The Sheik’s Captured Princess (The Samara Royal Family Series Book 4) (3 page)

Glancing behind her as surreptitiously as possible, she reached into the open window of her truck and popped the hood.  Looking down at the vehicle, she flicked the switch that she’d installed months ago and the engine roared to life. 

Slamming the hood of the truck closed, she hurried around to the side, slipped into the truck and drove off. 

Keeping her sunglasses over her eyes even in the darkening evening, she kept her head low and her speed down. 

When she was finally out of the city, she started breathing a bit easier.  She’d made it this far, she told herself.  She was determined to get home safely! 

By the time darkness was falling, her sliced hand was throbbing but she still refused to look at the wounds.  Every muscle in her body ached and she was ravenously hungry.  All things that she would use to teach herself not to get into that kind of a situation again.  She went through her mistakes in her mind, knowing that the first one was to have let the men into the room all at the same time.  That was a beginner’s error and she definitely wasn’t a beginner.  Over and over again on the drive across the rugged dessert, she played the scenes in her mind.  Especially the one when that man…she wished she knew his name…had touched her! 

It infuriated her that he’d touched her like that!  He’d had no reason to do that!  None at all.  He’d just been acting like a bully! 

The whole drive back to her “house”, she railed at the man’s audacity as well as berated herself at her own stupidity for putting herself into a position where a man could do that to her.  She should have been smarter and faster, should have checked with her sources so that she would have known that rebels were active in the area and not gone there.  There were so many things she should and shouldn’t have done, losing her work at the very top of that list, but she wasn’t giving up.  She’d just have to figure out what had really happened today, who those men were and…yes, she was going to get her work back! 

Hopefully, that horrible man hadn’t simply erased her material.  She’d worked so hard over the past few months to get all of those interviews, all the historical information and…goodness, those pictures!  All of those pictures of the secret areas.  Some of her work was backed up to her computer but the past few days, she hadn’t been home and hadn’t had a chance to back up her work! 

Just another lesson, she told herself.  She’d handle things better if anything like this happened again.  Next time, she’d be stronger, faster, smarter. 

Chapter 2

 

Jurar growled as he walked into his office that night, furious with himself and his team for losing the woman.  He dumped her bag on his desk and pressed a button.

“Yes, Your Highness?” his aide asked immediately. 

“Get the head of the tech department to my office.”  He didn’t add the word “immediately” to his “request”.  That was assumed. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” and the man clicked off.

Jurar paced furiously across his office, his mind sifting through the information he had on the woman he’d temporarily captured this afternoon.  Never would he have believed that a woman would be part of the rebel movement.  He’d thought that group was part of the ultra-conservative faction that believed women should be barefoot and pregnant, in the house and only stepping out of it to get household supplies. 

They were a shrinking number in his country, but they were radical in their thinking and willing to do crazy things to maintain their perceptions on how life should be.  But the presence of this woman, with all of her pictures of the various sites…he suspected they were the rebel group’s targets. 

Once again, he picked up the camera.  It was expensive.  And there were even extra lenses and numerous SD cards.  There were probably thousands of pictures, too many to go through quickly.  And too many sites to protect.  He had no idea where the rebels would hit next and this many photographs made him furious.  Not even the combined efforts of the military and police force could protect this many sites! 

Before his tech director called, his aide stepped in, hesitant because Jurar was obviously irritated. 

“What is it?” Jurar demanded, trying to smooth his tone of voice, to reassure the man that his head wasn’t about to be chopped off.  His aide stepped into the office with a piece of paper, laying it on Jurar’s desk.  “Your schedule for tomorrow, Your Highness,” he said and bowed, handing Jurar the paper.  “And you asked me to remind you about the conference call tonight.”

Jurar stopped, looked down at his watch and cursed.  “Cancel the conference call for tonight but I’ll still go to the meetings tomorrow.  They’re too important.”

The man backed out of the room and Jurar gritted his teeth at the man’s obsequiousness.  He supposed he’d have to get used to it now. 

He hadn’t planned to be the ruler of Drakar.  Hell, he hadn’t even been high up in the line of succession.  There had been his uncle and his uncle’s three sons to take on this role.  But the people had ejected his uncle and his heirs from the country, killing one of them.  The other two weren’t a threat, not wanting the role either, too intent on slowly killing themselves with drugs, alcohol and any woman they could sleep with. 

Of course, Jurar hadn’t wanted the role either.  Circumstances had thrust him into the job and he had taken on the role only because there wasn’t anyone else.  Hell, he knew damn well that he wouldn’t have allowed anyone else to take the job either.  His country had been devastated enough by his uncle and the careless way he’d ruled.  His people needed a strong leader and he was going to do whatever it took to get Drakar back on track.  He could do no less.

