My Desert Rose (5 page)

"I sincerely
hope you do, because planning a kidnapping is a cold and calculated
move to make."

He opened his
mouth to reply, but she put a hand up to stop him. "Don't, just
don't speak. I need some time to assimilate everything."

Silence
descended upon them and Katie turned back to the window, choosing
instead to feast her artistic delight on the passing scenery.

Before long,
dwellings began to appear at the side of the road and soon they
entered a small city. They drove past a huge mosque and a football
stadium before turning right down a long road, which led to a dead
end with double gates. The driver punched in a code on the security
key-pad and the gates opened to reveal a tree-lined avenue with
green parkland on either side. Driving down the avenue, the limo
finally came to a stop in a circular driveway and an enormous domed
building presented itself. Two white columns flanked the double
arched front doors. Matching arched windows over the two floors
complemented the look and on either side of the domed building sat
two angled wings, which gave the whole ensemble a slight V in
shape. Further columns ran along the ground floor of the wings,
creating undercover walkways, lined by glass doors. On the first
floor, stone arches with beautifully carved lattice frames
decorated the recessed private balconies. It was an architect's
dream.

A long
forgotten memory darted across her mind of another house, similar
to this one. Happy memories bubbled to the surface of smells and
laughter, of feeling secure as she wrapped herself in her mother's
skirts. Shaking off the sentimental feelings, she came back to the
present with the approach of a man from the entrance. African in
descent, he was tall and strong looking.

The car door
was opened for them by the man and she could hear Tariq greeting
him.

"Katie, this is
Thebes our head butler."

The man nodded
to her as she climbed out of the car. "At your service Sheikha
el-Tayeb," he said pleasantly while giving her a wide, friendly
grin.

Tariq took hold
of her hand in his and she was grateful for the warmth of his
fingers as they threaded through hers. The shock of the last
twenty-four hours was now catching up with her and she was feeling
very off-kilter.

Walking through
the huge doors, they entered a grand foyer. Katie's breath caught
at its magnificence. A white marble floor elegantly displayed an
insignia inlay of a golden rose with pink tips along its petals.
This led to a double staircase, which was flanked by gold ornate
banisters. The entrance hall also had sets of enormous double
lattice doors, which ran down either side of the foyer, leading off
into other rooms and the first floor had a viewing balcony all the
way around. Dropping her head back, she looked straight up at the
domed roof. The light from the stained glass windows rained down a
myriad of colours that bounced off the walls and marble floor,
giving it a mystical feel.

Katie gulped as
an all too familiar panic assailed her and her knees shook, she
couldn't do this.

Tariq caught
the worry on her face as he finished giving instructions to Thebes.
Without even thinking, he took hold of her, swept her up into his
arms and made for the stairs.

"What are you
doing?" she asked in his ear.

"I'm following
the Roman tradition of carrying the bride over the threshold."

Despite her
nerves and her earlier anger at him, she giggled. "Put me down you
idiot."

He grinned at
her. "Not until we reach our suite."

"
Our
suite?"

Surprised blue
eyes tried to search his, but he turned his eyes away. "Ah, about
that," he murmured into her blonde hair as he carried her along the
corridor. She smelled of lilacs. "It's expected of us to live as
husband and wife."

Katie tensed in
his arms. "You didn't mention that we would be sharing a room!" It
came as a blow. In fact, she hadn't thought about any sleeping
arrangements or what would be expected. Dread hit her stomach. In
truth, other than her 'no sex' rule, she hadn't really bargained
herself a good deal out of this joke of a marriage, she'd just gone
along with Tariq's plans.

They came to a
set of slightly open, white double doors. Pushing through them,
Tariq carried her into the most opulent room Katie had ever
seen.

"Holy cow," she
whispered.

A long room
with cream walls, decorative white coving and beautiful soft
lighting from three crystal chandeliers made her catch her breath.
Tariq put her down and her feet sank into the thick white carpet.
Gold sofas covered in little cushions sat in a U-shape as they
faced the bank of glass arched doors, which opened out onto three
balconies. A gilded dining table and six matching chairs were to
the side of the sofas and at each end of the room columns flanked
further double doors.

Tariq pointed
to the doors on her right. "They lead to our bedroom and two
dressing rooms, each with a separate bathroom. And that one at the
other end leads to my office and meeting room."

"Where's the
kitchen?" she joked.

He cocked his
head. "Kitchen?" he echoed. "I don't understand."

Katie laughed
softly at his confusion. "It's just that I'm now used to living in
a little town house in the middle of a city where I can virtually
open the fridge door from my sofa."

Tariq pulled a
face and then shrugged. "It's okay, little moheet, we can have a
fridge put next to the sofa for you."

Now she laughed
outright. "You're not serious are you?"

The look of
humour lit up her face and he smiled at the innocent beauty shining
through those eyes of hers. "If that's what you're used to..." he
trailed off when he saw that shadow of anger pass over her face
again. What had he said wrong this time?

Katie threw her
hands up in the air. "And what if I asked for a whole set of
fridges or even a solid gold pool table to match the dining suite.
Can I have those things too?"

What was eating
at her? He blinked cautiously. "Anything is possible?"

For some reason
his answer rustled her feathers even further. Why, she didn't know.
Perhaps it was the realisation that she couldn't go back to her
life in England, and she hadn't even said goodbye to it. Everything
she'd worked hard for was now down the pan. All of her appointments
to showcase her latest photographic art would have to be cancelled.
She tapped her foot nervously. "I could go utterly mad living
here!" she declared before looking him directly in the eyes and
stating, "When this is over, Tariq, I'm going home to my little
two-up-two-down house."

"Two-up-two-down..." he repeated, "But Katarina, this is what you
were born into. This is who you are."

