Hard Choices (Blood Brothers #6)

by Manda Mellett

  “Are you sure of that, Sheikh?” Hunter’s drawl comes to the fore. Then he snaps. “You’re staking Aiza’s life on it. Rais could be compromised in some way.”

  All at once the doors to the conference room burst open. Nijad and Jasim have arrived, both men looking near identical with matching expressions on their faces. Hunter’s shaking his head. Something tells me he isn’t happy at their appearance.

  “Update,” Nijad barks almost before he’s cleared the doorway. He might be the younger sheikh by eighteen months, but his three-year banishment to the desert has sharpened him more than his brother, who’d spent that time in a more civilised London.

  Neither brother look happy when they hear there’s nothing to tell them, that no progress has been made.

  “Are the drones up?” Nijad gives a satisfied nod when he’s told that they are.

  “Weather reports?” Jasim proves he’s not entirely clueless in this environment.

  “Sandstorm about a hundred miles east.”

  Both brothers exchange looks. “Get surveillance up in its path. Have we got satellite footage?”

  “Ben’s examining that back in London.”

  A servant arrives carrying a fresh refill of coffee, and pastries are put on the table. I take one aimlessly, more to give my hands something to do rather than satisfying any real desire to eat.

  “Have men checked his settlement?” No one’s mentioned that yet. From the derisive looks thrown at me, I have to concede that would have been the first place they looked.

  Having taken a seat, Nijad pulls a coffee cup towards him and fills it. “The objective of Aiza coming to the palace was twofold. One to keep her safe,” his scowl shows what he thinks of how that turned out, “and secondly, to catch Amir al-Fahri.”

  “We’ve spectacularly failed in the first, Brother,” Jasim butts in, then his eyebrow rises. “What’s your thinking, Ni?”

  “I’m thinking Rais doesn’t give up. He’s always got a plan B.”

  I notice Hunter’s sideways look at me and know what he’s thinking. Is Rais’s plan to protect Aiza, or to betray her?

  Zaram’s watching the two sheikhs carefully. “What, from your knowledge of Rais, would be his main objective?”

  “Rais wouldn’t see Aiza harmed, however,” Nijad’s face twists, “the prosperity of Amahad relies on the success of the oil endeavour. And the biggest threat to that is al-Fahri.”

  Now Hunter’s eyes are wide open as he looks at me. “You say there’s less chance of Rais having sold out to the terrorists, but a greater chance he’ll use Aiza as bait?”

  Nijad and Jasim look at each other, then give identical shrugs. Jasim leaves the floor to Nijad. “The desert is a harsh place, Zaram. You know that. Rais takes his responsibilities very seriously.”

  “Aiza could become collateral damage?”

  Another shrug from the princes. “I know Rais, he’d do anything to protect her. But in ensuring her future safety, he might take risks.”

  “Then it’s imperative we find them.” From what I’ve heard, there’s no chance I’m going to let Rais marry Aiza. He might have a plan B, I’ve reverted to my plan A. She’s going to marry me, even if I have to drag her kicking and screaming off into the sunset.

  Chapter 35

  Aiza

  Rais’s tribesmen waste no time getting underway. As soon as I’ve secured my hands around his waist, Rais presses his heels into the side of the horse and it leaps forwards. Making his way to the front, Rais squeezes his legs once again and the horse breaks into a trot, and then a canter. When its flanks start heaving, Rais pulls on the reins and his horse and the horde behind us drop to a walk in deference to the heat of the sun.

  The horses plod on, their footfalls monotonous. I try and digest everything that’s happened over the last twenty-four hours. My mind drifts. I feel safe here, up behind Rais, protected by his warriors. As my tension seeps away, I grow sleepy. A sudden tug on my arms has me waking.

  “Sit up in front of me. You can sleep then, Princess, I’ll hold you.”

  “I’m alright,” I reply, shaking my head to clear it. “How far do we have to go, Rais.” Looking ahead I see a mountain range coming closer. The sight brings hope that we’re nearing our journey’s end.

