Stolen by the Sheik (Black Towers Book 2) (2 page)

Nayo leaned in close, breathing his next words into her ear “I’d love to taste more.” Her whole body shivered and Liv snapped her gaze up to meet his. She slowly tilted her drink toward him, offering it up without a second thought.

“I wasn’t talking about the drink.” Heat coursed through her body at his words. Her breath hitched in her throat as Nayo closed what little distance was left between them. Images of biting that luscious lower lip of his flooded her mind as Liv parted her own in invitation…
Ding! Ding Ding Ding!
“Oh, for fuck’s sake” Liv muttered under her breath, her boss’s incessant text messaging effectively ruining the moment. And she knew it
had
to be her boss. No one else would send her that many messages in a row. Surely enough, she dug her phone out of her purse to find four new messages from Carrie.

O
livia
. You’re late.

T
he meeting is about
to start. If it starts without you, don’t bother coming at all.

Bring me an iced latte. And try not to spill it all over yourself.

WHERE ARE YOU?!

“Shit” Liv quickly flashed the screen toward Nayo. “See, I’m late. I’ve really got to go. It was lovely meeting you, Nayo.”

“You shouldn’t have to put up with such a woman. If you were mine to care for, I wouldn’t allow it.” At first Liv thought he was joking, but the darkness in his eyes made her realize he was very serious. All this talk of providing for, caring for, was suddenly not sounding so bad. ***

“Bomb!” someone yelled from the interior of the building. “Everyone get out. There’s a bomb!”

A loud siren blared from somewhere overhead. The crowded foyer became even more congested, with people shouting and running around in all directions. Someone shoved Liv aside, and she stumbled and fell into Nayo’s arms.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Another Middle Eastern man materialized at Nayo’s side. He had shoulder length wavy hair that he wore pushed back out of his face. His dark brown eyes were almost the exact same color as his hair. His face was covered with a stubble that suggested he hadn’t shaved in a day or two. “
Amir
, we must go.”

“Yes Taz, I think you’re right.”

“Oh my God, someone put a bomb in the building!” a woman shouted.

“Where?” Liv asked.

“Somewhere in that television studio over there.” She pointed to Sunrise Productions a short distance away.

“What is that noise?” Nayo asked, looking around.

“The fire alarm.” Liv straightened and tucked her folders under her arm. “Come on. We have to get out of here.” Liv started for the front revolving door, but there was no way they were getting out that way, it was mass hysteria. Everyone was pushing forward at the same time, and the swinging doors jammed on the influx of people. The handicapped entrance off to one side stood open, but was so small that people were only fitting through one at a time.

“It’s going to blow,” a passing man said.

“We’re never going to get out of here in time,” said another woman.

The other Middle Eastern man, Taz, grabbed Nayo’s shoulder. “There’s too many people. It could be a trap.”

Nayo nodded and took Liv’s hand. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled her away from the commotion.

“Taz knows another way.”

“But security is leading everyone out the front.”

“I’ll protect you.”

“Do you trust him?” she asked.

“With my life.”

Shivers rippled down her spine. The man seemed so confident, so self-assured. His words would make her boss, Carrie, cringe, but to Liv they felt like a breath of fresh air. She didn’t have to think, didn’t have to take charge. All she had to do was follow.

It was damn sexy. Her rational side told her that she didn’t know this man and that he could be leading her into more trouble, not less, but as she put one foot after the other, she couldn’t help but feel that she was making the right decision.

For a few seconds they pushed against the flow of people like salmon swimming upstream, but then Taz turned down a small corridor—one she didn’t even know was there—and took a series of doors toward the back of the building. She didn’t like the feeling of unease that suddenly washed over her. How did these men know the building where she worked better than even her? The deeper they led her into the building, the more her unease grew.

“Are you sure this guy knows where we’re going?” she asked. “It seems as if we are heading toward the danger, not away from it.”

“Sometimes we must wade through the dark in order to see the light,” Taz said.

“Trust us,” Nayo added. “It is better this way.”

She pulled on his hand, forcing him to stop and face her. “How can I trust you two when I don’t even know you?”

