Hard Choices (Blood Brothers #6)

by Manda Mellett

  I shoot Rais a look. “I’d appreciate being part of it.”

  It’s Hunter who responds. “Aiza, I won’t let you be left in the dark. If you don’t know what’s happening, where and who to run to if it comes to it, you’ll be an easier target to snatch.”

  Rami’s nodding. “I agree. Unless the intelligence people demand secrecy, you’ll be included in all the discussions. He glances at the other sheikhs as he talks, and they don’t seem to have a problem.

  It’s not just women getting behind the wheel of a car that’s changed since I was last here then. I’ve had nothing but respect from these men tonight. If I discount what happened in the harem earlier.

  Sensing the atmosphere changing in the room, I realise the meal, and the discussion afterwards, is wrapping up. If I tried to start up further conversation people would wonder what I was doing. None of them will stand up and leave until I do. I’ve enjoyed this evening more than I thought I would. No one has treated me anything other than an equal. Things like Jibran’s delighted reaction to the birth of his sister’s baby giving me much to think about.

  Now I can tarry no longer. My mind starts to wonder what’s going to happen when we get back to the suite. Glancing at the three handsome, very different men waiting for me to rise, my thighs clench as a familiar need starts to grow. My head tells me to run into my bedroom and lock the door. My body’s got entirely different ideas.

  I stand, and already my heart rate’s sped up. If I want any of them, I could have my choice. Maybe all three of these men would be mine.

  Taking my leave of the sheikhs, my escorts get into up position once again, and we retrace our steps back along the corridors and up the staircase to the royal suite. I bite my lip. There’s something they don’t know—and quite obviously don’t expect—and maybe it’s time I come clean and tell them.

  With three large men surrounding me, their masculine odour overwhelms me. I feel myself becoming more and more aroused at the thought of what could possibly happen if I give them the word. I’m scared, and worried that my revelation is going to change the delicate dynamics. If I give in to them, what if I do something that breaks their newfound friendship up? What if that leads to their focus not being on catching the terrorist, and instead intent on fighting amongst themselves? Can I take that risk?

  Why on earth am I contemplating giving in to them? If I hadn’t played in clubs I’d be outraged at the memory of them all having their hands on me at once. It’s not the way a normal woman would behave, or even think of or want. I can’t do this, can’t let their joint masculinity engulf me.

  No, There’s too much risk. I’m not here to enjoy myself, I’m here to try and divert a terrorist’s attention away from the Palace of Amahad so the next generation of the Kassis family can stay safe. Whatever my need, my wants or wishes, I’ve got to keep thinking with my head. Which means I need to politely say goodnight, go to my bedroom and turn the key in the lock that I noticed earlier.

  We reach the suite, Hunter opens the door. As I lift my foot to step inside, strong arms come around me and hold me back, and glancing behind I see it’s Rais. Hunter steps in and looks around, then opens the doors and disappears into each bedroom. He’s far longer in the master bedroom, and I realise he must be checking out the dungeon.

  “All clear.” He tells us when he comes back into sight. Rais puts his hand to the small of my back, his palm seems to burn me. Hunter’s standing only a metre or so inside the door, blocking my way. As I near him he gives a smirk and holds out his hand as if to give me something. Automatically I reach out mine to take it. “I think you ought to keep this somewhere safe.” I look down to see the key to the harem that no one remembered to lock earlier.

  My face glows, comprehending the significance. He’s given the choice to me. I straighten my back, the movement moving me away from Rais’s touch. “I don’t think I’ll be using this again,” I warn them, while my body’s screaming, Yes you will. My head tells it to shut up and be sensible.

  Chapter 24

  Rami

  I watch Aiza almost run as she disappears into her bedroom, and the turn of the key in the lock sounds loud in the quiet of the room.

  Rais is looking at Hunter with a puzzled expression on his face. “You think she means it?”

  Hunter smirks. “No. She likes to play too much.”

  I tap my fingers against my knees. “She’s a Domme, Hunter. Not sure she’s used to being told what to do.”

