Captive of the Desert King Read online

Page 17


  “We will. Anna doesn’t like anyone knowing, but she is addicted to blackjack.”

  Sarah laughed, then turned to her guard, who had never been more than a few steps away. “I think Bash would be proud of you, Ivan.” She rose up on her toes and gave the young man a kiss. “One of these days you’ll have to tell me how you managed sleep while you were protecting me.”

  “When I let Nashemia drug me.” He shook his head in disgust. “I got plenty of sleep.”

  “But you’ve learned,” she teased, then sobered a little. “And so have I, I think.” She gave him a quick hug. “I am counting on you to protect your king. And your prince. And yourself. Got me?”

  “Yes, mistress.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss on both cheeks. “If you ever decided to come back, I will protect you, too. I promise.”

  “I’d like that.” She stepped away from Ivan and walked to Booker. “So you’re staying behind?”

  “Yep, I decided I needed a vacation,” Booker quipped. “Cain approved it just about the time I was saving him from a knife in the gut.”

  “I think I owe you an apology, Booker.”

  “Why? Because for a while there, you thought I was a bad guy?”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling.

  “Don’t fool yourself, I am sometimes,” he answered, but his grin was just a little too sharp with the truth. “But it’s what I do best.”

  “Thank you for saving my life.” Sarah glanced around at the men surrounding her. “All of you.”

  The men shifted their bodies just enough to tell her they were uncomfortable with the attention.

  “It’s what we do.” Ian shrugged, breaking the moment.

  “Sarah?” Rashid whispered. “Are you going to say goodbye to me, too?”

  She squatted in front of the young boy. “I saved our goodbye for last because I have something very special for you.” Slowly, she unclasped the chain from her neck. “I want you to keep my jade necklace for good luck.”

  “Really?” Rashid had given her necklace back the night before, when they’d snuggled together in her bed. The last time, he promised, he’d use the laundry vent.

  Sarah smiled at the memory and placed the stone in his palm. Then she covered it with her own.

  “Really,” she promised, her throat dry, her words hoarse from unshed tears.

  Then he hugged her tight. “I love you, Sarah.”

  Sarah grabbed him close, knowing the tears she tried to check were trickling down her cheeks. “I love you, too, sport.”

  She pulled back and brushed a small cowlick from his forehead. Gently, she placed a kiss there. “Anytime…” She fought the emotion back, worked the words past the spasm in her throat. “Anytime you need me. Okay?” she whispered, unable to keep the thread of despair from weaving through her goodbye.

  “Yes,” Rashid agreed. With a grin, he glanced up at his uncle Quamar. “Soon.”

  JAREK PLACED his arm against the side of the office window sill and leaned forward. From his position, he watched Sarah say her goodbyes, quietly drinking in her features from a distance.

  She wore stone-gray, wide-legged trousers, with a sheer lace wraparound blouse that tied at the waist, accenting her slim hips, the graceful line of her arms and back.

  Her hair was down, hanging in a long, black sheet of silk over one shoulder.

  The hug between her and Rashid hit him in the gut. He fisted his hands to keep himself from going outside.

  “They are leaving, Your Majesty,” Trizal said quietly from behind him.

  “Is everything ready?”

  “Yes, Prince Rashid and Master Quamar said they would wait for you down at the helicopter pad.”

  Jarek nodded.

  “Miss Kwong left this for you, Your Majesty.” Trizal walked over and handed Sarah’s recorder to Jarek.

  “Thank you, Trizal.” Jarek gripped the device in his hand. “I’ll be ready in a moment.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  After the door closed, Jarek pushed the play button. Nashemia’s voice filtered through the room.

  A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Sarah had recorded the conversation at the drilling site.

  Without hesitation, he hit the delete button on the recorder. No matter the outcome, the nightmares of Saree’s betrayal were finally gone.

  Sarah had taken care of that.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jarek ordered his airplanes and helicopters grounded. The drive to Morocco was going to be a long one.

