| The Sheiks Of Kumar - Part III The Playboy By CJ |
| Chapter 1 The shade from the trees blocked the high midmorning sun and though it was late fall, practically early winter, Maria needed only a thin sweater for comfort. Once she was riding through the vines again, within reach of the sun’s rays, she may not even need the sweater. She emerged from the shady trail and began to cross the seldom traveled road. Her tall, gray horse hesitated and Maria paused for a moment to glance around, wondering why Samson was refusing to budge. She rode this horse often and though he belonged to her father’s boss, she had ridden Samson enough to know his manners. Refusing to cooperate was certainly not one of this horse’s behaviors. Maria was just about ready to kick the horse into gear to urge him across the street when the loud roar of a sports car engine broke through the tranquility of the quiet morning. Turning her head to look, a black convertible BMW coupe came roaring around the corner, blazing faster than was safe. Two men occupied the car, but Maria saw little else, for the blast of the horn sent Samson into a fit and she had to focus all her attention on the horse that was jumping from foot to foot, preparing to rear. “Who in the world was that?” Maria asked, once Samson had settled down and the sounds of the morning no longer held the whine of a finely tuned racing engine. Certainly, Calistoga, California, had its share of rich winery owners and wealthy visitors from nearby San Francisco who drove their expensive cars around. But rarely did the visitors venture out this far from the quaint town and spas, speeding dangerously and as for the winery owners here, they thought of this area as a neighborhood and respected the speed limit. That black BMW and its driver apparently respected little, for Maria could not remember the last time anyone had sped so recklessly through this narrow passage of road. Shrugging it off, she urged Samson across the street and began to cross through Villa Serena’s land. As she rode through the vines, she gazed up at the white Spanish style mansion in the far distance. Villa Serena had been a place she’d spent lots of time at as a child. Her older brother, Sergio, had worked after school in the stables and Maria had been friends with the eldest daughter of the estate, Tara Malone. Though Tara was her senior by a year or two, they had still shared a love of horses and Tara had taught Maria how to ride and ride well. Maria wondered how Tara was doing. She’d seen her last at her father’s funeral last spring. It had been a sorrow-filled occasion for Walter Malone had been dearly loved and respected throughout Calistoga’s small community. After his death, Maria had learned that Tara had lost the estate due to the conniving ways of a dirty lawyer who had swindled Tara’s inheritance. But since then, things had quickly turned around for Tara and she had recovered her money, gotten married and was now back at the estate. Perhaps she should drop by for a visit? After all, they had known each other for years. Yet when Maria gazed up at the stately mansion she had to wonder if that would be wise for she had heard that Tara had married a rich oil sheik of Middle Eastern royal heritage. It was something out of a fairy tale and Maria sighed for it was the exact opposite of what her life had been. Trying to push such thoughts out of her mind for the purpose of her ride had been to relax, not dwell over her unlucky misfortunes, she kicked Samson into a trot and continued down the row of vines. The row ended and a gravel road appeared before her. Taking a quick look in either direction and satisfied that it was safe, Maria urged Samson into a gallop and the horse was just about to cross the road when from out of nowhere, that black BMW coupe came skidding around the corner. Samson reared and Maria fell off, landing with a thud on her backside. She was unhurt, but what frightened her, was the still skidding car whose traction in the gravel was out of control. Rocks flew at her and all Maria could do was cover her head with her arms and pray that the driver of the car possessed enough skill to halt the skid before she was under the wheels of the sportster. Her life flashed before her in that instance and aside from the vision of her lovely five-year old daughter, Tamara, her life looked rather pathetic. Yet just the thought of her small child was enough to warm her heart and she realized that if she never made it out of this accident, she would go to heaven with fond memories. Luckily, today was not her day, and the car halted a mere foot from her. “Ma’am, are you all right?” a male voice asked with concern. Maria looked up, sighing with relief, and watched as a lithe young man bounded out of the passenger seat. When he reached her, he squatted down and looked on with worry. “I’m…uh, fine,” she said shakily. His hands were on her arm and hauling her to her feet. There was a very kind look in his brown eyes and Maria was sorry for that, because it would make berating him all that more