  “She’s a challenge,” he replies thoughtfully.

  It’s time I stood up for myself. So I do, literally as well as metaphorically, getting to my feet. “And,” I begin forcefully, “she’s mine.” We were all swept away in the dungeon. Things happened that perhaps we shouldn’t have done with me and my future wife. Nevertheless, I was the only one touching her intimately.

  Rais lifts an eyebrow. “How do you work that one out?”

  “I’m the one who asked Kadar for her hand in marriage. It’s been the understanding between our two countries since she was born.”

  The desert sheikh’s brow creases as he puts his arm over the back of the couch and crosses one leg over his knee. “Actually, you’re not. I’ve spoken to Kadar too.” As shock spreads over my face he continues, “I’ve been wondering, Rami. Why you? Why not your oldest brother and heir to the throne? If there’s to be a match between Amahad and Alair, surely that would be the best pairing?”

  I draw myself up to my full height. “Do you not think I’m good enough for her, Sheikh Rais?”

  Hunter scoffs a laugh. “It’s not that, Prince Rami.” He stands and comes over. As tall as me, we’re looking eye to eye. “Do you really think it would be a match made in heaven? You said it yourself, she’s a Domme. And you’re quite clearly submissive.”

  Rais, still lazily relaxed, lets his dark eyes meet mine. “You’re a prince, Rami. How’s that going to work in the real world? Your princess ordering you around…”

  I shrug. I can’t see anything wrong in that at all.

  Suddenly Rais is on his feet. He’s taller than Hunter, and this time I do have to raise my head to meet his fierce gaze. “When you’ve got an army bearing down on you. When a terrorist attacks. What are you going to do then?”

  I swallow. Alair’s not suffered in the same way as Amahad. The king is not like Kadar’s predecessor, ruling with a government, and not in autocratic ways, so there’s been no unrest with the desert tribes. We’ve not been the target of a terrorist organisation, because we didn’t have oil reserves before. Now that we do, it’s a possibility that we, or I, might be tested in ways I’ve never previously been. Of course, I’ve had military training, but I’ve not been at the front line.

  There’s only one answer I can give him. “I’d protect her with my life.”

  Hunter’s watching our interaction carefully. He goes to a drink cupboard and pours himself a glass of amber liquid. While alcohol isn’t officially served in the palace, it doesn’t surprise me that Nijad keeps the royal suite stocked. He waves the bottle at Rais, who dismisses it. I, in turn, nod.

  After bringing my drink over, Hunter leans back against the ornate cabinet. “Aiza’s not a creature of the desert, Rais. So what would you have to offer her, Sheikh?”

  Now Rais seems even taller. “What do you know about her, Hunter? What would you know about her needs and desires? I’ve known her all her life.”

  Hunter shakes his head. “With all due respect, I think you know fuck all about her. Neither of you knew what she did for a living. All you knew was she was living a privileged life in Switzerland, when actually she was in England. Or travelling the world playing in different BDSM clubs.”

  Rais makes a gesture of dismissal. “She’s sewn her wild oats. It’s time for her to settle down. Grade A didn’t know much better…”

  “We weren’t supposed to be looking after her then. She had no need of additional security in what was supposed to be a secure compound.”

  “I’ve not f
ailed her. Nor will I. And any settling down there will be with me.” I decide it’s time to put my foot down and make my position clear.

  Hunter looks thoughtful. “She responded to all three of us in the dungeon.” He’s right, she did. Playing for fun is one thing, and while I enjoyed submitting to Hunter and wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to do it again, committing to Aiza for life is something entirely different.

  “As she would to anyone if she was playing in a club,” I reply indignantly. “That has no bearing on who takes her hand in marriage.”

  Rais swings around. “I don’t know what the fuck happened in the dungeon.” He rubs at his forehead. “I can’t deny it seemed to all fall into place.”

  “What if she does want to play again?” Hunter seems set on the idea. “Think what the three of us could offer her.” My mouth drops open at the suggestion, and the man from Grade A laughs and points his glass towards me. “I know she plays as a Domme, however, she responded to me as a Dom. And you play the part of the sub, so that part of her would be satisfied too.”

