Chapter 17—Sheiks IX by CJ
School didn’t feel right. Being with her friends didn’t feel right. Nothing had felt right since Emir had left.
Jenny moped back from class toward the parking lot. She didn’t even remember what she had learned. In fact, she didn’t even remember what she had learned all week. This school thing just wasn’t working for her and she wondered how she would make it another four years and maintain her sanity.
When she returned to her townhome, she was reminded of yet another thing she had to endure—John’s party tonight!
She bit her lip as she played the message from his campaign manager telling her the limo would be by at 7:00 to pick her up and to please wear something dazzling, yet conservative. She rolled her eyes. She knew how to dress for a party, even a political party.
She took her time getting ready. She was alone in the house, her roommate still in class tonight until late. She missed the hustle and bustle of Villa Serena and the Kumar Palace. She missed the sounds of the ocean in Northern Johar. She missed Emir. She hated her current life.
The limo arrived right on schedule and she held her black cashmere shawl tightly around her shoulders. It matched her little conservative black dress. Her hair was down and the curls tamed, held in check by a pearl clip. Around her neck she wore a string of pearls and of course the necklaces Emir had given her. They never came off. They were long enough, however, to hide beneath the collar of her dress so as not to clash with her pearls.
The hotel was in downtown San Francisco. Posh, sophisticated and insanely expensive. She was delivered to the front drive of the hotel and cameras snapped as she exited and was met by John Banes. He smiled, practiced, she thought, and held her hand as they walked inside. There, he halted next to a young man and smiled proudly as he said, “Christian, I believe you know my daughter, Jenny.”
Christian Todd turned and grinned down at Jenny. It was a smile she had known for so long. A smile she had once thought she loved. Now, it was a smile that gave her pause for something wasn’t entirely real about it.
“Of course. Jenny, darling, how are you doing this evening?” Christian said as he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss upon her cheek.
The cameras flashed and Jenny forced a smile though she was dying inside.
**
The email was waiting for him and Emir scowled as he downloaded the picture. Had he not had a horrible time dealing with all sorts of work issues the day and night before and had he not been thousands of miles away from Jenny, perhaps he wouldn’t have taken it to heart so badly. But when he saw the handsome American, the boy who had starred in so many films, kissing Jenny, Emir lost it a bit. She was radiant looking, dressed in conservative black, her hair curling perfectly about her shoulders. And nowhere to be seen in the pictures were the necklaces Emir had given her. The necklaces she had sworn never to take off!
Without thinking and acting very uncharacteristically, Emir knocked the computer monitor to the floor. Glass shattered, electrical currents hissed and fizzed. Smoke poured from the mangled parts. And standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face was their king.
“Bad morning?” Razi drawled as he strolled in, seemingly unfazed by the mess on the floor.
“You could say that,” Emir snapped.
“You do know computers don’t grow on trees around here,” Razi said, eyeing the mess. “I’m going to have to send someone into Kumar to get a new one and Kumar hasn’t exactly been generous with its border lately.”
“I’ll do it. I’m sorry,” Emir said, his tone much more controlled than before.
Razi was silent for a moment then he said with some concern, “If you weren’t one of
“Tell me I was a fool for falling for someone so young. Tell me I was stupid to think she’d love me from a distance for longer than a week.”
“I won’t tell you that. I’d be the last person to give anyone advice on love. You know that.”
Emir countered. “You have Anika now.”
“Yes, now. But how long did it take me to get that right?”
Emir looked at the floor. He wasn’t the kind of man to throw tantrums. He wasn’t the kind of man to sulk. But he also was a man who had never had his heart smashed before.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Emir finally said. Then he caught sight of Anika’s friend by the pool again. The blasted woman sat out there every damned day, taunting every man in the palace with her perfectly sculpted body.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
**
Rafee had seen Marcus kiss Shawna by the stables. He had seen it and wished he hadn’t. That image was still seared into his memory, even after the intense work-out he’d put himself through. Hours in the gym, running on the treadmill, lifting weights and pounding a punching bag. The work-out had gotten rid of the jealous edge he was feeling, but it had not completely calmed him.
He trudged up the stairs to their suite of rooms and found the master bedroom empty. He crossed through the connecting bathroom and quietly opened the children’s door. Alexi was asleep in his crib and Shawna was sitting next to Kess in her bed and reading a book. Kess was almost asleep and Shawna paused a moment to smile up at Rafee. He smiled back, then closed the door and turned on the shower.