  But Quamar had insisted Jarek’s soldiers had cleared all the rebels from the hills. Leaving the road safe to travel.

  In all honesty, Sarah hadn’t minded the idea of the drive. She’d grown to love the desert and wanted to see just a little more before she left for good.

  “You all right?” Ian asked the question. He sat next to her in the backseat, while Cain drove and Jordan rode up front in the passenger seat.

  “Yes. Thank you all again.”

  Ian took her hand in his and squeezed. “You know that Lara and I consider you family, right?”

  “Yes,” she said, swallowing against the unbending muscles in her throat.

  “And family is always honest with each other.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I have to tell you something.”

  “What?”

  Ian sighed, a hint of sympathy in his blue eyes. “You’re being stupid.”

  Sarah stiffened, then tugged her hand away.

  “I have to agree with Ian, Sarah,” Jordan inserted from the front seat. “It’s obvious you love Jarek and Rashid. Why not fight for them?”

  “I have my reasons.” She looked out the window, watched the land speed by in a flat blur of beiges and browns.

  “What reasons?”

  “Are you talking about how Saree betrayed Jarek five years ago?” Ian asked.

  She looked at the men one at a time. “You know. All of you know?”

  “Booker told us in his debriefing that Nashemia took pleasure at filling you in,” Cain admitted, his eyes on her through the rear view mirror.

  “Please don’t tell anyone.” Fear tripped, then slid through her. “It would shatter Jarek and Rashid.”

  Ian hugged her to his side. “Relax, honey. We were there when it happened. We’re certainly not going to start telling tales now.”

  “You were there?” She studied the men in disbelief. “All of you were there?”

  They nodded in unison.

  “Quamar managed to escape with Anna and Rashid, but before they did, he sent word to us through Sandra Haddad. We flew out to Taer immediately.”

  “Does President Mercer know?”

  “Yes, he knows.”

  Anger started flickering through her limbs, then surged up her spine. “He knew before he sent me out to meet with Jarek?”

  Cain sighed. “Yes, he’s known for five years.”

  “Was this some kind of test?” Sarah demanded. “To see how ethical I could be? Did he think I wouldn’t uncover the big secret in Jarek’s past?”

  “We all knew you would uncover it,” Cain reasoned. “Most reporters worth their salt would, after spending time with Jarek and Rashid. Jon Mercer was just betting that you wouldn’t use it as a stepping-stone in your career, like most might.”

  “You were protecting Jarek,” Sarah realized.

  “No, we were banking on the fact you would,” Cain explained. “Just like you protected Lara after the biochemical scare a few years ago.”

  “He’s family,” Ian added.

  “I’ll be damned.” Jordan laughed and nodded toward the front of the car. “It looks like your family just expanded.”

  Cain swore and hit the brakes, then slammed the gears into park. “I think Jarek has a problem with your leaving, Sarah.”

  “No he doesn’t, he didn’t even say goodbye—” She stopped when the men opened their car doors. “What are you talking about?”

  “See for yourself.”


  Sarah unbuckled, opened the door and stepped out.

  A hundred men lined the desert, blocking their route with a huge semi circle. All on camels or horses. All carrying swords, drawn and raised.

  In the middle was Jarek on Taaj. On his right, sat Rashid. His left, Bari and Quamar.

  “Oh, my God,” Sarah murmured. “What is he doing?”

  Jarek raised his hand and in one movement the soldiers moved forward on their animals.

  Ian hugged her to his side. “I think that’s his way of saying he loves you.”

  “Sarah! Sarah!” Rashid waved to her from the back of Ping’s back. “Guess what? We’re kidnapping you.”

  “You’re what?” She squeaked the question.

  “We’re taking you captive, like Grandpa Bari did in the old days.”

  “Not so old, young man,” Bari exclaimed, indignant.

  “Who are all of those men?” Sarah whispered.

