The Sheik’s Captured Princess (The Samara Royal Family Series Book 4) (7 page)

Joline was the newest of the group and still not as cynical as her sisters-in-law.  “You didn’t say or do anything to hurt Ciala, did you?” she asked, looking up at Rais with love in her eyes. 

He lifted his hand, cupping her jaw gently.  “If she’s hurt and we said something, it was completely unintentional, honey.”

She smiled up at him, ignoring the other two who snorted at their brother’s answer.  “I knew you’d be the knight in shining armor.  So you’re going to fix this, right?” she asked him sweetly. 

More snorts came from behind him but he focused all of his attention on his pretty wife.  “I’ll do whatever I can to keep her safe but still give her what she wants.”

Joline stood up on her toes and kissed Rais.  “I knew you were the best,” she said.  She ignored the groans from her brothers-in-law as she made her way out of the office.  “Oh, by the way, I’m flying to London for a discussion with Keith about some fabrics,” she said a moment before the door closed.

Rais was stunned for all of three seconds before his eyes narrowed.  “Like hell,” he mumbled, ignoring the chortles from his brothers as he resumed his seat on the leather couch. 

“You’ve just been ‘handled’, brother-mine,” Ramzi explained.

Rais shook his head.  “She’s not going,” he told her.

“And I’m going to bet that you’re off to see Ciala as soon as you can get away from us,” Turk commented, pouring himself another measure of scotch.

Rais ignored him and poured more for himself.  “You’re just jealous because your wife knows how to manipulate you.”

Ramzi downed his own scotch, then stood up and walked out of his office.  “Mine sure knows how to manipulate me,” he told both of them, but he said it with a grin.  “And I’m off to see how well she’s going to manipulate me tonight.  I’ll fix Ciala’s problem.  I just need to be manipulated,” and he walked out, leaving Turk and Rais in no doubt as to what his evening plans were.

“Damn, he might have something there,” Turk said.

Rais was rubbing his chin, considering his options.  “I think our older brother has some brains in that thick skull of his after all.”

A moment later, both men were off in search of their wives. 

Ciala stood on the steps of the Drakar palace compound, wishing that she wasn’t trembling like a leaf in the winter wind.  Wishing that she’d never thought to schedule those interviews last week.  Wishing she’d….

She took a deep breath.  It was no use.  She was here.  She had to go through with this ridiculous sham if she was going to continue hiding the truth from her brothers.  And she’d have to get through this day, act as if she weren’t as affected by this man as she was.

She damn well was going to get her equipment back!  And all of her research!  She’d spent months getting all of those pictures, doing all of the interviews.  There were dozens of SD cards with so much information on them and she wasn’t going to lose them to this arrogant, pompous, ridiculous excuse for a man! 

She was standing out in the bright sunshine, trying to work herself up into a righteous anger but it wasn’t working well.  In the end, she knew that she was simply terrified of stepping into the entryway. 

And then he was there, standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at her as if he was some sort of god looking down on one of his subjects.  She didn’t like that thought in any way and her chin jutted out with defiance at being viewed as weak. 

Just take the first step, she told herself.  One step at a time and she’d get through this.

But by the time she was standing on the top of the stairs, only a few feet from him, she was still looking up at him and her courage deserted her. 

“You’re nervous,” Jurar stated the obvious. 

Ciala jerked with his statement but refused to acknowledge the truth to him.  “Are you going to give me back my research?  Or are you going to continue to be obnoxious about this?”

He reached out and took her hand, tucking it onto his elbow.  “Let’s discuss the possibilities over dinner, shall we?” he offered, leading her into the palace. 

Ciala looked behind her, needing to know that her guards were following her.  She was actually surprised that one or all of her brothers hadn’t insisted on coming with her.  This seemed like such an outrageous request from a foreign leader.  Of course, she’d visited the homes of other world leaders on her own.  But never under these sorts of circumstances. 

It all seemed somewhat salacious. 

He led her into a beautifully set up salon.  She pulled her hand away when he closed the door behind them.  Alone. 

“What can I get you to drink?” he asked, moving behind a bar. 

“I’ll just have a glass of wine, thank you,” she told him, standing near the exit as if she needed some sort of escape route. 

He noticed and chuckled softly.  “I’m not going to attack you, Ciala,” he told her, pouring the wine and bringing it over to her.  He held his own glass of wine in his hand and clinked them together.  “To a better understanding,” he said. 