  “Not too far. It won’t be long until we start to climb.”

  It isn’t. The horses prick up their ears and put more spring in their steps, presumably as they smell water and grazing ahead. We seem to be approaching solid rock, then as we start to climb towards it, a cleft appears, and behind that, a path winding up a steep-sided ledge. I eye the drop-off warily, one false step and you wouldn’t have much of a chance. Rais is relaxed and confident, so I rest my head on his shoulder, trusting that he’ll keep me safe.

  It’s a fair distance. When we reach the plateau of the valley, the trek’s been worth it. Tapping his shoulder, Rais stops the horse and lets me slide to the ground. I stand, on grass, looking around me in wonder. The sounds of trickling water reach me, and I can’t stop myself going to explore this unexpected slice of paradise in the middle of the desert where an underground river emerges for a short while to keep the valley flourishing.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Rais had also dismounted, passing the reins of his horse to the rider behind. He stands, his front to my back, and puts his arms around me.

  “Gorgeous,” I agree. “Is that the pool Cara told me about?” I pull away and move forwards, looking with delight at the calm rock pool, large enough for swimming.

  Rais moves his men on to give us some privacy. “You want to take a dip?”

  That sounds glorious after our long walk and ride. “Your men?”

  “Are discreet. Go ahead. They’ll stay well out of the way.”

  Needing no more encouragement, I unwrap my headscarf then slip my tunic off over my head. Bending, I untie my shoes and kick them off. Finally, I step out of the light linen trousers I’ve been wearing, then lacking the patience to delay any longer, dip my toe into the water that’s cooler than I expected it. Then I remember that the river comes up from beneath the mountains.

  I step in deeper, until I’m up to my waist, my hands in the water moving it gently back and forth. A sudden splash throws water all over me. Rais, stripped naked, has simply dove in. He comes up with a quick shake of his head, which sends more water over me.

  “Two can play at that game.” I laugh, filling my cupped hands and retaliating.

  I shouldn’t have teased a desert sheikh. He stalks towards me, water parted by his strong thighs, reaches for my hand and tugs me in. Off balance, I slip right under. I suppose it would look odd, a tribal warrior and princess having a water fight in an oasis in the middle of the desert, though being playful with him feels so right. For the first time in hours my worries slip away. I feel carefree and happy.

  As Rais swims, I tread water, watching the man who’s fired my fantasies for such a long time, hardly able to believe that he’s mine. His body is muscular without an ounce of fat, his waist narrow, tapering down to slim, powerful hips, making me dampen with arousal as I remember those loins powering into me last night. As I look down into the crystal-clear water, I see his cock, magnificent and aroused, and I shiver, then lick my lips.

  He stands, the water up to his shoulders, and this time, as he stalks me, there’s different intent in his eyes.

  “Keep doing that, and I’ll forget I’ve got no condom with me.”

  “Doing what?” I reply innocently, my tongue coming out to moisten my lips once again. I shouldn’t encourage him. But he did propose to me, and in the heat of the night I accepted. Would the risk be so dreadful if I got pregnant with this man’s child?

  He’s moving slowly, giving me every chance to back away. The more I imagine his seed shooting up inside me, the more my nipples peak and my clit throbs. I must be mad. Must have lost my mind somewhere along the way. I’m not going to say no.

  “One last chance. One last warning, Princess.”
/>   I stand my ground, conveying my decision by the fact I haven’t moved.

  He closes the gap between us, his mouth crashing down on mine, his hand going behind my head, anchoring me to him, his rock-hard cock digging into the soft flesh of my stomach. “I can’t wait,” he tells me. Then without warning, places my hands on his shoulders, moving swiftly to places his under my arse and lifts me. I yelp and grab onto him for balance.

  Shoving my underwear aside, his cock prods my opening, a growl comes from his throat as he realises I’m more than ready for him, and with one hard thrust he pushes inside.

  “Fuck me,” I cry. Whether in shock or as an instruction, I’m not sure myself.

  He takes it as the latter, growling and surging up inside me, starting a rhythm my body immediately responds to.