  Cain grunted. “More than half are the palace guards, the rest are Bari’s people.”

  “Still won’t make up for the fact he arrested her,” Jordan mused. “Poor bastard.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Ian murmured, sharing a deep pity for what Jarek was about to go through. After all, they had all been in Jarek’s shoes at one point over the past few years. “This is going to be one hell of an apology.”

  Slowly, Jarek nudged Taaj forward. His scarf hung loose against one shoulder.

  He stopped less than ten feet away. His coal-black eyes eagle-sharp and intense. “So are you going to come peacefully, or am I going to have to use force?”

  Not able to stop herself, she took a step back. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Well, now there’s a question.” Jarek leaned one forearm over the pummel of his saddle. “One I’ve asked myself for the past five years,” Jarek admitted.

  “The few days I spent in that cell being tortured, I came about as close to insanity I imagine as any man could. But I made it through with the help of friends…” he nodded toward the men behind her “…and family.” He tilted his back toward Bari, Quamar and his son. “I came out with scars, but I came out sane.”

  “Jarek.” She closed her eyes, hoping she was just having a bad dream. “You can’t kidnap me. It’s just not done.”

  “Kidnapping is a harsh word. Let’s just say I’m taking you somewhere quiet, somewhere the two of us can have a private conversation.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “Then we have that same conversation right here.” With a wave of his hand, one of his soldiers came forward with a video camera. He pointed it at Jarek.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you an exclusive interview in which I will answer any question you have for me. Honestly. Without evasion.”

  “I’m done asking questions.” Sarah frowned. “And you can’t force me to do an interview.”

  “Not just any interview,” Jarek countered, with more than a little arrogance. “I have no doubt after all the reporters I’ve denied, your interview will shoot you to the top in your field.”

  “Is that why you’re doing this? You still believe this has been about my job?” That hurt more than anything.

  “No. I’m fulfilling an obligation to you and Jon Mercer,” Jarek argued. “If you do not conduct the interview, someone else will eventually. If I must do this, than I would rather do it with you. Someone I trust with my son’s and my own life. This interview will affect Rashid just as much as me. But I realized keeping everything from him made him vulnerable. And it almost cost his life and yours.”

  “I gave you the recorder, so you must realize I have no intention of writing that story.” Longing tugged at her belly, on its heels, a self-deprecating fury. “You went through all this trouble for nothing.”

  “I don’t quite think you understand, sweetheart. I’m trying to clear up any misunderstandings or unfinished business before I ask you to marry me.”

  This time it was Sarah’s turn to be surprised. “You said yourself, it’s…us…,” she stammered. “You and me…is impossible.”

  Jarek glanced at Ian. “She’s cute when she stutters, isn’t she?”

  Ian laughed. “Flattery is not going to help her forget you arrested her, Jarek.”

  Jarek glared at his friend. “Shut up, Ian.”

  “This is impossible.” Sarah shoved a hand through her hair in frustration.

  “Not impossible. Just complicated.” Jarek used her own words against her. “If the heir to the throne in England can marry a divorced woman, I certainly can marry an American. Times are changing for my country. And I have Bari and Quamar’s support. They are respected, royal family members.”

  “You have to have more than acceptance to make a marriage work.”

  Jarek frowned when his three friends behind her nodded their agreement.

  “She’s right, Jarek.”

  “Stay out of it, Ian.”

  “I don’t think I can,” Ian said, his tone amiable, his stance anything but. “Since Sarah has no family present, we’re prepared to play that role.” He nodded at the men on either side of him.

  Sarah looked back to see Ian, Cain and Jordan step up behind her, all three of them with their arms folded. All three faces set into hard lines.

  She groaned. “This is not real. This can’t be happening.” She swung back to Jarek. “Let me go home. Please. I don’t want to interview you. I don’t want to marry you.”

  “Fair enough. You won’t have to ask one question.” He glared at the three men behind her, daring them to say something. “After, you can leave.”