difficult. He seemed like a nice guy and possessed a handsome streak in his dark looks as well. But her attention was drawn away from him as she heard the driver’s door slam shut and watched a tall, sinewy figure lean against the closed door and stare on with mild irritation. “No damage done?” the driver drawled with an accent that was hard to place. Maria stared at him for a long moment. He was dressed in jeans, a tight black T-shirt and black lace-up boots. His thick hair matched his dark shirt and he wore it long with slightly curling ends that nearly touched his shoulders. His eyes were dark and a tightly trimmed goatee and moustache framed full sensual lips and a finely structured face. Maria paused as she glanced him over, for he was striking. Actually, he was more than striking, he was exotic. Rarely did one see such a look in Calistoga—or anywhere unless they were really lucky. However, when he continued to stare at her with a haughty air and make no move to apologize for his wild driving, Maria pulled her eyes away and looked around for Samson. “Where’s my horse?” she asked. “I’m afraid he ran into the vines,” the concerned man next to her reported. His hand was upon her elbow, yet Maria barely noticed. “Great,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll bet he’s half way home by now.” “Does he know the way well?” the man asked. “Yes. Very well. He’ll be fine,” Maria answered. Her legs were still shaking and the fear she felt from the near collision had her heart pumping full-force. “And just where is home?” the man next to her asked. Maria found it odd that the exotic man was still leaning against his car and showing no concern. Only the passenger, the one who bore no responsibility, was attending to her and that made her slightly angry. “Uh, the next vineyard over,” she answered after taking another quick glance at the striking man. “The Canterbury Estate.” With some shock, the kind man announced, “Zaki, it appears as if we almost ran over our neighbor.” So, that was his name? Zaki. She figured the tall, handsome man had to have been from some foreign ancestry for his accent hinted that he was not American. And that name, it was of Middle Eastern ancestry too, wasn’t it? Maria became so caught up in her thoughts that she failed to correct the other man’s assumption that Canterbury was her home as well. It was not her home, just Samson’s. But it was the place she had grown up and she often referred to it as home. “Neighbor? Do you live on Villa Serena?” Maria inquired. The man next to her nodded. “In a manner of speaking. I’m Devesh Badawi. I work for Sheik Nikash.” “And Sheik Nikash is…?” Maria prompted Devesh. “Why, he is Tara Malone’s husband. You do know Tara, don’t you?” Maria nodded. Yes, she knew Tara quite well. Her eyes fell again upon the man with the sexy stance and intriguing long hair. She wondered if that was Tara’s husband and if Zaki was just a nickname. Certainly, Tara would have never married a man so unconcerned and arrogant as he! “And who is the man who nearly killed me?” Maria asked bravely, motioning toward Zaki and hoping Devesh did not answer he was Tara’s husband. “That’s Zaki Armanjani. Zak actually. Cousin to Sheik Nikash,” Devesh answered. “And do all the Armanjani’s drive with such reckless abandon?” Maria chanced to ask, wondering just when she was going to hear an apology from the driver. “You were on our estate. My driving should be of no concern to you under such circumstances,” Zak finally answered. Maria felt her temper flare. All she wanted was a simple, “I’m sorry,” from the man. Instead, he wanted to try and convince her that their near collision had been her fault. “Then what about ten minutes ago when you nearly ran me down on the public road?” she posed. “You should stick to the horse trails,” he answered matter of factly. “I see. Then I suppose I should apologize to you for nearly denting your expensive car with my head,” she quipped. Her words were meant to be sarcastic and caustic. Instead, they caused the man to smile and return, “Apology accepted.” Shrugging off Devesh’s hand that still rested on her elbow, Maria groaned and stormed off. She’d walk the two miles over to Canterbury, for it would be worth it to no longer have to suffer such abuse and taunting. Devesh, however, would not allow her to escape. He caught her arm again and asked, “Where are you going?” “Walking back to Canterbury.” “Please do not. You fell from your horse. You could be hurt.” “I’m not hurt. Bruised perhaps, but not hurt.” Maria again tried to leave, but Devesh’s grip was too tight. “If Tara and Nikash discovered that we had nearly killed their neighbor and then forced her to walk home, we would be soundly punished.” “Perhaps you would, Dev,” Zak spoke up. “And if she wants to walk, let her walk.” Devesh stared at Zak with a horrific expression. “Don’t be ridiculous, Zak!” Devesh returned. “Give the lady a ride home, would you?” Maria shook her head and was just about to protest, for the thought of riding anywhere with that maniac behind the