Читать книгу Desire In The Desert: Sheikh's Rule - Ryshia Kennie - Страница 15

Chapter Seven

Kate looked at her watch. “I feel like we should have something substantial to move on but yet if it were like any other case...” Her voice trailed off.

“But it’s not,” he said. “Especially the way it’s been going. They’re not following a norm. Two demands for money. You know that’s not normal or, at least, standard behavior.”

“They’re not rushed. They feel like they have time. That’s a good thing.”

He didn’t reply as he stood at the window, the same one he’d stood at all those hours ago after he’d first received the news of Tara and while he’d waited for his brothers. He was pulled to the window, and had been throughout the evening, to the lights of Marrakech that seemed to lead him beyond and to the outside of the city. But there was no promise of answers. All he could see was a memory, Tara’s face—smiling, happy. But all that had vanished. Instead she was in jeopardy. He tried to focus on the city, on taking his mind elsewhere and in that way relaxing enough to possibly come up with another angle—an idea that had yet to be considered.

He turned, looked to the right at the lights of the more modern city center and business hub. Then his gaze moved to where the ancient beginnings of Marrakech lay, taking in the labyrinth of tight streets and passageways, where businesses and residences hid behind ancient walls and where tourism and local shopping blended easily with snake charmers and tattoo artists.

The art and culture that crowded the narrow streets came from a heritage they all shared, from beginnings somewhere deep in the heart of the wind and sun-carved desert. It was a place of mystery and charm and one that hid the good as easily as it hid the bad.

His grip tightened on the window ledge. This was doing no good at all. For it was from the country’s heart that Tara had been taken.

“Emir? What is it?”

Kate’s voice had that caress, subtle, unintentional, but it reached to the heart of who he was, to places he hadn’t let anyone in, in a very long time.

He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t bear the sympathy he told himself he knew she was feeling. She didn’t understand—couldn’t—for, no matter how well intentioned, to her, Tara was just a case. She couldn’t be anything else, for Kate didn’t know her. They’d never met. “Nothing. Get some sleep while you can.”

“I already tried that, didn’t work.”

He could hear her moving quietly in the darkness. Only the wafting scent of coconut combining oddly with the faint scent of myrrh alerted him that she was near. He didn’t know how it had come to be, that the scents of his homeland seemed such a part of her.

And then she was beside him. “It’s beautiful even at night.”

He said nothing. There was nothing to say.

“She’s not just a case,” she said as the moments of silence turned into minutes. “Not to me. Not like you think.”

He started. How had she read his mind? She lay a hand over his where it rested on the ledge. She’d done that before, but this time heat seemed to run through his core, connecting them in a way he was unable to analyze, wanting him to turn to her to...he pulled his hand away.

He was torn. Worry for Tara, fury at her captors and now the conflicted feelings toward Kate. He had to get it together and that meant focusing on something completely different.

There were hours before they could move into action but, in the meantime, they needed to set safeguards in place. He picked his phone up and turned it over. “It’s our only contact with them—the pigs who have Tara.” He put the phone down. “I don’t like the idea of leaving it...of trusting...”

“Zafir will be fine,” Kate assured him. “They’ll never know it’s not you. And we’ll be in touch.” She looked at her watch. It was only 7:55 p.m.

“How do you know he won’t slip? That—”

“You’re not giving him credit.”

He shook his head. “Zafir’s good, but this is Tara we’re talking about. Any one of us could break under the pressure. We—”

“Stop.” Her shoulder brushed against his. “I’d work with any of you in a heartbeat. And in a case like this, the most important one you’ll ever work, no one’s going to mess up.” She looked at him and he knew she could see the doubt in his face. He couldn’t hide it. He’d never doubted any of their abilities before, but it had never mattered so much.

“Zafir is good,” she repeated. “You know that. And I can vouch for him. I’ve read some of the cases he was involved in.” She smiled. “Despite the talk—he’s good.”

Emir turned to face her. She’d taken the elastic out of her hair and now her long, straight, blond locks hung loose and soft, framing her face and skimming well past her shoulders.

“Interesting, your brother.”

“What do you mean?”

“The rumor is that he’s always got a romance going. Most recently a model. Gorgeous redhead.” She laughed.

“Office talk?” He frowned. He abhorred gossip.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I was trying to lighten the mood. Inappropriate, I know...”

He glanced down and saw that she wove her fingers together—long, delicate fingers. Sensitive fingers, Tara might have said, but Tara had always been an intuitive sort. Is, he reminded himself. They’d find her.

“Emir, listen.”

She shifted, her hair gleaming in the gentle, low light of the reading lamps. Again the delicate scent, the combination that was so uniquely her, wafted from her and seemed to overwhelm him, to make him more aware of her than he wanted or needed to be.

“I’m listening,” he said.

She looked up at him. “I feel like there’s something eluding us.”

“So let’s go over it again—what we know,” he said with relief to be doing something.

She leaned against the desk.

He leaned back against the window ledge. “I don’t know what we could have missed. She was taken by one, maybe two, men outside the gates, but we know there were others involved.”

“If two of them died this afternoon, how many are left?” Kate asked as if the attack had been no more traumatic than a trip to the grocery store.

“What are you suggesting?”

“That there are no others.” She shrugged. “I know that sounds unrealistic, impossible even, but we have to explore every option.”

“That isn’t an angle we’ve even considered.”

