Dangerous Pleasure

8

Paige stood at the high windows of the bedroom and stared through the crack of the partially opened shutters to where Jafar and Azir stood on the other side of the fortress wall, barely visible.

The two men had their heads close together as they stared at the ground as though looking for something, the metal detector Jafar carried so shadowed that at first it had been hard to tell exactly what it was.

Their dark thobes, the loose, long-sleeved, ankle-length garments, unadorned and plain, rippled at their legs from the winds sweeping from the mountains. On their heads, the ghutra, a large square cloth of cotton, dark in color to match the thobe, was wrapped around their faces to protect them from the cold wind and secured with the thick, double, black cord.

Azir seemed to teeter ever so often, and in the two hours she had watched them surveying the natu bank that split the land along the length of the fortress, she’d seen the old man almost topple over more than once.

Jafar kept close to him, catching him whenever he stumbled and staying close to him whenever the crazy old goat seemed to wander from whatever they were doing.

They were searching for something as far as she could tell, and evidently having little success in finding it.

“What are they looking for?” she asked Tariq as he worked on a piece of electronics at the small table across the room.

A muttered sound resembling a male grunt met her question. “Azir has spent years trying to find all the hidden tunnels coming in and out of the castle,” he told her. “Each time he finds one he has it dynamited or filled in in some way to make it impossible.”

She stared back down at the men with a frown. Why would they worry about hidden tunnels?

“To keep Abram from escaping,” she murmured almost to herself.

“Pretty much,” Tariq agreed. “Azir is fanatical about keeping him here until the king releases the funds he had frozen over twenty years ago. If Azir can get them returned, then the government has to pay out, no matter what, for the next ten years or risk breaking a treaty with several of the tribes that were a part of the original pact. They’ll go to any lengths to keep from doing that, and Azir knows that.”

Greed. Power. That was what it all came down to, one way or the other. Azir was hungry for it, just as his sons had been. Those who didn’t hunger for it tried peaceful means at all costs, and kept their demands clearly stated.

Azir wanted nothing more than to fund whatever fanatical regime he was supporting, and nothing mattered but his wants. Not even the heir who seemed to be his last hope of a comfortable life in his old age.

She continued to stare out the window, watching as they began to track the ground with the metal detector once again.

“How does a metal detector help them find underground tunnels?” she asked without turning back.

“It’s not exactly a metal detector,” he answered. “It’s specially modified to pick up pockets beneath the ground, vacancies that would indicate a cave, a cavern, or a tunnel.”

“Is there a tunnel where he’s looking?” She glanced back, but rather than searching for his eyes her gaze moved to his naked back once again.

“Not that we’ve found,” he told her with a quick shake of his head. “Abram and I have searched high and low for tunnels that haven’t yet been found. So far, we hnnels thatx2019;t found anything.”

She turned back to the scene below to see Jafar gesture angrily to Azir with a frown. She would have never believed he was as deceitful as it appeared he was, or that he could have been a risk to her. Learning he had helped conspire to kidnap her had been a disillusioning blow.

There had been a lot of surprises in the past four days though, things she had truly never expected. She’d known Khalid’s cousins most of her life. At one time or another she had been introduced to them under various circumstances outside the Saudi regime. Until perhaps five or six years before, his Saudi cousins had been regulars at many of the vacation spots her parents had visited, for either business or pleasure.

Then, the positions they had held within the Saudi government had been dissolved, Paige had learned.

Because of Ayid and Aman, Khalid had told her. Once the king had received proof they were still involved with terrorist activities, all the males working in the Riyadh government had been asked to return to their own province. Ayid and Aman had destroyed the regime’s trust for the entire family.

Jafar and Tariq had actually held very lucrative positions within imports and exports, allowing them to travel all over the world. Several of Jafar’s family members were still in the U.S. attending college on student visas he had arranged while they were still very young.

But Tariq and Jafar were here now, rather than jet-setting and representing their country financially.

Turning, she stared at Tariq once again, her gaze straying to his smooth, bare shoulders. He was dressed only in the ankle-length loose trousers that he and Abram wore beneath their thobes.

Once the two men entered the rooms, the first thing they did was strip off the thobes. She’d seen Abram pull on well-worn, lovingly faded denim the night before like a man pulling on a favorite lover. She swore his lashes almost fluttered in pleasure for a second.