“Down here,
Amir
,” Taz said as he disappeared around a corner. “Hurry!”

Nayo glanced at his friend over his shoulder and then refocused on her. “Do you want to try your luck with the chaos in front?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then come.” He grasped her hand once more and pulled her through the hallway.

“How do you know this building so well?” she asked after a few moments. “And slow down. I can’t go that fast in these heels.”

“I just do.” Nayo signaled to his friend and slowed the pace.

“How do I know you aren’t going to hurt me?”

He stopped and turned to face her, his features dark and deadly. “Trust me,
habibti
, if I wanted to hurt you, I already would have.”

Liv swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to meet his gaze. His hard features and tight lips made her think that he had spoken the truth. She had a feeling this was a dangerous man in front of her, which only added to his appeal—and her curiosity.

“Why did you say you were at Black Towers?”

“I didn’t.” He tightened his grip on her fingers and pulled her down the hall.

“Was it to meet someone?”

Nayo steeled his jaw as frustration played out over his features. “Do all American women ask so many questions?”

Liv smiled--she couldn’t help herself--and followed him toward the large ‘Emergency Exit’ sign at the end of the hall. He pushed open the door, and they tumbled out into the bright sunlight. Liv raised her arm up to shield her eyes as they made their way toward to the front of the building.

She could hear the commotion before she could see it. People screaming and crying. Sirens blaring. Police officers barking orders. When they finally rounded the corner from the small side alley onto the main street, they found themselves smack dab in the middle of chaos. It was impressive how fast the emergency teams had responded. The street was already lined with fire trucks, ambulances and police cars.

Red, blue and white lights flashed everywhere you looked. Police officers were busy blocking off the streets within a one-block radius to keep anyone from entering the area. Other officers were busy evacuating the neighboring buildings. A dozen or more men dressed in heavy black uniforms with the word SWAT across their backs started to surround the Black Towers.

People were still pushing their way out the front entrance like a swarm of angry fire ants pouring out of their hive. Some even threw elbows, pulled hair, whatever it took to try and get out the doors faster than the person next to them, and then scattered in every direction as soon as they cleared the building. Doing a complete 360 where she stood, Liv absorbed the scene around her.

“This is surreal. I feel like we’re in a scene out of something from Sunrise Productions.”

“I assure you, it’s very real.” Nayo grabbed her hand and started to pull her toward the police barricades and away from the danger. “I need to get you somewhere where you will be safe.”

They were almost to the yellow tape when Liv felt that familiar tickle building back up in her nose. “Not again.”

Clearly, the white pollen floating through the air like snowflakes didn’t care about bomb threats as it assaulted her allergies. She stopped, pulling her hand from Nayo’s to pinch the bridge of her nose in efforts to stop the sneeze from coming. “What are you doing? We must keep moving.” Nayo said.

“What is the hold up?” Taz asked impatiently.

“Bad. Allergies. Gonna. Sneeze,” Liv spoke, taking deep inhales between each word as the sneeze continued to build.

“I don’t care what it is, I must get you away from here,
Amir.
It is my duty to keep you safe.
Leave the girl behind and let’s go.” Taz’s eyes shot daggers at Liv. Tensions clearly building, Nayo glanced between Taz and Liv, deciding his next move.

“
Habibti,
there is no time for this. Come, now.” Nayo reclaimed her hand and they started to move again, the slight confrontation drawing the attention of a few passerby. It was at this moment that the slowly building sneeze decided to thunder from her nose, the sound drawing all remaining nearby eyes straight to them.“There he is!” Someone yelled. “I saw him plant the bomb!”

Two law enforcement officers turned toward them and started jogging in their direction.

“Ah hell,” Nayo said.

“What is it?”

“This was just what I wanted to avoid.” He tightened his grip on her hand.

“I will stall them,
Amir
,” Taz said, pulling a gun.

“Holy shit!” Liv yelled. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Be careful,” Nayo said to his friend. Taz nodded and turned to face the oncoming law enforcement officers. Nayo tugged on Liv’s hand. “Run.”

“What?” Liv stumbled after him. “Why?”

