SHEIKH’S SURPRISE SON

DESERT KINGS BOOK 1

SOPHIA LYNN
ELLA BROOKE
Copyright © 2020 by Sophia Lynn & Ella Brooke
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author,
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This story is a work of fiction and any portrayal of any person living or dead is purely coincidental
and not intended.
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
 CLICK HERE
to subscribe to my newsletter & get EXCLUSIVE updates on all offers,
secret previews, and new releases!
 CHAPTER 1

T he moment Bailey Andress set foot in the village of Ikkar in the small
Middle Eastern country of Amil, she knew there was something
special about it. It was more than just the pristine white beaches, the way
the blue sky arched over the pure waves like the most gorgeous painting
ever made. It was more than the colorful markets she explored in the
daytime and the food she tried in the walled courtyards of the humble
restaurants.
Instead, it was the peace she could feel settling into her bones the
moment she stepped out of the bus that had dropped her off with a handful
of travelers. Unlike so many of the other places she had explored in her
work, the other passengers were mostly locals rather than backpackers or
tourists. Ikkar, with its gorgeous landscape and its beauty, was still off the
maps, and she came in with a tingle between her shoulders that she was on
to something very exciting.
Bailey had been in Ikkar a week, and besides a failed pickpocketing and
a misunderstanding about the payment at the hostel, she had had an
amazing time while she was working.
Dad's money could really do some good here, she thought late one
afternoon. The people here could have jobs that paid way more than
anything they have right now; they could really build this place up.
Amil was one of the more liberal countries in the region, modern in the
capital, but here in Ikkar, a woman would still get scowls of disapproval
from men and women alike if she went out with her head bare or in shorts.
Accordingly, Bailey wore the traditional long tunic and trousers with a
matching scarf that neatly covered her red hair. There was no hiding her
blue eyes, however, or her pale skin, and she had learned to ignore the
speculative looks wherever she went. Amil was known for its safety, and
she had never backed down from a challenge in the few years she had been
working for her father.
After a fine dinner of lamb at one of the courtyard restaurants, she
turned towards the beach as the sun set, pulling her phone out of her bag.
Okay, it's late enough to call home…
It occurred to her, however, as the phone dialed, that she hadn't thought
of Boston as home in a long while.
I wonder where it is now, she thought with a little bit of amusement. I
wonder if home is on an airplane now, or maybe in a hostel or on a bus…
“Andress here,” came the clipped response, and Bailey laughed.
“Dad, you can see it's my name on the screen, right?”
“Who has the time to check that?” asked her father, a slight smile
coming into his voice. “Good timing, I was just about ready to go out to the
club.”
“You and your club,” Bailey scoffed. There was a part of her that
wished her father would drop his habit of cigars and brandy at the club after
dinner. “Have you got a minute for me to tell you about what I've found?”
“Some grubby little place that you want me to rehabilitate, I'm sure,” he
said dryly. “Shoot.”
She laughed, because when it came to location scouting for her father's
empire, she had been one of the best for the last few years running. It took
patience to do this job and also to put up with Roland Andress's abrasive
personality, but she had a great deal of experience, starting from when she
was five and their little family had been reduced from three to two.
As Bailey wound up her summation of what she had found in Ikkar, her
father was silent. She could imagine him in the big house in Boston, pacing
back and forth in front of the big bay windows, looking at nothing in
particular as his brain ground through the details she had given him. He was
a careful man, shrewd and tough. His enemies would have called him hard,
and Bailey could see where they had gotten the idea. Sometimes, it felt as if
she were the only one who saw the occasional bit of softness to her father,
the compassion that kept her working for him when most of her classmates
had moved on to careers out of their parents' shadows.
“Sounds like you might be on to something, kiddo,” he said, and she
grinned at the rare nickname. “Are you willing to go to the mat for it?”
 A few years ago, she would have hemmed and hawed, because that
meant that her father would put all his efforts into her yes. One of the
reasons why Andress Ventures did so well was because they ran lean and
mean, as Roland said. He was willing to put the company's formidable
resources behind her if she said yes, and it had been terrifying when she
was just a few years younger.
Now Bailey looked up and down the beach that she had walked along,
out at the first stars coming out over the sea, back to the whisper of the
palm trees behind her, and grinned.
“Yeah,” she said. “One hundred percent, Dad. This is where everyone
wants to be.”
Roland laughed, and she could imagine that grin stretching over his
face, so similar to her own.
“Well, well. Sounds like you're sure. I'll get the ball rolling. You stay put
and keep an eye out for anyone who might have the same idea.”
“Got it.”
“You have a good eye, kiddo,” he said. “Sounds like you got a good
one.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she said, and she only rolled her eyes when he hung up.
Honestly, I wouldn't mind a little more atta girl when he's feeling
generous, she thought, but she had made her peace with her father's
brusqueness years ago. She could have chosen to distance herself from his
seemingly cold ways; she could have left home, found a new family and
never looked back.
Instead, Bailey had chosen to love her father, and even if their
relationship was far from conventional, she felt she had made the right
choice.
It's just a little lonely sometimes, she thought, staring out over the water,
and then she shook her head ruefully.
It was only the beauty of the place that was making her feel so strange
and wistful, she decided. She had long made peace with what she had and
what she didn't have, and besides, her father had just said that she was good
at her work, at their work. That wasn't nothing.
I should get back to the hostel, she thought reluctantly. I have some
reading about the region I want to do, my Arabic won't study itself, and I
know this area gets a little rough when…
 Almost as if in response to her half-formed thoughts, Bailey became
aware of rustling in the bushes just beyond her. There were no large animals
wandering the area, the people had assured her, and whatever that was, it
was large.
Large enough to be a man, she thought, her eyes narrowing. Large
enough to be a few of them.
Deliberately, Bailey turned her head as if she was only watching the
water again, and the rustling started up again, as if relieved she hadn't
noticed.
There was a part of her that wanted to turn around and confront
whoever wanted to stalk her. Chances were good that it was only some local
teens out for some fun – a game of scare the foreigner was a common form
of entertainment all over the world. However, there was a chance, however
small, that whoever was in the bushes was something much more serious,
and Bailey liked to play it safe.
Phone clutched in her hand, she simply sprinted down the beach, the
cries that went up behind her outraged and telling her she had guessed right,
that there were men behind her.
Those aren't kids, she thought grimly, and she ran harder, her feet
kicking up sand as she went. She was fit, in good shape from her restless
roaming lifestyle, but her heart still skipped a beat when she heard the hard
pounding footsteps behind her.
Dammit, go away, just go away!
She didn't start to get really panicked, however, until she looked up and
realized that instead of running towards the village of Ikkar, she was
running away, south along the beach instead of north. Instead of running
towards the town where she would find help and shelter, she was sprinting
along the beach, towards the wilder areas. There were a few homes along
this stretch, she knew from her wanderings, but whether any of them would
take in a woman on the run was a question that had no certain answer.
The pursuers were gaining on her, and Bailey felt a trickle of fear run
down her spine.
Why didn't I stay closer to the town? What in the world was I thinking?
She banished the thoughts as they would not serve her well at all, and
instead started glancing left and right as she ran. There was still some
distance between her and her pursuers, and she had to use every advantage
she had.
 I could cut through the woods, but I don't know where that would take
me, and I know there are ravines. I could turn and face them, tell them that
my phone has a direct feed of them going right to the cops... I could…
She paused as the glint of the ocean caught her eye.
It'll still be warm enough that I wouldn't even be too uncomfortable.
There are riptides, but I know how to get out of a riptide. Well, I wasn't
planning on going for a swim right now, but what the hell...
Bailey was just getting ready to lunge for the water, riptides be damned,
when her foot caught in a hollow in the sand. There was no way to avoid it
– it was practically invisible in the dying light, but she fell forward, all of
her momentum throwing her to the ground. The fall stunned her, but she
was already twisting around, trying to figure out where her pursuers were,
and then suddenly, the sky was blotted out entirely.
 CHAPTER 2

S heikh Adnan Haddid had not meant to ride that far that night. He had
intended only to take his mare out as far as the breakwater and then
back again as a way of clearing his mind, but something about the bracing
sea air, the way Mara took the bit in her teeth and strained towards the sand
made him push forward.
I suppose I had more of my mind to clear than not, he reflected as Mara
broke into the long loping gait characteristic of her ancient breed.
Horsemanship had always been a birthright of his family, but he had
taken to it more than his cousins or even his father and his uncle. Being in
the saddle put him in a place where the only mastery anyone cared about
was what he could exert over his mount, and after a long day arguing with
men from all over the world, of trying to keep the peace both home and
abroad, it was exhilarating.
“You want to run tonight, eh, Mara?” he murmured, the wind whipping
his face. “All right, pretty. All right, let's see how far you can stretch your
legs.”
He took her farther up the beach, her neck proudly arched and then
extended as he gave her her head. Moments like this, Adnan could leave it
all behind him, racing with the sea on one hand and Amil on his other. He
didn't have to think, he didn't have to be responsible; all that mattered was
how he and Mara flowed along the ground like water, like a storm…
A soft cry cut through the soft sea air like a knife, and Adnan pulled up
for a moment in surprise. There were some small wild cats that sounded
like crying babies when they were hunting, but a second cry told him that
this was no animal. He touched his heels to Mara's flanks and they were off
again, this time with more purpose than before. Even Mara seemed to sense
the urgency Adnan had heard in that cry, and his mount flew as if she had
wings.
“Come on,” he murmured to her, “Come on...”
A moment later, they swung around a bend in the trees, and the sight
made his blood boil. On the ground was the crouched form of a woman, and
advancing on her were two men. There was nothing in their posture or their
gait that meant her any good, and with a roar, Adnan urged Mara on. With
the grace of a horse that had been trained to march in place and to strike and
rear at his command, she circled the prone woman and planted herself
firmly between her and the advancing men.
One of the men, the smarter of the two, took to his heels, but the second
one snarled, reaching into his waistband to withdraw a snub-nosed gun.
Something clicked in the back of Adnan's mind, trying to categorize the
gun, but he was already moving instinctively, launching himself from the
back of his horse, swinging himself so he struck the man square in the
frame from above.
The man shouted, the gun went off, and Adnan bore his opponent to the
ground, his large hand forcing the gun from his opponent.
“If you have hurt her,” he growled. “If one hair has been harmed on her
head...”
The man might have been slower than his friend, but apparently enough
was enough. Quick as a weasel, he twisted out of Adnan's grip, taking to his
heels. There was a moment when every instinct in Adnan's body told him to
give chase, to make sure that the man and his friend never did anything like
that again, but then he remembered himself.
That woman is probably frightened out of her mind, especially since the
gun went off. I should—
But before he could even think about what he should do, Adnan found
small hands on his shoulders, more strength than he thought they would
possess turning him around and helping him sit up.
“Are you hurt? Are you all right? Did that bullet hit you?”
Her words were in English, but then they shifted abruptly.
“Are you ill?” his would-be rescuer asked him in clumsy Arabic. “Do
you need a doctor?”
Adnan started to laugh, shaking his head.
 “No,” he said kindly in English. “No, I do not need a doctor, I do not
have the flu—”
Then his words cut off, and in the very last light of the sun, he looked
up into the face of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.
In the struggle, her scarf had fallen off her head, and he could see the
fiery gleam of her hair falling over her shoulder in a thick braid. Her
features were delicate, fine as china, and he had the idea that she would
likely be quite pale if the sun hadn't kissed her skin, giving it a warm and
golden glow.
It was her eyes that caught him though; so blue that the color was clear
even in the failing light, large and rimmed with dark eyelashes that gave her
an oddly sweet look.
“Hey,” she said finally. “Say something.”
“What do you want me to say?” Adnan asked, and then he coughed
when he realized that he sounded like a moonstruck teenage boy.
“Are you all right?” he asked, climbing to his feet. “You were on the
ground when I came up.”
“When you came to my rescue, you mean,” she said with a snort. There
was a kind of no-nonsense air to her that he liked instantly, and she shook
her scarf to get the sand out of it with quick and graceful motions.
“I'm fine,” she continued. “More a victim of my own clumsiness than
anything else. Still, that could have been nasty. Thank you.”
“Are you sure? No sprains, no bumps or bruises?”
The gorgeous girl grinned at him ruefully.
“I really should be asking you that, even if my Arabic is awful. When
that gun went off, I thought my heart was going to stop.”
“I do beg your pardon for that,” Adnan said with a grin. “It was fine
though. It was pointed well away from me. I should go into town and give
the local police a description of those two, however. This area has always
been safe, and I would like to see it stay that way.”
The girl hesitated.
“Should I go and give a description as well?”
Adnan understood her wince. Throughout the world, women weren't
given credence when they reported attacks from men, and she was
obviously a foreigner in Amil.
“If you wish to do so, you should. I will be there, and no one will
disbelieve you if I back you up.”
 “Awfully confident, aren't you?” she asked with a slight laugh, and
Adnan smiled. It was coming to him slowly that she had no idea who he
was, and why should she? He might have been well known in international
circles, even commanded some attention in the gossip magazines, but that
was in the capital. He was a known presence in the capital of Koli-an, but
no one expected to find him the rural areas of the country.
“I can be. My name is Adnan,” he said. “If you like, I can simply escort
you to where you are staying and make sure you are secure for the night.”
She turned to face him directly, and Adnan was struck by her presence.
She was of middling height and slender, but there was a confidence and
assertiveness about her that caught his eye. This was a woman who would
stand up for herself, who would get the information she needed before she
committed.
“And if I go with you to the police?”
He raised his eyebrows at that.
“You'll give your report. You will be believed. Then I shall take you to
where you are staying.”
He tilted his head, looking at her more carefully. There was a kind of
recklessness to her, something a little wild. She was daring, and after the
brief fight, he wasn't interested in going home to sleep either.
“Or I suppose if you wish, after we have done our duty, we could look
for some food and see where the night takes us.”
A smile spread over her face, and Adnan felt his heart beat faster and
his body tense with pleasure. What a woman he had found.
“I think I'd like that very much,” she said.
 CHAPTER 3

T he police station was small and clean, and reporting the incident to the
man at the counter was far less of an ordeal than Bailey thought it
would be. It didn't take much more than half an hour, and the questions
were kept brief, clear and easy, and more importantly, she was believed.
In a short while, she was back in warm night, the man who had
introduced himself as Adnan standing by her side. As she stretched the
kinks out of her shoulders, she watched him out of the corner of her eye as
he checked his phone.
He was a big man, broad through the shoulders and in the casual clothes
he wore, almost movie star-handsome. He was clean-shaven with the ink-
dark hair that was so common in this part of the world, and there was
something almost ridiculously commanding about him, as if he expected the
entire world to give him his due.
I don't know if this is usually my type, but he is, she thought with a little
bit of amusement.
She generally preferred the easy-going type, and she could already tell
that Adnan probably wasn't that. Still, there was something to be said for a
man who rode to her rescue on a horse and then gave her a lift on said horse
to the local police station to make a report.
“Thanks,” she said, and Adnan pocketed his phone, giving her a
quizzical look.
“For what?” he asked in genuine confusion, and she laughed.
“Seriously? For saving my rear on the beach, for the ride on your horse,
for the help in the police station. I know that they wouldn't have been so
very nice to me without you glaring at them over my shoulder.”
 Adnan made a face.
“I'm sorry for that,” he said. “Sometimes a little pressure in the right
place is necessary to see justice done.”
“Well, if you're apologizing for men everywhere, I suppose I can accept
for women all over the world,” Bailey said with some amusement.
“And the invitation to dinner?” asked Adnan almost innocently. “Are
you of a mind to accept that as well? Though that's just for you. I think I do
rather well for myself, but I'm not able to buy dinner for all the world's
women.”
“Oh, very smooth, nice segue,” she said with a laugh.
There was a moment where she hesitated. Bailey knew herself fairly
well, and she knew that she was already drawn to this man. At this stage of
the job she was doing for her father, there was very little she could afford
less than an entanglement, no matter how casual or easy. At the same time,
there was something about the way that Adnan was looking at her,
something half-inviting and half-challenging in her eyes that made her lift
her chin.
“All right,” she said. “But I'm paying.”
To her surprise, he draped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her close
with a smoky grin on his face. From another man, it would have been too
much, too pushy, possibly even threatening, but for some reason, from
Adnan, it was just right.
“Not a chance,” he purred. “You don't pay when I'm the one doing the
inviting.”
As they walked down the road, the night market around them springing
to life as vendors spread out their wares and lit the intricate wooden lanterns
that were so much a part of Ikkar's landscape, Bailey laughed.
“So when I'm doing the inviting, you'll let me pay?”
“Mm, I suppose I'll think about it.”
“Very fair of you!”
“I think so,” he said with mock seriousness. “And perhaps you'll tell me
your name at some point. Surely I have earned it by now?”
“You didn't catch it in the police station?”
“I'm afraid I was too busy glaring, as you said.”
Bailey pressed herself a little more firmly under Adnan's arm, liking
how solid his body was next to hers. Her mind was still full of all of the
reasons it would be a terrible idea to have any sort of entanglement while
she was at work, but there was an insidious little voice that whispered that
surely there was enough space for a fling, a very small one?
Surely it would be fine.
“Bailey,” she said finally, and she watched as a slow smile, sweet as
honey, crossed his face. “My name is Bailey.”
“Bailey,” he said, as if tasting her name on his tongue. “So very good to
meet you, Bailey.”

