Thoughts collided in Sasha’s head. Traded. Entertain businessmen. Sheikh…
No. More. Russia.
For six months, she’d been trying to figure out how to get out of the country. Her father’s political power made it impossible to obtain a visa, to even skirt the borders without getting caught. Unwittingly, Alexei was providing that impossible escape.
She held Alexei’s troubled gaze. “I’m to be a whore. A possession and a slave.”
Swallowing again, Alexei answered with a curt nod. “It was why I came to your cousin’s club. You were chosen”—his gaze flicked over
her exposed body, and desire flashed hot before his eyes filled with remorse once again—“before what happened between us.”
“Chosen by whom?” Indignation colored her voice.
“I can’t say. It’s larger than both of us.”
Not the
Bratva
then. Sasha frowned. Common sense said she should be outraged. Furious with this man who’d taken her to his bed, fucked her until she was nearly delirious, and then betrayed her. But the part of her that had lived so long with guilt, the part that couldn’t forget the deaths she’d caused, whispered that this was fitting punishment.
She had no right to lead a carefree life. Though she’d never intended to harm a single person, let alone kill thirty, she didn’t deserve freedom. Paying that price with her body was insignificant. She’d still be alive—unlike the fate that awaited her in Russia.
Unlike what would happen if her father ever got his hands on her again.
In a strange, perverse way, Dubai offered a freedom that was wholly acceptable. She gestured at the syringe in Alexei’s hand. She didn’t know what it was, didn’t
want
to know. But she sensed it would poison her for life, that if she allowed him to stick that needle into her, she’d lose her hold on reality.
“You can put that away.”
Surprise arched his strong brow.
“Take me wherever it is you’re taking me. But don’t put that in my veins.” As she realized what she was agreeing to, a foreboding weight settled on her shoulders and her throat inched closed. A fine sheen of moisture fuzzed her vision. “I won’t fight you. Just don’t give me that.”
For several, never-ending seconds, Alexei studied her. Protest registered in his expression, only to yield to a resignation that came with a heavy sigh. His broad shoulders bowed. Absently, he nodded, placed the syringe back in the leather case, then turned off the overhead light.
Silence spanned between them. The vehicle bounced on, springs rattling, engine cutting through the thick quiet. Cool night air invaded
the tiny space, and Sasha clutched at the coarse canvas covering her lower body.
“Are you cold?” Alexei whispered.
Her voice rasped just as softly. “Yes.”
Strong arms wrapped around her waist and hauled her into a cushioning embrace. Alexei reached beneath her calves to drape her knees over his thighs, tucked the canvas tight around her body, and cradled her close. She snuggled into his arms, taking comfort in the warmth of his body, the crisp scent of soap that lingered on his clothing. Beneath her ear, his heart beat steady and strong.
She tipped her gaze to his face, taking in long, lowered eyelashes that dusted over high cheekbones and cloaked his startlingly light green gaze. His features tightened with unspoken pain and grief. The strength of his embrace echoed the same emotions.
She reached unsteady fingertips to his face and flattened her palm against his bristly cheek. Her thumb brushed across the stubble that edged his full, sensual mouth. His gaze held hers for a suspended heartbeat, before he crushed her close and his mouth fluttered through her hair. “I’m so sorry, Irina.”
Despite whatever drove him, whatever obligation he sought to fulfill, in her heart, Sasha knew he was.
PRESENT DAY
O
nyx eyes sparkled, silently laughing at Sasha from the plush beige chair beside hers. She stopped, mid-sentence, and pursed her lips, though her own humor threatened to spoil her attempt at annoyance. It occurred to her, even as Saeed’s amusement escaped with a warm smile, she was being ridiculous. Not once in two years had she felt the need to deliver a formal report on the staff she oversaw as his housekeeping manager.
She tossed the papers onto the table in front of her knees with a chuckle. “I’m no good at this.”
His broad shoulders shook with mirth as he reached across and straightened the disheveled report. “No, you are not.” Leaning sideways, closer to her, he brought the back of his hand to her face. Knuckles whispered across her cheek, then slid lower to push a thick lock of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “You try too hard when your work already pleases me.”