“Hey you. Stop. This is the police!”

“I said run!” Nayo’s voice was so powerful and commanding. Liv obeyed him before she even realized she was doing it.

“Stop, or we’ll shoot!”

“You will not harm him,” Taz shouted. “He is the prince!”

“Stop!” Liv tugged on his hand, but he held firm and quickened the pace. “Nayo, stop!”The loud popping of gunfire went off behind them. Nayo winced and stumbled as Liv let out an ear-piercing scream.

D
amn
, that hurt.
Nayo turned the corner and leaned up against the brick building as pain blasted through his arm.

“Are you all right?” Liv asked.

Was he? He took mental stock of his body and then looked down at his arm. “Shit.” He wrapped his forearm around his middle and poked at the opening in his jacket.

“Is it bad?” Liv made a face as she looked at the wound. “I hate blood.”

“It’s only a flesh wound.” But one that would need to be cleaned and bandaged. He didn’t think he’d need stitches, but it was hard to tell through his suit jacket.

“What happened back there?”

Good question. Nayo peeked around the corner and saw his friend in a crumpled heap on the ground. Officers were all over him, but it was hard to tell if Taz was alive or dead.

“We need to go,” he said, taking her hand.

“Go?” She shook her head. “We can’t go. We have to turn ourselves in.”

“If we go back to them now, they’ll shoot us.”

“But if we say—“

“They’ll shoot first and ask questions later. Believe me, I know.” He tightened his grip on her fingers. “Take out my phone.”

“What?”

He nodded to his suit jacket pocket, which hung low on his hip. “The phone, take it out. I don’t want to move my arm.” It hurt too damn much, and he didn’t want to move his wounded limb any more than necessary.

Liv glanced down at the jacket and then gently eased her hand into the side pocket. Nayo held his breath as her slender fingers brushed his already too hard groin. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman, too long. Back home, he had any number of women waiting to service him, but in America things were done differently. He was far too busy to spend time chasing women, and to be honest, the emotionless sex had lost its appeal a long time ago. He longed for a connection to a woman, someone who liked him, not the title he could provide or the money in his coffers. Such a relationship was not possible, however. As soon as he went back to his family, he’d be married off to his fiancée, a woman he had only met a handful of times at formal functions, but whose family would send much needed ground troops to help secure his family’s position in power for years to come.

His father depended on this marriage, as did all of the staff working at their home and supporters in the streets. If his family ever was overthrown, not only would the people closest to him die, but the economy in his home country would destabilize, and innocent people would fall victim to some of the more radical Muslim fringe movements.

With so much riding on his marriage, how could he possibly say no? It didn’t matter that he could muster no feelings for this woman, or that their conversations felt stiff and forced. If he had to venture a guess, his fiancée didn’t want this union any more than he did. In fact, he was quite certain she was using this marriage as a way to hide her from her parents the fact that she wasn’t interested in a husband at all. The Arab people were a proud people however, and deeply rooted in tradition. His refusing to marry Deema would not only hurt his family and his country, but her as well. She would be considered an outcast, someone unworthy and ugly. While he would never think of hurting her, others much more rooted in Muslim tradition would make her life a living hell.

So instead of refusing to marry her, Nayo had fled to the Americas, under the guise of business. Despite his work being completed weeks ago, he couldn’t quite bring himself to go back home. Not yet anyway.

“Who are you going to call?” Liv asked, bringing his thoughts back to the moment.

“Help.” He took it from her and dialed his limo driver. As it started ringing, he took Liv’s hand once more and pulled her down the sidewalk. He wasn’t sure why he kept the girl with him, except for the fact that he felt this strange protectiveness of her. He knew that if he let her go back to the police, they would not treat her kindly. Thanks to 9/11 and America’s new homeland security policies, law enforcement had been conditioned to do whatever it deemed necessary to protect the country, and a bomb threat in a major commercial building in a heavy populated city fell under that umbrella. Liv seemed so young and innocent. He didn’t think she’d survive the brutal questioning the police would put her through.

“You’re bleeding,” she observed.

“I know.”

“You need to go to a hospital.”

