Shit. This can’t be good. “I don’t think Blackwell will mix business and personal matters,” he reasoned. “There’s too much at stake. He could be persona non grata.”
She didn’t seem convinced. “My father is a first cousin to the royal prince. Here, people value the bond of brotherhood seriously. If my father complains to the royal prince, the royal prince could put pressure on Ambassador Blackwell. I don’t think the ambassador will take a chance that will strain diplomatic relations.”
Damn. The only viable option now was to smuggle her onto a charter jet or something. “I’m still going to make a call to the embassy to find out our options. And I have to call my alpha.” Arcan groped in his pocket and realized that he’d left his cell in the room. “I need to get my phone. I’ll be back. Why don’t you order some dessert in the meantime?”
Her pretty eyes widened. “May I order some ice cream?”
“Sure. I’ll be back in a sec, okay?”
She smiled.
Arcan went to his hotel room, where he found his new cell phone on the table. As he dialed the operator for the American consulate phone number, someone knocked on the door. He pushed cancel and answered it.
There were uniformed men with the hotel manager. Arcan was alarmed. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“Mr. Rarh?” the hotel manager asked. “Excuse us for bothering you at this hour, but these gentlemen have some questions to ask you.”
“Okay. What’s it all about?”
“May we come in?” one of the uniformed men stated. It wasn’t a request. It was an order, from the tone of his voice.
Arcan stared at him evenly. The Arab man stared back as if asking Arcan to challenge him. Arcan smirked. He didn’t want to give the guy the satisfaction of a pissing contest. And certainly he didn’t want to raise suspicions with the authorities.
“Go ahead,” Arcan said, stepping back to give them access. Silently, he was glad that he’d put Yazmina’s things out of sight. He’d dropped Yazmina’s dirty clothes in the laundry service, and the new clothes that he’d just bought were tucked underneath his shirts in his suitcase. Nothing in this room would betray that he had a female companion.
The two uniformed men promptly searched the suite. His bedroom. The bathroom. The closet and the enclosed balcony. When they didn’t find anything, their expressions changed. Awkward.
“Find what you’re looking for?” Arcan asked cynically.
The hotel manager quickly apologized. “I’m deeply sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Rarh, but these gentlemen are simply doing their job. They received information that someone saw you enter your room with a female companion.”
“I wasn’t aware that I couldn’t bring a girl into my room.”
“It’s not that, Mr. Rarh. The female companion aforementioned matched the description of Sheikh Al-Rahad’s missing daughter.”
“What?” Arcan pretended to be surprised. “Whose daughter?”
“Sheikh Al-Rahad.”
“Never heard of him.”
“Ah. Sheikh Al-Rahad is a very important man. He’s first cousin to the royal prince. His daughter, Yazmina Al-Rahad, has been reported missing since yesterday. At the moment, the authorities are conducting a massive search for her whereabouts.”
Crap. Arcan thought of Yazmina, who was currently enjoying ice cream in the restaurant downstairs. He hoped he could get to her before anybody else recognized her. Arcan gave the hotel manager a blank look and asked innocently, “What does she look like?”
The hotel manager conversed in Arabic with the uniformed men. One of them produced an eight-by-ten photo. Arcan craned his neck and looked. The photo showed a woman in a hijab, a head-covering shawl that hid her hair and neck, and she also wore a half niqāb—a thin veil that covered half her face so only her eyes were visible.
Arcan gave the hotel manager and the uniformed men an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? I can’t make out what she looks like with all those coverings.”
The hotel manager gave a reproachful look. He must have thought Arcan was culturally insensitive. “The sheikh’s daughter is not allowed to be displayed without a veil in the presence of the non mahram, sir.”
“Mahram?”
“Family members and unmarriageable kin.”
“Oh. I see.” Arcan folded his arms across his chest. “Well, it’s kind of hard looking for somebody if she’s dressed like that. What makes you think she’s my female companion?”
“We followed a tip,” said the uniformed man who’d asked to inspect Arcan’s room.
“Really? A tip? Well, I can tell you that my female companion wasn’t the sheikh’s daughter.”
“If we may ask, who was your female companion?”
“Alice Heatheridge. She’s an American and works in the American consulate in Dubai. We had business to discuss. You can call her if you’d like to verify it.”
“It won’t be necessary, sir,” said the hotel manager.
Arcan’s fib seemed to appease the men’s curiosity.
“Again, I apologize for this inconvenience, sir.” The hotel manager bowed his head. “If there is anything I can do for you, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“I just want to rest. It’s late,” Arcan said, feigning a yawn.
“Of course, sir.”
The hotel manager and the uniformed men exited the room.
“Have a good night,” the hotel manager said.
“Will do.” Arcan closed the door. He paced around the suite, thinking hard. It seemed it was no longer safe for him to stay in this hotel. He had to take Yazmina somewhere else. He still wanted to try the American consulate route though. If that was a dead end, then he had to ask Cyeon for that charter jet.
Arcan changed his shirt, grabbed his passport and all his cash in his suitcase then went downstairs. Yazmina was eating a banana split sundae when he breezed through the restaurant door. She smiled and waved.