wheel scared her to death, when Zak pushed away from the car door and strode over to her. “Fine, I’ll drive her home,” Zak said roughly and wrapped a hand around her upper arm and practically dragged her to the car. He more or less forced her into the passenger seat and Maria was so stunned by his actions that nothing ever made it out of her mouth until they were speeding down the gravel drive and heading for the main road. Feeling like she was on a roller coaster ride, Maria yanked her seatbelt on and tried to find something in the small car to grab hold of for support. Nothing, however, was within reach aside from the door handle to her right and the dashboard in front of her, so she opted to grip her leather seat and close her eyes in the hopes that she survived the ride. Suddenly, the man next to her laughed. Maria opened her eyes and looked up at him. The wind from the speed with which he drove caused his air to blow and she noticed he now wore dark sunglasses over his eyes. They were the stylish kind with thin wire rims and a sleek bronze look and they fit his face well. “Afraid of a little speed?” he asked her. “It’s not the speed, it’s your driving,” she replied with sarcasm. He chuckled again and she noticed that his mood had changed since he’d slid behind the wheel. Instead of that brooding, haughty expression he’d carried, he now appeared carefree and wild. She wondered about his suddenly easygoing persona then shook her head because after the displays he’d given her today, she was better off not wondering anything about this man. In fact, if she could avoid it, she was not going to even look in his direction until they were back at Canterbury. Making it back to the estate, however, was not working well, for Zak sped right past the entrance. “You uh…missed the turn,” Maria said. “I know,” he replied, but made no move to stop or turn around. When he continued to speed down the road, Maria looked at him quizzically and snapped, “Look, I didn’t buy a ticket to Disneyland here. Take me back to Canterbury. I’m not into thrill rides. Especially with you.” Though they were flying down the tree-lined road, Zak took his eyes off the road to stare down at her. Maria wished he wasn’t wearing such dark glasses for she would have liked to see what expression his eyes were flashing her. “That’s a shame,” he finally drawled. For a moment, he continued to drive, and Maria feared she would never make it home. Just because this man was related to Tara’s husband, it did not mean he was safe. Perhaps she had allowed herself to fall into a dangerous situation. Then again, that man, Devesh, had seemed so honest and concerned that certainly he would not have sent her away with a man whom she needed to fear. Would he? Just as those crazy thoughts raced through her mind, Zak downshifted, hit the gravel shoulder, braked and sent the car into a quick one-eighty skid. They were heading back into the direction of Canterbury within seconds. Zak’s speed decreased when he turned onto the paved winery road. In fact, he actually drove like a regular person instead of some NASCAR racer. And when they neared the stables, Maria requested to be dropped off there. “You sure?” he inquired as he pulled off his sunglasses and his dark eyes wandered over her in a caress that made her feel uneasy. “After all, you did land on that cute bottom of yours. Perhaps I should just take you up to the house or…somewhere else where we could have you…checked out.” His words were arrogant, self-assured, taunting and even a little sexual. The look in his eyes was that of a predator and Maria was shocked for she was certain the man had not noticed her even though she had been sitting next to him for the past ten minutes. Then she realized that he was the type of man who would look at any woman that way when he wanted something. He was drop-dead gorgeous and he knew it. He more than likely spoke to all women with some sort of flirtatious manner only because he knew he could affect them and get just about anything he wanted from them. Maria, however, was in no place in her life to allow a few words about her behind to affect her--even if they were spoken from the chiseled lips of this foreign god who had no doubt been created upon Mt. Olympus. So, with little ceremony, she stood from the car, closed the door and insisted, “I’ll be fine here at the stables. Besides, I need to find my horse.” “Let me know if the beast never returns,” Zak said with little concern. “I’d be more than happy to give you a ride if your usual mode of transportation decides he would rather remain on his own.” Maria was poised to retort that she would never ride anywhere with him again, when the man smiled one last time and drove away. “Why that arrogant, cruel, pig-headed…” she began, only to have her words cut off by the sound of Mr. George Walker’s voice as he approached. “Maria, there you are. I was starting to get worried when Samson came home without you,” the older man said. Maria turned to face the owner of the estate. He was a gentle, generous man whom her