He snorted. Typical American, wanting to go to the doctor for every paper cut. “I’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“Stop asking questions.” The phone went over to voicemail. Nayo muttered in his native language until the familiar beep signaled the start of a message.

“Where are you? No—forget I asked that. Tell Father I’m fine. I’ll just be going into hiding for a little while. I’ll call again when everything blows over.” He clicked off the phone and gingerly slid it into his pocket.

Liv tugged at the frayed edges of his jacket. “You need to take your clothes off.”

“Excuse me?”

She blushed. “You’re still bleeding and I can’t see the wound. You need to take off your suit coat and jacket so we can see the damage.”

He raised his brow. “Are you sure that there is no other reason why you would want me to take off my clothes?”

She averted her gaze. “Stop it. This is serious. I’m not a nurse, but I think we need to stop the flow of blood. It’s seeping into your clothes.”

“We’ll tend to it later. Right now the police are after us. We need to keep moving.”

“But you look so pale.”

“That has nothing to do with the wound.”

“Then why?”

Stress. Anxiety. He didn’t know this city very well and his closest ally, his limo driver, was MIA. Taz had been taken by the police, and he didn’t know if he was dead or alive. He had nowhere to run, no one to support him in his time of need. To make matters worse, if his father found out about what had happened, he would worry about Nayo’s safety and order him home. Going home meant that he would have to marry and he wasn’t quite ready to do that yet.

“We could go to a hospital,” Liv offered.

“No.” He grabbed her hand and started moving again.

“But—”

“No.” Damn American woman. His father would have an apoplectic fit if he heard her constant questioning. Women in his country didn’t ask questions, they just followed orders.

Perhaps that was why he felt so protective about her. In the few short hours he had known her, Liv had questioned his actions more than all of the women he had known in his life combined. She made him think about not only what he was doing, but why he was doing it. It was both refreshing and annoying and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it except that he didn’t want to let her slip out of his life. At least, not yet.

“Wait.” Liv pulled them into a nearby doorway and let go of his hand. They were stopped in front of a shop of some sort, and the sound of the local news twelve o'clock news program could be heard through the window.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I remembered that I have a scarf in my purse. We can wrap it around your arm and stem the flow of blood." She sniffled and searched around in her purse.

"You’re kidding.” He frowned at her. “Are you okay? Your eyes are red.”

“It’s just allergies. I forgot to take my medication over lunch.”

“Do you have it with you now?”

She sneezed. “It’s in my desk at work.” She sniffled again and pulled out a scarf from her tote. “Here it is.”

“It looks rather feminine.”

She stared at the bright pink scarf for a moment, then looked at him. "Don't worry, it’s only until we get a proper bandage. It’s better than bleeding all over the place, isn’t it?” She moved toward his arm.

“What are you doing?” He jerked away when she touched him.

“Bandaging the wound. Believe me, I don’t want to do this any more than you do, but I’m not walking one step farther until we stop the bleeding.”

“Like I said, it’s a surface wound—”

“And I've seen every episode of
Cops after Dark
. I know how these things work. The person in question thinks that it’s no big deal because they’ve gone into shock.”

“I can assure you—”

“It will only take a minute.” Liv dropped her purse and folded the satiny material. "I was going to use this to cover up my stain, but. . ." She started wrapping his arm.

Pink satin, of all things. If his younger brother, Jamal, ever saw him, he’d never hear the end of it. "There's no time for this."

"You won't be any good to anyone if you bleed out."

He was about to tell her once more that it was only a flesh wound and bleeding out would be next to impossible, but the world began to dip and sway, so he leaned up against the wall for support instead.

He watched her work, and seeing her red head bow down over his arm, studying it and trying to decide how to help him, tugged at something deep inside of him. Back in his country, there had been countless of women who were ready, willing and eager to do the same as this one, although they would perform the task out of duty, not a desire to help. This one looked so sweet, with her bottom lip in between her teeth. He didn't remember when someone had ever done something out of kindness for him, not duty. He supposed his mother was the only other one, but he didn’t have many memories of her, as she had died during childbirth with his younger brother.