Tariq’s bare shoulders were the only part of his back that was smooth though. Unlike her mother’s description of Azir with his heavy pelt of body hair, Tariq actually sported very little, as did Abram.

But his back was crisscrossed with what had to be hundreds of very fine, thin scars that went from his shoulder blades to beneath the drawstring waist of the trousers.

“What are you doing?” She cleared her throat uneasily as she moved toward him.

He’d been working on that piece of equipment for two days now.

“Someone found one of the GPS trackers I’ve been using on the Land Rovers and managed to scramble the signal,” he murmured as he continued to peer into the electronic control board. “I’m trying to alter the device rather than attempting to steal the tracker itself back. If I can get it to remotely change the signal, then I’ll have them again.”

“Who are you trying to track?” She stared down at the intricate array of tiny wires, nodules, and electronic relays with a frown.

He looked over his shoulder at her, his milk chocolate–brown eyes faintly amused as he gave her a glance of male appreciation. “The new soaps Abram brought in for you smell nice.”

She was that close to him. Not touching, but close enough that he had no problem smelling the very faint scent of rose and sandalwood.

She moved back, a sense of nervousness invading her as he continued to watch her for several seconds before turning back to the electronic device.

It was merely another variation of the same theme that had played out in the past two days that Abram hadn’t been present. The looks of interest, the silent reminder that Abram had already asked him to be his third and that he shared that huge bed with them every night.

For the past two nights she had gone to sleep with Abram’s arms around her, only to awaken with Tariq’s holding her. It was creating an intimacy she couldn’t seem to escape.

Restraining a frustrated sigh she turned back to him, her lips parting to comment on Abram’s absence when a hard, imperative knock sounded on the heavy, thick wood of the door.

Paige flinched with near violence, her heart jumping into her throat as her gaze flew to where Tariq was quickly folding a square of cloth over the device he had been working on and rising from the chair.

He pointed to the connecting door that led to his suite as he moved to it quickly.

He was leaving?

“Where are you going?” she hissed.

“I’ll be listening,” he promised quickly, his voice so low as to be nearly silent. “See who it is, and don’t let them know I’m here.”

He handed her the scarf that Abram had given her in case Azir showed up to use over her head and around her neck as a hijab.

The knock sounded again, harder, and this time, more impatient.

“Who is it?” she called out as she quickly secured the scarf around her head as Abram had taught her.

“It is Jafar, Paige. I have someone here who wishes to see you.” His voice came through the door quietly.

font color="#000000">Dammit, where the hell was Abram?

“Abram isn’t here, Jafar,” she stated from the seam of the door and frame. “He told me not to open the door to anyone.”

She heard Jafar’s laughter through the heavy wood. “Put your scarf on and simply open the door. I do not intend to enter the room.”

She looked to where Tariq watched from the doorway of his suite. He nodded at her as she gave him a look of desperation and silently mouthed, “What do I do?”

He grimaced tightly before nodding again at her and disappearing into the other room.

Releasing the locks she opened the door several inches and stared at Jafar and the figure clothed in black from head to foot in the face and body covering usually only worn in the strictest of areas.

Behind the mesh screen of the burqa, feminine eyes stared back at her, though the shape and color were impossible to distinguish.

Behind the much smaller figure stood Jafar, as his odd, almost translucent pale green eyes watched her with knowing, mocking amusement.

Antagonism rose within her at the first sight of him and it was all she could do to keep her lips clamped closed.

“Such a look of anger.” He grinned at her, a brow arching in a move of such arrogance that for a second, he reminded her of Abram.

“Stop trying to make her angry, brother,” the feminine voice chided him with surprising tartness.

Paige’s gaze jerked back to the shrouded figure and struggled to peer behind the mesh eye covering.

“Chalah?” she whispered uncertainly, hopefully, though suspicion was blooming inside her.

“I told you she would remember me.” Soft laughter spilled from behind the dark covering. “Let me in, Paige, so I can get rid of my hulking brother, if you don’t mind.”

Paige’s eyes flicked to Jafar once again. How cruel of him to bring the sister who had once been her friend to betray her.