Adnan took her to a small restaurant that was located in the basement of an
older house. The thick walls kept it cool, and it was lit with electric lights
designed to resemble candles, giving the entire place a mysterious and
antique feel. The waiter, a teenage boy with a long apron thrown over his
caftan, seemed to recognize Adnan and showed him straight to a small
alcove at the rear of the seating space.
“Very nice,” Bailey said, settling onto the padded bench next to Adnan.
“Very elegant.”
“I usually like things a little more modern than this,” Adnan admitted,
“but the food here is the best.”
It struck Bailey that there was something almost embarrassed about
Adnan just then, as if he was slightly abashed for not taking her to the finest
of white tablecloth establishments. She laughed, squeezing his hand gently.
“I'm going to love whatever it is they are serving,” she promised. “It
smells amazing.”
Soon enough, Bailey was proved correct, and a platter of roast chicken
was presented to them along with a cloth-lined basket of small round
flatbreads, brushed with olive oil and sprinkled with herbs.
“Here,” Adnan said. “You fold the bread like this, and fill it with slices
of chicken. Then you can dip it in the yogurt sauce, like this.”
She thought he would take a bite to show her, but instead, he presented
it to her. There was nothing self-conscious about the way he did it, nothing
nervous or pushy. Intrigued, she took a bite and chewed, blinking a little in
pleasure as she did so. The flatbread was crispy on the outside, soft and
fluffy within, and the chicken was utterly perfect; flavorful, moist and just
the right balance of spicy and sweet and slightly sour.
 “This is incredible,” she said, and Adnan laughed, taking the bundle he
had prepared back and taking a bigger bite for himself.
“Ikkar is known for this chicken dish, but I believe this place does it the
best...”
She eagerly went to prepare her own flatbread, and for a short while,
they ate in companionable silence.
Apparently a night like I've had works up an appetite, she thought with
amusement.
It wasn't until the end of the meal, when the teenager had brought them
warm damp towels to clean their hands, that the music started, and Bailey's
ears pricked up immediately.
This is exactly what the people who might visit Dad's resort are looking
for, she thought. Good food, good music. This is amazing, they're going to
love it, and the people preparing the food, playing the music, their lives are
going to change as well…
Adnan had noticed her interest, and he grinned.
“A bit different than what you're used to?” he asked teasingly. “That's
an oud and a daf, and they're played all over the Middle East. I don't
suppose you hear them very much in the club scene.”
Bailey laughed, shaking her head.
“And you are so old that you've graduated from the club scene entirely?
You're maybe five years older than me at most.”
“I'm twenty-nine,” he said, mock-affronted, and she laughed again.
“Called it. I'm twenty-four, and I haven't been to a club in ages.”
“Then of course you have forgotten how to dance.”
“Well, I was never very good at it—”
She would have said more, but then a couple close to the musicians
seated on the dais went out to the broad empty area in the front of the
restaurant. Bailey watched enthralled as they spun around, reaching their
hands for each other, brushing just the fingertips before they spun away
again. Soon enough, another couple joined them, and then another and
another.
Bailey was just puzzling out the steps when Adnan suddenly seized her
hand and tugged her towards the floor.
“Oh come on, I just got done telling you that I wasn't good at this!”
“Then get better,” Adnan retorted, and then she was on the floor facing
him, glad she had been watching the dancers so intently a moment before.
Close as she had been watching, however, she still turned the wrong way
and bumped into the people around her, but far from being irritated or
annoyed, they only laughed, pointing her in the right direction and bumping
her towards Adnan.
The dance was easy, the same series of steps over and over again, but
then came the variations she could see the men and women doing all around
her, where one set of turns was emphasized by a stomp of the foot or where
one meeting was rebuffed with a hand held over one's face.
The music grew faster, but at the same time, Bailey got better, fluttering
her eyelashes outrageously at Adnan or even blowing him a kiss as they
danced closer and then drifted apart. The floor was full of people flirting
with their partners, and Bailey had to keep her laughter in check so she
wouldn't simply stumble into someone and knock them to the ground.
Then between one moment and another, the music changed, the women
left the floor, and Adnan swung her by the arm away and towards the
entrance.
“Did I finally mess up the steps one too many times?” she asked,
breathless, and Adnan laughed, shaking his head.
“They're doing the men's dances next,” he said. “They're a little rougher,
and I thought they'd be less interesting for you.”
“I'm very interested as long as no one gets rough with me,” Bailey said,
and then Adnan shot her a significant look.
“I thought there might be something else you’d be interested in?” he
asked delicately, and his meaning became crystal clear to her.
“Oh!” she said, and then more softly, “oh...”
Adnan shrugged, that same easy-going smile on his face.
“It's up to you. If you'd like to go back to your hotel, I'll certainly take
you there, however…”
Bailey started to ask him however, what, but then he pulled her into his
arms in the restaurant courtyard, under the shade of a fragrant-leafed tree,
and his mouth covered hers.
The kiss tasted lightly of the mint drink they had both had, and then as
he tilted her back and deepened the kiss, Bailey felt as if she was losing
herself to it, as if she were slipping and sliding away into a moment where
there was nothing but the two of them, nothing but the warmth of his body
through their clothes, the strength of his arms, the wild emotions that his
kiss stirred in her.
 Last chance to get out, something in her said. Last chance to walk
away…
She pushed it aside. It didn't matter. This was just for fun. She could
have just a night of fun before she got back to work, and after all, the music
and the food she had had this evening were, as enjoyable as they had been,
a part of her work as well.
She could have this.
Adnan pulled back long before she was ready, and in the light hanging
from the post beside them, his eyes looked as dark as midnight, and his
mouth was almost achingly tender. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it
occurred to her that he was getting away from something too, that he was
telling himself that it would only be one night, just like she was telling
herself the same thing.
With a soft sigh, she gave herself up to the passion that was tugging at
her core. Something about him seemed to put a hook straight into her heart,
and now she had no choice but to follow.
 CHAPTER 4

B ailey hadn't thought that they would spend the night in the closet-like
room of her hostel, but at the same time, she hadn't expected him to
take her to a small house on the edge of town. It was a beautiful little place,
the walls whitewashed and clean, the red roof tiles reminding her of places
she had been throughout the Mediterranean. There was a wall surrounding
the property, keeping in a gorgeous garden, and around the back, she could
see a small paddock, where the mare they had rode into town was stabled in
a small shed.
“This place is yours?” she asked, following him in. “I'll be honest, I had
you pegged as a more urban kind of guy.”
Something about what she said made him laugh, and when he closed the
door after them, Adnan pulled her into his arms again, kissing her, if
anything, more thoroughly than he had before.
“Tell me what else you think of me,” he murmured, nuzzling the tender
crook of her neck right beside her ear. “Why don't you tell me all about
myself?”
“So very nice when a man tells me up front how vain he is,” she started,
but then she gasped when the tip of his tongue found just the right spot at
the base of her throat; the perfect spot to send a rush of feelings straight
through her and make her shudder.
“Every man is vain,” he retorted. “Some of us are just more quiet about
it than others.”
Bailey started to respond to that, but then Adnan swept her up in his
arms, picking her up as if she weighed nothing and kissing her at the same
time. Startled, she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him back
fiercely as he carried her into the bedroom.
It was large room, and the bed, almost the only piece of furniture,
seemed to fill it from end to end. She caught a glimpse of what looked like
acres of soft blue sheets, and then Adnan threw her lightly onto the surface,
making her laugh with delight.
“You ought to be careful with that,” she said teasingly. “I might decide
that the only thing I want is piggyback rides, and then where would you
be?”
“Giving you piggy back rides until I can convince you I am good for
other things,” Adnan retorted, and then he was clambering onto the bed
with her, kicking off his shoes as she flicked off her own sandals. Then she
was back in his arms, and Bailey's jokes ran straight out of her head. God,
how in the world could she think of anything else when this man was
around for her to kiss?
Passion was rising up in her steadily, but even more extraordinarily, she
could feel it rise up in Adnan as well. She knew somewhere deep and
primal inside her that he wanted this as much as she did, and somehow that
made her want him even more. His skin felt hot through his clothes, and
suddenly Bailey realized she was desperate to feel his skin against hers.
She reached up, tugging at his fine cotton shirt.
“Take this off,” she whispered. “I want to see you. To feel you.”
Something dark and hot sparked in Adnan's eyes, and a wickedly
dangerous smile played over his lips.
“I like a woman who knows what she wants,” he murmured, and he
knelt up on the bed.
He didn't perform a striptease exactly, but there was a certain awareness
of her gaze as he slid his shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor.
God, he looked good clothed, how in the world does he look even better
naked?
She could see the definition of his muscles, the even, smooth brown of
his skin, the trail of dark hair that started on his belly and descended into his
trousers.
Bailey caught her breath at his large and graceful hands opening his
trousers and sliding them down, revealing slim muscular hips and…
“Oh,” she said, her voice faint and her eyes fixed. She didn't even
realize she was staring until Adnan laughed softly.
 “So do I pass muster?” he asked, his voice rich and throbbing with
amusement.
“You do,” Bailey said. “Oh, please, come here.”
Adnan discarded the rest of his clothes with admirable speed, and then
he was back and taking her in his arms again, his mouth hard and hot as he
kissed her, starting with her mouth and then going right down her chin.
“You are a wicked woman,” he murmured between kisses, “getting me
all bare while staying so clothed. I suppose I shall have to fix that...”
Before she knew quite what he was doing, he had skimmed the edge of
her tunic up, pulling the whole thing over her head and taking her scarf with
it. Free of the scarf, and coming loose from the braid, her hair fell down
around her shoulders, and Adnan took away the elastic holding her braid in
place.
“Such beauty,” he murmured, almost to himself. Bailey almost purred as
he stroked his fingers through the slippery strands, coming back to massage
her scalp gently.
“You make me glad that I didn't cut it when things got warm,” she said,
and he rewarded her with another kiss.
Then his hands were at the waistband of her loose trousers, and a
moment later, she was in her underwear under his dark and intent gaze.
There was a moment where she wished she had had the foresight to wear
something besides a beige bra and panties, but when Adnan moved to take
them off, it didn't matter at all.
She whimpered as their bodies pressed together, the sound high and
wanting. It made Adnan pause for a moment, a look of concern on his face.
“Bailey, are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said. “Only. Um. We should talk about protection?”
The words came out a little higher and more questioning than she would
have liked, but Adnan only looked at her tenderly, reaching up to smooth
her hair back from her face.
“Of course. I never want to hurt you, darling.”
He reached into the small bedside drawers, rummaged for a moment,
and pulled out a box of condoms, making her grin a little.
“That's a box of twelve. Are you feeling ambitious?”
“It's always good to be prepared,” Adnan retorted, and then he returned
to kissing her.
 For a little while, Bailey lost the thread of how things were meant to go.
She had always believed in being a willing and giving partner, but with
Adnan, it was too easy to forget all about it. It was far, far too easy to lie
down and let him touch and explore her, to give herself over to the kind of
pleasure that she had sort of thought was just a dream or a fantasy. It
seemed as if his mouth and his hands were everywhere, waking her skin up
in a dozen new ways that she had never really anticipated before.
Slowly, with painstaking care, he worked his way down her body,
nuzzling at her small breasts and making her sensitive pink nipples rise into
stiff peaks under his gentle lips. He seemed to instinctively know how very
easily she could be overwhelmed, how little it would take to cross over into
something that was far less pleasant.
Before Bailey quite knew what was happening, she was arching up into
his hands and mouth, whimpering and asking for more, and then he settled
his large hand between her legs, cupping her soft mound with a tenderness
that took her breath away.
“May I touch you here?” he asked, with the devil's own glint in his eye,
and Bailey couldn't stop herself from stuttering out a longing yes.
He settled her into the crook of his arm, snuggling her close to his body
as he stroked her between the legs. She threw one leg over his, desperate to
give him more, and his erection brushed against her thigh as she did so.
“You're turned on,” she whispered, almost startled, and the laugh that
rumbled through his body was as dark and rich as chocolate.
“More than you would believe,” he said. “Now hush, I am looking after
you for the moment.”
She wasn't sure what she made out of being looked after by a man she
had only met a few hours ago, but when his slid his fingers over her most
sensitive flesh, the last thing in the world she wanted was to fight it.
“Oh,” she murmured, burying her face in his muscular shoulder. “Oh
that feels so good...”
It was just the beginning, and her frame grew tauter and tighter as he
stroked her, his fingers sliding over and over along her slit before finally
entering her. There was nothing coarse or demanding about his touch.
Instead, it was beautifully sweet and caring, something so wonderful that
she barely knew what was going on before she started to shake.
When Bailey realized she was trembling, it was almost too late to stop
it. She could feel from the way her core tightened, the way her muscles
trembled, that her release was coming, and it shocked her how quickly and
easily it had come.
“Adnan,” Bailey said urgently. “You… I'm going to...”
“That's exactly what I want,” he murmured, brushing his warm lips
against her cheek. “Come for me, darling.”
It was the sweetness of his voice that did it, and the command as well.
Bailey found herself helpless to resist it, and then, just as he had told her to,
she was toppling over the edge, her entire body shaking with the urgency of
her release as she whimpered desperately for more.
It was as if she had been struck by lightning, and for several long
moments, all she could do was cling to Adnan, mouthing his name against
his shoulder, her leg locked around his thigh as he gently pulled his fingers
from her body.
When she could gather herself to speak, when she could finally make
words happen again, there was only one thing that she wanted to say.
“Want you,” she whispered insistently. “I want you right now.”
Adnan started to respond to her, but then she traced her fingertips across
his smooth hot shaft, even harder now and pressed against her hip. He
shuddered as if she had shocked him, and when she drew her palm along his
length, he growled something that sounded a lot like her name.
“Please,” she murmured, and then he toppled her onto her back, rising
up over her like something dark and wild from the desert.
“Want you so very much,” he growled, and then he was kneeling
between her spread legs, his strong hands cradling her hips and tilting them
up towards him.
Bailey whimpered at the first touch of his cock against her, and she
gasped with pleasure as he slid the blunt tip just barely between her lips,
moving up and down over the flesh he had recently made so soft and sweet.
“Please, please, please, oh!”
She let out a soft and longing cry as Adnan slid into her with one long
stroke, smooth and filling her in a single moment. She was momentarily
stunned by how well they fit, by how good he felt, and then she unraveled
in a long moan as he started to move.
There was never a moment when she thought he was apart from her,
when he was after only his own pleasure. Her name fell from his lips, and
she couldn't resist the urge to wrap her legs around his waist to draw him
even closer. With every stroke, Bailey could feel the way he burned for her,
how every motion brought him closer to what they both wanted.
“Bailey, ah, Bailey!”
“Oh, please,” she whimpered, burying her face in his chest. “Please, let
me, have me...”
Bailey didn't even know what she was asking for until the core of her
body tightened again and she threw her head back in surprise. She had
known she would take pleasure from this act, but she had had no idea that
she would have it again, that she could even take it again.
Now, she was tightening and shuddering around him, her body arching
up against his, and she knew that whether she had planned it or not, it was
happening. Just as Adnan thrust into her one last time, she let out a long and
wondering cry, her body clinging to his, rent with pleasure and wild with
fulfilled need.
For a moment, Adnan clung to her, his weight falling down on her like
the most delicious blanket. When he tried to move off of her, she clung to
him, shaking her head.
“Bailey, are you all right?”
“I am,” she murmured. “Only stay right where you are. You feel too
good to lose right now.”
“You're not going to lose me,” he said tenderly, and though she knew
that this was a one night stand, a fling that neither of them could really
afford to repeat, she let the sweetness of the words sink into her anyway.
“Still, just stay where you are.”
He sighed, and though he leaned his weight on his elbows, he stayed
where he was, covering her with his strength and his warmth.
“We forgot the condom,” she said after a moment, and Adnan made a
soft considering sound.
“We won't next time.”
His self-assurance made her laugh.
“So very confident that there is going to be a next time?” she asked
teasingly, and then she gasped as Adnan rolled over onto his back, carrying
her with him, their bodies still intimately joined. She ended up sprawled on
top of him, and now she was looking down at his handsome face, the flash
of his white teeth, the sheer and indefatigable maleness of him.
“I think I might be able to convince you,” he said, his voice utterly
guileless.
 “You know, I think I would have to see that to believe it,” she said with
dignity, and Adnan laughed, rolling his hips up and making her catch her
breath.
 CHAPTER 5

