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The Sheiks of the Arabian Coast Series: 5 Book Box Set

Page 34

by Erin Snihur


  “I want to sell these pieces,” Amira murmured softly, still aware of the grey-eyed man at her back, who seemed to be eavesdropping on their conversation while he perused a set of rings.

  The jeweller seemed to grimace as he picked up the largest of the diamonds and looked through his magnifying glass hesitantly, as though her jewels would bite him. With a sigh, the older man pulled away without looking at any others.

  “Do you have any form of authentication to prove ownership?” The older man declared loudly, gaining the attention of the grey-eyed man.

  Biting her lip, Amira shook her head, her mind racing, “No. They fell out of a few necklaces that belonged to my mother and, when she died, I kept these pieces.”

  The man scoffs. “This business is not some American version of a pawn shop. We cater to the elite and royalty of the Arabian Coast. Not street rats. I should call the police for this. These might be stolen goods!”

  Amira watched as the man motioned to his own security guards who stepped forward, closing in on her. “Hold her while I call the police. I’m sure they would love to deal with this thief themselves.”

  Struggling when the men put their hands on her forearms, Amira gasped in fright and began begging, “No! Please, they are my pieces! They were gifts, I swear!”

  As the old man began dialling the phone, a cool voice broke out through the sounds of her sobbing.

  “Release her,” the grey eyed man, Tariq, said, stunning the old jeweller.

  “Your Majesty, I do apologize! I had no idea you had arrived so early. Please pay this street urchin no mind. Let me escort you to the private room we have set up for you in the back,” the old man rambled, phone call forgotten, as he raced around the counter and bowed before the grey-eyed man.

  His Majesty? Amira thought and instantly froze when she stared at the grey-eyed man again. He did look familiar. But she couldn’t place him. Perhaps one of the lesser known Arabian countries or tribes?

  Ignoring the jeweller, Tariq smiled cooly as he brushed past the old man and his eyes warmed when they landed on Amira. “Like I said, let her go.”

  His cool eyes narrowed on the two men holding Amira in place. His own two security guards shifted closer and the ones holding Amira shifted back, their hands raised in a show of peace as they released her.

  Smiling cooly, the grey eyed man, Tariq, stared down at her. “I’ll be happy to buy those jewels from you. Everything here I find is so…passe.”

  Sputtering, the old man protested, “My lord, please, your father and all of the royals along the Arabian Coasts use our services to commission their best jewelry. I assure you that nothing is more than a season old.”

  Continuing to ignore him, Tariq smiled at Amira and sent her a quick wink, “Would you like to show me the jewels over dinner?”

  In shock, Amira found herself shaking her head and bowing slightly with all the grace she could muster, much to Tariq’s obvious surprise. “No, my lord, I couldn’t possibly take your charity.”

  “Don’t think of it like that. Besides, not only are you selling me beautiful jewels, you’ll be helping me annoy my father even more. I’ve been looking for an opportunity to do so since he had me sent on this foolish jewelry errand,” Tariq muttered and held out his arm. “I insist.”

  Hesitating, Amira placed her hand in the crook of his arm and shyly smiled at the grey-eyed man. As he escorted her to his waiting car with his two bodyguards trailing behind them, Amira felt a twinge of deja vu. Was she always going to attract royals?

  Sitting in the car, Amira tried to control her fidgeting fingers and found herself playing with her necklace chain and ring. It made her feel better to see the ring. If only to remind her of the towering man who had given it to her.

  Once Tariq was seated in the car, they drove off and were headed in the direction of a higher end portion of the capital. Close to the walled palace. Stomach rolling in the awkward silence, Amira bit her lip and then blurted out, “Are you a Sheik?”

  What were the chances that she’d stumbled upon another Sheik after just escaping another one this morning?

  Snorting, Tariq gave her a sideways glance as he leaned back in the leather seats and teasingly answered, “No, thankfully. My father is.”

  Mouth opened wide, Amira snapped it shut in shock. Not a Sheik, but a Crown Prince. Not good.

  “You don’t have to take me to dinner, I can just give you the jewels now,” Amira said as she eyed out the windows for something familiar. They were getting closer to the palace. Why was he taking us to the palace?