She eased back slowly, allowing the door to open as she kept a wary eye on Jafar. She trusted him even less now. It was incredibly obvious he was attempting to use the sister he had once seemed to adore.

The lies of the past were piling up on his head, and she hoped the weight of them buried him. Quickly.

“It’s about time.” Chalah all but bounced into te room as Paige closed the door in Jafar’s laughing face.

“I thought you were still in college,” Paige stated as she locked the door, her brows lifting as the burqa came off.

This was Chalah. White sneakers, her long legs just dark enough to give her a perpetually tanned look. Cutoff shorts and a snug camisole that shaped her full breasts and emphasized her tiny waist.

“All about covering yourself today, aren’t you there, Chalah?” she drawled.

Chalah rolled her eyes. “I hear the Matawa deserted this damned place about the same time the money left,” she snorted.

The Matawa, or religious police were the terror of any woman unlucky enough to draw their notice.

“How in the hell did you manage to get your ass in this situation?” Chalah propped her hands on her hips as she glared back at Paige.

Long black hair was confined in a thick heavy braid. Exotic, honey brown eyes, thickly lashed, were sparkling as her lips pursed in irritation.

“An argument with Khalid.” Paige admitted a truth she hadn’t even told Abram.

“It figures it was that oaf’s fault,” Chalah retorted as she crossed her arms over her breasts and tilted her head curiously. “Let me guess, he didn’t handle catching you in that tight, hot embrace with Abram very well? Did he scream incest?” She waggled her brows suggestively.

Paige stared back at her in surprise as she drew the scarf from her head and draped it over the back of the couch.

“How did you know about that?” she asked suspiciously.

She knew neither Khalid nor Marty would have told of the incident. To do so would have endangered Abram and further threatened Paige.

Chalah turned, glancing around the room before casting Paige an impish look from the corner of her eye.

“Where’s Abram?” she asked.

Paige shrugged. “He was gone when I awoke this morning. Now, tell me how you knew about Abram being at Khalid’s that night.”

Chalah shot her a dark look as she paced around the room as though looking for something. When she made her way back to Paige she shook her head, her expression pensive.

“Because Khalid either has one of Azir or Jafar’s spies, or a very gossipy employee on his payroll.” Chalah kept her voice low. “nd if you dare let anyone know I told you that, even Abram, then I may not survive long enough to return to the U.S. and finish my degree.”

Paige closed her eyes for a second before turning, her hand moving to rub at the side of her head wearily. Her temple throbbed with stress.

“Is it Abdul?” she asked as she turnd back, knowing it would break Khalid and Mary’s heart if it were the manservant betraying him.

“How simple would that be?” Chalah rolled her eyes expressively. “But, no such luck. I’m afraid all I know for sure is that it’s a female. A very vindictive one who’s either in the house or in the employ of the Conover security team. She’s been funneling information to the commander of the terrorist cell Ayid and Aman led for a while now.”

“I thought Jafar commanded those men,” Paige said as she watched the other girl suspiciously and wondered what the hell was going on.

Chalah gave a brief shake of her head as regret twisted her expression.

“No, Paige,” she whispered, her voice barely audible now. “Jafar has taken Ayid and Aman’s place as a mere leader, but they were never commanders. Even Jafar doesn’t know who the commander is, and he claims he enjoys living so he does not ask.”

Pain flashed in Chalah’s eyes at the admission of her brother actually being part of the cell.

“Does Jafar know anything about him?” Paige asked.

Chalah grimaced, grief flashing in her eyes.

“Jafar refused to discuss it with me,” she sighed. “After Anwar’s death he was so consumed with vengeance at first that discussing anything with him was impossible. Having him murdered as he was, and believing Azir was behind it consumed him.”

Anwar had been Jafar’s older brother by several years. A full brother that Jafar had idolized as a child. He had also been the heir to a third of the Mustafa province and had been petitioning the regime to reacquire the property with a vow that it would be run as the family of Mustafa had vowed to run it centuries before.

Paige knew both Khalid and Abram were still certain Azir and his sons, Ayid and Aman, were behind his death.

Chalah moved to the table and leaned against it as Paige watched her quietly for several moments.

“Why are you telling me this?” Paige asked her warily. “Wouldn’t Jafar be upset?”