“I just want everything to go well when you meet with the tribal leaders this week. They’ll expect the same meticulous service they received at your father’s home.” Sighing, she flopped into the soft cushions and played with the buttons on the blouse Saeed had given her on her birthday, two months prior. With Sheikh Amir’s suicide six months ago—a death Saeed diligently covered up—and the crimes Amir had been charged with, it was imperative his son make strong impressions to prevent the disgraceful secret from being discovered and his family from falling into shame. Particularly when Sasha was living proof of
Sheikh Amir’s dark practices. Saeed and she rarely spoke about his ownership of her, or how she’d been presented as a gift two years previous, but they both understood her driving need to make sure she didn’t jeopardize him, or her own safety.
“Come here, Sasha.” He patted a muscular thigh.
Feeling like she bore the weight of the world on her shoulders, she moved catty-corner to sit in his lap. One arm wound around her waist, holding her protectively—comfortably—close. Sasha tucked her cheek onto his shoulder and breathed in the scent of frankincense that clung to his skin. Another sigh slipped free.
Saeed ran his hand up and down her spine. “You worry overmuch. We have discussed this,
habibti
, they will not ask questions. You are safe here. They assume I enjoy the pleasures of your body, no more. They will not find it worth their time to consider you, your work, or your origins further.”
A faint smile drifted to her lips despite the thick worry that had plagued her since Saeed had inherited his father’s kingdom. His preference for Western culture and his deviations from Muslim traditions were complication enough. If anyone discovered she was part of the ring of human trafficking his father had begun, one loose end as yet unresolved and one of the few women who hadn’t been returned to their original countries, Saeed’s family would suffer. Talk would begin again about Amir’s supposed meeting with the man who transported the women, and the questionable events that Saeed had managed to spin into a story of assassination, despite knowing his father had taken his own life. Saeed didn’t need her origins threatening him further.
She let out another heavy sigh. “Mellilah knows I was with you when you found Amir, Saeed. She also knows you never visit my bed. She hates me.” Saeed’s first wife despised the close relationship Sasha and Saeed shared. That she couldn’t dismiss Sasha with the simple tag of
whore
made her somehow feel threatened, and added yet another stressor to the circumstances.
Not that Sasha complained about her unique status and lack of
sexual involvement. While Saeed was young and nice-looking, they had their own arrangement. She took care of his household, they’d become close friends, and for his own reasons, he hadn’t used her for the purpose she’d been gifted. Whatever those reasons were, she’d been blessed to be placed in such a position of trust. Blessed by the deep camaraderie they shared.
Though admittedly, it was a bit odd that while he obviously found her desirable, he’d never acted on the urge.
“Mellilah does not cause you trouble, does she?” Wariness gave Saeed’s voice an edge.
“No.” Sasha shook her head and sank deeper into his embrace.
“And she will not.” His hand slipped to her waist, the other coming to join it, and he shifted her so she faced him directly. “She has borne me two sons, my rightful heirs. She will bear me more. She would not jeopardize her security, or theirs.” He paused, then looked Sasha straight in the eye. “Or even those which come from your womb.”
Saeed’s sons. She could give him children—Lord knew he had done more than enough for her. And he was an attentive father to his boys. But to get to that point, something would have to change between them. Drastically.
Sasha laughed. “I think you’d have to do more than come to my room to go over your staffing reports.”
The light in his eyes darkened to a deeper hue of black as a faint smile touched his full mouth again. One corner of his narrow mustache twitched the way it always did when he found something she said satisfying. He cupped her chin in one hand, his hold gentle, his voice intimate. “I have waited two years so you would come to trust me and feel as if you truly belonged in my palace. Do I have that trust now?”
“I trust you with my life, Saeed.” Her secrets too. He was the only person in this world who knew the things she had done, the deaths she’d unwittingly caused, and the absolute hatred she felt for her father.
She ran a fingertip over the line of close-cut dark beard that edged his defined jaw. “You know this.”
“It is time for things to change between us,
habibti.
