Saving the Sheikh (The Legacy Collection) (8 page)

“I will do as I –” Ghalil started, pulling a fist back aggressively.

Rachid didn’t raise a hand to defend himself. He stood, holding his brother’s eyes, neither engaging nor backing down.

“Enough!” Amir roared before contact was made. “Control yourself, Ghalil.”

Ghalil’s hands fell to his sides. The young man spun on his heel and addressed his father angrily. “Me? He makes a mockery of his title and you correct me?”

The stern lines on Amir’s face deepened. His words were spoken softly but held a warning. “You forget your place, Son – and Rachid’s.”

Neither son needed to have that reprimand translated. Amir was reminding Ghalil that Rachid would soon become king. Angry red stained the younger brother’s cheeks. Rachid felt sympathy for him and a sadness as the chasm between them widened.

Amir ordered quietly, “Sit down, Ghalil. This conversation is between Rachid and me.”

Visibly shaking with anger, Ghalil did as his father asked. He took a seat nearby, across from his brother, with the bottom of his feet facing Rachid in an age-old insult:
You are beneath my feet.

The move only saddened Rachid more. A brother was a gift. Would his always be an angry stranger? While he was amassing his fortune, Rachid hadn’t had time to get to know Ghalil. Only now did he admit to himself that he’d hoped his return would change that.

When Rachid met his father’s eyes again, he was surprised to see real concern there. “You take my title in a few months. There is no time for this foolishness. You must win the favor of the people, or you’ll have to earn it with your fist. If word spreads of your actions last night, it will be easy to say that you don’t care about the real dangers facing us from our neighbors. You need to be seen addressing these attacks, not partying with your American friends and using our castles like brothels. The welfare of the family must come first. What were you thinking, Rachid?”

A man like his father would never understand how last night had been about so much more than sex. He considered it irresponsible and selfish. Worse, he was right.
I gave my needs priority over the safety of those I love.
Real shame settled heavily on his heart. “I wasn’t thinking, Father. I’m sorry.”

His father approached him and laid a hand on his arm. “You’ve always done what I have asked of you. And you’ve done it well, son. You’ll succeed here, but it will not be easy.” He dropped his hand and said, “Get this woman out of the country immediately and speak to no one of this.”

He wasn’t the weak link in the room.
Rachid looked over his shoulder at his brother, who stood in response to the unspoken question. Ghalil sneered, “Unlike you, Rachid, I would never do anything to endanger Najriad. My silence will be because it’s best for our people and our family, not for you.”

Am I not family?
Rachid thought sadly, but said nothing.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. The old servant entered, bowed slightly and directed his announcement to the man who held his loyalty. “A thousand apologies, Your Excellence, but the royal advisor has landed on the airfield. I thought you should know.”

King Amir’s eyebrows met in question, but he merely said, “Bring him here.”

“As you wish, Your Excellence.”

Basir? Here? And Father didn’t know he was coming?

That can’t be good.

Dressed in a gold-embroidered blue thobe and keffiyeh, the royal advisor swept into the room. His white hair and weathered skin were a testament to the number of years he had loyally served the Hantan family. If Rachid succeeded in ascending to king, his would be the third generation to trust this man’s sage advice.

He bowed before his king briefly and said, “I have come with a matter of great importance.”

Amir greeted the man with a familiar a hug. “What has happened, Basir?”

The older man held out an international English newspaper and said, “I have been fielding phone calls since this photo hit the news this morning.” His father studied the paper for a moment, then handed it to Rachid.

There, in all of its front-page glory, was a photo of him carrying a flailing Zhang up the steps of his private plane. The headline read,
najriad prince kidnaps chinese billionairess from corisi wedding. china demands her immediate return
.

Rachid skimmed the article, which was full of lies from “sources.” The validity of the picture, however, could not be denied.
Shit.

Ghalil peered over Rachid’s arm and jeered, “Do you still think your actions harm no one?”

Rachid looked at him quickly.
No, he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have. Yes, they had their differences, but his brother wouldn’t lower himself to this.

