Desire In The Desert: Sheikh's Rule. Ryshia Kennie

Desire In The Desert: Sheikh's Rule - Ryshia  Kennie


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on the family...” He paused, collecting his thoughts.

      “Revenge?” Talib’s fist clenched and Zafir looked worried.

      “We don’t know, but fresh eyes... Adam might have something. The agent he’s assigned will be looking at it from a different angle, without any preconceived ideas.”

      “He might see something we’ll miss because of familiarity,” Talib said.

      “Exactly,” Emir agreed and Zafir nodded.

      “The other thing...the man he’s recommending is an amazing profiler. Exactly what we need and the first thing I mentioned when I called Adam. We want nothing less than the best.” He looked at his brothers, saw the pained expression on both their faces and, still, determination radiated from them. They wouldn’t be beaten. He felt hope just being surrounded by them and he knew he in turn gave them hope. That was the way it had always been.

      “Who is it?” Talib asked. “There’ve been a number of new hires in the Wyoming branch.”

      Emir shrugged. He’d get the name when he gave Adam the update after his brothers left. For now, names were irrelevant; he trusted Adam’s judgment. “He’s new, but Adam claims he’s good.”

      Silence seemed to steep like an uneasy brew through the room as every instinct urged them to surge forward, armed-dangerous, potentially lethal as they plowed over the threat. But they were hobbled by a threat that had intelligence they weren’t privy to; it knew exactly where they were and, worse, it held what they claimed most precious.

      “We have no idea where they’ve taken her,” Emir said. “Only that they want money and their demands, I suspect, will continue to go up.”

      Emir’s stomach clenched and he ached to see his sister’s kidnappers’ blood seeping into the depths of the endless desert sand. But he needed something more than revenge. He needed his baby sister safe. He looked at the ink staining the ancient rug and the cracked phone, both evidence that he had lost control.

      “Here’s what we will do...” He motioned his brothers to sit and he laid out what had and would be done in the hours that followed.

      “I don’t like it, but it makes sense,” Talib said ten minutes later.

      “Forty-eight hours, Emir. No more,” Zafir interrupted as he clapped his hand on Emir’s shoulder.

      “Or less if we’re needed,” Talib said.

      “Or if you lose contact,” Zafir said.

      “Agreed. But if there’s progress, that may change.” Emir had explained his conditions and knew it was a shaky agreement. With their sister’s life in jeopardy, he was surprised his brothers had agreed to that much. But they knew how delicate a situation like this was. No one had to be reminded of what they stood to lose.

      Tara, the only girl in the family, with none of the brothers in a steady relationship, was all that was soft and feminine in the family. Without her, Emir knew that the niceties in life would disappear as easily as that beautiful vase beneath Talib’s fist. She organized family celebrations and get-togethers, remembered family traditions. Only last month she’d gotten them all together on Skype for a toast to his and Zafir’s birthday. Without her... He wouldn’t think of it, couldn’t.

      Twenty minutes later, as his brothers exited the room, he picked up the phone. Fortunately its case was the only thing that had cracked in his initial rage. He punched the number of the Wyoming branch of their security agency. Adam picked up on the second ring.

      Emir laid out what had transpired since they’d last spoken.

      “Don’t do anything more until K.J. gets there. Promise me.” Adam’s voice held an edge of concern.

      Eight hours. It was a long time—it was forever. “I don’t know if I can do it,” he said.

      “I don’t know what more to say, Emir. K.J.’s already en route.”

      Emir sucked in a relieved breath at that.

      “As we agreed, I’m sending the best. And despite the fact that I’m not coming over—this agent is better than either me or, for that matter, Faisal. It took a bit of work at this end, had to rearrange a few cases, but you’re not going after these perps without the best at your side.”

      “I appreciate it,” Emir said, and the call ended seconds later. There was nothing more to say.

      For now, all he could do was wait. He began to pace.

      * * *

      Somewhere over the Atlantic

      Monday, September 14, 9:00 a.m. GMT

      K. J. GELINSKY’S LONG legs were stretched in front of her and a cup of coffee sat at her elbow. Jackson, Wyoming, was a long way away and yet only days ago she’d been admiring the view from her apartment window, still in awe of the mountain peaks that cradled the city. Now the only view was the blind that covered the jet’s window and hid the endless expanse of the Atlantic. At another time she would have soaked up the luxury of flying on such a plane, the decadence of being the only passenger with a flight attendant just a call-bell away. She’d been with Nassar Security for a little over a month and their use of private jets was still a novelty.

      No expense had been spared to get her on a jet and flown over the Atlantic at a moment’s notice. Briefly, she considered the resources of the men who owned both the agency in Wyoming and in Marrakech.

      She’d met only Faisal and then only briefly. But she’d liked him immediately. His youth had surprised her. But, at twenty-five, only the snowboard he’d carried under his arm when she’d met him unexpectedly in the parking lot had indicated anything other than what he was: a serious business owner. He’d welcomed her to the team and put the snowboard down to shake her hand with the cordiality she’d later heard he offered to all his employees.

      Faisal was approachable, friendly—the opposite of what she’d heard of his oldest brother who was rarely seen, at least by the Wyoming branch of the agency.

      With only hours before wheels to the ground in Marrakech, she was anxious to get started, intrigued by the assignment and more than curious to meet Emir Al-Nassar. The head of the Moroccan branch of the agency, Emir, and his twin, Zafir, were the reason the agency had expanded as rapidly as it had. Emir was a friend to the man she directly reported to, which was interesting in itself, as were Adam’s words as she’d prepared to leave. “He is one of the few people on earth I would trust completely.”

      This assignment was a coup for any agent. She’d been lucky that both her skill set and the fact that she’d been in New York on the last day of a training session had placed her as not only the logical choice but four hours closer than she’d normally have been.

      She pulled her thoughts back to the case. The fact that she would be working with Emir and what kind of man he might be was irrelevant. What recognition she might get from her employers, the potential boost to her career, also moot points that only clouded her thinking. And yet they were very valid moot points. This case would—could, she amended—be career-making. She emptied her mind, bringing herself into a state of meditation for a few minutes.

      Fifteen minutes later she was centered and focused on one thing: finding Sheikka Tahriha Al-Nassar.

      On the tray in front of her was everything she knew and everything she might need to know about the case. She’d been through much of it already. Now she scrolled through the pictures Adam had just sent her. She memorized the features of the kidnapped sister, but it was the picture of her oldest brother that wouldn’t leave her mind. Despite the fact that he was the president of the company, she’d never before seen a picture of him. She’d known that he and his brother Zafir were twins, but she hadn’t known they were identical. She’d never seen either of them in person. Adam had provided her with a picture of each of them, for although it was Emir she’d be working with, they were all in Marrakech awaiting her arrival.

      She clicked on Emir’s picture, noting


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