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that and the look in his eyes was making her stomach churn.  “What kind of an understanding do you want?”

He shrugged and took her hand, leading her deeper into the room.  “I want to understand you, my dear.  I want to understand how a princess with everything she could possibly want, could be a spy.”

She jerked her hand out of his and glared up at him.  “I told you already.  I’m not a spy.”

He waved a hand at the coffee table where she finally noticed all of her cameras, lenses and SD cards laid out – all of them attached to a computer.  “Prove it,” he told her. 

She looked down at her equipment with longing.  “You’ll give it back to me if I can show you that I’m not a spy?”

He shrugged again.  “If I’m satisfied with your explanation, we’ll discuss terms.”

She wasn’t sure she should trust this man, but she was here, in his home, sent by her brothers as a sort of diplomatic emissary.  She couldn’t tell her brothers why he’d asked for her to come here without revealing her secret research.  Nor could she ignore his summons because he had all of her research in his possession.  The man had her perfectly trapped and he knew it. 

“I considered breaking into this place to retrieve my property,” she told him as she leaned forward and turned on the computer.  She touched her ear, twisting the back of her earring slightly. 

Jurar was amused at that bold statement and noticed her nervous gesture.  “I wish you would have tried,” he told her with a chuckle. 

She looked over her shoulder.  “I think you’re underestimating me,” she told him with a determination she hadn’t felt in a long time.  She would dearly love to bring this man down a notch or two. 

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he replied, then nodded to the computer.  “Show me what you’ve been doing so I can decide if I’m going to let you go or not.”

Her fingers froze over the keys with those words.  “You mean, let my property go, right?” she asked, her mind racing as she realized that this man really didn’t need to let her go.  He could keep her here in this palace, behind locked doors and no one would ever know. 

But no, she thought frantically.  Her brothers wouldn’t let him get away with keeping her here. 

Jurar watched all of the emotions fly over her lovely features and he was once again reminded of how intensely he wanted this woman.  Then her fingers started moving over the keys, her long, slim fingers slipped the first SD card into the slot of the computer and images flashed onto the screen. 

“Here are the issues I’ve been researching,” Ciala explained, a tapered fingernail pointing to the background and the foreground, showing him the various sites she’d photographed.  In less than five minutes, she had him leaning forward, his eyes narrowed as he looked at each of the images with new eyes.  His tech guy had looked through all of the images over the past several days, trying to find some sort of connection between them.  But there were some in populated areas and others in sections of the deserts or mountains that no one was around, some of which he didn’t even know existed. 

As she explained her theory, he had to be impressed.  She really was brilliant, her analysis sharp and concise and her photographs were actually works of art and not just backup to her research.  She hadn’t just taken pictures of the religious sites she’d visited.  She’d instinctively captured images that showed the sun or shade in a beautiful way, hinting at mysticism and giving him clues to her romantic nature. 

By the end of her discussion, he was convinced of two things.  First of all, she wasn’t a spy – at least not for her brothers.  The jury was still out on whether she was a spy for the rebels.   But he was convinced that she really was working on a doctoral thesis.  And secondly, she was brilliant.  She’d understood not only the theological aspect of each of these places but also analyzed the social and cultural norms of the people that visited the sites, analyzing their ages, the village populations, the historical significance of the areas as well as the religious sites, pulled in architectural evidence and tied all of it together into a concise, simple explanation. 

When she’d finished, there was a long silence that filled the room.  She’d finished her first glass of wine and was halfway through her next, completely unaware of him filling the glass once more. 

“So what do you think?” she asked with a bright smile, her brown eyes alight with her enthusiasm over the subject matter as well as an avid listener. 

He watched her, noticed that her smile dimmed ever so slightly with his silence.  She genuinely cared about his opinion and he wanted to tell her that he was impressed, but….

She shifted in her seat, distracting him with her long, sexy legs.  “I still have to write up my theory, but will it work?  Does it have merit?”

Ciala held her breath while she waited for his response.  He’d asked so many questions during her explanation, many of which she’d easily answered but her mind was absorbing the other questions, trying to put them into the overall work she’d already done. 

“Let’s have dinner,” he said and took her hand, pulling her up and leading her into the next room which was just as beautifully decorated as the first one. 

