Apparently they considered him that dangerous. He was flattered, really.
“So you find death wishes a source of amusement? A daredevil by nature, not only by trade, eh? Figures. But aren’t you also supposed to be meticulous and prudent? I thought that’s why you’re still in one piece after all the crazy stunts you’ve pulled. Isn’t it the first thing you’re taught when you’re hatched in Saraya—that Judar doesn’t sustain life for your species?”
His species. The Aal Ghaanems. The Aal Masoods’ mortal enemies. Aih. There was that stumbling block, too.
“So again...do you have a death wish? Don’t you know that, now more than ever, a high-profile Sarayan like you at large in Judar could have been targeted for any level of retribution?”
Mohab flattened a palm over his heart. “I’m touched you’re concerned about keeping me in one piece. But I assure you, I behaved in an exemplary fashion, antagonizing no one.”
“No one but me. Arriving unannounced, terrorizing my subjects, forcing me to drop everything to investigate your incursion. Is this your king’s last hope now that he’s put his foot in his mouth on global feed? Is he afraid I’ll finally knock him off his throne, as I should have long ago? Has he sent his wild card to deal with the crisis...at the root?”
“You think I’m here to...what? Assassinate you?” A huff of incredulity burst from Mohab. “I may be into impossible missions, but I’m not fond of suicidal ones. And I was almost strip-searched for anything that could even make you sneeze.”
Kamal’s laserlike gaze contemplated Mohab’s mocking grin. “From my reports, you can probably take out my royal guard stripped and with both hands tied behind your back.”
“Ah, you flatter me, King Kamal. I’d need one hand to go through them all.”
The other man’s steady gaze told him Kamal believed Mohab was capable of just that—and more—and wasn’t the least bit fooled by his joking tone. “I have records of some true mission-impossible scenarios that you’ve pulled off. If anyone can enter a maximum-security palace with only the clothes on his back and manage to blow it up and walk away without a scratch, it’s you.”
Mohab’s lips twitched. “If you believe I can get away with your murder, why did you agree to see me?”
“Because I’m intrigued.”
“Enough to risk letting such a lethal entity within reach? You must be bored out of your mind being king.”
Kamal exhaled. “You don’t know the half of it—or how good you have it. A prince who is in no danger of finding himself on a throne, a black-ops professional who had the luxury of switching to a freelance career...emphasis on the ‘free’ part.”
“While you’re the king of a minor kingdom you’ve made into a major one, and a revered leader who has limitless power at his fingertips and the most amazing family a man can dream of having.”
“Apart from my incomparable wife and children, I’d switch places with you in a heartbeat.”
Mohab laughed out loud. “The last thing I expected coming here is that I’d be standing with you, in the heart of Aal Masood territory, with us envying each other.”
“In a better world, I would have offered you anything to have your skills at my disposal and you at my side. Too bad we’re on opposite sides with no way to bridge the divide.”
Mohab pounced on the opening. “That’s why I’m here. To offer not only to bridge that divide, but to obliterate it.”
Kamal frowned. “You deal in extractions, containments and cleanups. Why send you to offer political solutions?”
“I’m here on my own initiative because I’m the solution.”
His declaration was met by an empty stare.
Then Kamal drawled, “Strange. You seem quite solid.” Mohab chuckled at Kamal’s unexpected dry-as-tinder wit, drawing a rumble from Kamal. “I have zero tolerance for wastes of time. If you prove to be one, you will spend a few nights as an honored guest in my personal dungeon.”
“Is this a way to talk to the man who can give you Jareer?”
Kamal clamped his arm. “Kaffa monawaraat wa ghomood...enough evasions and ambiguity. Explain, and fast, or...”
“Put down your threats. I am here to mend our kingdoms’ relations, and there’s nothing I want more than to accomplish that as fast as possible.”
“Zain. You have ten minutes.”
“Twenty.” Before Kamal blasted him, Mohab preempted him. “Don’t say fifteen.”
Kamal’s gaze lengthened. “As an only child you missed out on having an older sibling kick your ass in your formative years. I’m close to rectifying your deficiency.”
Mohab grinned. “Think you can take me on, King Kamal?”
“Definitely.”
And Mohab believed it. Kamal wasn’t a pampered royal depending on others’ service and protection. This man was a warrior first and foremost. That he’d chosen to fight in the boardroom and now in the world’s political arenas didn’t mean he wouldn’t be as effective on an actual battlefield.
Before Mohab made a rejoinder, the king turned and crossed his expansive stateroom to the sitting area. Mohab suspected it was to hide a smile so as not to acknowledge this affinity that had sprung up between them.
Kamal resumed speaking as soon as Mohab took a seat across from him. “So why do you think you can give me Jareer...when I already have it, Sheikh Prince Solution?”
A laugh burst out of Mohab’s depths. That clinched it. He didn’t care that other people thought Kamal scary or boorish. To him, the guy was just plain rocking fun.
Kamal’s lips twisted in response, but didn’t lift.
“There is no law prohibiting an Aal Masood from smiling at an Aal Ghaanem, you know.”
Kamal’s lips pursed instead. “I may issue one prohibiting just that. The way you’re going, you might end up making the dispute between Judar and Saraya even more...insoluble.”
Mohab sighed. “So...Jareer, euphemistically referred to as our kingdoms’ contested region...”
“And currently known as our kingdoms’ future war zone,” Kamal finished.
Not if Mohab managed to resolve this.
Jareer used to be under Saraya’s rule. But the past few Sarayan monarchs had had no foresight. They’d centralized everything, neglecting then abandoning outlying regions. Jareer, on the border with Judar, had always been considered useless, because it lacked resources, and traitorous, because its citizens were akin to “enemy sympathizers.” So when Judar had laid claim to Jareer, with its people’s welcome, Mohab’s grandfather, King Othman, had considered it good riddance.
But when Mohab’s uncle, King Hassan, sat on Saraya’s throne, he’d reignited old conflicts with Judar. His favorite crusade had been reclaiming Jareer. Not because he’d suspected its future importance, but to spite the region’s inhabitants—and because he wanted more reasons to fight the Aal Masoods.
Then, two months ago, oil had been discovered in Jareer. Now the situation had evolved from an idle conflict between two monarchs to a struggle over limitless wealth and power. In a war between the two kingdoms, Saraya would be decimated for generations to come.
Only Mohab had the power