  Rais snorts. “Where am I in this scenario?” Both eyebrows now rise as he queries Hunter. I’m surprised he hasn’t dismissed the idea out of hand.

  “You’re dominant too. You must know that.”

  One corner of Rais’s mouth turns up. “Too dominant to share. On a permanent basis at least.”

  This is getting ridiculous. “She’s mine. I’ve proposed to her.” I realise I sound like a petulant child, and know I’ve got to tone it down. I’m a prince for fuck’s sake. If I’m not careful I’m going to lose the woman I’ve been half, if not fully in love with, since I danced with her at Nijad’s wedding.

  Hunter’s phone chimes just as mine pings with a text. Rais takes his out too. The American sets down his glass, Rais sweeps his robes behind him and moves to the door, and I follow behind. After addressing the guard outside, making sure one takes up station inside the suite, Rais leads the way down through winding corridors of the ancient palace, down the ornate stairs, and from there to a modern looking conference room.

  General Zaram’s already seated at the head of the table and looks up as we enter. He stands and looks like he’s going to move until Rais lifts his hand, indicating he should stay where he is. We find empty seats at the table and sit down. Hunter nods at his colleague, Ryan, and I notice there’s other military men seated around. Rais leans forwards and raises his chin towards the elderly sheikh, Ghalib.

  Once we’re settled, Zaram begins. “I apologise for disturbing your evening, but this information can’t wait. Amir al-Fahri knows where Princess Aiza is. In one way we’ve been successful. It’s at least turned his attention away from the Palace of Amahad.”

  “He knows she’s in the Desert Palace?” Hunter asks for confirmation.

  “Kadar received another communication. This one said there was nowhere Aiza could hide where she’ll be safe. Al-Fahri indicated he’s happy playing this game, and emphasised he’s playing to win. That Kadar would be brought low, knowing there was nothing he could do to protect his sister, and despite his efforts, she would be taken.” The general breaks off, wiping a hand over his face.

  “He wants to kill her?” Hunter asks in his drawl. I notice the American side of him comes out more under stress.

  The general shakes his head. “No. He made that quite clear. He intends to take her so Kadar knows she’s alive and suffering. Until all progress on the pipeline is stopped and, presumably, until he’s exacted all the revenge he needs for his son.”

  Ghalib sits forwards. “Don’t like to see women brought into our wars, but we depend too much on the oil. Can’t give in to al-Fahri’s threats.”

  Isn’t she worth more than a few barrels of oil?

  “We’ve got to stop him. Once and for all,” Rais interjects. He glances around the table, sparing a moment for each of the key players. “I’ll remind you, this is what we planned. Al-Fahri has got her so far in his sights, he might get careless. We watch, listen, and plan. It’s our best opportunity to take him out. Get rid of this threat once and for all.”

  A man I don’t know in a suit raises his head from the tablet he’s been watching. “There’s troops gathering just beyond the border into Ezirad. It could be his men.”

  “He’s going to take the palace by force?” I ask while cursing the sultan of Ezirad for being so weak and having no control over the borderland on his side.

  “We can’t rule it out,” General Zaram replies.

  “I’ll get my men, and those of Jibran, Sofian and Khalaf to meet them on this side if they’re going to cross.” The elderly sheikh bangs his fists on the table to punctuate his point.

  “Hold on a moment, Ghalib. We’re only going to get one chance at this. They’ve got to be stopped. Any weakness on our part and our forces could be decimated. If that happens, not only will that leave Princess Aiza unprotected, but the infidel will be able to invade our southern desert. Worse, make their base in Z̧almā.” Rais stares him down, then turns to the man in the suit. “Your intelligence is from satellite, I presume?”

  He gets a stare back, though the man, presumably from MI6, isn’t going to reveal his sources.

  Rais raises his chin towards Zaram. “First, we need to know the size of the force, their armament, and where they’re heading.