W hen Adnan woke, the light creeping around the edges of the blinds
told him it was mid-morning at least, and he frowned. He hadn't
risen with the dawn since he was in school and going to various sports
practices, but he usually didn't like to sleep the day away.
He realized that it wasn't just the hour that was throwing him off a little.
It was also the fact that the bed was empty, and it felt as if it shouldn't have
been. Another moment, and the events of the night before came back to
him, and he scowled.
I didn't want her to creep out of here as if she was ashamed of what we
did, he thought, trying to ignore the way the idea of that gnawed at his
heart.
She is only a naive young woman. I wanted to make sure she was well
after everything we did. Perhaps we could have spoken longer or had
breakfast.
Adnan sighed, knowing how ridiculous that would have been.
It was a fling, and there was nothing wrong with that as long as it stayed
a fling. She had apparently understood that better than he had. He could
take a lesson from her.
He told himself such things throughout his shower, but when he came
out, his ears pricked up at the sound of light footsteps in the kitchen. It
seemed as if his rather charming guest hadn't left after all, and for some
reason, that made his heart skip a beat.
Silently, dressed only in his silk robe and a clean pair of boxers, Adnan
made his way to the living room, which opened out to a gorgeous view of
the forested ravine behind the house. The light was just coming on strong,
giving the room a silvery light that would turn gold in just a little while.
Bailey stood in front of the broad bay window, and for a moment, he
only took her in from the back; the erect way she stood, the elegant straight
line of her spine, the curve of her rear that was visible through the loose fit
of her light trousers. Besides the trousers, all she wore was a bra. Her red
hair had been swept back into a careless bun, nesting softly at the back of
her neck, scarlet strands falling out to brush against her ivory shoulders.
So very beautiful, Adnan thought. If only I could keep her.
There was a small voice in the back of his head wondering why he
couldn't do just that. She struck him as a graduate student, or perhaps one of
the girls traveling through the Mideast looking for adventure when they
were between jobs. Would it be so very impossible to bring her back to the
capital with him, to spoil her on the high life a little and extend their good
time just a little longer?
You have enough on your plate, he tried to tell himself, but the truth of
the matter was that all of it, the World Heritage Site business, the
preservation of Ikkar, felt very distant right now. There was a sting of guilt
for how easy it was to push aside, but her beauty made it so.
I can always ask, he decided. I can ask, and even if it doesn't work out
past the next few days, at least I'll have had a few more days with her.
Adnan started across the room, ready to make his proposal, and then
abruptly he realized that she was on the phone, nodding at whatever was
being said.
“I'm glad you called, Dad,” she said, her voice crisp and eager in a way
he hadn't heard it before. In the back of Adnan's mind, it struck him as
oddly efficient and professional, more like how she would speak to her boss
than the way she would speak with her own father.
“No, I'm certain. This is where you want to be. The place is amazing,
the food is incredible, and the local traditional music scene is – Yes. Yes, I
know that you're dealing with a sophisticated crowd. It won't matter, there's
just so much life here that – yes. Yes. I understand. I'll of course get you all
the data. Just… just trust me. I know what I'm doing.”
Adnan frowned because while Bailey might have known what she was
doing, he was unclear. Was her father a tour operator or someone who was
investigating Ikkar for tourism? Either way, he didn't seem like a
particularly warm or caring man, to send his own flesh and blood to out of
the way places to—
“Right Dad,” Bailey said with a sigh. “I know. Andress represents a
brand and a reputation and a way of life. I haven't forgotten that. I'm not
going to, all right? All right. Okay. Bye. Talk to you soon.”
She ended the call with a sigh that tugged at his heart, but then the name
clicked, and Adnan's eyes narrowed.
Bailey turned and jumped a little to see Adnan standing behind her. She
laughed, shaking her head a little as she pocketed her phone.
“I didn't see you standing there,” she said. “Figured you'd still be out.”
Adnan dismissed her words with a sharp gesture of his hand. Suddenly,
this tryst was becoming a great deal less than the simple night of pleasure
he had anticipated it being.
“Who are you?” he asked, and she gave him a strange look.
He realized that somewhere in the back of his mind, there was the
sneaking and unworthy thought that she had planned at least some of this,
that she had played on his sympathies and they had ended up in bed
together for less than savory purposes. Seeing her confusion was something
of a balm, because it was clear that while he was beginning to get a clue
about who she was, she had no idea who he was.
“I'm Bailey,” she said cautiously. “You knew that.”
He snorted.
“That's not the important part, is it?” he asked, his voice harsh. “It never
is.”
A stubborn look came over her, and she thrust her chin up in the air,
defiant as if she weren't only in her trousers and a bra.
“It's the most important part,” she said, and he shook his head.
“Not when your last name is Andress,” Adnan retorted. “Not when
you're the daughter of Roland Andress, and you are, aren't you?”
“I am,” she said, and she narrowed her eyes, looking him over as if
searching to see what had changed. She shook her head.
“What is it to you? My father is a real estate developer. My father is
looking to make investments—”
“Your father,” Adnan said through gritted teeth, “is looking to turn Ikkar
into a playground for the wealthy and foreign, and to plunder the natural
wealth and traditions of my country. That's what Andress Ventures does.
That's what it has always done.”
 “My father brings money to areas that need it,” Bailey said hotly, twin
patches of scarlet high on her cheeks. “We are not taking anything away
from anyone.”
“You and your father package up what is interesting and palatable to the
rich of the world and turn people into servants and entertainers in their own
homes—”
“It beats letting them try to mug travelers!” Bailey shot back, and
Adnan went still, staring at her.
“You have no idea what you're talking about,” Adnan said coldly. “You
come to a country with a little bit of education, thinking that of course you
know best over everyone here, thinking that of course you have the solution
to all of the problems that have arisen over the course of hundreds of years
—”
“And who are you that you have so much more insight?” she asked, her
voice suddenly softer. It could have come out as an accusation, but instead
there was something quieter about it, something not angry but considering.
She's not making an accusation, she's trying to understand, Adnan
thought, and for some reason, for some ridiculous reason that he didn't like
to think about, that softened him in turn. Last night, she hadn't been trying
to consume his culture or his world. She hadn't been trying to consume it or
to make it hers. Instead she had only been enjoying the parts of it that he
himself had offered to her. She had been trying to understand then, and she
was trying to understand now.
He was still watching her as she came a little closer, and it struck Adnan
all over again how very fearless she was. She was alone, she had been
attacked just a short while ago, she was in a place where she was a
foreigner in just about every way... but she still wanted to understand. She
still wanted to figure out what was going on.
The wiser course of action would be to simply escort her out, to return
her to town and to leave well enough alone. She had her plans, and he had
his. However, there was something in him that would simply not let him
leave without offering her at least what she had offered him, that was, a
modicum of the truth.
“I am Adnan ibn Malik Haddid,” he said, and had the grim satisfaction
of watching a look of slow astonishment cross her face, her extraordinary
blue eyes going wide.
 “Sheikh Adnan,” she said, giving him the correct title and using it
correctly with his given name rather than his family name.
Adnan nodded, sketching an ironic bow in his robe and boxers.
“One and the same,” he said. “And I think you might have an idea why I
have some problems with what you and your father are doing.”
“You're trying to get this entire location turned into a World Heritage
Site,” she said, and he was startled by the stern disapproval in her voice.
“You want to trap it in amber.”
“I want to preserve the history of my country so that it is a living thing,”
he corrected her, scowling. “I want it to exist in more than just dusty books
and static museum exhibits. I do not wish to see it paved over into another
resort of concrete and glass.”
“I think there are investors and government officials in your own
country that might agree with my aims and those of my father over your
preservation,” she said coolly, and Adnan had the strange feeling that they
might as well have been fully suited up for a boardroom battle rather than
half-dressed after a night of passion that he was absolutely not letting
himself think of.
“You've already been laying your groundwork,” he said, his voice low
enough to be a growl. “You've been sniffing around for investors and
interest in your little project.”
“I do my homework, Sheikh Adnan,” she said, striding past him. “And
though I would like your support, from what I have seen… I think there is a
chance that I will not need it.”
She was headed for the bedroom, giving him only a sideways glance as
she went.
“I'm going to call for a car,” she said, “and I'm going to get dressed.
Thank you so much for the rescue last night and the brilliant time
afterwards. I hope that our next meeting will be amenable, if less exciting.”
There was something in Adnan, something that lived deep inside him,
that could not let that go. One moment, he was prepared to let her leave and
to meet her through impatient conferences and phone calls, and the next,
something about the way her eyes turned to ice, about how very red her
mouth was, refused to allow that.
Adnan hooked his hand through the crook of her elbow, pulling her
back around and reeling her in for a kiss. They had kissed throughout the
night, her soft and warm and willing in his arms, and she was willing now,
but the warmth had turned to fire.
After a moment of initial surprise, her arms came up to cling to him,
and he reached down to bury one hand in her fiery hair. The kiss was
passionate but it was deep and wild and more than a little angry as well.
Adnan wanted to believe that it was something that came from his fury at
what she and her father was doing to his country, but there was a part of
him that, however unfairly, felt betrayed by what she was.
I have no reason to be angry except for the fact of who she is, he
thought even as the kiss wrapped him up into a vortex of need for her. I
shouldn't be angry because we cannot…
She was the one who broke the kiss first, and reluctantly, he let her go.
He could hear her breath, light and fast, and her lips glowed almost ruby
after their kiss.
“I'm going now,” she said with an impressive amount of dignity, and he
nodded.
She retreated into the bedroom, and Adnan walked to the study at the
back of the house. Apparently, he had his work cut out for him.
 CHAPTER 6