  “Promise her, Papa!”

  Jordan snorted with laughter. Cain coughed.

  “I promise, Sarah,” Jarek said, his tone dipping into that husky timber that set her heart racing. “All my life I was groomed to be king. I never took a step without once considering how it would affect the people of my country first, then my family and lastly myself. Then I met you in New York. I didn’t know what hit me. But before I could figure it out Hassan uncovered information about your job.”

  “He set you both up, Sarah,” Quamar interrupted. “Hassan had already made arrangements for Jarek to meet Saree in college. You got in the way.”

  “I went after Saree with a vengeance,” Jarek continued. “Partly because I was rebounding from our affair. And partly, I think, because she was different from you. Colder and maybe, because of that, safer. At the time I had no idea she had planned the whole relationship. Quamar found out recently, that Hassan had paid for Saree’s education at Oxford just so she could meet me.”

  “She loved you?”

  “No, she loved money. And the power. She just didn’t like to share it.”

  “Like Nashemia.”

  “Worse,” Jarek explained. “Marrying Saree was one decision I made for myself without taking anyone or anything else into account. The one thing I based on pure emotion.”

  “Love.”

  “No. What I felt for Saree was never that deep or that pure. I understand that now,” Jarek answered. “I also understand a few other things.”

  “What, for instance?”

  “After the rebellion.” Jarek paused, then corrected himself. “After her death, I vowed never to make a decision without taking my country into consideration.”

  “What happened was certainly tragic, Jarek. But it was not your fault. You were left no choice,” Sarah reasoned. “Nashemia told me and Rashid the story.”

  “Rashid and I had a long talk this morning about it. I think with time and love, he will grow to understand,” Jarek added. “He also confessed to his penchant for using the laundry vents to eavesdrop.” Jarek shook his head. “He told me he promised you he would not sneak around anymore. Is that true?”

  “Yes, but he promised under duress while we were on the train. And at the time, he’d just found out about Saree.”

  “Did Nashemia tell you Saree killed my parents?”

  “No.” The very
thought made Sarah sick to her stomach.

  “Saree arranged for their accident after she found out she was pregnant with a son. She used me and would have used Rashid. Maybe eventually even harmed him, too.”

  “And now?” she asked, her tone flat. “Asking me to marry you isn’t taking your country into consideration, Jarek. I’m a reporter.”

  “Yes, but I know your heart isn’t in it anymore. It isn’t who you are,” Jarek insisted when she shook her head in disbelief. “You should consider changing occupations. Taer needs a queen.”

  “And what do you need?”

  “To be loved.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “All right. I understand.” He swung down from Taaj and took the camera from his soldier. “Here. It is yours.”

  Sarah stared at the camera he held out to her. She had everything she ever worked for. The big scoop. The big secret exposed.

  And still, she had nothing. Just a cold hard lump of nothing in the pit of her stomach.

  “The drilling site is less than an hour away. I have a plane waiting there for all of you. It will take you wherever you want to go.” Once again he offered the video camera.

  This time Sarah took the camera from his outstretched hand and then turned away.

  “For most of my life, I’ve kept to myself. How I felt, what I thought,” Jarek yelled after her, his voice hoarse with desperation. “Now with my family standing behind me, and three of my closest friends standing in front of me, I need you to listen one last time to me, Sarah.”

  She stopped, unable to take another step. A sob welled up in her chest but she refused to let it free.

  “And I’m going to say this in front of all of them. I love you, Sarah Kwong. And I haven’t said that to anyone, except my son, in a very long time. And I will not say it to another woman as long as I live. I walked away from us eight years ago in New York because I was afraid. You’re more courageous than anyone I’ve ever known, Sarah. Don’t leave us.”

  She did not turn around, couldn’t. She was scarcely able to breath through the band of fear that constricted her chest. Instead, she studied the horizon, saw the orange hues of the sunset.