That didn’t mean he liked all the bowing and scraping though! 

An image of the woman from this afternoon popped into his head.  Okay, so he wouldn’t mind if that little warrior woman did a bit of bowing and scraping.  He smiled as he thought about her in his bed, that glorious hair spread out behind her as he had his way with her.  Naked.  The possibilities were enticing. 

Another knock on the door and he swung around, quickly shifting his mind and getting his body back under control.  “Enter!” he called out.  He’d have plenty of time once his guards found that woman.  She couldn’t have gotten far.  He had her bag and her identification. 

Of course, the IDs were fake.  But they were a start.  He was determined to find her and bring the woman to him for questioning.  Among other things.

“Are you any good at sifting through images?” he demanded when the man with thick, dark rimmed glasses came into his office. 

The man was painfully nervous but he nodded quickly.  “I can set up a program to look at various images, you just need to tell me what you’re looking for.”

Jurar walked over to his desk and lifted the SD cards that were filled with digital images.  “Download these images.  Work with my head of security.  We’re not sure what we’re looking for, but these are most likely filled with potential bombing targets.  I need to know if there are any that the photographer paid more attention to or that look especially vulnerable.  My head of security will give you other things to look for.”

The man looked down at his outstretched hands filled with SD cards.  “These are high resolution cards, Your Highness,” he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with his nervousness.  “There are possibly thousands of pictures on each of these cards.”

“Exactly.  I need to narrow down potential targets.”

The man’s eyes widened.  He looked up at his ultimate boss, then back down at his hands with all of the plastic cards.  It took a few moments but eventually, his resolve firmed up and his lips compressed.  “Yes sir.  I mean, Your Highness.  I’ll get right on it,” he said and turned around.  He was in such a hurry, he actually bumped into the doorframe, looked back at Jurar and then cleared his throat as he walked through the open door, mumbling his apology. 

By the following morning, Jurar was even more furious.  Not only had his security team not caught the woman, but there was no sign of her!  He’d had trouble getting to sleep because he’d been imagining all the things he wanted to do to her, with her.  And then when he’d finally gotten to sleep, his mind still had tormented him with erotic dreams of the woman and even more possibilities.  With a woman like that, with those cat-like eyes staring up at him, his mind was extremely inventive. 

So when he walked into the Kilar Palace the following morning for the first of a series of meetings to try and ease the tensions between Drakar and Kilar, he was still in a foul mood.

“Good morning, Sheik al Tinora,” Sheik Ramzi bowed as Jurar approached.  “It is an honor to have you here this morning.  And I want to reiterate how appreciative I am that you reached out to start these discussions.  I will endeavor to reciprocate in kind.”

Jurar bowed as well, taking the other man’s hand, surprised that Ramzi del Abass Samara, Sheik of Kilar was about the same height and brawn as he was.  It was rare to find a man he could look in the eye. And even more rare for a man in his position to be fit.  Jurar had always respected Sheik Samara for his political prowess and both his interior and foreign policies.  The man was adamant at protecting his people, but fair to the rest of the world.  And well respected.  He was one of the few leaders who knew the rules and was smart enough to win even when playing within those rules. 

“Thank you for agreeing as well.  I know we have a lot of difficult issues to deal with.”

“Shall we get started?” Ramzi suggested.  He then turned and introduced the other members of the discussions, including his two brothers, Rais and Turk, also tall men. 

Four hours later, ties were loosened and jackets discarded as the men surrounding the table argued back and forth about the terms of the negotiations. 

Ciala stepped into the conference room, cringing at the exasperated tones she heard.  “Gentlemen, how about a break for lunch?” she offered.  Turning to her brother, she smiled as brightly as she could.  “I’ve asked the chef to set up a buffet in the next room.” 

Jurar was startled by the woman who entered the room.  It wasn’t just that she was beautiful…there was something familiar about her but he wasn’t sure what it was.  He was fairly certain that he’d never been introduced to this beauty, but….

No, that wasn’t quite right he thought as everyone stood up and moved towards the set of double doors that had opened up, revealing an elegant feast.  But his eyes were drawn towards the woman, watching her.  She was refined and beautiful in a very soft, very delicate way.  As each man passed by, they paused to greet her and she reciprocated, commenting to each of them, asking about their wife or children.  All of the men treated her with the utmost respect but he wasn’t sure who she was. 

“Sheik al Tinora,” Ramzi called out.  Jurar walked over to the man but his eyes never left the lovely features of the woman greeting each of the men by their names.  Her mere presence was lightening the atmosphere.  Even the men she didn’t know, the ones from Drakar, she treated with a kindness that was unexpected.  As the men passed through to the buffet, this lovely creature greeted each person, treated them as if they were now her special friend.  And each of the men melted under her soft words. 