B ailey did not think about Adnan and the night she had spent with him.
She did not think about how his touch had set her on fire or how
the tenderness of his mouth caught her at strange points as she was simply
going through her day and living her life. She refused to think about how
sometimes, between being awake and falling asleep, she could feel a
ghostly mirage of his touch on her body, making her shiver with
remembered pleasure.
No, she did not think of him at all, and that was the lie she told herself
to get through the day.
The truth of the matter was that she was too busy to do much more than
think about him, and that was for the best. At the moment, she was putting
together the portfolio of images and facts for her father to share with
investors who wanted to pour money into Amil, engaging images and
stories that would lead them to see that this country was a place worth
investing in.
Ikkar was where she was aiming for, but she still had to sell the
investors and her father on the country as a whole; still had to make them
believe it would be welcoming to foreign tourists and foreign dollars.
“You have to see the whole picture, kiddo,” her father had said more
than once. “You can't get a multi-million dollar hydra like this one turned
around on a dime. You have to be willing to see where it's all going to go
and who might decide to crash it for you. Think about what the
government's like, think about who might get behind you. Research the
people in charge and make sure that they're in.”
 “That … might be a problem,” Bailey said with a slight flinch, and over
the phone, her father snorted.
“Come on. You know how to play this game, right? I've been doing it
since you were playing with dolls. Grease the wheels a little. Talk to them,
get them interested. Let them know that there's money in it for them.”
The problem was that while Bailey knew how the game was played, it
seemed like a game that Adnan had no interest in playing at all. He wasn't
the only power in Amil, not by a long shot, but it felt that no matter how
many local investors she got curious and fascinated by the idea of a resort
in Ikkar, Adnan himself stayed aloof.
“There has got to be something he wants, something that will sway
him,” she muttered to herself late one afternoon in the capital. Koli-an was
small but dense, all glass and steel high-rises that boasted some of the best
tech and richest companies in the world. As far as Bailey was concerned, it
could stand up to larger metropolises like Tokyo or San Francisco, but after
a few days wining and dining an Amil investment firm, she found that she
already missed Ikkar's quiet charm and beautiful beach.
In bed at her small hotel, she spent hours going over news stories about
Adnan, learning about his playboy days, and how they had ended when his
parents died in a plane crash when he was twenty. She flinched at how
quickly he had had to take control, and she found herself smiling at how
well he had done it. He was universally popular, universally loved, and
despite it all, he still managed to keep a low profile to mostly do as he
pleased when he was at home.
It was hard to believe that she had seen the handsome man in the sleek
magazines in the town of Ikkar, even more difficult to believe that he had
come to her rescue on a fiery mare when she had needed him.
“You need to stop this,” she muttered to herself, shutting off her tablet.
“You've got work tonight.”
With her company black credit card at her disposal, she was meeting
with some of the younger investment visionaries at one of the most
exclusive restaurants in the city. At some point, one of her father's
professional liaisons would take over, but right now, with everything up in
the air, it was anyone's game. Bailey told herself that she was just keeping
things simple, but there was a part of her that very much liked the idea of
going back to her father and telling him how she gotten the Babr group in
her pocket.
 In the city, Amil was very modern and very western. There were almost
as many women in finance as men, and Bailey dressed the way she had seen
them dress; in a sharp black suit, high heels and a white shirt to offer a crisp
contrast to the black. She pulled her hair back into a tight sleek knot and the
only jewelry she wore was a pair of glittering diamond studs.
She arrived at the restaurant, an opulent place with sleek glass and steel
décor, and went to the reserved table. She was early, but not too early, and
she sat down to wait.
At five past seven, she was just beginning to wonder if something had
gone wrong when the waiter led a tall man in a pale cream suit to the table.
She rose, holding out her hand and putting a bright smile on her face.
“Mr. Babr, I—”
She stopped, because her mind finally caught up with her trained
manners, and she stared as Adnan grinned at her, taking her hand.
Instead of shaking it, however, he lifted it to his lips, brushing his lips
over her knuckles. There was nothing wrong with the gesture, nothing
salacious so much as continental, but it sent a shiver through her body that
reminded her that, no, she had actually spent a lot of time thinking about
him over the three weeks since they had been together in Ikkar.
“I'm not Mehmet Babr,” he said with a slight and mocking smile. “I
hope I will do instead for a dinner companion.”
The pleasure she had felt immediately upon seeing him crashed into a
smoldering anger, and Bailey pulled her hand back with an abruptness that
stopped just short of being rude. For a moment, she considered simply
storming out, but more than just being rude to a man who was literally the
leader of a nation, it would have felt like a defeat. Instead, she sat back
down as Adnan took the seat beside her and gave him a direct and pointed
look.
“I certainly do not mind your presence, Sheikh Adnan,” she said with
frosty politeness, “but I do wonder what happened to Mr. Babr.”
“Mr. Babr has decided that he will be moving forward more cautiously
with his real estate ventures,” said Adnan. “It turns out, unfortunately for
you, Ms Andress, that there are other contracts that are more pressing for
him to keep.”
“Rather than taking on a foreign investment that might displease you,”
she said with distrust, and Adnan smiled.
“I see you recognize the way of it.”
 She leaned back in disgust, shaking her head.
“You bullied him away from the contract,” she said, “and then rather
than let him tell me himself, you came to gloat, is that it?”
“Well, I certainly wouldn't mind doing a little gloating, but no. I met
with Mehmet Babr a few hours ago. When I made my preferences were on
the matter clear, he wasn't going to show up at all. The man is eager to
please, which has its advantages, but it does not always make for the most
polite of interactions. He told me he was only going to ignore you moving
forward, and I thought, well, since you are going to be free for the
evening…”
Bailey choked back a laugh.
“Free for the evening? Is that what you call it after you sabotaged my
business meeting?”
“I sabotaged nothing,” he said, suddenly serious. “I am merely seizing
an opportunity.”
“For what?”
“For the squid ink pasta with a side of goat bread they serve here. It's
delicious. You should order some.”
Bailey's lips twitched as she fought a laugh. Dammit, there was no
reason she should find this funny, but it was.
“By all means, order some,” she said dryly. “Andress Ventures is
footing the tab, and my accountants aren't going to blink when they notice
that I was having dinner with the Sheikh of Amil.”
“I'm not here as the Sheikh tonight,” he told her.
“Oh? It's that easy for you to just turn it off?”
“When I am with you, it seems incredibly easy,” he said, and she didn't
have time to figure out what that meant before he continued.
“I am here as … let us say, a concerned citizen. I want what's best for
my country, and that means preserving its traditions and its history.”
“Even if it makes the people and the places involved fall apart from a
lack of money and repair?” she asked challengingly, and Adnan waved
around at the restaurant and beyond it, the city around them.
“Does this look like a place that lacks money?” he asked pointedly, and
she shook her head.
“Koli-an is not Ikkar. Ikkar needs money rather badly, and since that
money is not coming from the capital, I don't think the people who live
there are going to mind it coming from elsewhere.”
 Adnan looked surprised at her sharp words, and for a moment, she
wondered if he would abruptly stand and walk out. She had a fast mouth,
and it had set off more than one man who couldn't stand to hear the truth.
However, Adnan only smiled, and there was no malice or spite in it.
“You have an answer for everything, don't you, Bailey?”
Bailey shivered a little when she heard her name on his lips. It reminded
her of how he had whispered it late at night as they made love a second and
third time, and from the hungry way he was eyeing her, she thought there
was a chance he was thinking about it as well.
“I have a lot of answers because I get asked a lot of questions,” she said.
“But you called me Bailey. Who am I talking to right now, the Sheikh or the
man I met on the beach? As a matter of fact, who are you speaking to, the
foreign investor's daughter who is making your life hard or the girl you took
home?”
Adnan was silent for a moment, and the waiter chose that moment to
make his appearance. Adnan paused, and then he pointed at her.
“This woman does not pay for food here,” he said. “Tell your manager
that. If you see her here, her money is no good, do you understand?”
The waiter, who had obviously recognized Adnan nodded even as
Bailey uttered a sound of protest.
“You can't do that!”
“Of course I can,” Adnan said calmly. “I own this place. Now, let's
see...”
Bailey sat in stunned silence as Adnan ordered, and then he turned to
her with a slight teasing smile.
“I wouldn't presume to order for you,” he said, and she found herself
laughing at his words, even as she shook her head.
“Your standards are strange and baffling,” she said, and she ordered her
own food.
A silence fell over them when the waiter left. Adnan made no effort to
hide the fact that he was watching her closely, his eyes flickering over her, a
nearly predatory watchfulness in his gaze. Another woman might have been
uncomfortable under his direct regard, but Bailey only tilted her head
slightly, watching him right back.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, and a slight smile curled over his
lips.
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
 “Yes.”
She expected him to say something about the night they had spent
together. She might have been disappointed at his crudity, but she couldn't
even say that he would be alone in it. She had spent more time thinking
about it than she cared to, and she wondered if it would clear something
between them, let them start off on a better footing.
“I was only thinking that we could have gone on much longer without
revealing ourselves.”
Whatever Bailey had been expecting, it wasn't that, and she considered
his words for a moment.
“We are the people that we are,” she said finally. “I don't think either of
us are so very good at hiding that.”
“We were hiding who we were before that morning.”
Bailey bit her lip. There was something dangerous about all of it; the
words they were saying, the tantalizing premise that he had effortlessly
summoned up between them. She could see nothing but honest curiosity in
his eyes. He wanted to know what she thought, and she knew what the truth
was. It occurred to her to lie, or at least to obscure the truth, but she found
that she didn't want to. Couldn't.
“For me at least, it felt as if I were more myself,” she said, her voice
hushed, and something bright and hot sparked in Adnan's eyes before he
pulled it back to something more civilized.
“Yes,” he said. “It was the same for me. And I was thinking how very
rare that was, likely for both of us. And how even though we only had it for
such a short time, I’ve missed it.”
“You are very eloquent,” she said, because she couldn't say what she
really thought, which was that that was how she felt as well.
Their food came, elegant and plated so beautifully that it was almost a
shame to eat it. Bailey had wondered if they would spend the entire dinner
sparring, giving inches to gain territory, trying to learn more about the other,
but something about their confessions had loosened them both, made them
both step back and forward at once.
Instead they spoke about the food, they spoke about the unseasonably
beautiful weather, a dance troupe that had come to Koli-an, where Bailey
had gone to school and what Adnan thought about football in the United
States.
 It wasn't until dinner was over and Adnan handed her out of the booth
that she realized how everything had gone.
“This feels like a date,” she blurted out on the sidewalk in front of the
restaurant, and Adnan glanced at her, an almost boyish look on his face.
“It does.”
“Is that what you intended?”
“You ascribe to me far greater planning ability than I have. No. I only
came to tell you that Babr would not be joining you.”
“So … sitting down to eat with me, speaking with me...”
For perhaps the first time, Adnan hesitated. It gave her pause because
she had the idea that he was not a man who hesitated very often.
“I missed you,” he said finally. “That … may have influenced me more
than I wished it to.”
Impulsively, Bailey reached out to take his hand. His hand was warm,
and she could feel the callouses on the palm that she remembered so clearly
from their night together. Far from a politician's smooth hands, his were
rough from time spent in the saddle.
“I missed you as well.”
She leaned up to give him a kiss. It was meant to be an innocent thing,
light and soft, little more than a peck on the cheek, but Adnan turned his
head at the last moment and her lips met his instead.
If Bailey had had any doubts about the chemistry that existed between
her and Adnan, they were banished by the rush of fire and passion that
swept through her. It was so much, almost too much, and she was helpless
to keep herself from pressing against his body as his hand landed at the
small of her back, gathering her close to him.
With a single motion, he pulled her into the small alcove of the door of
a closed flower shop, his broad back shielding her from the street as his
mouth slanted over hers. In another moment, his tongue had pressed
between her lips, claiming her with a boldness that made her whimper as
she clung to him.
This was what she had been missing, what she had needed. She had
dreamed of him without remembering, she had needed him in odd moments
of the day. She had had sex before, she thought she had experienced
passion, but nothing had ever compared to this.
He was so warm against her, and when his hand slid inside her dark
jacket, she could all too clearly feel the heat of his palm straight through her
thin blouse, making her whimper against his lips.
“You did miss me,” he murmured. “You looked so cold, so aloof at first.
I wondered if it could possibly be the same woman who gave me that night,
who branded herself into my skin until I would never dare forget her...”
There was a moment, just a single bright and brilliant moment, where
she wondered what it would be like to allow herself to tumble straight into
his arms. Maybe they could be who they had been before everything got in
the way. Maybe that would be fine.
Then sense reasserted itself, and she pushed back, her back flat against
the glass of the door, shaking her head.
“No,” she said. “No. We can't.”
“We can,” he said, but he sighed, pulling back.
They were no longer touching, and the space between them felt more
like a thousand miles than the ten inches it really was.
“You should pull back from Ikkar,” he said levelly, and her head spun at
how calm he sounded.
“I should?” she asked, her tone like steel.
“Yes. I am looking into having it classified as a World Heritage Site, a
living piece of Amil culture and history. Once I have that ruling, there will
be no resorts, nothing that will destroy its importance.”
“And I suppose you came to this decision all on your own. Because,
Adnan, I have spoken with the people in Ikkar, and more of them than you
might think would kill for the opportunities that Andress Ventures could
bring. For some of them, it's the only hope.”
Adnan drew himself up to his full height. God, but he was a large man.
She refused to be intimidated, standing her ground.
“You are a foreigner,” he said, his voice chilly. “You know nothing
about the hope of the people of Amil.”
“I know because I have asked,” she retorted.
“Great Heaven that you could say such a thing to me,” he said,
something almost like marvel in his voice. “You are a menace. I should
have you escorted out of the country, I should have you put on a plane
straight back to Chicago.”
It should have insulted her, perhaps even frightened her. She knew that
as the Sheikh, it was well within in his power to do so. If he did, it would
end her plans and her father's, and the people in Ikkar might end up with
nothing at all but their history.
 Instead of being afraid, however, Bailey only smiled.
“You are not going to do that.”
Adnan eyed her with something between distrust and frustration.
“You are very sure of yourself,” he said, and she nodded.
“I am. And you won't.”
She knew that she wasn't going to get better exit line than that, so she
turned and walked down the street to the line of waiting cabs. The entire
way, she could feel his eyes on her, his gaze heavy and piercing, bringing a
flush to her cheeks and the warmth she had wanted since that fateful day in
Ikkar.
 CHAPTER 7

T he sky over Ikkar was slate gray, and the water almost an identical
shade. Adnan knew that it was only the vagary of the weather, but he
couldn't help but think that it boded ill for the day's activities. He was
dressed in a western style suit, which he typically enjoyed, but the
oppressive feel of a threatening storm draped a humid blanket over the
town.
The assessment group of historians and cultural investigators had
arrived the night before, and unfortunately business in the capital had
prevented him from meeting them. From what the hotel where he had had
them installed had said, they had checked in without a problem, and this
morning, they had set off to perform their separate investigations into the
history of Ikkar and its importance.
“You understand,” a rather stuffy British woman had told him weeks
ago, “this is not a simple yes or no. This is something that takes time and
thought, consideration. Of course it requires a great deal of study.”
“Of course,” Adnan had echoed, and from the slightly disgruntled look
on her face, he realized that he had sounded more than a little mocking.
Please, he wanted to say. Speak to the local historians. Speak to the
universities. They will tell you about how Ikkar's beauty was such that it
caused our nomadic ancestors to quit their travels. They will tell you how
long the history of this place is, and how important.
Instead, he arrived in Ikkar twenty-four hours late, and now felt as if
everyone was playing least in sight. There was something peculiarly empty
about the town at the moment, and as the afternoon drifted towards evening,
he ended up at his favorite restaurant. Before he went in, his phone chirped,
and he frowned, glancing down at the message from the British woman who
was nominally the head of the investigation.
Can you give us further directions towards the musicians we are meant
to be interviewing? You mentioned oud and daf players as well as craftsmen
of the same.
Adnan snorted, because the entertainers were never difficult to find. He
would bring them to her tomorrow if he had to drag the two groups
together. Then they would see.
Then he opened the door to a bright shiver of lively music, and blinked
as a young man he didn't recognize came up to meet him.
“I'm sorry, sir, but this is a private event.”
Adnan stared at the young man, and somehow when he spoke, his voice
was level.
“I think you do not know who I am, and I think you very much want to
let me in.”
The young man scowled, and then the owner of the place hurried over.
“Sheikh Adnan, forget my cousin's son, he is new—”
“What is this about a private event? Since when do you do private
events?”
The owner of the restaurant grinned widely.
“It is new,” he said. “Miss Andress—”
“Ah,” Adnan said. “That's who is behind this. She's here?”
“She is, shall I tell her you want to speak with her?”
“No need,” Adnan said, taking shameless advantage of his rank and the
fact that his family had been patronizing this restaurant for something like
four generations. “I'll just go find her.”
It took a moment to find Bailey because her hair was covered. She was
dressed formally in a black caftan and trousers with a hint of gold trim at
the hems, and she was just rising from a table full of foreigners when he
found her.
Their eyes locked across the room, and Adnan gave her a meaningful
look. He wasn't above simply grabbing her and hauling her away for a
word, and she sighed, turning back to the group to make her excuses.
The men, Adnan noticed dourly, were well-fed and overly-satisfied;
Americans or perhaps Englishmen at a guess. They waved Bailey away as if
she were only a girl who had come to check on their drinks, talking among
themselves in loud and jovial tones.
 Adnan's irritation turned to a simmering rage when he saw how one of
the men obviously turned to watch Bailey walk away. Adnan knew there
was precious little to see when a woman was fully outfitted in a traditional
flowing caftan and trouser set, but you wouldn't know from the way the
man was staring after her. One of the men sitting next to him scowled,
muttering something that at least made him look a little abashed, and that
was the reason – the only reason – Adnan did not simply walk over to teach
them a sorely needed lesson.
Bailey followed Adnan into one of the sheltered alcoves set back in the
restaurant, a place shielded from the rest of the space by a fluttering light
curtain.
"Well, Sheikh Adnan. I had not expected to find you here this evening,"
she said brightly.
"Who are those men?" Adnan demanded, and she tilted her head, giving
him a look of studied innocence.
"Friends of my father, men who are looking to make an investment,"
she said as if it should have been obvious. "Though I'm surprised you didn't
recognize the man in the light gray suit."
"No, I was too occupied with the one who was watching you as if you
were something good to eat," he bit out.
If he expected Bailey to be embarrassed or shocked by his words,
however, he was disappointed. She only made a face, shaking her head, a
weary look coming over her. For some reason, that was worse than the rest;
how tired and unsurprised she looked by it all.
"Oh that would be Marshall Landing," she said. "He's been like that this
entire trip. I think he's having trouble at home, and that's really the only
reason he came on this trip in the first place. I shouldn't have been
surprised. From everything I have been told about him, this isn't his kind of
scene or his kind of deal..."
Adnan made a noise that was close enough to a growl that she blinked,
looking at him in surprise.
"Adnan?"
"That is your problem with what he was doing?" Adnan demanded.
"You are only angry that he is not going to make the deal that you want him
to make, regardless of how he hangs off you like a dog in heat?"
The look Bailey gave him was stormy, and if he hadn't already been
angry, he would have been stricken at how unsurprised she was.
 "Do you think I like it?" she said, keeping her voice deadly and dull.
"Do you think I like knowing what he's thinking every time he watches me
too closely? Do you think I like how none of the others are willing to call
him out on it? This is how the game is played from my end of things,
Adnan, this is just how it is."
"You don't have to play at all," Adnan pointed out frostily, and a grim
smile quirked her lips. Something about the beauty of her lips, skimmed
with just a slight shimmer of pink gloss tugged at his heart, and suddenly it
was a little less easy to think straight. Adnan shook off the sudden need to
change things, to do something else with her in this alcove that had nothing
to do with the men outside at all.
"I fought too damn hard for my father's trust to bow out just because
some of his friends are awful."
"Then perhaps you should go a little further and simply convince
Landing like he so obviously wants to be convinced," Adnan snapped.
There was a split second where Adnan realized what he said, and a
surge of shame and horror flooded through him. He had spoken in the heat
of the moment, fighting against what might have been the least wise
attraction of his life but it was absolutely no excuse at all.
They were both frozen, but Bailey was the one who loosened first,
taking a tiny step back from Adnan that felt as if it were miles wide.
"So that's what you think, Sheikh Adnan," she said, her voice soft and
stiff and hurt. "Thank you for making your understanding of what I am and
what I do so painfully clear."
"Hit me," Adnan said. "Slap me, or if you know how, punch me. I
deserve it for that."
The look she gave him was withering, somehow worse than being hit or
slapped.
"Please," she said. "Do you think I'm so stupid as to actually lay hands
on the Sheikh of Amil? I'm not giving you such an easy reason to throw me
out of the country or to slap me with the threat of a fine or jail time."
"Bailey—"
"You've made your point of view on me disgustingly clear," she said,
turning towards the curtain. "With that in mind, I'm going to return to the
investors who at least keep their thoughts about my sex life to themselves."
She reached for the curtain just as there was a loud pounding of feet
right beyond it, followed by the first tremulous notes of the oud played very
close by.
As Bailey's hand fell from the curtain, Adnan realized that the
performers he had been hoping the investigators would see were getting
ready to perform for Bailey's investors, and that they would be performing
right beyond the curtain. If either of them left now, they would have to cut
straight through the musical performance. Bailey's hand dropped to her
side.
"Well," she said softly. "This is certainly a thing."
Adnan felt a brief stab of relief that she could not flee him just yet, and
he took her hand in his. There was a moment where she was stiff against
him, and he was certain that she was going to pull away, but then she
relaxed, lifting her chin defiantly.
"What? You've made your views very plain, Sheikh Adnan."
"I'm afraid I haven't," he said, keeping his own voice low and calm.
"Oh?"
"I spoke rashly and without regard. I insulted you, and I couldn't in any
way have expected you to respond well to it. I was heedless, and I
apologize. Bailey, I did not mean that, and I'm sorry."
He watched, tense, as Bailey went utterly still, the drumbeats and bright
music from beyond the curtain a strange counterpoint to what they were
speaking of in the relative privacy of the alcove.
She would, Adnan thought with an inward wince, be entirely within her
rights to wait out the musical performance and simply storm out. He hardly
deserved better after what he had implied.
Instead, Bailey took a deep breath, and then another, her eyes fluttering
shut for a moment before she met his gaze with a piercing regard. In that
moment, it was as if she could see to the very core of him, that she could
take in everything that made him what he was and that she could weigh it
against the person he should be.
"And you didn't mean it? That's not what you really think?"
"No. Never."
She examined him for another moment, looking for the truth of his
statement in his face, and then she nodded, looking down.
"It's no more than what others have outright said," Bailey said wearily.
"But no, I don't think you mean it. Just never say it again."
Adnan nodded, and then frowned.
"Who has said it outright? Was it Landing?"
 She shook her head, making a face, and it was as if something between
them had relaxed a little.
"Maybe made a few suggestions, but no. He's at least not that kind of
jerk."
"Good. I would not like to end the night beating a man half to death
before having him banned from my country."
Adnan spoke without thinking about it, and then winced at how insane
that made him sound. Instead of taking offense at his words, however,
Bailey laughed softly.
"You wouldn't have to do that. And ... Adnan, you're still holding my
hand."
Adnan looked down to realize that he was, and there was no instinct in
his body that told him to stop. Now that he was aware of their contact, he
could feel how soft her skin was and the pleasant tingle of electricity that
traveled between them as if their joined hands were a current.
"You're not telling me to let you go."
"Why would I ever tell you that?" Bailey said, and then her eyes
widened. In that moment, he knew on some deep and instinctual level that
she had said more than she had intended to, but there was no scramble to
take it back, no disavowal. Her hand squeezed his, and in that moment, he
would have sworn that he had never seen anything as captivating as her
eyes.
Never taking his gaze from hers, Adnan lifted her hand to his mouth. He
had once kissed her gently in the civil fashion as he had been taught,
nothing lingering, nothing more than a gentle brush of his lips against her
skin.
Now though, all of that civility was gone as Adnan turned her hand over
in his, baring her palm. He dipped his head down, nuzzling the cup of her
hand, and from the way she shivered and stifled a soft cry, he could tell that
she could feel the fire racing between them too.
Encouraged, Adnan ran just the tip of his tongue along her life line and
her heart line, kissing the base of her fingers and planting a gentle tender
kiss on each fingertip. By the time he was done, she was trembling like a
leaf, and he looked at her.
"Does that feel good, little darling?" he asked, his voice husky. "Do you
like the way that feels?"
 She uttered a soft, shaky laugh, and something in him thrilled at how
open she sounded just then; how wondering.
"Can't you tell?"
"Tell me."
"You feel like touching a live wire."
"But hopefully in a good way?"
"Very."
She turned her hand, and now she ran just the very tips of her fingers
over his mouth. He had always known that his lips were sensitive, but they
had never felt more so than when she was tracing them with such care and
enthralled curiosity.
Adnan stood it for as long as he could, and then he pulled her hand
away, dragging her against his body for what he had been craving since he
had laid eyes on her that evening.
Since before then, whispered an insidious little voice in his mind that
insisted on being honest. Since the moment you saw her.
Then they were kissing, Adnan leaned against the brick wall at the back
of the alcove, Bailey's body pulled hard up against his. Suddenly he was
surrounded by the scent of her light amber perfume, by the thin silk of her
caftan, by the sheer sweetness and softness of her body. It was as if he was
a man who had been surviving in the desert on nothing but mouthfuls of
morning dew, and now he had come to a brook of fresh clean water. He
couldn't resist leaning in, taking her mouth with a need that might have
shocked him if she hadn't seemed just as hungry.
"Oh Adnan," she murmured, and his name was like music on her lips.
"Oh, Adnan, I have missed you."
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that there was no need for her
to do so, that she only had to say the word, and she could leave her life
behind and stay with him for always, but then the passion of their kiss took
it all away.
 CHAPTER 8