” For the first time since she’d known him, he leaned forward and touched soft lips to hers. “Tonight. I have planned a surprise for you. It is my hope you will not take offense.”
Startled by the sudden kiss, Sasha struggled to connect his meaning. “Offense?” This was unexpected. She knew it would come eventually, and she couldn’t say the idea of sleeping with Saeed didn’t appeal—he was handsome, kind, and always considerate. But the last thing she’d been prepared to hear after discussing household reports was that he’d decided to exercise his inherent rights to her body.
He didn’t answer with words. His lips brushed hers again, then lingered, the tip of his tongue teasing the corner of her mouth. Sasha responded naturally, opening to his subtle entreaty and gliding her tongue across his. Confident, yet tender—he kissed the same way he benignly touched her. She closed her eyes and let him take his fill.
The newness of their circumstances held a strange appeal. His previous restraint hadn’t made sense. He was a man. She was a woman. He desired her. He
should
have acted on it far sooner. Instead, he’d put her on a virtual pedestal, gave her important duties in his household, and treated her like a princess. But the gentle press of his lips didn’t come close to stirring the fire of the last man she had kissed. Alexei still haunted her dreams. Still stoked an ache she couldn’t satisfy.
Saeed eased the kiss to a close, his breathing elevated, his gaze now fathomlessly black. “You must understand it is only your pleasure I wish for, Sasha. Despite how it may sound…” His brow furrowed.
“What is it, Saeed?” Smiling, she flattened her palm against his chest.
“I fear you will not like my explanation.” Abruptly, he slid her off his lap into the cushion beside him. “But there are things I must do to protect the secrets of my family. You’re right, in some ways, to worry.”
A spark of apprehension lit, and Sasha’s gaze narrowed. Sheikh
Amir had done some terrible things. Buying women for his hotel, trading arms, running drugs—none of those sounded like Saeed. And if he’d suddenly decided black-market bombs were his thing, they were going to have serious problems. He knew how she felt about that.
“I found myself approached by awkward allies,” Saeed began cautiously. “The same tribal leaders you have been so concerned with.”
Sasha nodded.
“Though they have mentioned nothing of you—
and they will not
—several already question the circumstances of my father’s death. Mahmoud specifically talks of how my father and he were supposed to meet with the agent who arrested him, but my father was coincidentally found dead in the palace garden the morning of. Mahmoud’s sons question the story that my father was killed by the same agent.” Saeed passed a hand through thick, wavy hair. “His sons have insinuated that if I shun the involvement of other tribal leaders, they would make it…difficult.”
Sasha cringed. Saeed had worried about Mahmoud, one of the few men who had been captured and taken to America as opposed to being killed in the quiet of night. He hadn’t anticipated Mahmoud would talk, or that the questions Mahmoud posed would travel across an ocean to the homeland that neighbored Saeed’s. The men who were lured by the money to continue in what their fathers began wanted Saeed’s connections with the Western world. Connections they didn’t possess. Evidently now, they sought to press his hand the only way they knew how, by using rumor and suspicion to gain his aid and alliance.
“I had to choose a means of pacifying them,
habibti
. With the respect I feel for you, I couldn’t agree to the trading of arms. You also know my abhorrence of drugs. Which leaves…”
His gaze held hers steadily, speaking what they both knew. What they both despised, but couldn’t escape—the trade of women. Sasha swallowed hard. She’d had it good. Far better than the rest of the women that U.S. Intelligence had taken back and introduced to rehab
programs that would cleanse the heroin from their blood and hopefully their minds. But they’d never shed the scars.
Still, she had little room to protest. Saeed was caught between two threatening boulders. She couldn’t ask him to endanger his entire family for her peace of mind. Nor would she. He had saved her from that horrific dependence on drugs and an endless stream of sexual degradations. Despite all that, despite all the privileges she knew, she still belonged to him. She was not his equal. Her opinion wouldn’t matter against the current stakes, and while Saeed cared for her, he wouldn’t risk everything to alleviate her disgust.
“What did you plan for tonight?”
“I have met with a man. Vasily. Another of the
Bratva
who comes highly recommended for duties such as this. He has been trading Russian women to China for several years.”