Now he was calm. His family calmed him. Shawna’s reassuring smile calmed him. He had no reason to be jealous of the man that had left their lives, probably for good.
He showered and by the time he had finished and dressed for bed in a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, Shawna was sitting in bed reading a book. He didn’t bother to ask her which murder mystery she was devouring now. Books rarely interested him unless they were on new computer technology or military tactics. He’d rather invent his own scenarios for murder rather than read someone else’s.
He crawled into bed, exhausted, finally, and as soon as he was settled, Shawna dropped a large manila envelope on his chest.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“It’s from Marcus. He left it for you. He also left today. Kissed me good-bye. Thought you should know. He won’t kiss me again, though. So don’t get jealous. Oh, and now you and the Senator should be even.”
Shawna went back to reading her book, never once having looked away from it to begin with, and Rafee sat up and opened the envelope.
Pictures with dates spilled out. An investigator’s photo-copied notes were also inside. And what Rafee saw made him laugh. Finally, Shawna’s attention was drawn away from her book.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I think this definitely evens the score,” Rafee drawled as he held up pictures of Senator John Banes locked in an intimate embrace in a hotel room with a woman who wasn’t his wife. “He’s been carrying on for over a year, it seems. Someone’s been watching him closely. Do you think he’ll run for President now?”
“I don’t think he has much choice now. Especially since that information happened to fall into your hands,” Shawna said.
Rafee leaned over and kissed his wife. He didn’t care now that Marcus had kissed her good-bye earlier. In fact, as soon as she had explained everything to him, he had lost any jealous feelings. Shawna was his, plain and simple, and no kiss from a former lover would change that.
Rafee was hopping out of bed with a gleeful smile.
“Where are you going?” Shawna demanded.
“To send off a little email. I think the Senator should make his announcement canceling his race for office as soon as possible.”
**
John had set her up. Jenny was furious. She had been all last night and now all day today. She hated that Christian Todd had been at that party and that he had been seated right next to her. And because there had been so many important political leaders at that party, she had had no choice but to dance with Christian and talk with him and smile politely when John had introduced them as a couple.
Even Christian had made several illusions to he and Jenny being a couple and when the night had finally ended and Jenny was out of sight of the political players, she’d told Christian how it was.
“It’s good to see you again, Christian,” she’d said, “but if you think there is any sort of future for us, think again. We can be friends and friends only.”
“But your father said…”
“My father?” Jenny had nearly shouted. “My father is not my father. He might have given me my DNA, but he did not raise me. And I happen to be engaged, or getting real close to becoming engaged, to a military officer in Johar.”
Christian had frowned at that. “So I heard. How could you ever be happy there?”
Jenny had flashed back to the peaceful beaches of Johar’s north shore and the kindness of the people there and she had wondered how she could ever be happy in the life she had led before knowing that.
“How can I not be happy there?” she’d asked back. Then she’d grabbed her shawl, wrapped it around her shoulders and said, “Good-bye, Christian.”
That was last night, and she had called all morning to Johar and been told several times that Emir was not available. She worried over that. When had he not been available to take her calls? Never. So what was wrong?
**
Senator John Banes sat at his stately desk at his San Francisco office and quickly glanced through his emails. Most were from prominent friends thanking him for last night’s party. He smiled. He should be thanking them, they had given so much money toward his campaign they had actually paid for the party.
Then he ran across an email from Prince Rafee Armanjani and he frowned. What did this man want and how in the hell had he gotten this email address?
When he opened the email and saw the picture that was attached, he blanched. How…when…where? How had anyone known about the affair? He’d been so…discreet.
His secretary rang him at that moment, and announced that a Prince Rafee Armanjani was here to see him and he physically shook with dread. How had his life gone from bad to worse over night? How?
The prince was dressed in a crisp blue suit, designer of course, and he pulled off the look as well as he pulled off the look of a thug. The only thing that detracted from his elegance was the mean scar on his face.
He smiled smugly as he walked forward and dropped an envelope on the desk. Then he sat casually in one of the leather chairs across from the desk and said, “I made you copies, Senator, for your scrapbook. Of course, I doubt you’ll share them with your wife. Or…does she already know?”
John could only sit there and pale. He had been defeated somehow, someway, and he didn’t understand how it could have happened.