“There hasn’t been a demand in hours. Since the attack...” Her words hung in the silence between them, which seemed dark and treacherous now that the disturbing alternative had been presented.

“I don’t think it’s possible.” The truth was that he didn’t want to think it was possible since it brought forth so many other options. But that wasn’t who he was; he had to go there—to explore possibilities that were difficult to consider.

“That she’s out there in the night...” His voice threatened to break. He took a deep swallow and breathed out the last word, and it almost broke him. “Alone.”

He pushed away from the window and began pacing the room. He stopped as he faced the window again, his thoughts focused on the terror of that one thought. It was more horrific than anything that had come before. A shudder ran through him, deep and agonizing. He couldn’t imagine his baby sister alone, possibly terrified.

“She’s tough,” Kate said. “That was clear in everything I’ve read. And, truly, what I said earlier, I’m sorry. I’ve only added more worry by introducing the possibility.”

“Don’t be.” He cut her off, hearing the gravel edge of emotion in his voice.

“I doubt very much if it’s true. There’ll be another demand. Those men might be a splinter group or part of the main group who wanted you out of the picture for whatever reason, and me, as well. I think both those explanations hold more validity than my other theory.”

“We can’t discount anything.”

“And definitely not the fact that they’re going to be demanding more money. Three hundred and fifty thousand, considering what your family is worth, isn’t a lot for all the trouble they’re going to. They seem to know you won’t call the authorities.” She cleared her throat. “And having said that, ignore my last hypothesis—that there are no others. It doesn’t fly.”

“You’re right.” He took a breath. “But why are they taking their sweet time to demand more?”

“To put you on edge. Which will obviously give them an advantage. You are kept guessing, the stress of waiting, of inertia, wears you down.”

He knew she was right about everything but the thought of Tara alone, left in the desert to find her own way out or die. Once that idea had been introduced, he knew it would be almost impossible to dispel.

“I think our original theory that they are a group who, for some reason, started acting against each other is far more plausible,” Kate said. “Forget my earlier musings. I was thinking aloud, exploring possibilities.”

There was something intuitive about her; a calming presence that put him off balance and made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her.

“Emir?”

He pushed the inappropriate thought from his mind and gave her his full attention.

“It was a theory that probably isn’t very plausible. Hopefully we’ll have more information, a direction, before we hit the road. If not, we get moving, anyway. With any luck, by this time tomorrow, this will be over—or...” She hesitated. “Or at least close.”

Silence hung between them for a minute then two.

“Do you think they meant to keep you from leaving Marrakech and following them?” Kate asked as she mulled over the profiles of the deceased pair of attackers.

“By attempting to kill me or, more appropriately, us?” He could hear the amusement in his voice. If it hadn’t been about Tara, he would have enjoyed sparring with her—going over the theories, discounting them, coming up with new ones.

“I don’t think they expected me or Dell. And when they realized you weren’t alone, it all fell apart.” She stood, paced the length of the office.

“So, opening fire at the edge of airport property was to threaten the family.”

“Exactly. You were the one who would go after them. They knew that.”

“And Faisal or any of the others wouldn’t?”

“Faisal is an ocean away. Zafir is more apt to play their game and, of course, Talib will agree with Zafir. He usually does.” She smiled. “Not that Talib doesn’t have his own mind, but he tends to think much like Zafir.” She looked at him. “Whereas you? You will play to a point but it won’t stop you from going after her. You’re more like Faisal than you know.” She smiled. “You’re wondering how I know that.”

“Am I?”

“I’ve studied many of the agency’s past cases and I’ve spoken to Adam. I might not be completely right, but I think I’m close. As far as Talib is concerned?” She put a finger to her chin as if considering. “Middle child. I filled in the blanks—classic.”

“Assumption,” he said with a pained attempt at a smile. “But impressive.”

“And you? Oldest child, responsibility of raising a younger sibling foisted on you at a young age. Serious. Determined. In charge. Textbook.”

“So this was all about getting me out of the way?” he asked and couldn’t kill the sarcasm in his voice. “The theory must seem like overkill, even to you.”

“Maybe. Or maybe not,” she said. “Think about it.”

There were so many different angles in any kidnapping case and because it was Tara, there seemed even more. The silence since the last call they’d received from the kidnappers terrified him, not for himself but for Tara. She was everything and it was up to him to make sure she came back, for their family was nothing without her.

“Emir...” Kate began, her hand reaching for his.

He shook his head. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d felt any lower, any more desperate. It was an out-of-control feeling that terrified him and he knew he had to get it together.

He looked at Kate and wished that he hadn’t. He couldn’t handle the compassion in her beautiful eyes. Her lips were slightly parted and seemed to offer the only chance at hope he had in this dark and dreadful night.

He leaned down and, as his lips met hers, he felt the power of what the two of them were and had proved only a few hours ago. Now he felt a different power, the power of where her soft lips could take him, where the taste of her could lead, where... He drew back, leaving the kiss as only a sweet meeting, a gentle caress, leaving the potential behind.

“I’m...” He wasn’t sure what he’d been about to say. His emotions were playing with his logic and all he wanted to do was to kiss her again. He shoved the feeling back. The life-and-death adrenaline rush had awoken another primitive need, nothing more.

But as he turned his back to her and faced the city, the haunting tones of the call to prayer began. The ancient notes pierced the silence and taunted the occupants of that one room in the Al-Nassar compound with the reminder of how life was so much more important than the moments that defined it.

And worse, that time was slipping away.