Amir directed his question to his advisor. “You’ve spoken with the Chinese minister of foreign affairs?”

Basir nodded. “And the Chinese ambassador – twice this morning. They’re furious, but they don’t exactly want her back.”

Amir nodded with understanding.

Rachid demanded, “Then what do they want?”

The older man turned to Rachid and said, “They’d like to see you publicly, severely punished or . . .”

Or had to be better.

“. . . or they want the two of you to marry immediately.”

Rachid swayed back on to his heels.
Not the “or” I was hoping for.

Amir straightened and roared. “My son will not marry some tramp to appease China. If anyone should be punished, it should be her. Obviously she orchestrated this. How else would the news have such a perfect photo of the folly? Tell the papers she was willing and that there will be no punishment for my son. Let her deal with the consequences of her choices.”

Basir said, “The minister won’t be happy.”

The king replied, “No one is happy about this, but it’s done. I will not speak further of this foolishness.” He walked to the window and looked out, dismissing all behind him without a word.

Rachid stepped forward and said, “Father, I can’t let you do that.”

His father turned slowly. His features stern. “It is done, Rachid.”

Rachid went to his father’s side. “No, Father, it is not.”

Amir studied Rachid for a moment. “This woman is important enough that you challenge me, son?”

Rachid didn’t look away. “Father, it is with the greatest respect that I tell you that I cannot go along with your plan. She doesn’t deserve to be treated this way.” As he spoke, his resolve grew. “I promised her that nothing would come from our time together.”

Those wise old eyes narrowed slightly at the unexpected steel in his son’s voice. “You’re willing to marry the woman? Her honor is worth your freedom?”

An image of Zhang tucked into his side, smiling shyly up at him with complete trust, made the answer easy. “Yes,” Rachid said with conviction and without hesitation.

Ghalil interjected, “You think you can marry her and the scandal will simply go away? It’s not that easy.”

Basir countered the young prince’s statement. “It may be. Especially if we don’t tell anyone that she was willing.”

All three men looked at the older advisor in surprise.

He explained, “Rachid, you’ve done well in business, but people question if you have what it takes to stand up to our enemies. This is a bold move, and not backing down to China will impress many. You saw a woman at a wedding. You took her. In our ancient laws, you haven’t broken the law as long as she agrees to marry you within a week. She’ll have to be questioned apart from you, however, and she’ll need to say that she enters into this marriage of her own free will. If you can convince her to do that, this situation may work in your favor.”

Ghalil bristled and asked, “And how will that gain him public approval?”

The advisor smiled. “You’re young, Ghalil. You don’t know how difficult it is to win the heart of an unwilling woman.”

Marriage. It wasn’t something he’d considered himself ready for, but he would do it for family, for country, for Zhang.

Rachid straightened his shoulders and said confidently, “Plan the wedding for Saturday. She’ll agree to it.”

His father rubbed his short beard thoughtfully. “I wish to meet this woman who would be my daughter-in-law, for she has lit a fire in my son that I wasn’t sure would ever ignite. Bring her here.”

Pride swelled even as he stalled his father. “Give me a few moments with her first, Father. She may need time to warm up to the idea.”

Wrinkled bridesmaid dress or sex-rumpled harem slave costume? What a choice.

Zhang could practically hear the universe laughing as she picked the skintight charcoal dress off the floor and stepped back into it.

Oh, great, I left my underwear on the plane.

Perfect.

She stepped into her high heels and headed to the bathroom to comb her hair.
Makeup would be nice, but really, when a breeze from below is enough to remind you of your folly, will mascara make a difference?

Pacing the length of the suite, Zhang reviewed the quick change of events that morning. Somehow Rachid’s father had found out she was there and was apparently not pleased with the news.

So, he locked me in.

And I would do something about it if –

Oh, yes, I left my cell phone at the wedding with Lil.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

Zhang spun at the sound of a key being turned in the door. She stopped midstep and stared at the man who walked in. From the top of his white keffiyeh –covered head to the hem of his long white thobe, Rachid looked every bit the Arab prince she’d imagined in her fantasies, but nothing in his expression implied he had come to play. He held a large rectangular box in one hand.