  Doors locked all round them as if automatically and Tariq’s eyes squinted lightly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why don’t you tell me where you got that.”

  He pointed to her necklace and fidgeting fingers. Freezing, Amira stared down at the necklace before staring into Tariq’s grey eyes. Heart thudding, Amira sat straighter in her chair, inching closer to the car door.

  “I want to get out now.”

  “Don’t worry,” Tariq muttered as he pulled his cellphone out of his pockets. “We’ll be getting out very shortly.”

  Ignoring her now, Tariq turned toward his window as he pulled his phone to his ear. Amira didn’t even hear the rest of his conversation. Her ears felt as though they were burning as she realized exactly where they were headed.

  The palace gated entrance opened quickly for Tariq, without even a security check. Before she knew it, Amira watched as the palace loomed closer and closer.

  “Welcome home, Sheikha,” Tariq finally muttered, cell phone forgotten.

  11

  “Lose something?” Tariq’s teasing voice filtered through Kasin’s speaker on his phone as he paced in his private jet. Rolling his eyes at his friend’s words, Kasin growled out a curse before answering.

  “Where is she?”

  “On her way to the palace in the capital, as we speak. Don’t worry. I’ll keep her here until you arrive,” Tariq muttered, as though he was trying to keep his words muffled on purpose.

  Without waiting for Kasin’s confirmation, Tariq hung up and Kasin yelled through the open door to their pilot to set a course for the capital. Continuing his pacing of the lounge area, Kasin muttered under his breath a string of curses until Abel’s smirking face forced him to stop.

  “Something to say?” Kasin grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. His throat ached for a strong drink. Something to pass the time and stop his chest from aching at the thought of Amira and if she was indeed safe.

  There was no liquor available on the flight. Abel claimed the flight crew didn’t have enough time to prep for his usual drinking binge. Kasin could use a drink. Now that Tariq had found Amira, who knows what he knew. He had probably already told the others. Just perfect. He didn’t like his business being on the tip of everyone's tongue and, if word reached the media, there would be chaos.

  And all because you couldn’t tell Amira the truth, a voice inwardly hissed at him.

  Abel shook his head as his smirk slowly retreated, “I find it interesting that for someone who wishes to escape a Sheik, your wife has a habit of attracting them.”

  Growling and cursing under his breath, Kasin clenched his fists, “Tariq better keep his hands to himself.”

  As teenagers, Tariq had always been the most prolific ladies man of their circle. Now he was alone with Kasin’s own wife. Collapsing into the leather couch that ran along the plane wall, Kasin sighed. The lack of liquor in his system weighing him down.

  “I have to tell her the truth, don’t I?” Kasin mumbled, “Even if it means losing her?”

  At Abel’s nod, Kasin sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes.

  Opening them, Kasin sat up straighter as he stared across the aisle at his friend, “I don’t think I could bear it if Amira leaves me as well.”

  Abel shakes his head. “Your family did not leave you, Kasin. They were taken from you. In a brutal way. But you cannot allow their deaths to stop you f
rom having a true marriage with Amira. If you set aside your demons, you’ll find happiness is possible.”

  Nodding, Kasin blinked away the sting in his eyes. Usually when he was reminded of his family, he drank to keep his emotions at bay. This time, he felt them rising like the tide, unstoppable.

  “What can I do?” Kasin asked, knowing there might not be an answer he agreed with.

  “I have an idea that might make your appearance at the capital easier for Amira to handle,” Abel murmurs.

  As he listens to Abel’s plan, Kasin’s mind begins to turn and he nods in agreement, “Do it.”

  Amira paced nervously in the ornate sitting room and breathed in and out slowly as the scent of flowers off the adjacent gardens filled the room. Fiddling with her ring around her neck, Amira cast a nervous glance once more at the solemn guard who stood at the sitting room’s entrance. He had been ordered to guard her while Tariq went somewhere in the palace to do who knows what.

  Finally, after waiting for an hour, a tray and cart were brought in with some sweets, tea and a bottle of champagne and two flutes. Staring at the display, Amira blushed when Tariq swept into the room and winked at her.