  My fingernails are digging into his skin, but he makes no complaint. Just starts thrusting in harder, water in the pool sloshing around us, the waves we’re making matching those in my clenching stomach.

  “Rais, Rais.” I’m shouting his name without knowing why, not thinking anything other than how close I am. My muscles start squeezing him, my body shaking. I’m so close… He moves, changing the angle, taking me right to the edge.

  Supporting me with one strong hand, the other moves around to my clit. He rubs it, teases it, then there’s that pinch and his mouth takes mine and catches my scream.

  Then he draws back. “Aiza,” he snarls as he releases his cum inside me, pumping and pumping as though he doesn’t want to waste a single drop.

  He continues to hold me. Thinking it must be straining him, I try to put my legs down. He forces me to keep them wrapped around him. “You’re mine,” he tells me, repeating the words of last night.

  “I’m yours,” I tell him, my voice sounding shy. Letting a man come inside me seems even more intimate than letting him inside my body when he’s protected.

  We kiss again, with less urgency this time. Still without letting me go, again he frees one hand and releases my breasts from the confines of the bra, then lowers his head and lavishes attention on first one, then the other. As he uses his teeth to nip, a new zing of arousal shoots to my clit, which starts throbbing again. As my internal muscles twitch, I can feel him swelling inside me.

  Again? So fast?

  “Can’t get enough of you. The feeling of being inside you, skin to skin. It’s the best fucking feeling in the world. See what you do to me, Aiza?” He throws back his head as he starts moving again, slow slides in and out as he hardens, his features set as if in concentration, his eyes squeezed shut. Then he quickens his pace until he starts hammering.

  I don’t need extra stimulation. Automatically I clench down on his cock as I come once again, an orgasm which seems neverending, extended by the relentless pounding inside. As my body twitches uncontrollably, I feel another building again, and then I’m coming for a third time as he wrings every possible response from me. I don’t think I’ve anything more to give, then a fourth, albeitly weaker orgasm has me taking him with me.

  My head falls against his shoulder. I’m exhausted and drained. As he slips out of me, he carries me back to the bank, gets out while still holding me, and puts me down on the grass. Then he collapses beside me, his arm flung up over his eyes, his chest heaving as much as my own.

  When I can breathe something akin to normal, I lean over, placing a kiss to his chest, then curl up onto him, his free arm pulling me into his side.

  “I love you,” I tell him sleepily.

  “I know you do,” he replies. It wasn’t the answer I was looking for, but then, he just demonstrated what he felt for me in the pool.

  It’s not long until the sun dries us. He sits up, pushing me towards my clothes. “Get dressed, Aiza.”

  His tone sounds odd, his voice different. But then, perhaps it’s back to business again. He’ll have to find out what’s happening back at the palace. They must have communications here somewhere. Of course, he used his satellite phone to summon his men. A call to the general in Z̧almā and we’ll find out what we need to do next.

  As I look around I realise I wouldn’t mind staying in this magical place a little longer.

  A jangling of bridles makes me look around, and I see a man appear with two horses. A blush comes to my face as I realise we hadn’t been totally alone.

  Rais walks over and thanks the man, then leads the horses over. “Do you need help mounting, Aiza?”

  It had been Rais who taught me to ride, a skill I’ve never lost. I shake my head, and bouncing a couple of times on my left leg, throw my right over the saddle, gathering up the ornate reins in one hand.

  Rais keeps a hold of them. He looks up and into my eyes and says intently, “Everything I do, I do for Amahad.”

  Then with that enigmatic statement that I don’t know how to respond to, he releases my reins and mounts his own horse, squeezing his heels and leading the way through the valley. As the path is only single track, I can’t move alongside him, so any questions I want to ask will have to wait.

  A couple of disgruntled neighs get my attention as we pass a coral where horses are grazing, two having a slight difference of opinion. Otherwise the peace of this valley is undisturbed except for the odd voice I hear. Soon we’re approaching a huge black tent which has seen better days. As the path’s widened a little, I pull up next to Rais.