I hope his apology comes with panties.

Rachid laid the box on the small table near the door. He walked toward her and she held her breath. Standing only a few inches away from her, he said, “Zhang, things have changed.”

She couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Yes, they have. You locked me in.” She glared at him, angry all over again. “You know all that stuff about not wanting to be in control? That ended when we woke up this morning. I hope you have the plane readied, because I’m leaving – right now.”

“No,” he said, slowly shaking his head. “You’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” Zhang said firmly, planting her feet slightly apart. “We had a deal. One night. I leave. No one ever knows. That’s what you agreed to.”

He reached to caress her face, but she pulled back from him angrily. He said, “What we planned doesn’t matter anymore.” He showed her the newspaper Basir had brought.

Zhang read the headline and sagged in shock. Rachid caught her by the elbows.

Oh, my God.

“What are we going to do?” she asked before she’d thought her question through. There was no
we
, only two separate people who had done something incredibly stupid together. He didn’t owe her anything, and that was very likely what he was just about to tell her.

“We prepare for our wedding,” he said calmly.

Zhang almost sunk to the floor, but he propped her up again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought you just said ‘our wedding.’ ”

A patient smile curled a side of his mouth. “You heard me. I don’t love the idea, either, but we don’t have much of a choice.”

 Zhang closed her eyes.
As far as proposals went, his fell pretty flat.

“It doesn’t have to be forever,” he added.

Wow, that makes it even more tempting.
Opening her eyes again, she tried to focus on what Rachid was saying instead of the growing storm of emotion in her heart.

He continued, “My people are not in favor of divorce, but it does happen. A year from now, we can separate over cultural differences and everyone will understand.”

Zhang ripped her arms out of his grasp and said, “I appreciate your very romantic proposal, but I have to decline. I can’t marry you, Rachid. I have a business to run. And although this may not look good in the news, it will pass and people will forget about it. We don’t have to do anything drastic.”

Rachid’s expression set in harsh lines. “As we speak, my father is informing the Chinese minister of foreign affairs that we’ll be married this coming weekend.”

Zhang stood toe-to-toe with him, hands on hips, and said, “That’s a problem, because we are not getting married.”

Instead of arguing the point, Rachid walked over and picked up the box near the door and handed it to her. “My father would like to you meet you. I suggest you wear this.”

Zhang took the box angrily. “Good. I’d like to meet your father so I can tell him what I told you. I’m not marrying anyone.”

Rachid tipped her head up with one finger and said softly, “I suggest you don’t. My father’s word is law. If he decides to execute you for dishonoring our family, even I couldn’t stop him. And if you think your government is going to storm in here and save you, you’re more naïve than I took you for.”

Zhang yanked her chin away from him but held her tongue. She wasn’t fool enough to take them on while they were in control of the situation. She could play along just long enough to gain an opportunity to contact her people. Government support was unnecessary. She had a small security force who would give their lives for her. All she had to do was get word to them. Composing her features, Zhang said, “Fine. I’ll meet your father and I’ll play nice. But it doesn’t change anything.”

Rachid looked down into her eyes and looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he bowed slightly and went to the door. “I’ll tell him you will meet us in thirty minutes.”

Zhang nodded once. As she saw him take the key out of his pocket again, she rushed toward the door but was too late to stop him from locking her in again. She threw the box angrily against the door and said, “Even in my fantasy, you didn’t lock me in!”

It didn’t help her mood that she heard him laugh on the other side of the door.

Oh, that man is going to pay.

She didn’t want to love the dress, but the simplicity of the long-sleeved gold-leaf gown with a sheer-blue overlay was stunning and feminine without being provocative. The square-toed Jimmy Choo gold flats were a welcome accessory. She would have said that she felt more comfortable in simple black slacks, but she reluctantly admitted to herself that these delicate layers of expensive material made her feel beautiful.