“We must go,” Arcan said. He peeled some bills from the thick wad and put them on the table.
Yazmina was puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
“The hotel manager asked me about you. He had your photo. We need to go.”
She placed her spoon down and got up without a peep. Arcan herded her out of the restaurant, avoiding the hotel lobby to get out of the establishment. Once outside, he flagged a taxi. They climbed in, and Arcan slammed the door.
“The Walk,” he said to the driver. Dubai Marina was a popular venue for tourists and residents alike. On Saturdays, there was an open-air market that featured many outdoor stalls selling everything from jewelry to knick-knacks. He thought they’d have a better chance of avoiding detection mingling in the crowd in a place that wasn’t fortified with security cameras. As he leaned back in his seat, he noticed that Yazmina was tense. The fear had returned to her eyes. “Hey.” He touched her arm. “It’s going to be okay.”
Yazmina nodded nervously.
Somehow, she didn’t seem convinced.
Chapter Four
Even though it was late in the evening, Dubai Marina was still packed with people. The temperature had been lingering in the triple digits all day, and when the sun went down, many sought release from the suffocating heat outside. Arcan was told that a sandstorm had swept across the entire UAE a day prior to his arrival, caging people inside. At the first sign of a respite, many couldn’t resist the temptation of outdoor activity.
Arcan held Yazmina’s hand as they weaved leisurely among the crowd, acting as if they were tourists. They stopped once in a while to look at the stalls, admiring the wares. Arcan bought her a trinket and a pashmina shawl. Then they sat at an outdoor café. He ordered sandwiches and coffees to avoid suspicion. After the waiter left, Arcan called Jackson about the change of plan and had him collect his luggage and settle the hotel bill. Next he called Cyeon, telling him the latest situation.
Cyeon went silent on the other end after Arcan finished his report, which worried him. Alpha was usually quick wit
h a solution. This time, Cyeon seemed to be cautious. Breaking the law in another country needed careful and meticulous planning.
“At this point, I’m still not sure whether we’ll be able to charter a plane to America,” said Cyeon. “It’s peak season. I’m sure we could secure one, but it would take at least a few days to reserve and process the paperwork. I’m planning to go to Dubai with others. Jax is preparing the travel documents and such. I’ve called Cole too. He’ll take the first flight from Canberra tomorrow. He should call you as soon as he touches down in Dubai.”
“That’s good to hear.”
The waiter came with their order. Arcan thanked him.
“What about seeking political asylum in the American embassy? What’s our chance that they’ll grant her protection?”
“I’m not quite sure, as I’m not well-versed in international law,” Cyeon said. “I called a colleague of mine who’s knowledgeable in this subject, but he hasn’t returned my call. By the way, do you really know who her father is?”
Arcan’s gaze strayed to Yazmina. She was stirring some sugar into her coffee. “Some hot-shot I believe?” Arcan lowered his voice.
“Not just some hot-shot. Sheikh Ibrahim Al-Rahad owns a fleet of oil tankers transporting oil from the gulf to America. The man is a billionaire.”
Arcan almost choked when he heard that. No shit. If the old man swam in money, how did he have the heart to trade his only daughter for a horse?
That bastard didn’t deserve to be a parent.
The bastard didn’t deserve Yazmina.
Full-blown anger rushed into him. “Well, ain’t that great? A mover and shaker like him is a pain in the ass.”
“My instinct tells me that you two should stay away from the American embassy as well. At least until I get a report back from my intel.”
“What about the South African embassy?” Arcan asked.
Cyeon paused. “You know what, that didn’t occur to me until you mentioned it. I know some people that could actually help. Didn’t she want to go to America though?”
“Maybe we should just prioritize getting her out of the country. This place makes me paranoid.”
“Understood. Jax has a friend in Dubai. I think it would be best if you stay at his place instead of a hotel. Can you hold up for a few more hours? I’ll have Jax’s friend contact you.”
“That’d be great.”
“Hang in there, cuz.”
Arcan disconnected and pocketed his phone.
Yazmina looked at him expectantly.
“Alpha doesn’t think the US embassy is a good choice for you right now, considering your father’s connections.”
Her shoulders sagged.
“What about the South African embassy?” he asked.
“Why South Africa?”
“I have dual citizenship.”
Her eyes brightened. “Does this mean I’ve got to go with you?”
“Why… you don’t want to?”
“No, you’re mistaken. I’d love to!”
“Would you?” Arcan teased. “You’re a pretty gullible young woman. I’m a stranger. I might take advantage of you.”
“I don’t mind. I owe you a debt for my life. I’ll do anything for you.”
The beast inside him roared to life after hearing that innocent declaration. Arcan leaned on the table. Closer to her. He basked in her alluring scent—a scent that drove him crazy. “Don’t say that kind of thing so lightly. I might get greedy.”
Yazmina didn’t waver when he turned serious. “I have never promised anything I couldn’t deliver. My father taught us that well ever since we were little. I’m forever in your debt, and until I could return an equal deed to you, I could never repay you enough.”