father had worked for since she was a small child. His balding head was red from the sun and Maria wished his wife were still alive to remind him to keep his head covered when he worked outside with the horses or in his garden. “So he made it home?” Maria asked, relieved. “Yes, I just put him in his stall.” Placing a hand over her heart and feeling it still pounding from her adventure, Maria replied, “I’m so glad. I fell off him and I hoped he had run home on his own.” “You fell off? Dear, are you all right?” Mr. Walker asked with concern. “I’m fine. I fell on my rear-end. The safest place to land,” she said humorously with a slap on her rump. She knew her bodily proportions were womanly and curvy instead of rail thin and though most men preferred women with little meat, she was glad for her shape when she had landed on her backside just a few minutes ago. “Maria!” another male voice shouted from a dusty pick-up. Her father, his dark hair graying under his straw hat and his moustache also peppered with gray jumped from his truck and trotted over to her. “Maria, are you all right?” “Yes, papa, I’m fine,” Maria assured him. “Mr. Walker phoned me just a moment ago to tell me your horse had returned without you. I was on my way to search for you.” Her father, Hector Sandoval, was an overly concerned parent. He’d been that way Maria’s entire life. In fact, his concern for her outweighed that of his concern for her older brother. She knew it was just because she was the baby girl of the family. Yet his constant worry for her made her feel loved and cherished and though life had not gone her way these past few years, she felt lucky to have such a wonderful family. “I’m fine, really, papa,” Maria said again. “I just happened to fall from Samson. It was no big deal.” She conveniently left out the part about nearly being run down by a speeding car because her father would only worry more. “And that man who just dropped you off,” Hector began. “Who was he?” Maria had almost forgotten all about Zak, Zaki Armanjani, and their wild drive, for trying to keep her father’s worry away had taken precedence. “Oh, him…he’s related to Tara Malone’s husband. He saw me tumble from Samson and offered me a ride,” she explained simply. “Really? So he must be one of the Kumar clan,” Mr. Walker spoke up. “The what?” Maria inquired. “Kumar. It’s a very rich municipality in the Middle East. Trade and oil I believe is their business. In fact, Tara Malone married the crown prince, Sheik Nikash Armanjani. And you remember Shawna Patrick, don’t you? She grew up just down the road from here.” Maria nodded as she recalled her other friend, Shawna. In fact, Maria had not seen Shawna since Walter Malone’s funeral last spring either. “Well,” Mr. Walker continued, “Shawna’s getting married at Villa Serena real soon to Sheik Nikash’s brother.” “She is?” Maria asked, wondering why she had not heard any of this. She knew that Tara had married some sort of royalty, but a crown prince? And now Shawna was marrying into royalty as well? “I never heard from her.” Though their contact over the past couple years had been sparse, Maria had always cherished her friendships with Tara and Shawna and wondered why she had heard nothing from them about their weddings. She suddenly felt left out and saddened. Had her life really taken such a bad turn that even her old childhood friends refused to seek her out? “Oh, no,” her father said with a sigh. “Maria, I’m so sorry. You have mail up at the house I forgot all about. I believe one bears Villa Serena’s address.” “Really? Maybe it’s from Shawna or Tara,” she said with hope. How she would love to see her friends again. “I’m sure it is, honey,” her father said. “I’ll bring it down right away.” “No, don’t worry. I’ll collect it myself. Besides, I’m certain mama has had just about enough of Tamara by now. You should get back to work,” Maria told him. Turning to Mr. Walker, Maria said with a smile, “And you need to go put a hat on before your head gets any pinker.” He smiled at her with affection turned to Hector and said, “Hector, my man, you have just about the most generous daughter around.” Hector smiled proudly, something he did a lot around his family, Maria realized, and nodded. “Yes, sir, I certainly do.” ** Zak sped back to Villa Serena, though his instincts told him to continue to drive away. He was in no mood to return to the estate, for the tension there was so thick with family strain that he could barely stand it any longer. Devesh had been feeling that same strain so when Zak had commandeered his cousin Nikash’s prized sports car for a drive, he had readily volunteered to tag along. Their drive had been fast and reckless. And though Zak knew the driving laws were much stricter here than they were in Europe where he usually played, he had taken his chances and raced through the vineyard country anyhow. The morning drive had done much to ease his mind, yet the near collision with their neighbor down the road had settled him right back into a foul mood. Again, just like that night a week