  “Sorry for the wait. I just had to confirm something,” Tariq muttered and began opening the champagne bottle.

  “I believe a celebration is in order,” Tariq mused as he popped the cork with much enthusiasm. Watching him fill two flutes of champagne, Amira merely stared at the offered glass as he held it out for her to take.

  “I can’t accept this,” Amira whispered softly.

  Groaning, Tariq rolled his eyes. “Please don’t tell me Kasin has married someone under the legal drinking age.”

  Blushing bright red, Amira grasped the flute and set it back down on the tray by the sweets. While her stomach protested, Amira ignored it and instead focused on Tariq.

  “I am not married,” she muttered, in the hopes that Tariq would think he had the wrong woman.

  With a point of his finger as he downed his own glass of champagne and then reached over to take hers as well, Tariq grinned at her, “No need to keep up the act, Sheikha. I know Kasin. The only reason he would have given another woman that ring is if it was in marriage.”

  “It was a gift,” Amira whispered in protest, but he heard her anyway and smirked.

  “A gift? You mean right after Kasin said ‘I do’? Yes, that does happen sometimes,” Tariq chuckled. “Wait until I tell the others.”

  Straightening, Amira shook her head in protest. “No! Don’t tell anyone anything. It won’t matter. I’m leaving.”

  As Amira moved to stand, Tariq straightened and forced her to freeze. “I don’t think so. I told lover boy that I’d keep you here until he arrived. You can’t leave until he gives the all clear.”

  Collapsing back into the chair, Tariq motioned to her own chair. “Sit, please. Kasin will be home soon and, besides, I want to know about the woman that got the hermit Sheik to commit.”

  Snorting in derision, Amira pulled her hijab off her head, revealing her snow white hair. Brushing it out with her fingers, Amira met Tariq’s gaze and grew uncomfortable when his eyes squinted.

  “How long have you known Kasin,” Tariq queried.

  When Amira ignores his question and instead stared at the chain and ring in her hands, Tariq sighs and shifts in his seat.

  “I would venture a guess you’ve known him for a long time,” Tariq murmured softly before continuing, “I would also venture a guess to say, you are part of the reason he began acting so strangely after his family’s passing.”

  Stiffening in her seat, Amira eyed Tariq through the corner of her eye before turning her face away and lifting her nose at the thought. “His family was massacred and, besides, Kasin can do as he pleases. Why should I care how he acts?”

  Amusement fills Tariq’s voice as he laughs, “You are a treat. I’m almost disappointed Kasin got to you first, little bird. I’m not one to betray my friend’s trust, though.”

  Snorting, Amira let the words loose before she could stop to think them over, “I doubt Kasin would give you the same courtesy.”

  Seeming shocked by her omission, Tariq sets his now empty glass aside and leans forward. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he? Physically, I mean?”

  Amira’s mind raced over the span of a few days. Kasin had touched her intimately and kissed her more passionately than she’d ever known. Did any of it hurt? Even the way he slapped her bottom when he’d found her in the village had burned all the way to her core.

  Seeing her blush, Tariq chuckled, “I thought so. Damn. Amoz owes me twenty dollars. He was so sure Kasin had found his latest love in the bottle.”

  Squirming in her seat nervously, Amira asked cautiously, “What about the women in the magazines? It seems Kasin is a bit of a ladies man.”

  Tariq’s voice booms with laughter around the room, startling the man at the door who secretly guards them. Plucking a sweet tart from the tray before them, Tariq winks at her.

  “It’s amazing what people will do and how they will act when given the right incentives, isn’t it?” Tariq murmurs mysteriously.

  Before she can ask any more questions, a tinkle of a bell sounds from the front parlour and a maid appears, bowing slightly to Tariq.

  “Their Majesties, Sheik Khalid Majeed, his wife, Sheikha Amelia Majeed, Sheik Malik Al-Mokhtar, his wife, Sheikha Samara Al-Mokhtar and Sheik Amoz el-Safar, his wife, Sheikha Teresa el-Safar have just arrived, your Highness, along with…” before the maid could continue, a baby’s cry rang out over the peaceful room.