“The way I figure it,” Rafee said easily as he leaned forward toward the desk, “is that we’re even now. You spill Nikash’s secret, I spill yours. And really, in the end, who would be more hurt by it all? Us or you? I think you.”
“You…you can’t tell anyone, Prince Rafee. Please,” John said, hating that he was pleading. Rafee had never pleaded when the news of his nephew had been spilled. No, he had only threatened. John doubted the man had ever begged or pleaded for anything in his life.
“Fine. But I want something in return for my silence,” Rafee bargained.
Of course he would bargain, he was a snake, a ruffian, a man who had taken down more trained agents than John could keep track of. Finally he had been told no more would be sent and so he’d called Marcus. And Marcus had…no, Marcus wouldn’t have given any sort of information to Rafee, would he?
“First of all, I want you to keep quiet forever, the information on Nico. I know you sent Marcus to get it and I know he won’t say a word. He never would, he loves my wife. You should have considered that before you sent him to kill me too,” Rafee said and suddenly John paled at the thought that something had happened to his nephew. After all, he hadn’t heard from Marcus in two days, not since he’d sent him after Rafee.
“You didn’t…where is Marcus?” John suddenly demanded.
Rafee lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. He hung around the estate for a night, then left. More than likely he’s on his way back home or onto another war in some dreadful third-world country.”
John nodded with relief. Marcus had always been the son he’d never had. So heroic, so humorous and lately so guarded and distant. Rafee coming back to life had torn Marcus apart, but he would survive and he would recover because he was strong.
“Fine. What else do you want, Rafee?” John asked weakly.
“I want you to take Emir Sabet’s name off your watch list. He’s no terrorist and he loves your daughter. Learn to live with it and let Jenny lead her own life.”
John considered those words for a moment, then looked down at the very compromising pictures Rafee had in his possession.
“Now that I won’t be running for President, I guess I won’t really care if she dates Emir or not. He’ll have no impact on me now,” John conceded.
Rafee nodded and began to stand. John, however, found some inner strength to blurt out, “I want something in return as well, Prince Rafee.”
“What?” the man asked.
“I want you to never show these pictures to anyone. Not to Tara, not to Jenny, not to your brother.”
“I won’t show them to anyone as long as you keep your word, Senator. Remember, it’s much easier to have the Armanjanis on your side, than against you. Good day, sir.”
With that, he was gone and so was the Senator’s bid for President.
**
If anyone had found it strange that she was leaving for Kumar with her children, they didn’t say. But it was time for her to return home and face old ghosts. She’d tried to hide out at Villa Serena, she’d tried to assuage her pain by making love with another man and nothing had worked. Now, it was time for Aria to return home.
The storm had left and the skies were clear. Her daughter Lila and her son Kareem were both busy looking out the windows of the private jet and not once did they notice her pain. Yet yesterday, for a few hours, her pain had been lessened by a man she didn’t even know.
Of course, in her mind, she’d been making love to Aasim again. Surely, Marcus had been making love to Shawna. But whoever they had envisioned in their mind’s eye, they had made love to each other, passionately, proficiently, urgently, and then parted without a word. Marcus had simply kissed her head, hugged her closely and then left. The rain had still been falling outside and Aria had taken her time putting on her shoes and still damp jacket and when she’d finally emerged from the stables, Marcus had been gone.
Would she ever see him again? She didn’t know.
Did she ever want to see him again? She didn’t know.
They didn’t know one another, they had no common history. Would it even matter if they ever saw one another again? More than likely not. But somehow, what had happened in that barn had healed her and given her the strength to return home and face her past and her future without her husband.
**
Katarina Wellington was certainly beautiful. Emir had asked her to accompany him on his drive to Kumar and she had readily agreed. Apparently life in Johar, even at the palace, was growing boring for her.
They didn’t have much to talk about as they sped across the desert toward the border. Emir had gone because crossing the border for him was easier than other military officers. He was already known by the Kumarian military and he was known to have close ties with the royal family. Because of that, it was easy for him to get permission to enter Kumar.
Katarina didn’t seem impressed by that. In fact, little seemed to impress her. She did, however, seem thrilled at the prospect of shopping in Kumar and so Emir took her to the downtown area that had either suffered little damage during the war or the newly rebuilt areas of the city. He was nothing more than her bag boy and he rolled his eyes at each new item she purchased.