  “Is that Nijad’s tent?” I ask in wonder. It looks like it could have been here a couple of years.

  “Yes. No one bothered to remove it. Little bit battered and faded now, though still serviceable enough inside.” Again I remember Cara telling me of how romantic Nijad had been here in the beautiful valley. At the time I couldn’t credit my brother being as she’d described him, so tender and starry-eyed, yet apparently he was. There’s no doubt over the past three years he’s definitely changed. No one could be sceptical of the love they share with each other. Looking at Rais, I hope we get to the same stage. Two halves of a whole.

  We dismount. Two of his men come to take the horses, and I pause for some reason, reluctant to go into the tent even if it means I’ll be in the shade. I’m entranced by this valley, content after our lovemaking, relishing the relaxed feeling after everything that happened earlier today. The peace I feel here making the fear I’d felt earlier seem a long way behind me.

  “You coming inside?” Rais asks, clearing his throat as his voice comes out hoarse.

  “Just enjoying the scenery.” Turning, I place my hands on his robes and raise my face, wanting to feel his lips on mine, my beautiful man in this beautiful place.

  He indulges me, but only briefly, then turns me, and with his hand firmly in the middle of my back, pushes me through the tent flap.

  “I expected you before now.” It’s a stranger’s voice. Harsh and stern.

  “We made a slight detour. The princess wanted to refresh herself.”

  Who is it?

  “I began to think you were having second thoughts, Sheikh.” Slowly a man appears out of the shadows, his cruel countenance has me stepping back, bringing me up against Rais. Rais’s hands grip my upper arms, forcefully, stopping my retreat.

  “I have no second thoughts. This is the right thing to do for Amahad.”

  As he approaches, I notice he’s not as tall as Rais, although far more heavyset. He wears a headdress, which doesn’t hide his small eyes, nor the bushy beard masking his chin. He’s Arab, but I can’t tell anything more, except that he speaks English with a perfect accent.

  He nods quickly at the sheikh behind me, then speaks to him while keeping his eyes on me. “It will take years for you to see any profits from the oil revenue. My money will allow you to kickstart the projects you want to see completed for the tribes. New schools and medical facilities. A lot of good for your people will come from what you are doing here today.”

  What is Rais doing? I grow cold as things start to fall into place. Those things that had previously made me feel uneasy all start to add up.

  �
��Ah, Princess. I see you are putting two and two together. Let me introduce myself. My name is Amir al-Fahri. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance in person today.”

  I can’t stop myself. This man is responsible for so many deaths worldwide, my hand seems to move of its own volition as I wrench my arm out of Rais’s firm grasp and slap the terrorist across his face.

  It’s no match for the one he gives back. I would have fallen to the floor if Rais hadn’t been holding me. I wait for Rais to protest, to protect me. Apart from a slight tightening of his grip, as he pulls me back and his hands take a more secure hold, he says nothing in my defence. Instead he says harshly, “Can we get on with this?”

  “All in good time.” Amir continues walking around me, as if eyeing up a prized camel. “I wasn’t sure if you’d go through with this, Sheikh. You’ve gone up in my estimation.”

  “I got you into the palace, didn’t I? And got her out without raising suspicion.”

  I turn, look at the person I’d trusted, respected all my life and had let down my barriers and admitted I loved him. I put as much hatred into my expression as I can. Then I spit in his face.

  Chapter 36

  Hunter

  I’m frustrated as hell and going out of my mind with worry. We’ve still no reports of where the helicopter landed, whether it crashed in the sandstorm, or of where Rais and Aiza might be.

  Mustapha has found himself on the other end of interrogation techniques when we try to discover whether Rais had divulged his plans. If he knows, so far he hasn’t told. Nazam sent people to Rais’s settlement, however there’s been no positive news from there. The desert sheikh seems to have disappeared into thin air. All we know is that his elite team of men has also disappeared, together with his current heir and successor, his nephew, Fuad.

  I pause in my pacing and rasp, “What we’ve got to consider, Nijad, is whether Rais is attempting a coup.”