W hen she was kissing Adnan, there was absolutely nothing else in the
world. There was only the hard heat of his body, larger than hers,
thick with muscle and powerful, pressed against her; there was only the
imperious demand of his mouth and the way something about him seemed
to pull her in farther and deeper.
When she was kissing Adnan, Bailey could forget everything about the
world, from her job to her problems. There was nothing she cared about but
how good she could make him feel and how good he made her feel. She
could leave everything else behind.
Right now, in the curtained alcove at the back of one the best restaurants
she had ever eaten at, the only thing that mattered was how good Adnan's
mouth felt on hers and how his large hand curled first around her hip and
then moved up under her caftan to sit higher, his thumb tracing maddening
circles on her bare waist just above the line of her trousers.
She could feel the reality of his arousal against her body, and in her
own, she could feel a rising response as well; something close to madness,
something that made her want nothing more than to give herself to him
utterly.
Bailey gasped softly when his mouth slanted aggressively over hers, his
tongue pressing between her lips and taking what he wanted, leaving
nothing but pure pleasure in its wake.
It wasn't until Adnan pushed her caftan up, baring her belly and her
breasts to his touch that she gasped, and he went still.
"Stop?" he asked softly. "Do you want me to stop?"
 "N-no," she said, and she pressed her forehead against his shoulder as
he stroked her bare skin with a care that took her breath away.
It should have been ridiculous, hiding in the back of a restaurant and
making out as if they were teenagers, but instead, the illicit thrill felt much
more adult, more like it was something they should have been doing this
entire time. Why did they bother fighting or sniping at each other when they
could have been doing this? This was what they were meant for, this was
what they had needed this entire time.
Adnan was tracing maddening patterns all over her skin, and through
the thin fabric of her bra. He passed his thumb over her nipples until they
stood erect, aching for more just like she ached for more.
"Beautiful, beautiful girl," he whispered against her mouth. "I want to
take you away. I want to take off these clothes and lay you down on a bed
of silk, and I want to see how you glow against it. I want to see you grow
flushed with pleasure and I won't satisfy you until you tell me over and over
again how much you want me, how much you need me..."
She groaned at his words because she could imagine them just as he
said them, and there was a moment, one wild moment, where she teetered
on the edge. She might have given over everything she was, everything she
could accomplish, just to have him make good on that offer of pleasure.
Then there was a shout of laughter from beyond the curtain, and for one
terrible, heart-stopping moment, Bailey was certain they had been found
out. Her stomach dropped somewhere to the vicinity of her knees and her
heart tried to jump into her throat as she thrust herself back from Adnan.
To her relief, there was no one peering through the curtain at them, and
she turned a puzzled looked to Adnan, who was frowning thoughtfully.
"I think I know that voice," he murmured, and as the music started up
again, they both carefully peered beyond the curtain.
Bailey had learned that traditionally, musical performances in Ikkar of
the kind that she had arranged for the investors usually started with just the
instruments and then moved on to a dance. She had assumed that given the
fact the investors were middle-aged men from the United States, they would
leave it at the instrumentals, but she was wrong.
The entire table full of investors were on the floor trying out the dance
steps and being encouraged by the restaurant owner's family, but after a
moment, she realized that the crowd was far too large to only be her
investors and the staff.
 "Wait, who are..."
"Well," Adnan said blankly. "I didn't expect that."
"Do you know who all those other people are? They're not with us, and
this was meant to be a private event."
Adnan shook his head, a slight smile on his face. Despite what had
passed between them, her heart still skipped a beat at how very handsome
he was, how despite having so recently kissed him, she wanted to do
nothing else right now. She had to pull herself back from doing so.
"Explain."
"Those are the investigators I brought to Ikkar to see about turning it
into a heritage site," he said. "They came looking for the musicians, and I
guess they found them."
"They would have found them more easily if you had paid them like I
did," Bailey said with some asperity, and Adnan gave her a crooked smile.
"Don't be too angry at the restaurant owner," he said. "You might have
rented the space and paid for the musicians, but this kind of party really is
meant to be something that you come for when you hear the music."
A glance back into the room told Bailey that Adnan was right. There
were more people coming into the restaurant now, the doors thrown open to
the night. More people had appeared with drums and ouds, and there were
children and elderly people joining in the dancing as well.
Despite everything that had come before, she found that the greatest
desire in her heart at that moment was to simply take Adnan's hand and pull
him into the fray. She remembered too well how it had felt to dance with
him, their bodies swirling together and apart again, how they had moved to
the same music and how easy it had been to…
To simply be with him.
That was all she wanted, and if she was being honest with herself, it was
all she had wanted since he had saved her the night they had met.
Adnan, for his part, was only looking into the crowd with a chagrined
expression on his face, shaking his head.
“Honestly, we're never going to pull them apart now,” he said wryly,
and Bailey used his calm tone to reorient herself and to keep herself
grounded. They had had shared something that was hard to describe behind
the curtain, something that she still craved, but for the moment could not
afford to pay any attention to.
 “Well, Sheikh Adnan,” she said, “do we call this a victory for me or for
you?”
She had intended the question lightly, but there was something dark in
his eyes as turned to her.
“I think I want to forbid you from calling me Sheikh Adnan.”
The request seemed oddly serious, and Bailey couldn't help taking a
closer look at him.
“And what should I call you instead?”
“Just Adnan. My title sits poorly in your mouth.”
Before she could stop herself, Bailey's hand flew up to her mouth, and
that was a mistake, because now she could tell they were both thinking
about what her mouth had been doing recently.
To her surprise, Adnan rubbed his hand over his eyes, shaking his head.
“I'm sorry. But please. Do not call me Sheikh Adnan again.”
“What if we're in public or at a ceremony of some sort?” she asked, a
slight smile on her face. “What if I'm being presented to you in public?”
“Then you should follow your best instincts. You obviously have good
ones in most circumstances.”
“All right,” she said. “Adnan.”
He smiled as if the sun had come out, and something in the back of her
head told her that if they hadn't been surrounded by people, he might have
reached over to kiss her. More distressingly, she would have let him.
“So we're going to call this a draw, huh?” she asked, and he sighed,
spreading his hands out.
“For the moment. Though I should let you know, this is a fight that I
intend to win.”
Bailey lifted her chin at his declaration. There was a teasing note in his
voice, but she had read up on Adnan and his views, and of course she was
growing to know the man himself. He might have had a smile on his face,
but she could tell that he was deadly serious.
“I don't know if you know much about Andress Ventures, Adnan, but
we're not used to losing either.”
There was a charged moment between them.
Adnan was the first to break the silence, and his words startled her.
“Where are you staying tonight? Not at the hostel, I hope?”
“No. There's a charming place right down the road, the Favashi
residence. They took us in.”
 There were no real hotels this far from the city, and she certainly
couldn't board people used to five-star accommodations at the hostel. The
Favashis were a local family with an enormous house that had enough
bedrooms for the investors she had brought along. The Favashis had been
incredibly welcoming, providing them with meals and guides and some of
the whole-hearted hospitality that Bailey had been hoping the investors
would see.
Adnan considered for a moment.
“I know the Favashis,” he said at last, “and I saw how many people
were in your little congregation. Where in the world are you sleeping?”
“With the kids,” she sighed. “Jamila has a trundle bed, and she's kind
enough to let me sleep on it if I tell her stories to get her to sleep.”
“Very fair,” Adnan said, and then he hesitated. “Bailey?”
“Yes?”
“If you wish, you could stay at my place for a few nights.”
She gave him a quick look that made him scowl reflexively.
“Nothing like that. Not unless you wanted it. But if you … if you need a
place to stay. If you would like to…”
For a moment, there was nothing Bailey wanted more. What a pleasure
it would have been to go home with Adnan, to leave the noise behind and to
simply be with him. She could imagine what it would be like, slipping
through the darkness to the comfort of his bedroom, of his enormous bed, of
his body warm and lithe against hers…
And then would come all the confusion and conflicting agendas in the
morning.
Somehow, she forced herself to smile, shaking her head and taking a
step back for good measure. There was just a second where something that
looked alarmingly like hurt flickered over Adnan's face, and then he wiped
it away to stand impassive again.
“I don't think that would be a good idea,” she said. “I probably ought to
get back even if my investors aren't planning to come along any time soon.
Maybe if I start the stories early tonight, I'll get to sleep at a decent time.”
Adnan nodded, his expression cool.
“Of course.”
She thought he might say something else, something about how they
could try again another time or that perhaps when this was all over things
would be different, but he did nothing of the sort. Instead, he turned and
made his way into the thickening crowd, and before she had quite registered
what was going on, she had lost sight of him. There was something about it
that made her stomach lurch, and briefly, Bailey was afraid that she was
actually going to be ill. The walls of the restaurant were far too close, the
noise was unbearable, and she was swaying on her feet as if she might
topple at any moment.
Don't you dare faint, she told herself. If you fall, no one in the world is
going to pick you up, so don't you dare!
Another moment, and she got her feet under her, and a moment after
that, she was out in the clear night, taking deep, deep gulps of the clean air.
She felt better the moment she was a little cooler, and as she gained her
composure, Bailey wondered what in the world that was all about.
I've always been as healthy and sturdy as an ox… I really have let him
get under my skin.
Bailey took a few more minutes to make sure she wasn't going to fall
over, and then she started the walk back to the Favashis' household. She
needed rest, she needed sleep, and she needed to spend some time not
thinking about Adnan Haddid at all.
 CHAPTER 9