Chalah’s expression sobered. “If he knew, then he would be very upset, and f Azir ever learned I told you anything, then he would most surely have me stoned,” she revealed heavily. “But I don’t think I have to worry about you telling anyone but Abram, do I?”

“Then Azir has known all along that Abram and Khalid weren’t estranged,” she whispered, her stomach pitching sickeningly.

“I don’t know how long he’s known, but Jafar has known for several years. Just as he’s known that Abram and Tariq have had a lover to share each time they’ve been to the U.S.” Chalah’s gaze was curious now. “Was it you?”

Paige nearly choked on her own mocking laughter. “Khalid had a cow when he caught Abram kissing me. Do you really think I could have gotten away with anything else?”

“Knowing Khalid?” Chalah’s brows lifted. “It is rather doubtful.”

And Chalah knew Khalid. Not as well as Paige did, and certainly not as a lover, but one of the young women Azir had bought Khalid years ago for a personal harem, attended the same college with Chalah, and the two girls had socialized often.

Chalah was considered a friend, as well as a cousin to Khalid, and he had made it plain more than once that if she ever needed anything then he had no problem helping her out.

Watching Chalah closely now, Paige still had a hard time believing the other girl was here, or that she seemed to be willing to help.

“Why are you telling me this, Chalah?” Paige asked wearily, not bothering to hide her suspicion now. “By your own words, the brother who has spoiled you all your life might allow you to be stoned, or murdered for giving me this information. Why would you risk that?”

“Because you would do it for me,” Chalah said softly, her honey-gold eyes filling with pain. “And Khalid would do it for me. But even more importantly, for Jafar. Because if anything happens to you and Abram, and Jafar ever realizes the mistake he’s made, then it will kill him. Protecting him from himself is the only way I can help him at this point.”

“Even if you have to face being murdered by your brother? By your uncle?”

Chalah sighed heavily. “It isn’t murder here, Paige, not to these people or to this land. And not to Jafar or Azir. Betrayal isn’t tolerated, especially by a woman, and Jafar and Azir both would see it as an unforgiveable betrayal.”

“And you would risk that for me, Abram, and Khalid?” Paige asked her again. “I’m having a hard time believing that.”

Chalah wasn’t lying to her. She knew too many truths, understood the situation too clearly. But was she really trying to help, or in someway lead Abram into a trap?

“Really?” Chalah drawled as she crossed one ankle over the other and tilted her head to the side. “Why else would I return to this sun-baked wasteland but to try to help your stubborn ass? Have you really forgotten how much I hate this place, Paige?”

Paige shook her head as she kept a careful eye on the other woman. “We’ve been friends for a long time, Chalah.” She sighed. “But Jafar is your brother, and I know you love him.”

“And I do love him.” Chalah nodded sharply. “But Jafar is wrong, Paige, and I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you because of him. And I feel guilty,” she whispered miserably. “I knew he was up to something when he called and asked me if I knew why you weren’t at your apartment any longer and if I had heard where you were staying. I should have called you then. I should have warned you he was looking for you.”

But would it have really changed things? Would she have taken the situation even less seriously than she already had simply because she thought she could trust Jafar?

Paige lifted her hand to rub at her temple again as she watched Chalah thoughtfully. Everything she knew of the other girl told her that Chalah was being honest. That she was simply trying to help.

“I don’t have to agree with my brother to love him, Paige,” she said regretfully. “And loving him doesn’t mean I have to let him get away with what he’s doing to you and Abram.”

“And how do you think you can help?” Paige sighed as she paced to the table and sat down wearily. “Neither of us have enough power here to protect ourselves, let alone our brothers. And you know that as well as I do. You should go home and be safe. If anything happens to you, you’re only going to make Abram feel as though it were his fault. He has enough on his conscience.”

“And you think Jafar won’t have enough on his conscience when he realizes the mistake he’s made?” Chalah hissed back at her, her expressive eyes burning with anger. “I came here to help, Paige. To help my brother and yours, as well as Abram. I need to know what to do.”

Paige’s eyes rounded in surprise. “And you think I’d know what the hell you can do?” she whispered fiercely. “For God’s sake Chalah, I haven’t been out of these rooms since the day I came here. I have no idea what the hell is going on or how to help anyone. I don’t even see Abram until after dark, and when I do see him, he’s exhausted. So why don’t you tell me what I could do.”