ago, it wasn’t like Zak to find himself in such moods. Usually, he was upbeat and spontaneous, looking for any hint of fun and adventure. And as far as women went, the last time he’d spoken so curt to one as he had their neighbor had been the night he’d heard from his sister and asked Greta to leave. He enjoyed women, though he hadn’t been near one in over a week and even longer since he’d had one in his bed, and the only reason he had been so unconcerned for the beauty that had fallen from the horse was because matters at Villa Serena were wearing him down. Zak pulled the car over on the side of the gravel drive leading to Villa Serena. He gazed up at the large white mansion with the red tiled roof and thought about his attitude lately. Was his foul mood really only because his family was torn in two at the moment? Or, was there something else going on inside of him that had only recently surfaced with the marriages and pending marriages of his sisters and cousins? No, he shook his head. Just because his cousins Nikash and Rafee had each found love and his two sisters had discovered their matches did not have any bearing on his life. After all, he was the self appointed playboy of the Armanjani family. His reputation in the family oil company preceded him throughout Europe. In fact, he was becoming better known for his womanizing abilities than he was his business sense. And though he worked hard in the family business, no one seemed to notice for his rogue ways and male charm always overshadowed his work ethic. So certainly, living the high life in Europe, meeting the most fabulous of women and attending the most fashionable of parties would not play into his mood for what man would not want to live his life? What man would not be satisfied to be thirty years old, belong to a historic royal family, have millions to his name and socialize with the crčme de le crčme of European society? Thirty years old! Zak closed his eyes and bit back a curse. Yes, thirty had just hit and he was pretending not to notice. And he was also trying not to notice that his entire family was settling down into comfortable lives with wives, husbands and children on the way. For each time a cousin or a sibling married or got engaged, he felt that much closer to mortality himself. “Damn,” he muttered, though no one was within earshot to hear him. He wanted to turn his car around and drive some more. He’d attempted to while taking that woman from Canterbury home, but she had insisted he turn around and return her immediately to her estate. He’d been disappointed in that, for not only were her olive skin and long dark hair intriguing, so was her attitude. She was so feisty, so determined like a lot of the American women he’d met before. Women from this country amazed him for there was an outward toughness about them that they displayed quite openly and he appreciated that characteristic many possessed. Yet, his luck had run out with the woman who’s name he had never obtained and just like a typical spoiled heiress who had been thrown from her mighty steed, she had demanded he return her to her grand estate. Though he’d attempted to charm her some with a smile and a subtle sexual comment, she had noticed him little and seemed only interested in finding her horse. Well, she could have her horse, he reasoned, for now that he was back at Villa Serena, the family drama that was unfolding was going to hit him full force and he needed to be strong and determined to keep his mouth shut and his nose out of his older sister’s business. *** Indeed, Shawna Patrick, Maria’s old friend, was getting married. The wedding was fast approaching and would be held at Villa Serena. Shawna had even included a personal note to Maria, begging her to give her a call so they could talk before the wedding. It appeared as if Shawna was going to move out of the country with her husband after the wedding and she wanted to be sure to say a proper good-bye to her friends before she left. Maria smiled with joy for her friend then sighed with sadness over her own misfortunes for she doubted her life would ever work out quite as easily. “Maria, who is that from?” her mother, Consuelo, or Connie for short, inquired as she came out of the kitchen. “Shawna Patrick. She’s getting married,” Maria announced. “I heard. And you do know Tara Malone is married too, don’t you?” Maria nodded. “Yes, to some oil sheik.” “Oh, he is more than just some oil sheik. He is a crown prince. He will inherit a royal title one day. And he is so handsome. All the women around town have been fawning over him since the day he arrived last summer.” “I hadn’t heard that until Mr. Walker and papa told me not ten minutes ago,” Maria revealed, having just recently moved back to the area. She’d been living in San Jose, California, for the past two years, attempting to finish her college education. However, that had been cut abruptly short with the death of her ex-husband. When he had died in a military training accident, her spousal support had been cut off and only a small