Ciala was startled by the abrupt change in subject and looked behind her at all of her equipment with longing.  She wished she could just pack it up, tell him a polite thank you and walk out the palace doors, never to see the man again. 

She followed and tried very hard to keep her eyes from noticing how very nice his rear view looked as he led her through to the dining room.  His butt was definitely none of her business, she told herself. 

She looked back one more time at her equipment, trying to focus on her work and not the extraordinary physique of the man beside her. 

He noticed her longing look and, thankfully, misinterpreted the glance.  “Don’t worry about that,” he commented.  “No one is going to steal any of it.”

Ciala jerked her eyes back to his, shocked that he’d noticed where she was looking. But then she caught his glance and felt her cheeks turn warm.  He wasn’t talking about his butt!  He was referring to her camera and lenses, all of her disks!  Good grief, she sighed as he held the chair out for her. 

He sat down across from her and, when a servant arrived, she realized how hungry she was.  She’d been too nervous this morning to eat breakfast, knowing that she was about to face this man again.  And she hadn’t had the ability to eat lunch on the short flight over either. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Famished,” she replied quickly, looking at the salad that was placed in front of her with a grimace. 

She heard his laughter and looked up.  “There’s more food on the way,” he told her and picked up his salad fork.  “So tell me how you came up with the idea for your thesis,” he asked. 

They continued to discuss her work over the meal and she got in a few questions back to him.  Overall though, the conversation was him asking her questions and her answering them.  She was very careful in her replies, not wanting to reveal too much about herself.  She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want this man to know her too well.  Maybe it was because he had too much power over her anyway or maybe it was just because she was a private person, not having been in the spotlight much over her lifetime like her brothers had endured from the moment they were born. 

And she’d definitely had too much wine, she thought as the dessert was served.  Leaning back in her chair, she covered her stomach.  “I’m not sure I could eat another bite,” she admitted.

His only response was a dark eyebrow raised in question.  “Tell me about the rebels last week,” he commanded now.

Ciala gasped when the servant placed the chocolate decadence in front of her, completely ignoring his question in deference to the sinful dessert.  “Oh my,” she sighed with happiness.  It was some sort of chocolate mousse cake topped with fresh raspberries and sauce with a dollop of whip cream on the side.  “This looks marvelous,” she breathed. 

A snifter of brandy was brought out and placed beside her elbow and she took a tentative sip.  “This is the perfect combination,” she told him.  The rich chocolate and the smooth, warm brandy were a match made in heaven, she thought. 

Jurar was fascinated by this woman, but he still wanted more information.  “And the rebels?” he prompted. 

“There were three of them,” she told him as she took her first bite of the dessert.  She closed her eyes as the chocolate flavor hit her taste buds, amazed by the creamy flavors. 

“Three friends of yours?”

She laughed.  A few hours ago, she would have been offended by his question but the wine, the dessert, the brandy all combined to make the question seem more humorous than accusatory.  “I’d never seen them before that day.  But I could describe them to you, if that would help you catch them.”  She thought back to that afternoon.  “Actually, I’m not sure if I could describe them.  I was more focused on getting out of that small house.  And berating myself because I’d messed up so stupidly.”

He leaned back in his chair and watched her.  So far, he hadn’t seen any slip of her façade of innocence.  He wanted to believe she was telling him the truth, but his experience had proven that women were never innocent.  They were deceptive, dishonest creatures that lied about anything and everything in order to get what they wanted.  Their goals were sometimes different.  Some women wanted money or the prestige.  Some wanted marriage which he only equated with their desire for a long-term bank account. 

Oh, he got his desires met as well.  And he was more than willing to meet their unspoken wants.  He made sure that every woman left his bed satisfied. 

But he didn’t trust them.

Unfortunately, he wanted to trust this one.  For some reason, her innocent look tapped a long unknown chord inside of him that he’d long forgotten even existed.  He wanted her, no doubt.  But he also wanted her to be innocent.  He wanted her to…

Hell, he wanted her to be real. 

“Thank you for dinner,” Ciala said, trying to pull her hand away.  She could feel the tension in the air, could feel the man’s heated touch all the way down to her toes even though he was only lightly holding her fingers. 

“You’re welcome,” he replied.  “Thank you for sharing your research with me.  I’m impressed.”

Ciala couldn’t hide the swell of happiness at his words.  They were just words, but for some reason, coming from this man, they meant more.  “Thank you.”