F ive days after he had seen the investigators off from Ikkar, Adnan
received a letter. It thanked him for the welcome they had received;
they had learned a great deal from everything they had encountered, and he
was to be congratulated on the beauty of his country and the kindness of his
people.
He skimmed the polite pleasantries of the letter, and finally three-
fourths of the way through, he found what he had been looking for.
As to the social and classical importance of Ikkar, further investigation
needs to be undertaken. The process can be a slow one, and we request your
patience in this matter. If we have any need of more information, we will
contact you.
It was couched in very polite, even respectful language, but Adnan
knew very well that that meant don't call us, we'll call you.
He leaned back in his desk chair, spinning around to face the broad bay
windows that let him look out over the capital of Koli-an. His country was
rich, full of the best and brightest minds in the world. Why was it so hard to
protect this one small place, to keep it from turning into an adult theme park
for rich foreigners who only wanted another stamp on their passports?
Abruptly, his office in the tallest tower in the city felt more like a prison
than anything else, and he rose, descending the glass elevator and walking
out into the street. In times past, whenever he had felt unsettled or restless,
the streets of his beloved city would calm him. Today, however, the noise
and the chatter of a dozen foreign languages only served to frustrate him,
and he walked faster.
 The staticky haze that had clouded his mind pulled back, and he found
himself confronting what was underneath, or rather, more appropriately,
who had been underneath the entire time.
The entire matter of Ikkar had gotten tangled up with Bailey in his head,
and things would have been so much simpler if she wasn't involved. Then
they could simply have stayed who they were when they’d first met, stayed
as wild and as innocent as they had felt, possibly stayed in bed the entire
time...
Adnan paused at a street crossing and he blinked, because surely he
hadn't gone so far head over heels that he had started seeing her out of the
corner of his eye. Surely he was not so gone that he would imagine a flash
of red hair where there was none, but then he looked closer and realized that
it was her, and she was likely in the process of getting swindled.
Swiftly, he crossed the street and came up just in time to see her hefting
a blue silk parasol from one of the street vendors.
“It's very beautiful,” the man was saying encouragingly. “It makes you
look like a princess.”
“Well, I don't know about a princess,” Bailey said with a smile, and
Adnan fought down the bolt of pure and irrational jealousy that she would
smile for anyone who wasn't him. “How much did you say it was again?”
“Ah, well, usually it would be three hundred riyal, but since you are my
last customer of the day, since you are so beautiful with it, and because you
have been so very kind to me, what do you say to two-sixty?”
“I think you ought to let her have it for a hundred,” Adnan drawled,
coming up to stand next to Bailey. “And I think you ought to be ashamed of
yourself for trying to swindle such an innocent young woman.”
Bailey's head snapped around, and Adnan's heart pounded in his chest
for the moment of pure and undiluted pleasure that sparked in her blue eyes
when she saw it was him.
“Adnan?”
He winked at her, not caring if the street vendor saw, and the man cried
out, clapping his hands in mock offense.
“Ah, you are too cruel, sir,” he said. “I am honest, and I sell only fine
wares here. I have told the lady only the truth...”
Adnan and the vendor bickered back and forth as Bailey tried to stop
them and then simply rocked back on her heels to watch them haggle, a
slightly bemused look on her face.
 In the end, at a price above what Adnan had originally proposed and
well below what the vendor had asked for, the man handed Adnan the blue
silk parasol and Adnan in turn, handed it to Bailey. She took it with a slight
smile.
She opened it and tilted it back on her shoulder, and Adnan privately
had to agree with the vendor. She really was beautiful with that shade of
blue that was such a close match for her eyes. They fell into step naturally,
walking away from the vendor who was waving them on cheerfully.
“You didn't have to do that,” Bailey said, her tone gently chiding. “I
could have afforded to pay what he was asking.”
Adnan snorted. They had come to one of the small almost private plazas
in the older part of the city. They were little pockets of the past preserved
willy-nilly through the modern areas. There was a fountain at the center of
the plaza, but it had been obviously dry for years, the figure of the jumping
fish at the center crumbling. It was startlingly quiet there, a refuge from the
noise, and Adnan turned to Bailey with a slight smile on his face.
“And here I thought you were doing all kinds of research on what went
on in Amil and about our ways and traditions. He's a street vendor.
Everything he sells is going to be priced high on the understanding that you
will be bargaining with him.”
“I don't see anyone doing that in the department stores.”
“Well no. Why would we do it in a department store where the prices
are set and the people doing the selling do not have any influence on it?
That man, though, does the buying himself and the selling as well. He
knows to the riyal what he can afford to let it go for. Believe me when I say
we have not cheated him out of anything.”
Bailey nodded slowly, and under the blue edge of the parasol, he saw
her taking in this information and adding it to her store of knowledge about
his country. He wondered if he should have been worried about revealing
any part of it to her, but then she turned to him with a brilliant smile that
could have stopped a charging bull in its tracks.
“Well, thank you. And thank you for the parasol as well. I went from
being willing to pay more than two hundred riyals for it to paying … well,
nothing at all, I guess.”
“I hope you don't expect it to keep off the rain,” said Adnan, who
realized that he was far more pleased at her thanks than he should have
been. “That kind is meant for the sun.”
 “Oh believe me, I know,” she said, making a face. “I just realized today
that I was out of my favorite kind of sunscreen, and I don't know if I can
easily find it here. I've seen a lot of the local girls using these parasols so I
thought I would try one.”
“I hope you haven't gotten burned at all,” Adnan said, looking her over,
and Bailey laughed.
“No, I lucked out. After a few really, really nasty burns I got as a kid, I
learned better. But if you look close, I bet you'll see that I've already got
some freckles just from running around the city for a few hours.”
“Freckles? I don't believe you.”
“No, really. Look.”
She turned to him, tilting the parasol back so he could lean in. True to
her word, there was a smattering of freckles over her nose, faint but
noticeable, and suddenly he found that he was wondering where else she
might have them, if they had been on her skin while they were making love
and he had simply missed them.
“Adnan,” she said softly, and he blinked.
Adnan started to draw back, apologizing for getting so close, but then
he saw that the look on her face was not one of accusation. Instead, her blue
eyes were wide, and they were fixed on his lip. Abruptly, he realized that
she was thinking of kissing him just as fiercely as he was thinking about
kissing her.
“We are being foolish,” Adnan said, straightening, and after a moment
that seemed to last far too long, Bailey nodded, biting her lip.
“We should probably stay away from each other,” she said, her eyes
fixed on the ground between them. “You're … you're bad for business.”
Adnan ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up in all directions.
“And you think you are so good for my peace of mind?” he retorted,
and she offered him a smile that was somehow somewhere between shy and
smug.
“This can't be good for either of us. We should … we both have our
own goals.”
“You could quit working for Roland Andress,” he offered. “That would
take the conflict away immediately.
“And do what?” she snorted. “I could get a job doing the exact same
thing for someone else, maybe, or perhaps you think I should go and wait
tables.”
 “You could stay in Amil. Stay with me. We could have a good time. We
always seem to have a good time, whenever we're together, no matter what
the circumstances are.”
She started to say something, and then she cut herself off, looking at
him with a dawning comprehension.
“You— you're not joking, are you?” she asked, her eyes wide. “You
really are offering—”
“I'm offering a good time,” Adnan said bluntly. “I'm offering to take
better care of you than you have ever had in your life, I'm asking for you to
enjoy me and my country, and I am asking to be allowed to enjoy you as
well. It is not such a terrible offer, is it?”
There was something fragile and tremulous on her lips, and Adnan's
self-control, never very good around Bailey, cracked.
He took her by the hand and pulled her to him, and he claimed her
mouth with the raw possession that seemed a part of who he was when he
was with her. When he kissed her, none of the rest mattered; not who she
was, not what she wanted to do or who her father was. The only thing that
mattered was how good she felt in his arms, and how very much he wanted
more, always more…
Adnan could feel the moment when she leaned into him, where another
slight push, simply another moment might have helped him win his way.
Instead, her slender hands came up flat against his chest, and then she
pushed him away, her blue eyes stormy even as her mouth was still red
from their kiss.
“Unbelievable,” she hissed, and the rage in her eyes was so stunning
that Adnan was momentarily rendered speechless.
“Bailey!”
“No! No, we're not doing this. Christ.”
She shook her head, and for a moment, she only trembled, pressing one
hand to her eyes. When Adnan reached for her, she pulled back so violently
that he thought she might fall.
“Please,” he said. “I'm not going to touch you if you don't want—”
“Damn straight you're not, not if you think that I'm some kind of … of
whore.”
Adnan felt as if he had been slapped. He stared at her, scowling and
feeling the first heat of a fury rising up in him.
“I never called you such a thing, what are you—”
 “Oh?” she asked heatedly. “What else do you call it when a man tells a
woman to quit her job, to run away with him, he'll take care of everything,
and in return, all she needs to do is let him enjoy her?”
“Any enjoyment that I was proposing was going to be mutual,” he
growled. “I wasn't proposing to pay you for your services, damn it. I wanted
—”
“I know very well what you wanted,” she flared, and then to his
surprise, she went still.
Bailey was not a woman who was still very often, Adnan thought
somewhere in the back of his mind. She always had to be doing and moving
and finding out. Right now, she was as still as a pillar or a post, and it was
strange on her.
“Bailey—”
“You do, don't you?” she asked, and her voice was soft and full of
regret.
“What are you talking about?”
“You can see right through me. I want it as much as you do.”
Something seized hold of Adnan's heart in a way that he didn't want to
think about. He wanted her, he might have wanted her more than he had
ever wanted any woman, but the fact that she wanted him just as much was
something else. It struck a chord deep inside him that made him want to go
down on one knee to her, to give her whatever she wanted, but she was
shaking her head and backing away.
“God, I'm sorry,” she said helplessly. “I must be sending you all kinds
of – Adnan. Yes. I want you. I want what you're offering me so very much.
It sounds so good, and … and ...”
Adnan stared at her, wanting nothing more than to go to her and
knowing at the same time that he couldn't.
“Why not just let it be good?” Adnan asked softly, and Bailey shook her
head.
“Because as much as I want you, there are things I want more,” she
said, and he felt as if someone had punched him square in the chest.
“To be your father's perfect employee.”
Something flickered across her magnificent blue eyes. He wondered if
he had landed a hit, but she brushed it off.
“To prove myself to myself,” she said firmly. “And Adnan, I won't do
that while I'm just enjoying you.”
 She walked past him, not looking up at him, no matter how much he
urged her to do so. Then she was past him.
Then she was gone.
 CHAPTER 10

I t was supposed to be a fling. It was never meant to get this complicated,

Bailey thought, staring up at the ceiling of her small apartment.
Her father had told her that it would be better to stay at one of the five
star hotels in Koli-an, that it would put her closer to the investors and be
more convenient besides. She had stood fast on her decision to rent a tiny
apartment in one of the more old-fashioned districts in the city, however.
“It's more like a home,” she had said lightly before changing the
subject, and it was true.
She was getting too used to the white walls and the plain gauze curtains.
She was getting too used to the small corner store down the road where she
could get the flatbread, olives and soft white cheese that was almost all she
wanted to eat at the moment.
She was keeping up with the investors, both the ones that were
tentatively interested and the ones that required more convincing, but
otherwise, all she wanted was to be in her apartment, ideally in bed. She
was getting so tired so easily at the moment, and disgusted with her own
weariness. She rose and forced herself to make some tea.
I'm not too worried about going out partying right this moment, Bailey
thought bitterly. Look at what a mess I made out of it the last time I tried to
keep it casual.
She couldn't keep Adnan out of her thoughts. Somehow, she was
keeping it together for work, but at the end of the day, her thoughts kept
circling him. She wanted him, she ached for him, and she couldn't get him
out of her mind.
 God, it's just as well I have a week before the next set of prospective
investors arrive. I need to get my head on straight.
As she sipped her tea at her tiny kitchen table, however, she realized she
had no idea how in the world she was going to do that. All she wanted to do
was sleep and think and maybe cry a little more, but then her phone rang.
“Dad? What time is it in—”
“What the hell are you doing out there?” her father barked, and she sat
up straight as if someone had shoved a galvanized steel pole down her
spine.
“What are you talking about? I just saw the Sinclair group out last week
and—”
“Why do I have a request from the highest authorities in Amil that they
need an Andress Ventures representative to speak to immediately? That
they need a liaison if there are going to be any deals at all over Ikkar?”
Bailey blinked.
“That's news to me. No one's said anything like that.”
“Apparently, you pissed off someone at the top, and now they want
accountability,” her father said, his voice terse. “Fix it. We've already blown
through a lot of man hours for this deal, and I'll be pissed if we end up
wasting them.”
My hours, Bailey thought, but didn't say.
“All right. I'll take care of it.”
She thought that her father would hang up on her then – it was the kind
of thing he would do – but instead he hesitated, taking a breath and then
another.
“Is this too much for you?” he asked in a completely different tone. “I'm
not asking as your boss right now. I'm asking as your dad.”
“Sounds like something my boss would want to know,” Bailey said
wryly, and then she shook her head against the tears that were stinging her
eyes.
“No, Dad, it's not too much for me. It's a challenge, right? We knew it
was going to be one, though. This is new territory for Andress Ventures.
There's going to be a learning curve.”
“I'm not talking about the company, kiddo. I'm talking about you. You
sound like you're getting run into the ground over there. Look, I have
Harlan just coming off the campaign in Montreal. I could have him come
out, work his magic…”
 “Absolutely not,” Bailey said with a scowl. “Believe me, Dad, I'm going
to get this handled. Trust me. Do not send Harlan. I can do this.”
Her father sighed, and she imagined him pacing his office, one hand
shoved deep in his pocket, quick eyes flickering from thing to thing in the
ornate room.
“All right. I believe you. I trust you.”
Her father hung up, and angrily, Bailey brushed away the tears that were
welling in her eyes. She wasn't upset about this new development. She
wasn't. She was tough, she was going to get through this, and she was
absolutely going to handle Adnan, because that was who she knew was
behind this.

Four days later, Bailey was dressed in a sharp black suit with her hair
brushed to gleaming and pulled back into an intricate knot at the base of her
neck. She had considered purchasing a formal caftan, but had decided there
was no hiding who and what she was. Better to let Adnan see it
immediately than to think she was in any way catering to his tastes.
Really? asked that irritating little voice at the back of her head. Are we
sure we're not catering to his taste even a little?
The suit was as sharp as a knife, but this time, unlike the first night he
had confronted her in Koli-an, she wore a skirt. The skirt was
unquestionably businesslike and professional, but it was tailored to fit her
like a glove. That, combined with the high heels she usually skipped made
her walk the halls of Adnan's office building with an aggressive tilt to her
shoulders, her eyes front and ignoring everyone who looked at her curiously
as she passed.
The glass elevator took her to the top floor with a whoosh, and for just a
moment, Bailey allowed herself to be impressed. What was it even like to
be Adnan, who owned this building and four others like it? What was it like
to have so much?
She had expected to see a cold and imposing reception area when the
elevator let her out, but to her surprise the doors opened to a pristine sunken
living room. The entire place was decked out in gleaming white, and there
was a dizzying moment where she was convinced there was a hole in the
side of the room because the enormous glass windows looked out over the
whole city.
Almost against her will, she went to the window, looking out over the
city below and then the desert beyond. Her stomach lurched a little to be so
high up, but when she looked up into the blue sky, she wondered if this was
what the world looked like to birds, so high up and so unattached to
anything below.
“Do you like heights?” came a very familiar voice, and she had to count
to five before allowing herself to turn around and face him.
“I don't mind them,” she said.
While she had come dressed for a boardroom battle, Adnan looked as if
he had come from one. The dark blue suit he wore was rumpled, his tie
half-undone, the jacket unbuttoned. As Bailey watched, he stripped the
jacket off his shoulders and threw it carelessly over the back of the couch,
pausing only when Bailey lifted her hand.
“I'm here for business,” she said, her voice harsh even in her own ears.
“If you take it any further than that, I'm leaving.”
She had thought that Adnan would accede to her wishes, but instead he
only gave her a long and level look.
“Do you really think there is any chance in the world that we can keep
things businesslike between us?”
She lifted her chin proudly.
“I have to. I am not losing this opportunity, and if you think you are
going to take it from me—”
He held up his hand, and now it was her turn to fall silent.
“I want to hear what you have to say,” he said bluntly, and she looked at
him suspiciously.
“It feels like there's a catch,” she said.
Adnan shrugged.
“It's a request. You are welcome to deny it, to leave if you want.”
“And then what? You're going to kick me out of the country?”
She wondered if she saw a brief flash of helpless pain and fury across
his eyes, and then it was gone, replaced with a glossy, cool, and
professional demeanor.
“I could. But I want to hear what you have to say. It’s reasonable for a
man to want to know what foreign investors might be doing in his country.”
“And you'll listen?”
 He spread his hands out.
“That's what I brought you here for.”
She nodded towards the small table with chairs for two at the window.
“Over there.”
She wasn't quite sure she trusted herself to simply sit on a couch with
Adnan as if they were friends or more. At the very least, she didn't trust the
way her body was already quietly longing for his after the long absence or
the way her heart seemed to reach for him.
Instead, they sat at a table far above Koli-an, and she outlined for him
what Andress Ventures wanted to do in Ikkar. She was smooth as she had
learned to be, and clear, and somewhat to her surprise, Adnan concentrated
on what she was telling him. A few times, she caught his eyes lingering on
her, but then it was gone again, so quickly that she might have imagined it.
Since she was looking at him as well, she decided that fair was fair and
ignored it in favor of explaining to him what her vision was for Ikkar, what
she wanted to see there and what she had learned in her time there.
“This is very good,” Adnan said finally, paging through her detailed
analysis. “You spent more time with the people of Ikkar than I thought.”
“It's their town,” she said, and he gave her a sharp look.
“Given what I know about Andress Ventures, there was a chance that by
the end of this, it would be your town.”
Bailey thought that she should be insulted, but she knew how so many
of her father's competitors acted, and how he had run more than one deal in
the past.
“No one is looking to take over,” she said. “I saw this project as being
one of enhancement, where the money coming in would serve the
community and allow it to make the improvements that it wishes to make.”
“And you asked. You did interviews with the people who live there.”
“I did. I'm not going to tell them what they want.”
“You wouldn't be the first to try,” he said, and she nodded.
“Well, now you see what I'm trying to do. It's not completely
incompatible with your plans for a heritage site, but these plans do work at
cross-purposes in some ways.”
He looked startled, and for the first time, Bailey felt a touch of temper.
“You know about that plan?” he asked.
“Of course I do,” she said icily. “You know that I don't have this job just
because of my father, right? I earned it, and I learned it when other girls
were planning their proms. I know what I'm doing, and there is no way that
I'm leaving any stone unturned, especially not when my opponent is the
head of a country.”
“Is that what we are? Opponents?”
“What else could we be?”
“That's the question, isn't it.”
Bailey looked at Adnan warily.
“I'm not sleeping with you to make you—”
He winced.
“Don't finish that, please. What I must have done to give you such a
dark view of me. No. I was only saying that perhaps in this matter, we could
be collaborators instead.”
“Partners?”
“No. What Andress Ventures does, I have no interest in it. But our plans
might be working at cross-purposes, but perhaps together we can come up
with something that will suit. Something that brings the people of Ikkar
some of the benefits they deserve while not selling them off to the highest
bidder.”
“And what do you get out of this?”
Adnan stood up from the table, his face dark.
“I get to serve and protect my people. Ikkar is one of the most beautiful
places in my country, and also one of the poorest. I want to help it however
I can while still preserving the thing that makes it so unique. If you think I
have some ulterior motive—”
Bailey acted without thinking. She stood as well, reaching forward to
place the pads of her fingers over Adnan's lips, shushing him.
“I'm sorry,” she said quietly. “I have thought the worst of you, and you
do not deserve it.”
For just a moment, Adnan seemed stunned by her touch, and then he
shook her off.
“I am glad you can believe that of me at least. But yes. Work with me.
Let's say … three weeks to see if we can come to some kind of
compromise. We work together, only with one another. We do not stop until
we say it is hopeless or until we find a workable solution.”
"And if we can't?" Bailey asked challengingly. "What if we put in three
valuable weeks of work, three weeks I point out, Adnan, that neither of us
can afford to lose, and we find there's no accord we can come to at all? Will
you walk away and leave the deal to me?"
Adnan gave her a wry look, and she shrugged, smiling a little.
"I had to ask," she said, and he nodded.
"It's only three weeks," Adnan said. "In the grand scheme of things,
even as fast as I'm led to understand real estate moves, that is not so much."
It was. Bailey knew that empires could be made and broken in a week,
let alone three. She knew that this deal could end up being something that
her father would never agree to, and given how volatile her relationship
with Adnan was, she might find herself in far worst straits than she would
on her own.
She bit her lip, and Adnan reached for her hand, taking it gently in his.
"You know this is the best way to get what we want," he said quietly. "I
suspect – I hope – that we want very similar things. We want the best for
the people of Ikkar."
"Of course we do," she said, "but I work for my father. I’m meant to be
furthering the best interests of Andress Ventures."
"And who is to say you will not be when you are working with me? I
am not granting this access to anyone who asks. I am granting it to you.
Could that not be seen as something you should value?"
Bailey had a dozen other arguments for why this might be a terrible
idea, but then the truth presented itself and it was the only one that would
do.
"I'm afraid of what this might do to me," she said, her voice small. "I –
all cards on the table, Adnan – what I feel for you is like nothing I have
ever felt for anyone before. It's big. It's intense. I've already let it influence
me far beyond what it should and ... that's scary for me."
She thought he might hurry to soothe her. She thought there was a
chance he would laugh at her. Instead, he only gave her a smile that was
almost sad, and there was something so familiar in the way he did it that she
ached.
"Do you think you're alone in that?" he asked.
"Adnan?"
"I told you that I would not make this deal for just anyone," he said,
looking down for the first time. "It turns out that there are many things that
I would not do for anyone but you."
 Bailey wasn't sure how it happened. One moment she was balancing on
the precipice, still half convinced that she would need to take a step back
into relative safety and pull away from the dazzling edge. The next
moment, she was throwing herself forward, both literally and figuratively as
she threw herself into Adnan's arms.
It was what she had been wanting, what she had absolutely been
craving, and after a startled pause, Adnan dragged her even closer for a
deep and almost wondering kiss. The emotions that flowed through her
were so intense that tears welled up in her eyes, and she had to pull back
slightly to wipe them away.
"Bailey? Bailey, are you all right?"
"Fine, fine," she said. "I just ... I'm just glad that we're doing this. That
we're giving it a chance."
That we're giving us a chance, she didn't say, and as delicious as
Adnan's arms were, she stood firmly apart, straightening herself out.
"All right. We're working together for three weeks. Where do you
propose we start?"
Adnan grinned, boyish and so full of joy that it was almost hard to look
at.
"Where it all began, of course."
 CHAPTER 11