He winced when she pulled the scarf too tight.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm not used to doing this."

"I can tell." When she flashed him a frown, he chuckled. "But I appreciate the effort," he added.

She returned her attention to the wound. "How did you know of the side entrance?" When he didn't immediately answer, she curled the edges of the scarf around the wound and tied it to the opposite end. "To Black Towers,” she clarified.

“Doesn’t everyone know it?”

“I've worked there for about ten months and I didn't know of the exit.”

"It’s in the evacuation plan."

“The what?”

“The evacuation plan. The map above the fire alarm that tells people where to go during an emergency.”

“You read that?”

He frowned. “Of course, doesn’t everyone?”

She chuckled. “No.”

“Oh.” It seemed a rather fundamental thing, really. All of his life, Nayo had been acutely aware of exits and mentally preparing in case of an emergency. Before he had even entered Black Towers, Taz had instructed him on all hiding places and exits, as well as what to do if they should come under attack. Always knowing the escape routes was a way of life in the Middle East and it boggled his mind that Americans didn’t do the same. Unfortunately, neither one of them ever considered the possibility of Taz getting killed and Nayo going on the run.

For fifteen years Taz had guarded Nayo with his life. When his father and stepmother forbid him to go to America, saying that it was too dangerous, Taz empathized with Nayo and offered to go with him as his protection. Only Taz knew all about Nayo’s reluctance to marry and his desire to shed the old and outdated traditions of his country. They had similar views on religion, politics, and life in general. Nayo was much closer to Taz than his brother, Jamal, who was becoming more and more set in Muslim extremism every year. While Nayo had become more modernized, Jamal had become more radical. His hatred for the western world and all it stood for ran deep, much to everyone’s dismay.

Taz had understood and felt Nayo’s pain over the rift that had grown in his family. He was more than a bodyguard. He was a comfort and confidant. Nayo wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do without him.
Don’t die on me, Taz. Please.

Liv stepped back and admired her handiwork. "There." She glanced up at him. "I think it will hold well enough until we can get you to a doctor."

Nayo blinked back tears and straightened. "I don't need a doctor."

Suddenly, ominous music came from the store window, where a selection of television sets sat on display. "We have a breaking news story of a bomb threat at the Black Towers down town,” a news anchor said. “Wendy is on the scene with the latest. Wendy?"

"Hi Frank. I'm standing outside the Black Towers, where thirty minutes ago two men were spotted placing a duffle bag inside of the television studio on the first floor. When security confirmed it was a bomb, they evacuated the building. During the evacuation, two men of Arab descent were spotted fleeing the scene with a female hostage. When law enforcement tried to stop them, they opened fire. It is not clear at this point if the men in the footage and the men fleeing the scene are one in the same, but their actions when confronted by the police have placed them as the top suspects."

Nayo glanced sideways at Liv, who widened her eyes at the screen.

“They’re lying,” she said. “We never shot anyone.”

“Taz might have. I don’t know.” Things had happened so fast, but Nayo wouldn’t put it past Taz to do something crazy like fire at a bunch of armed men in order to give Nayo time to escape.

“Was anyone hurt?” the anchor, Frank, asked.

“One of the Arab men was shot and is in critical condition. He en route to the hospital. He will be questioned by police as soon as he is stable. As far as we know, no police officers were hurt in the shooting.”

"Do we have the identity of the men or the hostage?"

"Not of the men, but the woman is an employee of
Elite!
who works in the building. We interviewed her boss, Ms. Carrie Russell, and this is what she had to say. . ."

The tall woman who had treated Liv so poorly in the foyer was sobbing for the camera and telling the world about Liv’s virtues.

"Now
there
is a liar," he said.

"Her job is to spin words. She's good at what she does." Liv nodded at the television screen. "This is not good, is it?"

"No." He pressed his lips together in thought. He needed to hide out somewhere and digest what had happened, perhaps plan his next move. A hard thing to do with the entire Los Angeles police force looking for him.

"I don’t understand. Why would they make assumptions without facts? I thought that they were reporters. You didn’t plant that bomb and you didn't kidnap me." She turned to face him. "Did you?"