Sheikh's Rule. Ryshia Kennie
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business-first manner.
Emir nodded. That bit of information was unprecedented for a foreign-origin aircraft and he knew it was Adam’s doing. Their investigators traveled the world, sometimes disguised as normal tourists, and each time clearance was negotiated before the jet took off.
One passenger got off the jet. He waited. No one else appeared. He frowned, unsure of what was going on and yet sensing something wasn’t right. His gaze traveled back to the passenger. She was a good-looking woman. He could tell that even from this distance. She was blond, her hair short or pulled up and away from her face, it was hard to determine which and none of it mattered. Still, he continued to watch as a security agent ran a wand down one side of her, skimming shoulder to ankle. Emir’s gaze shifted away, uninterested—waiting for the investigator K. J. Gelinsky.
Minutes passed and then she was in front of him. She only had to tip her head slightly to catch his eye; a tall woman with a forward attitude. He took a step back, taking her out of his personal space.
“Mr. Al-Nassar,” she said, holding out a slim hand. “I’m K. J. Gelinsky.”
“Emir,” he said almost by rote for “mister” had been his father and that era had ended in tragedy over half a decade ago. But even as he responded, the thoughts were shoved to the background as the reality of what she had said hit him.
“K.J.,” he repeated as if he needed the repetition to commit the initials to memory. Something inside froze as he realized what Adam had done—what he would have said if Adam had told him the sex of the investigator beforehand. Adam would have known how he would have reacted. He would have known that this meeting would never have happened. He didn’t offer her his hand. He couldn’t.
“You’re the new agent?” he asked, the words heavy with disbelief. “You’re the one Adam recommended?”
“Yes,” she said brightly. “I’m K.J.—”
“This won’t work,” he said. His thoughts were clouded with anger at the thought of what Adam had done, of how much time might be wasted, and of Tara whose life would be further endangered now that there was no help forthcoming.
Her wide, smoky-blue eyes narrowed. “By ‘this,’” she said slowly, “you mean me?” She took a step forward. Now she was in his face.
He frowned. If she were a man that would have been a mistake. But she was no man.
“That’s what you were meaning, wasn’t it? I’m not a man so...” She let the remainder of the sentence hang.
He paused long enough to take a breath to control the anger that made him want to lash out at someone, anyone. “You need to get on the first flight home,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Give me a chance.” There was no hesitation in her voice or in her stance as she faced off with him, her head up, her eyes sparking as if enjoying the challenge.
“It’s not me that’s the problem or needs to give you a chance,” he said. All he could feel was the pressure of an invisible clock ticking and the betrayal of a friend thousands of miles away. Adam knew the customs, the inherent sexism that still wove through the ancient traditions of the desert tribes. He knew it all and, still, he had sent her.
“I know,” she interjected. “It’s the customs, the tribes outside the city, the—”
“It won’t work,” he interrupted, thinking of the desert and where he suspected Tara’s kidnappers were hiding. He’d always been an equal opportunity employer and supported his sister, Tara, in her fight for change. It was a man’s world. It didn’t matter how much he disliked the fact, it was a truth that, for now, wouldn’t change.
“Look, I know what I’m getting into. I’m qualified,” she said, her bag swinging from her shoulder, her eyes bright with passion. “I specialized in Middle Eastern studies—an exchange student.” She waved one delicate, well-manicured hand at him.
Just looking at that hand confirmed every doubt he had. It wasn’t just about customs, she was female and because of that and so many other things, she was the wrong person for the job.
“I’ll help you find your sister. You just need to trust me.”
“No!” The word came out with all the pent-up fury that had built since the fateful call from Tara’s kidnappers and now the full impact of it sparked in his eyes as his temple pounded and his fists clenched.
“No,” he said with less edge but with no room for negotiation. He was wasting time, had wasted time, first waiting and now in a senseless airport run. “I don’t care what you specialized in. You’re a woman and because of that you’re going home,” he said bluntly. “I’ve wasted enough time. I’ll speak to the pilot and we’ll get you out of here.”
“You’re not being fair.”
“I’m not being fair,” he repeated, emphasizing each word. If she’d been a man he would have had her by the collar up against the wall, his face in hers. But she wasn’t and that was the problem. “You’re useless to me. I’d have to watch out for both you and me. That’s a distraction. Look at you—you couldn’t swing a punch or...”
One minute he was seething, glaring at her, and the next he was flat on his back.
“You bloody flipped me,” he snarled, leaping to his feet.
“As you can see, I know martial arts as well as being an excellent marksman.”
“Do that again,” he said in a slow, measured tone, “and you’ll wish you hadn’t.”
“That’s it?” she asked, one eyebrow quirked. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“This isn’t going to work. None of it matters. Whatever your skill set, it comes down to you’re a woman. Useless to me in this environment.”
“You don’t have a choice. It’s me or no one,” she said and glared at him.
His jaw clenched.
“Oh, and by the way, your attitude about women sucks. I feel for your sister.”
“Keep Tara out of this,” he snapped, realizing it was a ridiculous thing to say when it was all about Tara.
“This might not just be about money. I think you already suspect that.”
He held his surprise back. He hadn’t expected that; it was an idea he and Adam had only briefly touched on.
“Adam told you.”
She shook her head. “Tara is the heart of your family. Without her, it’s broken.”
She was bang on and he wished she wasn’t for it changed everything, including his decision to send her home.
“These could be men with a grudge against the House of Al-Nassar. After all, your family has a long and deep history in Morocco. Someone has more than likely been hurt along the way. What better opportunity than a chance to bring you down by taking the sister you and your brothers adore and bleeding you for some cash.” She shrugged. “Simplistic, I know, but not improbable.”
“Don’t make me sorry,” he said, hoping that by not escorting her back to the plane he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.
“There’s no time to waste,” K.J. said, swinging around and striding ahead of him. She didn’t stop talking and her comments trailed behind her.
With no choice but to follow, he did, even as his eyes drifted downward and he found, in spite of the situation, that he couldn’t take his eyes off the endless length of her legs, which were enticing despite the fact they were covered by faded, beige-cotton pants. That and the generous curve of a hip only confirmed that in no way could she be mistaken for the man he had only minutes ago hoped she was. He pulled his gaze away. He was engaging in exactly the kind of behavior he abhorred and the behavior his sister, Tara, would have berated him for. No playful