“Why?”
“Could have something to do with the fact that my first, albeit distant, act was to fire every single person who worked for my uncle. Regime changes are rough.”
“Is this a...hostile takeover?”
“No. I am the rightful heir. My uncle is dead.”
“I’m sorry.” Her manners were apparently bred into her strongly enough that they came out even in the middle of a crisis of this magnitude.
“I’m not. My uncle was the worst thing to happen to Al Sabah in its history. He brought nothing but poverty and violence to my country. And stress between us and neighboring countries.” His dark gaze swept over her. “You are unfortunate enough to have become a pawn in the paradigm shift. And I have yet to decide how I will move you.”
CHAPTER TWO
FOR ONE MOMENT, Zafar almost felt something akin to sympathy for the pale woman standing in front of him. Almost.
He had no time for emotions like that. More than that, he was nearly certain he had lost the ability to feel them in any deep, meaningful way.
He’d spent nearly half of his life away from society, away from family. He’d had no emotional connections at all in the past fifteen years. He’d had purpose. A drive that transcended feeling, that transcended comfort, hunger, pain. A need to keep watch over Al Sabah, to protect the weakest of his people. To see justice served.
Even at the expense of this woman’s happiness.
Fortunately for her, while he imagined she would be delayed longer than she would like, he had a feeling their ultimate goals would be much the same. Seeing her back to Tariq would be the simplest way to keep peace, he was certain. But he had to figure out how to finesse it.
And finesse was something he generally lacked.
Brute force was more his strength.
“I don’t like the idea of that at all,” she said. “I’m not really inclined to hang around and be moved by you. I want to go home.” She choked on the last word, a crack showing in her icy facade. Or maybe the shock was wearing off. It was very likely she’d been in shock for the past few days.
He remembered being in that state. A blissful cushion against the harsh reality of life. Oh yes, he remembered that well. It had driven him out into the desert and the searing heat had hardly mattered at all.
He hadn’t felt it.
He was numb. Bloody memories blunted because there was no way he could process them fully. Deep crimson stains washed pink by the bone-white sun.
If she was lucky, she was being insulated in that way. If not...if not he might have a woman dissolving in front of him soon. And he really didn’t have the patience for that.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
“Right. War. Et cetera.”
“You were listening. Now, hold that thought while I go and set up a tent. Can you do that? And can you also not wander off?”
“I don’t have a death wish,” she said. “I’m not about to wander off into the desert at night. Or during the day. Why do you think I haven’t escaped?”
“That begs the question how you were taken in the first place.” He took the tent, rolled up and strapped to the back of his horse, and walked over the outcrop of rock. He would hide them from view as best as he could.
Jamal and his men were hardly the only thieves, or the only danger, they could face out in the desert.
“I was on a desert tour. Of the Bedouin camps in Shakar. On the border.”
“So my people went into Shakar to take you?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“You are damned lucky they knew who you were.” He didn’t like to think of the fate she might have met otherwise.
“My ring,” she said. “It gave me away. It was part of the Shakari crown jewels.” She flexed her fingers, bare now. “They kept that. But then, they would be pretty bad thieves if they didn’t.”
“Fortunate you had it,” he said. “Odd they did not produce it as proof.”
Pale eyes widened, panic flaring in their depths. “But you must know about me,” she said. “You must know that Tariq planned to marry soon. I would imagine even base intelligence would have brought you that bit of information.”
“An alliance that pertains to the political, I believe,” he said.
“Yes. And he loves me.”
“I’m sure he does,” Zafar said dryly.
“He does. I’m not fool enough to think that my connections have nothing to do with it, but we’ve been...we’ve been engaged for years. Distantly, but we have spent time together.”
“And you love him?”
“Yes,” she said, tilting her chin up, blue eyes defiant. “I do. With all my heart. I was looking forward to the marriage.”
“When was the marriage to take place?”
“A few months yet. I was to be introduced to his people, our courtship to be played out before the media.”
“But your courtship has already taken place.”
“Yes. But you know...appearances. I mean, that’s the whole point of not taking me straight back to Shakar, isn’t it? Appearances. You don’t want Tariq to know your people, or by extension, you were involved in this. And you don’t want to appear weak. You don’t want people to know it happened on your watch.” She nodded once, as if agreeing with herself. “That’s a big part of it, isn’t it?”
“I haven’t had a single day in the palace yet. I don’t want to be at the center of a scandal involving a kidnapped future sheikha of a neighboring country, so yes, you’re right.”
“I see.”
“What is it you see, habibti?” he asked, the endearment flowing off his tongue. It had become a habit to call women that. Because it was easier than remembering names. Safer, in many ways. It kept them at a distance and that was how he preferred it.
Life in the desert, on the move, made it difficult to find lovers, but he had them in a few of his routine stops. A couple of widows in particular Bedouin camps, and a woman in the capital city who was very good at supplying him with necessary information.
She squinted, pale eyes assessing him. “That this is a threat to you personally.”
“I am not the most well-liked man in Al Sabah. Let’s just say that. This is an issue when one means to rule a country.”
It was the understatement of the century. If he had been recognized anywhere in the city while his uncle was in command, his life would have been forfeit. His exile had been under the darkest of circumstances, and since then, he’d hardly done anything to improve his standing, particularly with those loyal to his uncle.
His loyalty was to the Bedouins. To ensure they never suffered because of his uncle’s rule, and without him, they would have. No medical, no emergency services of any kind. His uncle had put them at the mercy of foreign aid while taxing them with particular brutality.
They had become Zafar’s people.
And now...now somehow he had to assume the throne and unite Al Sabah again, redeem himself in the eyes of the people in the cities while not losing the people in the desert.
And without incurring the wrath of the Sheikh of Shakar.
Not a tall order at all.
“It doesn’t really make me feel all that good about