  Amira stared in nervous shock as Tariq clapped his hands together and rubbed them before turning his humorous twinkling eyes on her, “Sounds like the cavalry have arrived. Better be prepared to answer a lot of questions, Sheikha.”

  With another wink, Tariq stood to his feet. As she followed him in standing and Tariq’s happy voice bade welcome to three of the most handsome men, next to Kasin of course, that she had ever seen. All three men’s heads were bent together as they entered the sitting room and their unique eyes scanned the room before one of them turned and motioned with a hand for the rest to enter. Behind the towering men, entered three beautifully unique women. The first woman to enter reminded Amira of herself. The woman’s hair was a bit darker than Amira’s snow white hair, but nonetheless blonde. She greeted Tariq with a peck on the cheek as she slid her arm into the imposing man at her side with sparkling green eyes.

  The room was filled with noise and chatter. No one seemed to have noticed Amira yet and when she shifted in her spot, the woman with the darker complexion and pools of brown eyes, focused on her, her smile dropping a bit before being forced back into place.

  “Hello there,” the woman said softly as she approached Amira, drawing every eye in the room.

  “I’m Samara Al-Mokhtar,” with her hand outstretched to Amira, the woman’s eyes twinkled as she looked over her shoulder at Tariq. “How rude of you, Tariq, for not introducing us to your lady friend. We’ve been nattering on for a good five minutes.”

  A man shifted to stand at her back and Amira was startled when the man’s icy blue eyes squinted back at her. When the woman sensed the man’s presence, she waved a hand at him, “This is my overbearing husband, Malik. Do not be intimidated by him. He’s all bark and no bite.”

  “Not from what I heard when you were visiting The Royal resort in Elish,” Tariq’s sing song voice breaks over the group and laughter is heard from everyone as Samara blushes and smacks her husband on the chest.

  “I can’t believe you let me walk around in public with those marks on display like that, Malik,” Samara scolded before turning her teasing eyes back on Amira, hand outstretched and waiting. “I swear he has the worst manners, whatsoever, for a Sheik.”

  As her husband crooned out an apology, Amira clasped the woman's waiting hand in a soft shake. Before she could give her name, a baby's wail broke out from the entryway and a young girl in a hijab entered quickly attempting to
soothe the little bundle. She bowed slightly as she held the wailing bundle and marched toward the final couple who had remained silent in their observation of Amira.

  “I am so sorry, your Majesties,” the maid murmured. “The little Prince will not be soothed.”

  The woman with reddish brown hair and soft, curved build smiled down at the bundle as she reached out to take him. “Do not fret. He is stubborn, like his father.”

  Laughter rang out throughout the room, mostly the men ribbing at the father of the baby. The man took the whole joking good naturallyjeweller as his pale brown eyes kept glancing to his wife and baby son, who was slowly settling.

  “I have to be stubborn when it comes to you, ya helo,” the man crooned back with a wink.

  As the laughter died down and the babe settled with soft coos, all eyes seemed to turn back to Amira. Shifting from one foot to the other, Amira forced a smile on her face. She had never felt so scrutinized in a room full of well dressed, beautiful people more than just now. In her jeans and messy hair from wearing the hijab, she must look exactly like the jeweller called her. A street rat.

  The woman with the dirty blonde hair seemed to sense Amira’s discomfort at the situation and drew everyone’s attention away for a moment. She turned her eyes on Tariq, who was grinning at his cellphone like a fool and asked teasingly, “Tariq, aren’t you going to introduce us to your fiancé?”

  Snorting under his breath, Tariq put away the phone and strode to Amira’s side. Placing his arm around Amira’s shoulder and drawing her into a tight squeeze against this chest, Tariq sighed. Amira tried to protest, but Tariq’s words halted her.

  “Thank you, Amelia. You and Khalid are such an inspiration to me. I just can’t hold it in any longer,” Tariq said with the saddest imitation of grief and, across the room, eyebrows rose and the women stared with open mouths in shock and confusion at his words, “I can’t allow this love to be a secret any further.”

 

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