"No, it's not,"
she snapped at him. "This is from another time, another place, one
I've since put behind me. It was this very way of living that was
responsible for the death of my family!" Turning away from him, she
marched down the length of the room and threw open the double doors
at the end before slamming them shut behind her.

This time the
opulence of the room didn't lift her spirits. It was more like
receiving a sharp slap. The humongous bed, the patio doors, the
huge walk-in bathroom with the double showers and the spa baths. It
all felt wrong. Empty. Dropping onto the cream chaise longue in her
dressing room, Katie put her head in her hands and allowed the sob
that had been threatening to show itself all day, emerge. This
wasn't right. Tariq wasn't playing fair at all. This lifestyle that
he'd brought her to was not for her.

Life as
Katarina ended when she was six years old. Vivid memories clawed at
the walls of her mind. It was a normal day as she left school and
climbed into the limo to be taken home just outside of the town of
Harran in Turkey, near the Syrian border. Upon arriving at the
electric gates to the magnificent property, she’d been shocked to
see them crashed through. The guard was lying in a pool of blood
outside the gatehouse, he’d been shot. When they reached the house
the front doors were hanging off their hinges. Katarina's face was
glued to the car window. The driver had told her to stay put as he
got out of the car and ran into the house, looking for his wife and
young child.

Katarina hadn't
listened. An inexplicable pull was tugging at her from the house,
so she’d climbed out of the car that day and crept silently to the
front doors. Knowing what was to come, would she have stayed in the
car? It was a question she'd asked herself many times since, but in
an odd way, seeing what had happened with her own eyes had also
been her confirmation, otherwise, she may have never believed
it.

It was the
smell that hit her first. It was an acrid smell. She now knew it to
be the smell of fear and blood. In the entrance hall, Yannia, the
young maid from Hungary, who had told her happy stories about her
homeland, was lying at an odd angle on the floor. Her neck had been
broken. Katarina stifled a sob. All she could think about now was
her mama and papa. Should she run upstairs and hide? Then she
remembered that her mother would always be in the lounge
embroidering at this time, waiting for Katarina to come home. They
would then drink milk and eat cookies together.

Following
through into the lounge, Katarina was almost too afraid to look
around the vast double doors. It was a shoe that caught her eye
first. It was her mother's and it was lying there without a foot in
it.

Anxiety filled
her little body as she looked further around the door. The sight
that met her eyes wasn't something that her little brain even knew
existed. Lying there, as though entwined asleep, were the bodies of
her beautiful mother and father. Blood oozed from the slit in her
mother's throat, dripping onto her golden-blonde hair, making it
look like a red flamed halo. The bump of her large pregnant stomach
now lay still and lifeless. Only that morning Katrina had laid her
head upon it, feeling her healthy baby brother kick from inside.
Now she knew she would never meet him.

What was more
disturbing was the utter look of grief that had frozen on her
father's face. A knife protruded from his back and it appeared that
he'd spent his last breaths cradling her mother in his arms.
Shocked to the core of her being, Katarina began to shake
uncontrollably, her kidneys and bowels opened and she let out a
blood curdling scream.

Everything that
had happened after that was a blur. Even the flight over to England
to live with her aunt and uncle had been like watching the memory
through a haze, as if it was happening to someone else. It was only
the patience and love from both of them that drew her out of her
shell and began the process of healing. By the time a year had
rolled around, she was ready to go to back school and be a child
again.

The one thing
that surprised her about her new life was how she liked having a
small house to live in. There were no hiding places or vast spaces
of emptiness. But now here she was, right back in that life again,
only this time she was an adult. It didn't matter how far you ran,
the past always seemed to catch up with you. Well, she wasn't about
to be drawn back into an identity that no longer existed.

A gentle knock
came at the door. "Katarina," Tariq called.

"Katie!" she
yelled back. "My name is Katie!"

"Okay," he
soothed. "Katie, come on out, let's get something to eat and talk
about this."

She blew her
nose on the tissues that she'd found in the bathroom. "Okay, just
give me a minute." In these last few minutes she'd made a decision.
The past she couldn't do anything about, but the future she could.
All she had to do was get through this thing with Tariq, reconnect
with her father and move on.

Chapter
Four

Tariq was not
the most patient man. If he were, he wouldn't have kidnapped Katie
and then basically coerced her into this marriage. Maybe if he'd
taken after his mother, he would have gone to see her in her home,
discussed everything thoroughly with her and then given her the
option to say no. However, time was running out. Men's lives were
at risk. Families were being destroyed and his business was taking
a severe battering.

A groove was
appearing in the white carpet as he paced the length of the room.
For months he'd been looking at ways to catch the power behind the
pirates. The man who’d survived had told him that he'd seen his
brother and the leader of the pirates talking on the ship as it
docked. Every avenue he'd been down since to gather more
information had led to a dead end until he’d received Tristan's
email. Opening it, he’d found the wedding invitation and a bunch of
pictures of Tristan and Annabelle's daughter, April, taken by the
photographer, Katie Sharpe. There was a small thumbnail picture of
Katie and he knew then that she was his solution.

If he could
prove his brother and his wife's involvement with photographic
evidence, then he could end this affliction, but not just any
photographer would do. Most people knew of his family and exactly
who he was. Running an undercover operation of this magnitude could
not be trusted to anyone other than himself and someone extremely
close to him, like a wife.

Seeing Katie on
that thumbnail and the quality of her work made perfect sense that
she was to be the one. What he wasn't prepared for was who she was.
At first, his research showed her to be a talented individual,
brought up in a small village before obtaining a photographic
degree at the local university. There were some details exposed in
relation to a few boyfriends that had made him feel uncomfortable,
but it was uncovering the deed poll for a name change that had led
to his greatest discovery.