life-insurance policy had been set aside for their daughter, Tamara. Without the financial support, Maria had been forced to leave college just a semester shy of finishing her elementary education degree and returned home to live near her parents in Calistoga. With their support, she’d obtained a small apartment in town, found a job as a waitress in one of the more posh restaurants of Calistoga and was trying to save the money she needed to finish out her last semester of college. Trying. Her parents had wanted her to move in with them and allow them to pay for her education. Yet they had given her much in life and she did not want their handouts now that they were nearing their own retirements. They were hardworking people who had pulled themselves up from a near peasant existence as children in Mexico. When they were young and recently married, they had come to America, working their way up California as itinerate farmers, plowing and picking from other people’s land. Then, they’d stumbled upon this estate when Mr. Walker was just beginning his own winery and they’d remained ever since. Hector was now the foreman, running the vineyard and Connie ran the household, keeping Mr. Walker’s mansion in order and directing the servants. And though they lived comfortably in a small cottage on the Canterbury estate, Maria did not want to take their money for it had been earned with their sweat and it belonged to them. “Well, you should call up Shawna and get caught up on all the local gossip,” her mother suggested. “I’ll bet she’d love to hear from you.” Maria was still contemplating whether she should call Shawna the next day while she shopped with Tamara in the quaint town of Calistoga. She wanted to speak with her friend, yet she also did not want to disturb her in the midst of wedding plans. Yet Shawna would not have written a personal note wanting to hear from Maria if she had no time. With that new determination, Maria carried her bag of groceries in her arm, checked that her daughter was in tow and exited the store. Her timing could not have been any worse, she reasoned. Just as she crossed the street on her way home, that familiar black sports car screeched to a halt in front of one of the local restaurants. Unfortunately, her path was taking her right in front of that restaurant and she only prayed the exotic man behind the wheel never noticed her. As she watched Zak exit his car and then open the passenger side door to assist a longhaired, long legged woman out of the car, Maria was certain he would not notice her. After all, they’d barely said two words to each other the day before and though any woman would reason that Zaki Armanjani was breathtaking in his masculine charm and features, there was no reason Maria had to avoid him. Besides, as he slipped his arm around the beautiful woman’s waist and laughed with her as they walked toward the restaurant it was obvious he had other interests to keep his focus. The couple was a few steps ahead of her and Maria was positive they’d make it up the steps of the restaurant without seeing her if she just walked a bit slower. But luck would not have it, for suddenly Zak turned around, releasing the woman with him and mumbling something about his cell phone and nearly ran Maria over with his long stride. “Pardon me,” he said quickly, his eyes not glancing at her as he stepped past her. Maria was about ready to make a quick get away when Zak’s hand suddenly landed upon her arm. “Just a moment,” he insisted. “I know you. Did your horse ever make it home?” “Yes, he did. Thank you for inquiring,” Maria answered and tried to step away. Zak, however, did not release her arm. Instead, his dark eyes studied her face carefully, as if he did not entirely recognize her from the day before then dropped his eyes to her bag of groceries. “Shopping?” he asked, almost sounding surprised at that simple activity. “Yes, I was,” she answered simply. “Was it the maid’s day off?” he asked, again with arrogance--or was it taunting--that Maria was not used to. She felt her face heat at his question, for being someone’s maid was honest work and Zak’s question had made it seem like it was somehow dishonest. Her mother, after all, had made her living taking care of Mr. Walker’s house and she’d been happy with her work, proud of her responsibilities. Yet Maria doubted this man would even understand that. “I wouldn’t know,” Maria snapped. He looked at her quizzically, almost as if he was confused and Maria blurted out, “What? You’ve never done your own food shopping before?” “Actually, I don’t believe I have,” he returned seriously. Maria shook her head for she suddenly realized that they were from two completely different planets and the sooner she forgot she had met him, the better off she would be. Politely pulling her arm away that was burning oddly, Maria said, “Your date is waiting for you.” His eyes quickly returned to the tall, slender woman on the steps to the restaurant, and he suddenly seemed to remember he indeed had a date. “Right. But that is only my sister, Jazmin, so