I kkar, Adnan decided three days later, was good for Bailey.
She had looked sharp as a razor in Koli-an. She was gorgeous doing
what she had been trained for and what she loved, but there was always
something wary and wild about her there, something that looked as if it had
been shaved down to its very core.
After just a day in Ikkar, she had put away her suits for the soft and
flowing caftans that the women of the region wore. She had begun wearing
them as a gesture of respect, but Adnan had immediately brought a tailor to
the house in Ikkar, much to her surprise.
"I have clothes," she said after greeting the old woman with confusion.
"You've seen them."
The old woman let loose a torrent of fast Arabic, and Adnan grinned.
"She said that you have clothes that should only be worn by antiques
and women with no fashion sense," he translated. "She'll dress you
correctly."
"I couldn't—"
"You wanted to know more about the cultural resources of Ikkar,"
Adnan pointed out. "This is the best way to learn."
Bailey conceded his point, and from the table where he had set up his
work, Adnan watched as she spent an afternoon having her measurements
taken and then talking about colors and textures with the tailor. The
conversation mostly involved the old woman giving Bailey swatches of
fabric to touch and holding them up to her face speculatively, but it seemed
as if they had gotten a lot done.
 Then the next morning, the clothes started appearing, courtesy of the
woman's grand-nephew who delivered them via bicycle, and Bailey
whistled.
"All right, you're right again," she said. "This is a lot different."
"I'll manfully resist the urge to say I told you so," Adnan said smugly.
Bailey's new clothes were the same shape as her old ones; long robes
with full bell sleeves and wide trousers that fell down to her ankles, but this
time, they had been cut to her figure. The fabric was far lighter and filmier,
and rather than the dark colors she had chosen to blend in with a
conservative populace, her new clothes came in bright tones that brought
out the rosiness in her cheeks and made her blue eyes look like gems.
"All right," she said, in a sea green caftan that flowed around her like
water. "Now that I'm all dressed up, what in the world shall we do about it?"
"Well, I was thinking about a puppet show," Adnan said guilelessly, and
to his surprise, Bailey nodded.
"Cool. I'm in."
"No questions at all?"
"Nope. You didn't say anything that involved anyone getting hurt or
anything that I would find personally distasteful, so why wouldn't I be in?
You like to have as much fun as I do, so let's go."
Adnan laughed.
"I keep forgetting how much you want to see and explore. And no one's
going to get hurt, but you know, westerners might have some issues with
the puppet show in question."
Bailey raised her eyebrows.
"All right, now I have to see this."

That evening, seated in the shade of an open sided tent, Bailey leaned in
against Adnan's side.
"All right," she murmured. "I can see why someone with delicate
sensibilities might have issues with this puppet show."
"But not you?" he asked with a grin.
He didn't bother to lower his voice as no one else was. The large tent
shaded perhaps forty people on benches and the large sheet hung up at one
end, further illuminated by bright lights from behind, showed a collection of
shadow puppets that were gleefully chopping each other's heads and arms
off and sending them flying. The flickering of the lights and the rippling of
the sheet in the slight wind made the images look almost disquietingly real,
and the people responded to it, cheering on their favorite characters and
booing the villains.
"No, I love this," she said. "I think I'm following the story. The girl with
the crown is the general, right? And her lover betrayed her when he ran off
to join her enemies with her horse?"
"Right. It makes more sense if you know that the horse represents her
cavalry. That's why she's fighting on foot."
"Oh! Right, that makes sense. And ... and now she's pregnant, is it with
the baby of the man who left her?"
"No, see that swirly puppet thing at the top? It's a wind spirit that came
to console her while she was grieving her love. Tomorrow, they're doing the
part of the story that features her son, who's half human, half spirit."
"Oh we have to come back for that," Bailey said, her eyes glued to the
screen, and Adnan felt a strange soft pang in his heart for how much she
cared about this strange and obscure part of his culture.
The puppet show ended with a meal that Adnan had paid to have
brought to the audience and the performers alike, and they sat long into the
night, plates of food in their laps as Adnan explained the puppet theater of
Ikkar to her. From time to time, some old performer came by to thank him
for his patronage, and he watched as Bailey's gaze grew more thoughtful
and curious.
"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked on the way back, and Bailey
smiled a little. At some point her hand had ended up in his, and she
squeezed it gently as they continued to walk in the light of the moon.
"Oughtn't it be a riyal?" she asked, granting him a soft smile. "I guess I
was just thinking that this was how it was in the old days, wasn't it?
Performers made their money off of the local people, but also the rich men
who came and did things like this, paid them well, fed them."
"Patronage, yes. It had its benefits, certainly, but it is an uncertain way
to live. What I think we're both looking to do in Ikkar is foster a little more
certainty, a little more security so the art that we saw will not disappear, but
instead will thrive."
 "I think you did pretty well for them tonight, if that counts for
anything," Bailey said with a small laugh. "But you're right. They deserve
more and better."
"They also deserve patrons who won't simply see how beautiful a
woman in the troupe is and carry her off."
Bailey blinked and Adnan laughed.
"It's a family legend, I'm afraid. One of my ancestors came to a puppet
show just like this one in Ikkar hundreds of years ago, but instead of
watching the puppets, he was instead overcome with love for the head
puppeteer's daughter."
"Love," Bailey echoed. "Is that what they called it?"
"He carried her away and made her the Sheikha of Amil for all their
very long lives together," Adnan said. "We could call it love."
"On one hand, I think if you scratch the surface of that story, it's
terrible."
"But on the other hand..."
She paused in the courtyard of his house. The moon had fully risen on
their walk, and the trees in the courtyard cast long dark shadows. What was
beautiful and familiar in sunlight turned dark and mysterious at night.
"On the other hand, can you imagine what it would be like to be seen
and desired and taken and given a kingdom?" she asked. "What must it be
like to be desired so much, to drive someone almost mad with wanting for
you?"
She looked up at Adnan, and there was absolutely no fear in her eyes at
all. Instead there was a question there and the glimmers of a hunger and a
strength that could match his own.
They had been circumspect with each other for the last few days. It felt
as if they were on new ground, things far too fragile and new to test with
what they both wanted. Something had changed in the moonlight, however,
and now there was nothing in him that wanted to be careful any longer.
"I should think you know all about being desired to the point of
madness," Adnan murmured, and he pushed her gently against the brick
wall.
 CHAPTER 12

T he moment Adnan's hands were on her, the moment his mouth slanted
down over hers, she was overwhelmed with a tide of rising need and
something almost ancient, almost primal, that pulsed at the core of her
being. This was who she wanted, this was who she needed, and all of her
doubts and concerns fell away.
Her arms went up to circle his neck and bring him in even closer, and
she tilted her head up, urging him to deepen the kiss and give her even
more.
"You taste so good," she murmured. "You taste so good, and I want you
so much."
"I think I have wanted you from the moment that I first laid eyes on
you," Adnan whispered, nuzzling the side of her neck and then nipping the
sensitive flesh. "I think you are exactly what I have wanted my entire life."
Something about the words sent a pulse of pleasure through her and she
whimpered as his mouth dropped to the base of her neck, to the single
jeweled button that closed the long slit that opened the garment straight
down to the center of her chest.
The deep slit, even buttoned at the top, had surprised her a little when
she had tried it on, but the delicate cotton camisole underneath made it
decent enough. She had seen plenty of other women her age wearing similar
garments when she had looked for them, and thought nothing more of it.
Now though, her caftan was gaping to either side, and the camisole
underneath, fitted so she didn't need to wear a bra, felt like nothing at all
under the onslaught of Adnan's mouth.
 Bailey couldn't resist the urge to thread her fingers through his dark hair
as he drove her slowly wild, his mouth heavy and warm and perfect against
her skin.
"I want all of you right now," he murmured. "Perfect woman. If I had
caught sight of you a thousand years ago, if all I knew was how you looked
and how you moved and how you looked at me..."
"Would you have taken me away, too?" she asked, her voice catching as
he knelt down to run his sharp teeth over her belly. "Would you keep me all
for yourself?"
A low laugh rumbled through his frame as his fingers snagged the
elastic of her waistband, tugging it just slightly away from her body.
"What makes you think I won't do that now?" he asked, and then she
cried out as he pulled her trousers down, kissing the skin that was so newly
revealed.
"Oh ... oh, Adnan," she murmured, digging her fingers into his hair and
pulling gently. "I want you, I want you so much..."
"You'll have me, but first you're going to give me exactly what I've been
dreaming about for weeks now."
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what that was, but then she
whimpered as he spread her legs, forcing her stand with them apart as her
back was braced against the wall. There was something oddly exposed
about the position, though her caftan was still on, still covering most of her.
But it's leaving some parts very strategically uncovered, she thought, a
blush of pleasure on her cheeks.
Adnan knelt in front of her, and then he was spreading her open with his
hands. His touch was as soft and tender as it had been when they had last
been together at this very house, as hot as it was in her dreams, and all she
could do was gasp as he leaned in to taste her.
His mouth was gentle at first, gauging her reaction and her need, but
then Bailey could feel the hunger surge through him as surely as it surged
through her.
There was something ravenous about the way he went after her
pleasure, his lips and tongue and even his teeth working to give her the
pleasure she so craved.
"Oh Adnan, I can't, I don't know if—"
"I think you can," he said, still pressed against her. "I think you're going
to."
 Her cry echoed through the tall walls of the courtyard as she gave into
the pleasure that was winding her so tightly. It raked at her with hot claws,
sweeping through her and leaving her nothing more than a pile of
sensations, nerve endings that had never quite known what they were for
before.
It was so good that she threw her head back against the brick, her eyes
shut tight and unable to do anything besides let the waves of sensation wash
over her.
Then...
Oh god, but he wasn't stopping.
His mouth had stilled on her flesh long enough to let her gather her
breath. If he hadn't, she likely would have had to shove him away or grown
too oversensitive. However, he hadn't pulled away, and now that she was
beginning to relax a little again, he nuzzled her gently as if seeing what she
could bear.
"Oh... oh please," she murmured, leaning back against the wall, and
slowly, with aching care, he resumed his motions.
He was, she thought dazedly, a little gentler this time, as if he had been
sated by the first torrent.
The pleasure this time came slower, as if her body had to decide what it
was capable of taking, what it was capable of in general, and she
whimpered as it slowly mounted, slowly started to pull her down.
"I don't know if I can," she confessed, and Adnan laughed, the
intoxicating tremors translated through her skin.
"Try," he suggested, and her eyes drifted shut.
She hadn't thought she could, but as he licked and kissed and opened
her, as he made encouraging noises that seemed to go to the very core of
what she wanted, she started to shake again, her body primed for pleasure
and somehow already ready for more.
The second time, she cried out softly, whimpering as she was
consumed. It felt as if she was falling with absolutely no fear of hitting the
bottom.
For a moment, Bailey thought that Adnan might stay where he was, but
he stood and was kissing her again. She could taste her own need on his
lips, and she wanted more of him, more of everything they could do
together.
 "I need you," she managed, and Adnan's smile was clear against her
lips.
"Who knew I had such an insatiable woman?" he asked, and Bailey
arched her bare hip against his body, riding up against his erection and
making him moan.
"I think you're the insatiable one,” she responded. "And I think maybe
you're tired of waiting."
It was as if there was a crack in Adnan and she had bounced on it,
snapping it under her weight. One moment, he was entirely at ease, and the
next he had spun her around so she was facing the brick, her palms braced
on the wall, his hands on her hips to drag them back a little.
Adnan pushed her caftan up to her shoulders, and suddenly that
combined with the trousers that were pooling around her ankles made her
gasp at how bare she felt.
"I think that if you want to sate me, you are going to have to work for a
very long time, my darling," Adnan purred, nuzzling the back of her neck.
"I've been so very hungry for you."
She wiggled with impatience as she heard the foil of a condom wrapper
crinkle, and a moment later, she gasped as the broad blunt tip of his cock
slid against her opening.
"Look at how wet you are for me," Adnan murmured through gritted
teeth. "Look at how much I want you."
She cried out when he entered her, fully, swiftly, in one thrust. She must
have sounded a little panicked because he paused.
"Bailey?"
"Don't stop," she gasped. "Never stop."
"I assume we will for water and food, but all right..."
She almost laughed at his joke, but then he was thrusting into her, his
movements slow and heavy. She could feel how long and thick his cock
was, how it filled her perfectly. It was as if they were made for each other,
his body pleasing hers in every way that she desired. She felt made for him,
and that sent another shiver of sweetness through her as well.
For a short time, she was quiet under his thrusts, bracing herself against
the wall to receive them, but then she began to push back, arching her back
and undulating her hips to encourage him to reach the same thunderous
climax that she had found.
 When he came, it was with a groan that sent a dull pulse of renewed
pleasure through her, and then he was pulling out of her carefully after
laying a gentle kiss on the small of her back.
“Was I too rough?” he asked, and she straightened up, shaking her head
against the slight dizziness that the change in position evoked in her.
“No. Never.”
There was something on the verge of blooming in her heart, and when it
did, she realized that there was nothing she could do to stop the words from
spilling past her lips.
I love him, she thought helplessly. I love the care he takes, I love the
way he wants to look after the people of Ikkar, I love his smile and the way
he touches me, I love him. I love all of him.
Adnan disposed of the condom before returning to take her hand, and
something about watching him do it struck a chord that rang through her.
They had always used a condom. Every time after the first, there had been a
condom involved. She had dismissed it because, well, there was too much
going on, but right now, she felt a chill go through her body.
“Shall we go inside?” he asked. “I mean, we could continue out here,
but…”
“Inside is good,” she said, and her own voice was tinny in her ears, her
smile surely too wide to be seen as real. “Only … do you mind if I crash out
a little early? I've not been sleeping well, and I think you just wore me out.”
Bailey was amused to see Adnan puff up a little at her words, but she
also caught the brief moment of disappointment at her decision even as he
nodded with understanding.
He led her back into the house, pausing for just a moment in front of the
door to her suite. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it with the most
gentle care imaginable. It sent a tingle through her body that made her
thoroughly regret spending the night in her own room, and then she said
goodnight and shut the door behind her because, God, she was not meant to
deal with that kind of temptation.
Safely behind the door, Bailey’s mind raced, and she thought back to the
previous weeks, how her appetite had been so incredibly unreliable, and
how very emotional she had been.
One time, she thought in fascination. One time, is that all it takes?
Could that night have changed everything for us forever?
 Tentatively, she set her hand on the curve of her belly. It was still flat;
there was nothing there to give her any confirmation one way or another.
There was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to go to Adnan, to
share her news, but what if it was nothing? Hell, what if it was something?
He was the Sheikh of Amil, and she... she was just herself.
She winced. She was the woman who was working with him at the
moment and had certainly worked against him in the past.
No. She needed more information. She couldn't proceed until she knew
at least a little more than she did now.
She forced herself to shower and to put on her pajamas, but lying her
bed, her hands clasped lightly over her stomach, she knew that that wasn't
where she wanted to be.
 CHAPTER 13