Chalah stared back at her in dismay. Then her jaw tightened and she stomped to the end of the couch before turning back in frustration.

“There has to be something, Paige.”

Paige gave her head a quick shake as she kept her voice low. “Go home. Go back to school. If Abram has to worry about protecting you as well as me, then it’s only going to fracture his attention further. He can’t afford that right now.”

And she couldn’t afford it. Losing Abram would kill her, especially if she lost him because of his affection, his connection—whatever the hell it was—to her.

He had come back to Saudi Arabia rather than defecting as he’d planned after the deaths of his brothers.

He’d been forced to return to Saudi Arabia as a personal favor to the Saudi Arabian ambassador to take pictures of suspected terrorists. When he’d managed to get back to the U.S., he’d had to return again because of the threat to her.

He couldn’t seem to break away from the bloody legacy his father was creating here, or the threat of death that resulted from the pleasure he found in sharing his lover sexually.

“Jafar didn’t used to be like this.” Chalah sighed in regret as her lips trembled with the painful emotion she was feeling. “He wanted to be an American. He wanted to have the freedom to do as he wished, as Khalid did, as he knew Abram did.”

“He knew Abram wanted to defect to the U.S.?” Paige asked.

“Paige.” Chalah stared back at her in bemusement. “Abram, Tariq, Jafar, and several other cousins planned to defect together. It’s been their plan since Abram’s first wife, Lessa, was murdered by Ayid and Aman. Jafar has always known his plans, because they made them together.”

“And Jafar would know exactly how to block every move Abram made.” She sighed.

“But Abram knows what Jafar is aware of,” Chalah pointed out. “It’s some sort of battle between them.” The other girl frowned in confusion. “And I can’t understand what started it or why they are at odds with each other.”

It was the same problem Paige had, trying to figure out what had changed Jafar since the last time she had seen him. She had been vacationing with her parents in Greece, three, perhaps four years before.

As she watched, Chalah’s expression turned somber.

“Jafar was a good man once, wasn’t he, Paige?” she whispered, grief flashing in her eyes for just a moment.

Paige looked away for a second wondering if she should lie, of if she should tell Chalah how she felt in regards to good men.

“Men are what they are,” she finally said softly. “They’re either born mostly good, or they’re born mostly bad, just like anyone else is, Chalah. But the bad is always there, and for most men, the good is always there as well.”

“For most men?” Chalah asked with bitterness. Paige could see the need in her eyes for an affirmation that there was a chance that her brother wasn’t mostly, or even worse, fully bad.

“Sometimes, some men are always bad,” she said gently. “And then, there are those good men, those really really good men, Chalah, who just want everyone to think they’re bad for whatever reason.”

“And then,” Chalah whispered, tears filling her eyes. “There are those really bad men who are really good at making some people think they’re good.”

Paige dropped her eyes and crossed her arms over her breasts to hold back the pain she felt for the other girl, to hold back her need to comfort her.

She hadn’t decided yet, was Chalah the young woman she had once known? The future pediatrician with a gentle, loving heart, or was she one of those people everyone thought was good, but who for whatever reason, knew the evil inside her personally?

She lifted her eyes as Chalah sighed heavily. “Go home, Chalah,” she said softly. “If you really want to help Abram, if you really want to help Jafar, then go home.”

“Because you don’t trust me, and if you don’t trust me, then neither will Abram,” Chalah guessed.

“It has nothing to do with trust, Chalah, and everything to do with the fact that from the sound of it, you know more than I do about the entire situation. And I think you know that if you talk to Abram, then he’s going to tell you the same thing I did. Go home.”

Tears glittered in her eyes. “They’re my family, Paige. They’re all I have left.”

What the hell could she say? She knew exactly how she felt. After the death of her uncle when she was still a teenager she only had her parents and Khalid left, and she’d always been aware of the crosshairs Azir Mustafa kept the family under.

She’d always been aware that any time, she could either be dead, or alone.

As her lips parted to attempt to comfort the other girl, the sound of a heavy knock on the door sliced through the room, causing both women to jump, and Chalah’s eyes to flash with fear.

