Her Sheikh Protector. Linda Conrad
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she glanced toward the rain oozing down a windowpane. Unlike Texas gully-washers, the wetness here seemed damp and depressing without being cleansing. Only enough mist and fog to frizz the hair and muddy the boots.
“Did you get enough rest?” Marie Claire sat in the one other chair in the room and began pouring them both cups of fragrant tea. “I’m not sure my sofa is comfortable. No one has ever stayed the night on it before and it’s too short for someone of your height.”
“The sofa was fine.” Rylie lied to her old college roommate as she reached for her tea cup. “I appreciate your hospitality. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if you hadn’t invited me to stay.”
Marie Claire gave her an I-know-you-and-you-would’ve-found-a-way look before blowing on her own steaming cup and glancing at Rylie over the rim. “I was searching the Internet for info on the Kadir family this morning. You seem convinced that they’re the bad guys and I can’t quite figure out why. I wanted to know more about them.”
Rylie felt the muscles in her face soften. Her dear friend had given up free time to help with Rylie’s important mission.
“I could’ve told you most of their background information if you’d asked. Between the original lawyers for our business merger and my own private investigators, I’m sure I know everything worth knowing about the Kadirs.”
Sitting back in her chair, Marie Claire’s lips pursed, making her look like a pixie with a secret. “Oh really? Then will you tell me more about the Kadir–Taj Zabbar family feud? Start all the way back in the fifteen hundreds, okay?”
A sudden swallow of hot tea burned Rylie’s tongue and left her sputtering. “What feud? And who are the Taj Zabbar?”
“The reason I was asking is because I couldn’t find an explanation for the feud online.” Marie Claire shrugged a freckled shoulder. “Just a mention of the Taj Zabbar holding their grudge for a long time. I do know a little about the Taj Zabbar clan, though. They live in a desolate place in the Middle East called Zabbaran. For centuries their territory was ruled by neighboring countries. One neighbor, Kasht, took over their land about a hundred years ago. The Taj Zabbar mounted a couple of rebellions along the way, but they never could break free.
“Then about two years ago, the Taj Zabbar managed to liberate themselves from Kasht, shaking off their oppressors with help from the world community.” Marie Claire took a sip of tea before raising her eyebrows. “Now it seems the Taj Zabbar family is suddenly rich. An ocean of oil has been discovered under their land.”
Dang. Marie Claire had sprung this new twist on her without warning. Rylie took pride in her information-gathering ability and had thought she’d been prepared.
Well … looked like maybe not so much. She’d apparently missed something important. An ancient feud and gushers of money made it sound as if the Kadir–Taj Zabbar situation could be potentially dangerous to not only Hunt Drilling but the rest of the world.
Still Rylie couldn’t put all the pieces together. She was still missing something. Why? What was behind the feud, and could it have something to do with an explosion as far away as Texas?
Looking over the busy club at masses of people, Darin caught a glimpse of wild auburn hair in a far corner. Meeting Rylie here had sounded like a good idea yesterday. But now that it was happy hour and the place was packed with young professionals, he wasn’t so sure.
He made his way through the boisterous bodies, still wondering if tonight’s meeting was smart. It was possible his brother had been right last night. Despite his erotic dreams of her, Rylie Hunt could be in the employ of the Taj Zabbar, and talking to her might be dangerous. After all, he was a businessman. What did he really know about covert operations?
He knew one thing for sure: Rylie was who she said she was. He’d found pictures on the Internet of Red Hunt’s daughter in accounts of the explosion. But was she also a gorgeous and deadly spy? He couldn’t know that for certain unless he talked to her.
He’d asked around about her this morning and checked with others back at his office. He now knew that she’d spent weeks in the hospital after the explosion. Since her release, she’d also taken a few altruistic business steps above and beyond what Darin considered reasonable.
Admirable? Perhaps. Foolhardy? Very likely.
Did that necessarily mean she was not also involved with the Taj Zabbar? He had to coerce her into opening up to him in order to find out.
Her table was located in an alcove and seemed relatively quiet. As he arrived, she glanced over at him and froze. Even in the inadequate lighting, he noted that her pupils were dilated and her expression frazzled. Her face was a deathly shade of gray that seemed more pronounced in proximity to her black denim jacket and jeans. Her lips tensed and she crossed her arms tightly against her chest. Shrunken in on herself, she looked like a housefly suddenly caught up in a sticky web and docilely expecting the spider.
His heart thumped once and went out to her. If she was as innocent as she appeared, Rylie Hunt had no reason to fear a Kadir.
He simply could not put the picture she made sitting there, her whole body trembling, together in his mind with a Taj Zabbar spy.
When he got closer, two bloodred spots appeared on her cheeks and tears backed up in her eyes. For a moment Darin’s only thoughts were of calming her by taking her in his arms. Instead, he slid into the lone empty chair at her table with his back to the corner.
But it was all he could do not to reach out and cover her quivering hands with his own.
“Hello,” she said in a shaky voice. “I wondered if you would really show up.”
“I’m here.” He nodded at the waiter to get his attention and ordered himself a sparkling water and Rylie a glass of pinot grigio, hoping the lighter drink would calm her nerves without sending her into some alcoholic stupor.
After the waiter acknowledged the order and left, all was quiet at their table and Darin took a moment to look around the club. Rylie had put them in the best possible spot for quiet conversation. No one around them was paying any attention.
A couple of young lovebirds at the closest table, who might have been near enough to hear what was being said, were kissing and whispering with their foreheads touching together and their hands touching every where else. Impervious to all around them. Darin was almost jealous of the way they blocked out the world. His relationships were never so intense.
Bringing himself back to his immediate surroundings, Darin felt confident enough that he and Rylie were isolated in the middle of a crowd. They could talk freely.
“Why?” Her voice was a bit stronger, a bit lower than yesterday.
Shaking his head at the out-of-place question, he was beginning to wonder if that explosion had affected her mind.
“Why are you here?” she blurted before he could say anything. “I wouldn’t think a Kadir would be willing to talk to a Hunt.”
Surprised by the question, but interested in where she was going with this line, he chuckled and gave her a polite nod. “Now it’s my turn to ask—why not? You don’t have plans to do me harm, do you?”
She didn’t answer, but before the lull in the conversation dragged into an embarrassing void, her wine and his water arrived. Her lack of a response, to both his question and his companionable attitude, did nothing to fill him with confidence. He had expected either a lie or an accusation. She confused him with a simple blank stare.
Rylie took a sip of wine and kept on staring at him. He felt as though he were a rat being studied in a scientific experiment, and he wasn’t crazy about the idea. Being too closely scrutinized had to be bad for covert operations. The longer she stared, the more he wondered if she was, in fact, working for the Taj