Jurar knew that Sheik Ramzi was about to introduce him to this lovely woman and, as they approached, Jurar felt an almost predatory sensation creep up inside of him.  Predatory and…possessive.  It was almost as if...as if he was somehow claiming this woman as his own even thought he’d never met her, never even seen her before. 

Ciala felt the man’s presence even before she saw him.  She’d been told earlier today that the negotiations with Drakar were not going well.  She’d arranged for the luncheon and was doing her best to ease everyone’s mood, but it was extremely difficult with this strange sensation coming over her.  It felt like…almost as if someone was watching her.  As if that someone was about to pounce.  It both terrified her and thrilled her on an elemental level that she didn’t understand. 

And then she turned to greet her oldest brother.  Right next to Ramzi…the man…the one from the jail…the one that had…he was here! 

Dear heaven, the man from yesterday, the man who had choked her to the point that she’d passed out, the man who had pressed his hand against her breast, was now standing right in front of her, looking down at her with a curious expression…could he…did he not recognize her? 

Automatically, Ciala lifted her hand to make sure that the pale, blue scarf she’d tied around her neck to cover the bruises from yesterday’s altercation was still in place.  Thankfully, it was her left hand that had been sliced by the glass yesterday afternoon so, when the man’s hand extended, she was able to offer her right, uninjured hand. 

She couldn’t quite look up at him.  The man was tall, possibly even a bit taller than her brothers.  And she already knew that he had too many muscles underneath that suit and crisp, white shirt. 

“This is one of my sisters, Princess Ciala Samara.  Ciala, Sheik Jurar al Tinora of Drakar.”

Still, her lashes were long against her soft skin, hiding something from him.  When she lifted her hand to touch her earring, he noticed how tiny and delicate her hands were.  He was fascinated by this woman. 

Jurar took the woman’s hand in his, noting the trembling but still trying to figure out where he’d met her before.  “Have we met somewhere?” he asked, not releasing her hand.  He enjoyed the soft, delicate texture as much as he wanted this woman’s eyes to look up at him.  Those long, dark lashes were hiding her eyes and he wanted a glimpse. 

“I don’t believe we have ever been formally introduced,” she said softly, her free hand twisting her earring and then moving back down nervously.  “But perhaps our paths have crossed in a less formal environment.” 

“Well, it is a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess Ciala.  I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”  It was a lie, he thought. He’d heard of Ramzi as well as his brothers, but he’d actually only vaguely knew about Princess Ciala and her sister, the Princess Shantra.  Both of these women weren’t in the public’s eye enough for the world to know a great deal about them.  They were young as well.  He knew that neither of them were married and, for some reason, that knowledge made him feel significantly better.  He didn’t care so much about the Princess Shantra, but Ciala…yeah.  He liked this princess.  And he couldn’t seem to tamp down that predatory instinct where this woman was concerned.

“I would be honored to escort you in to lunch, Princess Ciala.”

Ciala knew that etiquette required her to escort, or more accurately because of this man’s title, be escorted, into the dining room by the guest of honor.  But to hell with etiquette, she thought.  This was one of those times when her flight instinct was kicking in.  She simply couldn’t allow this man to recognize her. 

“I am flattered, Your Highness, but this meal is for you and your staff.  I was going to…”  Her finger twitched against her earring again. 

“Nonsense,” Ramzi interrupted.  “You set this all up.  Let’s go have something to eat.” 

And that was the end of her ability to argue and escape, she thought while she shot daggers into her oldest brother’s back.  Even Rais and Turk were looking at her strangely as they moved into the dining room, grabbing plates and piling food on.  Her brothers were never shy about eating, she knew.  They were large men with enormous appetites. 

Ciala pretended to look over the crowd but in reality, her eyes were drawn to that man.  The tall, ferocious looking man.  She couldn’t let him recognize her! 

At that moment, the man looked down at her and that shocking awareness raced through her.  Her heart skipped a beat as the heat stole through her. 

Her eyes dropped to his hands!  Those same hands that had choked her.  The hands that had reached out and touched her breasts! 

Ciala felt that heat completely dissipate as a cold fear enveloped her body.  She felt as if she might be sick and even looked around, trying to decide the best and fastest way out of the dining room. 

Other books

The Testament by Elie Wiesel
The Ravine by Paul Quarrington
The Santiago Sisters by Victoria Fox
Better Than Chocolate by Lacey Savage
The Seventh Crystal by Gary Paulsen
Rowdy Rides to Glory (1987) by L'amour, Louis
Incubus by Jennifer Quintenz