A dnan spent a restless night in his bed, tossing and turning. Every few
minutes, it seemed as if he was reaching for someone who wasn't
there, and then he would wake up suddenly startled by the cool sheets under
his hand.
There is nothing wrong with her wanting to sleep alone, he told himself.
There is nothing wrong with Bailey wanting space, wanting time to herself.
She is a grown woman, and she has fought hard for her independence.
Those were all very sensible things, very adult things to think, but the
truth was that at the bottom of it, it left a gnawing and empty place deep in
Adnan's gut. Finally, as the night wore on and peace showed no interest in
coming, he rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling, picking it apart.
It wasn't so much that she wanted to be alone, he decided. It was
something else. There was something in her face that disturbed him, or no,
it was more that she was disturbed and not telling him.
We started this relationship out keeping secrets. Should it be a surprise
that she's continuing to do so?
Despite everything, he was hurt by it, and the hurt churned inside him.
Things weren't right, and finally, close to dawn, he rose up to pad barefoot
and dressed only in a pair of loose linen trousers to the kitchen. If he
couldn't sleep, at least he could make some coffee.
The coffee was just brewing on the counter top when a soft noise made
him look up, and he was startled to see Bailey in the doorway. She looked
as surprised to see him, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.
“Couldn't sleep either?” Adnan said, and then he took a closer look at
her.
 She was lovely in the green caftan she wore, trimmed with bands of
silver embroidery. It was one of her new outfits, and she glowed in it, as if
she had been meant to wear that kind of outfit her entire life. The outfit
wasn't a problem, but it wasn't something she would put on just to lounge
around in the house.
“Heading out?” he asked, and she nodded stiffly.
“I won't be gone very long,” she said, and there was something so cool
in her voice that Adnan almost recoiled.
“And where won't you be very long?” he asked, a chill of his own
creeping in.
She straightened up as if he had mortally insulted her, and there was a
flush of high color on her cheeks.
“I don't have to answer that,” she said, her words dropping like stones
from her lips, and he stared at her.
“You don't,” he bit out. “But I had assumed that some measure of
civility—”
“I don't owe you anything right now!” she burst out, and the sudden
violence of her words stung like the lash of a whip.
“You are standing in my house, in my country, you have said that you
would like to come in and change it for your own profit, and now you won't
tell me what you are doing sneaking around mysteriously in the dawn?”
Adnan said, his voice rising, and she glared at him.
“I am leaving now,” she said. “Tell me right now if you are going to
stop me.”
Adnan started to snap something in return, but then he saw that she was
gripping her phone tight with one hand, that she was trembling a little as
she stood, braced for the worst. Her face was pale and her eyes were almost
feverishly bright.
Adnan's first instinct was to go to her, to try to comfort her and to tease
out what was going on. Perhaps he could fix whatever it was that had gone
wrong between them, because obviously something had.
She's terrified, he thought with a sickening lurch in his belly.
“Of course I'm not going to try to stop you,” he said quietly, and with a
surge of guilt, he saw the relief wash over her face.
Bailey bit her lip, and he got the idea that she was on the verge of tears.
Despite what had just passed between them, he took a step closer to her.
 “Bailey, come here. Whatever is happening, it seems like we need to
talk. I'm not sorry about what happened last night, but perhaps you are?
Come here. We can sort this out.”
She tensed again, looking like some graceful woodland animal ready to
leap away from danger. She skittered a few steps towards the door, shaking
her head.
“Later,” she said. “We can talk later, I just need to— Please. Please
leave me alone right now.”
It went against every instinct that he had, everything in him that needed
to be with her, to protect her and to comfort her. When the door shut behind
her, his heart sank and he buried his head in his hands.
What in the world is happening?
He wondered if he had allowed his heart to be captured by a woman
who was discovering that she did not want it. He wondered if she did want
it and something about it was breaking her. There was nothing he could do
about it or even figure out about it until she came back.
His father had always cautioned him towards patience. He was good at
it, both in conflicts on the international field and while he was gentling a
horse. Right now, though, Adnan thought that there was nothing in the
world that felt nearly as difficult.
He sat down at the kitchen table, because despite everything between
them, Bailey had never lied about anything. If she said she would be back,
she would be.
An hour passed, and then a second one was almost up.
Then the earth started to shake, and Adnan leaped to his feet.
Bailey…
 CHAPTER 14

T he clinic in Ikkar was small with only a single examination room

separated from the tiny waiting area by a thin wooden door. In the
waiting room, Bailey listened to an old woman earnestly discussing
something with the doctor, a tiny child getting her first shots and a slightly
older child getting his arm checked to see how it was healing after a break.
The little boy came out of the waiting room with a sticker on his shirt for
being good, and he waved to Bailey cheerfully as he and his father passed.
If I am, then maybe he'll look like—
She cut the thought off, because she couldn't think like that, not when
she didn't know yet.
Then twenty minutes later, when she came back out, however, she did
know. The doctor, an older woman with cropped gray hair and French-
accented English gave her the news with a calm and neutral face, and then
squeezed her hand.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “This looks like a shock for you. Is the
father—”
Bailey shook her head.
“No. I mean yes. Yes, this is a shock, but I'm fine. I'm fine, I just—”
I need Adnan, she thought wildly. I should have had him here. He
should be here, with me, getting this news with me.
“I'm sorry, I need to go,” Bailey said in a rush. “I am, that is, I'll be fine,
I'm safe, I just need to.”
The doctor looked as if she wanted to argue with her, but then the
ground started to rumble. For an instant, Bailey thought that it was only her
nerves that made it feel as if the world was shaking apart, and then she
realized that no, it was real, the earth really was moving.
From beyond the door, someone, likely the young pregnant woman who
had come in behind her, cried out, and the only phrase that Bailey could
make out was hazat 'ardia, over and over again.
The doctor repeated it, and then cried out earthquake, before grabbing
Bailey's arm and dragging her into the waiting room. It felt like the world
was coming apart, and the waiting room was a frenzy of people all
shouting, some running outside even as the doctor shouted at them.
Bailey froze, and then the doctor shoved her towards the young
pregnant woman with a small toddler clinging to her caftan and crying.
“Take her, get under the table in the corner!”
Grateful for any direction, Bailey reached out to take the young
woman's hand, dragging her and her toddler to the table. It looked like
precious little protection in the rolling tremors that shook the world under
their feet, but Bailey pushed her underneath it, squeezing in with her.
The young woman was crying, clutching her belly with one hand,
holding hard to her toddler with the other, and helpless in the face of what
felt like the world flying apart. Bailey grabbed on to the woman, holding
her just as tight as the power cut out with a loud bang.
“It's all right. It's all right,” she said over and over again. “It'll be all
right, I promise...”
Suddenly it was all over, and a hush came over the waiting room
darkness. A tentative burst of words came out, followed by a harsh babble,
and from her position on the floor, Bailey crept out to see people venturing
from their sheltering spots.
The movement of the earth had knocked the chairs around, sent
everything clattering to the floor, but besides the terrible mess, no one
looked injured.
Everything was calming down when the doctor grimly reported that
both the entrance and the exit had been blocked enough that there was no
way out for the moment, and then the wailing started up again. Bailey was
inclined to join in, but then the young woman who had been under the table
with her took her hand tentatively.
“I'm sorry, are you all right? I don't speak any—”
The woman tugged her down to one of the few upright chairs, and
understanding, Bailey sat down with her, holding her hand, letting the
toddler play with her phone, which of course had no service.
All they could do was wait.

It was another two hours before there was some shouting from outside,
followed by the roar of machinery. The doctor ordered everyone back from
the door and then there was a nearly deafening crashing sound as the
obstruction beyond was pushed out of the way.
Bailey took a tighter grip on the woman she had been sitting with, and
then there was a joyous shout as sunlight, fresh air and rescue workers
streamed into the tight space. One moment Bailey was smiling at the
woman she had been hanging on to, and the next, she was turned and spun
into an embrace that smelled like sun and sweat.
“Bailey!”
For a moment, she clung to Adnan, lost in the wonder of him being
there with her, and then reluctantly, he pulled back. She was startled to see
that he was wearing a jacket that designated him as rescue personnel, and
he offered her a wry grin.
“Come on. I'm taking you to the ambulances. They'll look you over, and
then I'll come looking for you. We still have a great deal of searching to
do.”
“Adnan, no, I can help...”
She had wondered even as the words left her mouth if she was starting a
fight, but his gaze was only firm.
“Then help me. I have an idea why you're here, and… Bailey. Please.”
She nodded, and she was about to turn and do as he said when he pulled
her back to him one more time, as if he couldn't stand to let her go.
“Thank you. I love you.”
Bailey stared at him. She felt as if the ground was shaking again, and
this time, she was the only one who felt it. She stared into his dark eyes,
saw the truth of what he had said, and then someone was calling for him,
and he was gone.
“No... no, Dad, I'm fine. Really. I'm fine. I'm … no, don't send anyone after
me. I don't need a private doctor, I don't – no, definitely do not come out
here on your own. I'm fine. I promise. They just needed to check me over
because … because, well, they're very cautious. I'm fine.”
She paused.
“I think we need to talk about that. Things here are … we just need to
talk, Dad. Okay. Okay. Yes, thank you. I'd love a call in the morning. Get
some rest.”
Bailey heard an unusual hesitation on the other end of the line, and then
her father's next words made her smile. She knew that they were never easy
for her father to say.
“Love you too, Dad. Talk to you later.”
Bailey sighed and leaned back in the hospital bed. She closed her eyes,
almost ready to fall back asleep, but then there was a shuffle at the door,
and she had never felt less like sleeping in her life.
“Adnan!”
Still in his rescue worker jacket, his hair ruffled and an enormous
bouquet of tiger lilies in his arms, he looked amazing to her, and she
reached for him without thinking about it.
“They said that there was a chance you would be asleep so…”
“Come in. Please. I … I need you here.”
He entered the room, shutting the door after him, and as he placed the
flowers in the empty vase by her bed, she got the idea that he wasn't looking
at her, almost as if he were afraid to.
“Adnan, what's wrong?”
“You told your father you needed to talk about things.”
“We do,” Bailey said. “Today, the earthquake, everything … Ikkar has
needs that we can't address with just a resort.” She laughed a little wryly.
“More or less what you've been telling me this whole time, I guess.”
“And Ikkar needs to be more than a museum showpiece, as you have
been saying. It sounds like we all have a great deal to talk about.”
She hesitated, and when she spoke, her voice was small.
“Are you … sorry about what you said this afternoon?”
His head snapped to her as if she had shocked him, and a moment later,
he took her hand in both of his, leaning close to her on the bed so she could
feel the warmth of his body pressed against hers.
 “No. Never. Never doubt it. I love you, and I will say it as long as you
need me to. I … I was so afraid today.”
“And … you found me today. And you know something about why I
went where I did.”
Adnan sighed, pulling up a chair so he could sit by her bed. She could
see the lines of exhaustion in his face, and without thinking, she stroked her
fingertips down his cheek, making him close his eyes briefly to lean against
her touch.
“I guessed. I thought about what you said, how you were acting. I
thought about how we were always so careful except once. I thought about
how there was only one clinic in Ikkar, and that was how I found you. And I
think that if you are going to tell me what I think you are going to tell me
…”
“Yes?”
“I want it. I want you. Nothing has been the same since you came into
my life.”
Bailey felt as if something had burst into bloom in her heart, as if the
whole world suddenly looked brighter. There was so much work to do, so
much that needed to be planned and fixed and repaired, but for a moment,
the whole world could wait for the joy that she felt right now.
“Oh … Adnan …”
“Say it, please.”
“Adnan, I love you. And … I'm pregnant.”
“Good,” he murmured, and then she was crushed to his chest again as
she hugged him back just as hard. It felt as if she was so full of love that she
could hardly stand it, and then she realized that where she and Adnan had
just been two people before, now they were going to be three.
She laughed with joy, and when Adnan tilted her head back for a deep
sweet kiss, she returned it with all the hope for their future in her lips.
EPILOGUE
 ONE YEAR LATER

T he video screen in the entertainment room was enormous, stretching

almost wall to wall, and Adnan and Bailey watched avidly as a
historian from Koli-an University gave the speech opening the new
historical center in Ikkar.
There was still a long way to go. The historical center was only opening
the first of four proposed stages. Eventually, it would be a place where
people could walk through the gardens and the beaches of Ikkar as it had
been in centuries past, a destination not only for tourists but for people who
wished to learn more about the region's history and culture.
“It looks so amazing,” Bailey murmured as they cut the ribbon on the
iron gates to the facility. “I can't believe this all got built over the last year.”
“I can,” said Adnan wryly. “I could barely get you and your father to
stop once you got started.”
“I seem to remember not being the only one pulling some all-nighters,”
Bailey retorted. “And after all, I took a break, remember?”
As if realizing he was being spoken about, Selim cooed in her arms,
rousing from his nap with a soft cry. Automatically, Bailey rocked him in
her arms as Adnan rolled his eyes.
“Having a baby is not taking a break. Here, shall I take him?”
“No, I think he's hungry...”
With a motion that had become as natural as breathing, Bailey undid her
top, and soon Selim was breastfeeding with small noises of contentment
and satisfaction. She relaxed against Adnan's body, smiling as Adnan
brushed a soft kiss over her forehead.
“I'm a little sorry we're not there,” she said, nodding at the screen.
 “The history of the world is important,” Adnan said, “but it is just as
important that we are here for its future.”
Bailey cuddled the future a little more snugly in her arms, and she tilted
her face up to take a soft kiss from Adnan, her heart full and the world safe
around her.
 CLICK HERE
to subscribe to my newsletter & get EXCLUSIVE updates on all offers,
secret previews, and new releases!