A fear far stronger than she should have felt.

“Chalah, it’s time to go.” Jafar’s voice was far cold than it had been earlier.

Paige swung her gaze around to the girl, and watched in fury as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. Slowly, she lifted her hand to the medallion on the necklace she wore, turned it around, and showed Paige the device on the back of it.

She’d seen enough television programs and read enough adventure-romance novels to know exactly what it was. An electronic listening device. And Chalah had waited until the last minute to show it to her.

Paige straightened slowly, her arms dropping to her sides as she flashed Chalah a look of promised retribution. One way, some way, she would repay her for this.

Go home! she mouthed. Now!

Because if she ever saw the younger girl again then she would ensure Chalah knew exactly how completely severed their friendship was.

Jerking the scarf around her head, neck, and finally tucking it around her face until nothing but her eyes showed, she moved with jerky fury to the door and wrenched it open.

Chalah had only just managed to pull the abaya back on and secure the mesh over her eyes when Paige found herself facing the stone-hard, pale-eyed monster that watched her with calculating eyes.

She didn’t dare speak. There were rules and punishments, consequences and dangers to uttering even one of the curses tearing through her brain now.

Hatred welled inside her, blistering hot and searing her from the inside out.

What had Jafar hoped to gain by using his sister this way?

She stood back and turned slowly to stare at Chalah.

“Good-bye,” she stated with a withering stare. A ring of finality clearly echoed as she refused to say anything more.

She wouldn’t endanger the younger girl, but if Chalah dared to return then the rules would change.

“Good-bye, Paige,” Chalah said softly, miserably. Before Paige could avoid her, the other girl wrapped her arms around her in a tight, desperate hug. She whispered, “I swear, I’m good.”

Paige stepped back slowly, deliberately pushing her away as her gaze moved to Jafar once again. He had forced Chalah, there was no doubt, but she had still betrayed Paige, Abram, and Tariq. She should have shown her the device before they ever spoke.

“Tell Abram when he returns that it would not be advisable to leave at night any longer, for either him or Tariq,” he warned evenly, his pale green eyes like glass, cold and unemotional as his gaze flicked over her. “Or, Ms. Galbraithe, for you.”

He reached past her, gripped Chalah’s upper arm, and all but jerked her from the room.

He hadn’t gotten what he wanted, and now his sister would pay for it, and Chalah knew it.

Her head was down, her shoulders shuddering as silent sobs shook her beneath the heavy shroud.

Paige prayed that the beating she knew Chalah would take for failure was the only punishment she would receive before Jafar allowed her to return to America, and to school.

Chalah had one dream, to be a pediatrician in America. But Paige doubted Jafar would allow her to keep it for long.

Pulling his sister after him, Jafar turned and strode away, his long-legged stride causing Chalah to struggle to keep up with him as they moved around the bend of the hall and disappeared from view.

Paige closed and locked the door carefully before leaning against it and letting a silent sob ripple through her own body. How close she had come to trusting the other girl and attempting to ease the pain she had felt in her. How close she had come to destroying herself, Tariq, and worst of all, Abram.

“The listening device didn’t work, Paige.”

Jerking, she turned to see Tariq standing behind her, his expression creased with anger and his own sorrow. “I detected it the second she and Jafar knocked on the door.” He lifted the device he had been working on. “I fixed it.”

She turned and wiped her eyes. “That only detects it,” she whispered painfully.

He shook his head. “I switched on a device beneath the table before I left that alters the audio signal, either analog or digital. I didn’t disable it until I saw you weren’t going to betray Abram. Then, I used the controls in my suite to allow enough out to whoever was listening to assure them that you weren’t shit, even if you knew. Perhaps, Jafar will send her home now.”

He moved closer as more tears fell down her face, as she sniffed back the pain that tore through her and the disillusionment that shredded her heart.

“I hate this place,” she suddenly spat, though the sobs, as quiet as they were, roughened her voice to a rasp. “Oh God, Tariq, I hate this place.”

He stepped closer, his expression suddenly tired, and just as disillusioned as she felt. “And you aren’t alone,” he whispered as he tucked a heavy strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips caressing her ear gently for a fragile second before they dropped away. “Trust me, Paige, in that, you will never be alone.”