“You find this entertaining?” Emir had finally asked her as he sat in the plush chair at the Valentino store and watched her try on dress after dress.
Katarina wore a slinky black thing with no back and barely any skirt. Her legs went on for miles and people in the store stopped to gawk at her. She was stunning, but as for having any sort of personality, well, that was still debatable.
She leaned over him, exposing a good portion of her cleavage to him and her backside to the rest of the store and kissed him squarely on the mouth.
“Does that tied you over for now, Emir?” she cooed and he frowned.
“Frankly, no. And you’re exposing yourself horribly, Katarina,” he replied wanting to wipe her kiss off his mouth for he just knew she’d left lipstick on his lips.
“You are a bore, Emir,” she said as she stood and returned to the mirror. “I hear you have a girl in
“Nothing to tell,” he grumbled as he recalled the picture of Jenny and Christian Todd locked in an embrace together. That picture had just recently been taken. It wasn’t old, it was brand new and he was jealous as hell.
Katarina turned away from the mirror and her face was a wicked smile.
“Well then,” she purred as she straddled him on the chair. “What do you say we stay in Kumar for the night? We could have fun. Johar is such a boring place, I don’t know how Anika stands it.”
“Anika has a husband. I’m sure he keeps her more than occupied,” Emir replied.
Katarina laughed at that. “Oh, yes. I’m positive Razi is capable of doing just that. But what about you, Emir? Hmmm? Are you as…capable?”
Never in his life had Emir been confronted by such a blatantly sexual woman. It almost made him blush. But he was mature enough to lift an indifferent shoulder and reply, “I suppose we’ll just have to find out.”
**
Marcus should feel guilty for a lot of things, but frankly, he didn’t. He should have hated what he’d done to his uncle, but it had been for the best to keep the peace in the universe. He should have loathed himself for kissing a woman whose husband was just up in the house on the hill, but he had had a right to say good-bye. And he should most definitely hate himself for making love to a woman who was mourning the death of her husband while he thought about someone else. Yet those moments in the stables had helped him to feel one hundred percent better. So as far as guilt went, Marcus didn’t plan on feeling any.
The incident in the stables felt almost surreal to him now as he stood on the firing range, practicing with his team. They were getting ready to go to
That’s exactly what he needed. A full year away from his uncle, away from the Armanjanis and time to forget he had bedded a woman who more than likely wouldn’t even remember his name by next week.
Not to say that Aria was the easy type. On the contrary, she was the marriage type. She had been married since she was young. He knew that much. And she had loved only Aasim al-Fulani. Shawna had told Marcus all about it when they had been together. And then Aasim, the perfect husband as Shawna had said, died in the Johar War and now a very beautiful and very fractured woman was alone in the world with her two children.
Of course, when you belonged to the Armanjani family, you’re never “alone.” No, they’re everywhere and very protective. Certainly, if Rafee had caught Aria and Marcus’s act in the barn, Marcus would be a dead man by now. But no one had seen. No one had known. And Marcus should have stopped it as soon as Aria had thrown herself at him. But he had still been able to taste Shawna on his lips and so kissing Aria had rid his mind of that desire for Shawna.
At least, for a while it had. Then he’d imagined it was Shawna he was kissing, Shawna he was stripping naked and ravaging against that stall door. When he closed it eyes, he could pretend it was Shawna who was moaning with need and whose buttocks he held in his hands as he slid easily inside. At least, that was the trick his mind had played until Aria had whispered her husband’s name and Marcus had realized they were both making love to other people.
But it hadn’t mattered. Not that first, frenzy-filled, passionate time, that is. And when they had satisfied themselves the first time, they had finally opened their eyes and seen each other. Then they’d kissed, explored and made love a second time, this time not whispering any dead husband’s name or picturing another woman. No, the second time, they’d made love to one another and it had been sweet, profound and very satisfying.
They’d lain in the itchy straw together for a long while. Marcus had held her; Aria had snuggled against his chest. And when the passion and magic had dissipated, when the cold and dampness from outside had finally invaded breaking the mood, Marcus had gotten dressed, pulled Aria to him, kissed her and then left.
It had been that simple and that uncomplicated. They would probably never see one another again. Marcus was just fine with that. More than likely as fine with it as Aria was.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Sheiks of Kumar IX: Family Reunion – Chapter 18 (coming soon)