it is not entirely impolite to keep her waiting,” he drawled with a crooked grin. Maria found it odd that she was relieved the woman was only his sister. But she had no right to be relived, and no right to even inquire anything further of him. In fact, he had yet to even ask her name and his eyes had not traveled down far enough to see that she was towing a child with her. That told her that he was perhaps more self-centered than she had first guessed. And as far as self-centered men went, Maria had married one when she was too young and now that she was older and wiser she had no intentions of getting mixed up with another. “Sister or not, you’re still keeping her waiting and I have to get home. Good-bye,” Maria said with forced politeness and strode away. Zak stood on the sidewalk, staring after the woman. He still didn’t know her name and he realized he should have asked her. Yet having run into her had disarmed him and his usual charms and sophistication seemed to have vanished, just as they had the day before with her. “What is wrong, Zaki?” his sister Jazmin asked from the front of the restaurant. “Losing your touch with the ladies?” “I have lost nothing,” he insisted as he forgot all about his cell phone and moved to his sister’s side, carefully escorting her up the steps. “Really? Just who was that and why did she brush you off so quickly?” “She’s our neighbor from Canterbury. And I nearly ran her down with my car yesterday, so I’m afraid I’ve left her with a very bad impression,” Zak explained. Jazmin, his elder sister by a year, looked at him comically and responded, “Eventually, you leave all the ladies with a bad impression.” Zak said nothing in return for that was the perception most people had of him it seemed. He had charmed his way with one too many ladies it appeared and now he was paying the price for even his beloved sister thought him a cad. “What? You’re not going to defend yourself?” Jazmin inquired when her brother merely stared at her with a blank expression upon his handsome face. “Defend myself? Why? You speak the truth. I know what my reputation is in this family, in our company,” he returned. Jazmin looked away from him and sighed. “And it appears as if my reputation is beginning to outstrip yours. At least, if I remain with Joseph it will.” It was Zak’s turn to look away. His oldest sister’s recent relationship with a San Francisco Police Detective was worrying him, as it was the entire family. However, it worried him for a different reason. The rest of his family, their father not included, respected Detective Joseph Patrick and respected Jazmin’s decision to be with him. Their father, Sheik Laxman, second in command of the Armanjani royal family, despised what Jazmin was doing and abhorred her marriage to a man he saw as being beneath his daughter’s station in life. And as for Rafee and Nikash, well, they were livid with their Uncle Laxman, feeling as if Laxman’s rejection of Joseph Patrick was a rejection of their choice of American brides as well and the entire family was in a feud. And poor Jazmin—sweet, soft-spoken Jazmin—was caught in the middle. As for Zak, well, he had his opinion, but he was usually the last one in the family to speak his mind because he always assumed no one cared to hear it. His cousins, Rafee and Nikash, were always part of the decision making process in the Armanjani family because they were well respected. Nikash, after all, was the next in line to inherit the royal title of Sheik of Kumar after his father, Sheik Aarif. And as for Rafee, his dominant personality and warrior tactics ensured his status in the family food chain. As for where Zak’s place was in the family, he wasn’t sure. He’d been busy playing in Europe for so many years and pretending that he didn’t want a place of power that now he felt like his place was in flux. Just where did he belong and what did he want? “Do what you have to do, Jazmin,” Zak finally answered her. “Do what you need to do for your own happiness.” Jazmin caught his eye and glanced at him with a quizzical expression upon her face. “Now that’s advice I haven’t heard yet. I’m either being told to proceed with my relationship or ordered to stop by father. No one’s told me to do what I have to. What I need to,” she said. “So does that mean you have no other opinion, Zak?” “Why does my opinion matter? After all, I’m just the family playboy, right? What do I know about relationships and how you should proceed? Therefore, you have to do what you have to do.” He did, however, have concern for his sister and he did have an opinion that he would never share for Jazmin was thirty-one, intelligent and more than able enough to make her own decision. Jazmin smiled at him with sympathy and touched his face. “You are more than just the family playboy, Zaki. You just haven’t figured that out for yourself yet. But you will. I know you will.” She slipped her arm through his and demanded gently, “Now, take me to lunch. I’m famished.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The Playboy - Chapter 2 |