  “I agree.” General Zaram turns his attention to Ghalib. “Let’s get down to figures. How many men…”

  “Stop.” I stand up, then lean over with my palms flat on the table. When everyone’s eyes come to me I continue. “You’re reacting exactly the way they expect us to react.” I wave my arm around the table. “You’re all military men. You see the enemy and want to face it head on.”

  Zaram’s not happy that I, not even a citizen of Amahad, have interrupted him. “Prince Rami, you forget,” he starts, “Amahad has been fighting border wars for decades, if not centuries. We are well versed in stopping our foes crossing into the southern desert.”

  “And that’s the point.” I stare him down. “Your focus is preventing people coming in.” I wouldn’t deny it’s not without good reason. Jihadists have been trying to infiltrate Amahad for years, unhappy that the northern half is multicultural. Alair, on the other hand, is far more traditional, and not such a target for those wanting to start a religious war. “You might be right, Zaram. On the other hand, you could be wrong.”

  “It is never wrong to stop an army invading.” Ghalib’s stern gaze makes me feel like a small boy. Nonetheless, I hold my ground.

  “What’s the result if you move the troops and make a show of force at the border?”

  Rais sucks in air. “We leave the palace security weakened.”

  Hunter’s looking at me with something akin to respect. “You’re suggesting it could be a decoy.”

  I nod and take my phone out of my pocket. “There’s one way to find out without moving our troops.” Though it’s late at night, I place a call, and being who I am, am quickly connected.

  “Sultan Qudamah. Greetings.” I put it on speaker phone.

  “Prince Rami. To what do I owe this pleasure.” Qudamah speaks a slightly different dialect, so we both talk slowly to make sure we understand each other. Perhaps placing the call at this table was indiscreet. All eyes stare at the phone as though looking at the man himself.

  “I’ve received some worrying information, and I seek to have your opinion on the matter.”

  Qudamah can be heard clearing his throat. “Go ahead.”

  “I’ve heard there’s an army gathering on your northern border. As you are aware, Alair and Amahad have a peace treaty with Ezirad.”

  The sultan’s quick to read between the lines. “If there is such a force, it is nothing to do with us. We stand only to gain from continued peace between us.”

  “Your confirmation is welcome, Your Excellency. Nevertheless, it appears there is an army getting prepared. Our Amahadian allies can see no alternative other than to ready themselves for invasion. If Ezira
dians are involved, retaliation.”

  “I reiterate, Prince, war with Amahad is the last thing on our minds.” The tone suggests I’ve caught Qudamah wrong-footed, and now have him worried.

  “That’s good to know. As a war with Amahad would also be a war with Alair.” My stress on the word war is entirely intentional.

  Qudamah sighs audibly. “What do you want, Prince?”

  Now I know I’ve got him where I want him. I never believed it was Eziradian troops, just wanted to put the fear of Allah into him. “I want to confirm the size of the force that has gathered. And the nature of their equipment.”

  “It may be our own soldiers performing manoeuvres in the desert. We do undertake such exercises.”

  “You can easily find that out.”

  “I can.”

  Rais looks like he’s going to speak. I wave him down, wanting Qudamah to believe he’s only dealing with Alair. “Have there been any heavy troop movements through your country? Tanks? Artillery?”

  “That I can also discover. If the infidels are gathering, you can assure your father that my military will make a joint attack with the Amahadian Army. The protection of the oil fields and pipeline is of paramount importance to all our countries.”

  I thank him, ask him to get back to me without delay, and then end the call.

  There’s silence around the table. Zaram’s regarding me with wide open eyes.

  “That’s helpful, Rami.” Rais sounds impressed. “You seem on good terms with Qudamah.”

  I shrug. “We need to know what we’re dealing with. Qudamah’s not got a good hold on his country, we all know that. His own position is fragile. If the oil fields bring the dividends we expect, he’s strengthened and less likely to face a coup. It helps to remind him that he needs to keep both of our countries onside.”

  As I retake my seat, Zaram’s looking at me respectfully. “You don’t believe there’s a force gathering for invasion?”