She surprised him. Arcan didn’t expect to see this kind of quality in her. He thought she was a weak, sheltered princess who knew nothing of the outside world, and was perhaps too reliant on others for the protection she thought she was entitled to. Yazmina had proved him wrong. She might be physically weak, but she had a strong sense of pride.
Arcan admired that kind of quality in a person. “What if I knew of a way for you to repay me?”
“You do?”
Arcan nodded. “Be my woman.”
“Oh.”
“Well?” he pressed.
She blushed prettily and avoided his demanding stare. “Am I good enough for you?”
“What do you mean? Of course you are. Look at me, Yazmina.”
She shyly met his eyes.
“What do you say?”
Yazmina went back to staring at her shoes. “Yes,” she whispered. She had a dimple on her cheek when she smiled.
For a second, Arcan almost gave in to his beast’s nature. If they were in his motherland on the Serengeti savannah, he’d already have kissed her and claimed her as his.
His cellphone rang, startling him from his fantasy. He answered it. “Yes?”
“Arcan Rarh?”
“Speaking,” he said.
“Hi, I’m Dean Bennet, Jax’s friend from Princeton. He said that you need a safe house for a few days?”
“That is correct.”
“I have a property in downtown Burj. Burj Khalifa. Will that work for you?”
“Yeah. I think I know the area.”
“Great. You can use the place immediately. Jax has settled everything so you can stay there tonight. Do you have paper and pen handy? I’ll give you the address.”
Arcan borrowed a pen from a passing waiter and wrote down the address on a napkin. The safe-house was equipped with a high-end security system with remote monitoring. Arcan didn’t need keys to enter the property; Dean gave him a password to enter, and Arcan was good to go.
Arcan thanked Dean and disconnected. “We should go,” he said to Yazmina.
“All right.”
He paid cash for their barely touched food and they left.
They went back to mingling with the masses to make their way to the exit. The crowd was even more packed than before. Arcan had to snatch Yazmina’s hand so they wouldn’t get separated.
He felt uneasy.
As a beast and a man, his primal instinct was better honed than an average human’s. As a predator back in his native land in the Serengeti, he could sense when another predator had entered the vicinity.
He heightened his guard.
Yazmina suddenly yelped.
Arcan turned around. Two men pulled her arm and spoke harshly in Arabic, making an unavoidable commotion.
“Arcan!” Yazmina shouted at him.
His battle instinct kicked in at once. He launched himself at them and neutralized the targets with knockout punches. The men went down in an instant.
Arcan seized Yazmina’s hand and pulled her towards the exit to escape the scene before anyone around them fully realized what had happened.
As they ran to an indoor mall, her heart pounded so hard she thought she was going to pass out. Yazmina hadn’t anticipated that Abdullah—her father’s henchman—would catch her here. The shock alone was enough to freeze her in her tracks, terrifying her more than when she saw Arcan in his lion form.
Then, dread filled her. If her father caught her, it would be the end of her freedom. Her fate would be sealed. Her knees weakened at the very thought of it. A loveless marriage to a man older than her own father awaited her. The lonely life she’d left behind would be replaced with complete isolation.
She’d been deprived of freedom all her life. A little taste of it made her addicted. Freedom was precious, the one thing that made her feel alive. She’d made a decision for herself, not for her father.
If Abdullah caught her, she wouldn’t be able to see Arcan again.
That tiny speck of realization jarred her more than she’d anticipated.
Arcan still didn’t let go of her hand, but they were walking normally, like a pair of tourists enjoying the nightlife in Dubai.
As much as they tried to look normal, they still attracted atte
ntion. Mostly Arcan. Women were stunned by his good looks, and men stole glances at him with envy. The first thing people noticed was his tall stature and his splendid physique. Then his shoulder-length blond hair, which shone like sunlight.
He was like the sun to her.
When she was trapped in the depths of her despair, Arcan was the one who reached in for her and promised her safety. His kindness touched her deeply, kindling a ray of hope in her heart. Everything would be all right. She could get through this. Freedom wasn’t an unattainable dream.
But if he was out of her life, she wasn’t sure she could keep that hope alight.
Unconsciously, she gripped Arcan’s hand tighter.
The man looked alarmed. “Yes?”
“N-nothing,” Yazmina flustered. “I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”
She hoped so. She wanted to believe that everything would be all right. As she chanted silently that the situation would turn out as he promised, she noticed that Arcan had slipped into his cautious mood again.
Yazmina had seen it a couple of times since fate brought them together, once when Arcan returned from retrieving his phone in the room. At these times, he emanated the aura of a predator ready to take down his prey.
And he did it again now.
The nagging uneasiness within her returned. Had they been followed? That must be it. Otherwise, Arcan wouldn’t be so restless. At one point, Yazmina could swear his arm sprouted coarse fur and his fingernails elongated into claws.
“Arcan…” Yazmina wanted to tell him he was slipping into his beast form.
He didn’t respond. His expression was dead serious, his posture as tense as a bowstring ready to snap. “Let’s go.”
Yazmina tried to match his long strides as they walked. A cursory glance confirmed her fears. More men followed them. If they were being inconspicuous before, now they abandoned their pretense.
She bit her lip. No, no, please don’t let them catch me. She chanted in silent prayer upon prayer until tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill.
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