, sharing a bed with the prince.
It’s a setback. Now I’ll have to come up with another plan. Adapt and improvise—I’m used to doing that. As I deal with the disappointment that I’ll not be the only one staying in the royal suite, I eye up my rivals, thinking I’ve surely got the drop on them. That kiss shared with Aiza yesterday? It had left me walking around with a semi-hard cock for the rest of the day. There’s something about her that my body responds to, and I’m pretty sure hers reciprocated. If we’d been left alone together I was going to press my advantage, seeing just how many of my instructions she would obey. Kiss me, I’d told her, and fuck me, she did.
The memory gets my cock swelling again, and I turn and walk away, pretending to check out the second bedroom. The bed is large, and while I’m not relishing sleeping with another man, it’s big enough so we can both keep to our sides. Perhaps I’ll put pillows down the middle. Don’t want him to roll over in the night and get handsy in his sleep. Uh uh. That we’ve decided to share the room will make it harder to relieve my cock. I suppose there’s always the privacy of the shower.
The positive is I’ll hear Rami if he decides to try his chances and enter her room. Yeah, and I’m going to keep that door open. Got to keep my eye on Rais as well.
Rami’s also interested in checking out the accommodation and comes into the bedroom, his eyes landing on the bed. His sneer reveals he’s about as keen to share as I am, as he grates out, “Don’t know why we’re all staying in here. She only needs one of us.”
A slow shake of my head as I realise he’s being obtuse. “Don’t be a fool,” I reply. “It’s obvious. You think you’ve got a claim on her. It’s clear Rais does too.”
“Rais?” His forehead scrunches up, one eyebrow rising. “He’s a desert sheikh. She wouldn’t look twice at him.”
Fucking privileged asshole. He’s probably dismissed me as just the bodyguard
“And why the fuck not?” The comment’s snarled out from behind us.
Rami has paled, as would I if I were in his shoes.
Swinging around, he tries to explain. “Rais, just look what I can offer her. We can live anywhere she wants. America, Britain. You’re tied to the southern desert. You think she’d be satisfied with that?”
Rais steps closer, one hand on the hilt of the wicked looking scimitar in his belt. “I think that’s up to her, not you.” Rapidly, Rami nods as Rais turns his attention to me. “And Hunter here, he wants her too.”
I shrug. I’ll be saying nothing to contradict him. The prince looks at me, his mouth gaping. His wide-open eyes move to the sheikh, then back to me again. “All of us?” His voice sounds shrill.
A barked laugh escapes me. “The prince, the sheikh and the bodyguard. It sounds like the start of a joke.”
“I’m not finding it amusing,” Rais grumbles.
“I kissed her,” Rami suddenly spits out, as if that gives him any advantage.
Rais growls and steps towards him. Feeling I ought to prevent bloodshed, I toss out, “I did too.” I pull back my shoulders, ready to take the sheikh on, when instead he starts to chuckle.
“And me.”
It’s a ludicrous situation. Three grown men almost coming to a fight about one woman. Rais is poised, Rami’s on his toes, and I’m squaring up. Then suddenly the tension breaks and we’re all sniggering. Rais slaps Rami on the back, Rami shakes my hand, and for some ridiculous reason, it feels like a bond has started growing between us.
“So, which one of us does she like?” Rami ponders. “She did give me the signs she was seriously considering my proposal.” His face falls. “I can’t marry her if it’s another she wants.”
I shrug. “She’s kissed all of us. Yesterday morning for me.”
“And for me.”
“And me.”
A sudden fit of laughter has me doubled up while part of me wonders why I’m finding it amusing and not being consumed with jealousy. I put it down to the control I have as a Dom, possessing the confidence that it will be me she’ll choose in the end.
Having laughed too, Rais is quicker getting himself under control, and looks over his shoulder. “Talking about Aiza, where the fuck is she? How long does it take a woman to freshen up?”
I could reply it might be hours, however under the circumstances we find ourselves in, I exercise caution. “I think we should knock and gee her up. She could have fallen asleep.” As we exchange worried glances it appears we’re on the same page. None of us had checked out the bedroom, assuming no one could have got inside. Shit.
Rais is first at her door. He knocks. Then knocks again harder. The door stays shut and there’s no answer. He glances at me, and I nod. The knob twists, so at least she hasn’t locked herself in.
The door opens to reveal an empty bedroom. Pushing past, Rami goes to the ensuite bathroom, where the door’s ajar. Applying a little pressure it opens fully, revealing she’s not in there.
Pulling my gun out of its holster, I start to inspect the empty room. Rais’s scimitar has come out of its scabbard, and in the other hand he has a semi-automatic.
“Where the hell has she gone?” Rami asks anxiously, his eyes examining the empty room.
A cold feeling grips at my gut. We’ve not been here two hours and she’s already been stolen. Fucking useless bodyguard I’m proving to be. Again.
Rais and I spring into action. Pulling open cupboards, looking under the bed—there’s some bondage hooks there. However, we can’t find her. Where the fuck has she gone? She couldn’t have disappeared into thin air.
“Over here!” Rais has pulled back a curtain revealing a door and a secret passa
ge.
Fuck! Why didn’t I check this room out before I allowed her to come in here?
Rais is already moving, and I’m hot on his heels as he goes through the hidden doorway, pausing to hold my arm out to Rami. “You’re unarmed,” I explain quickly. “You stay here. Someone has to stay to raise the alarm if we don’t come back.”
He nods quickly, without question responding to my instruction.
Paying him no further attention, I follow Rais, going as fast as we can on the narrow and uneven stone staircase while trying to keep quiet. My heart’s beating fast, terrified what we might find at the bottom.
There’s a corridor off to one side, a quick inspection showing a boarded-up room. We make a quick decision to continue on downward, where the next twist in the stairs reveals light leaking out from a partially open door.
After an unnecessary gesture for me to be quiet, Rais carefully pushes it open. And…
For the second time this afternoon I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts. Rais is stunned, his eyes wide as he notes his surroundings.
There, in the middle, is the woman we thought we’d lost. Standing, holding a paddle in her hands, testing its weight. Fucking Princess Aiza.
“What’s up, I heard laughter…” Rami slams into my back as he tumbles down the last few steps. I hold him up, then turn my attention back to the object of my desires, my cock finding the whole situation very interesting.
Aiza looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights. “Oh shit.”
Rais stalks towards her. “Oh shit?” It sounds like his voice has dropped a few octaves. “Did you come here to play, Princess, or are you just curious?”
“Oh, she likes to play alright. Don’t you, Aiza?” I contribute. “Though you seem to be lacking someone to play with.”
“Play?” Asks an all too eager voice behind me.
Rais completes a full circle as he turns to survey the room. “Hmm. The equipment here has possibilities.”
Hard Choices (Blood Brothers #6) Page 19
