Fit for a Sheikh. Kristi Gold
began filling the black duffel bag with supplies and clothing he would need for his travels. He paused momentarily to survey the room where he’d resided over the past year. His cousin, Hassim “Ben” Rassad, had welcomed him into his home and facilitated Darin’s membership into the elite Texas Cattleman’s club, a group of men who assisted in apprehending criminals few would dare to confront. Although Darin was grateful for the opportunities, he planned to move on to the next mission alone, tracking an extremist in Obersburg who had threatened the royal family. He had no ties in America aside from his older brother, Raf, who resided in Georgia, and Ben. As for his homeland, Amythra, he’d vowed to never return. The place held nothing but bitter memories.
“The car is on its way.”
Darin turned toward the door to find his cousin dressed in faded jeans and scuffed cowboy boots that gave no indication he, too, had been born into nobility. Glancing at the lone bag set on the end of the bed, Ben asked, “Is that all you are taking?”
“I do not anticipate remaining for more than a few days.”
“You should pack this, as well.”
Darin afforded a cursory glance at the square of white cloth and gold band Ben held out to him. “I have no need for a kaffiyeh where I am going.” He’d had no need for any royal trappings for some time now. Ben’s brother, Kalib, ruled as king of Amythra, therefore Darin was far down the line in terms of inheriting the throne. A good thing because he did not want that burden. He never had.
Ben offered the kaffiyeh again. “You could use it as a disguise, if for no other reason.”
Seeing no need to argue that point, Darin took the kaffiyeh from Ben and stuffed it inside the bag’s outer pocket.
“Alexander Kent tells me he has arranged assistance from the Bureau,” Ben said.
Something else that did not please Darin, although he greatly respected Alex Kent, a former FBI agent and fellow Cattleman’s Club member. “I would prefer to work alone.”
Ben released a frustrated sigh. “Might I remind you that when you joined our organization, you agreed to work with the others as a team?”
Darin needed no reminders. He’d been working that way for the past year, and he’d had no difficulty adhering to the policy. But this was different. This was personal. “I did not realize that this assignment would include other branches of law enforcement.”
“It is necessary since this mission does not involve private hire. The illegal adoption ring and extortion violated federal law. That is the way in this country.”
“I will honor the law. I will also have Birkenfeld in custody in a matter of days.”
Ben looked skeptical. “Do you really believe you will find him so quickly?”
Darin holstered the Beretta, secured the strap over his shoulder then slipped a black jacket over his T-shirt and the gun. “Birkenfeld is not as smart as he believes, even if he did escape the authorities.” And that thought brought about Darin’s anger. He had been involved in the doctor’s original capture, only to have the criminal slip through their hands due to Birkenfeld’s cunning and desperation and one novice police officer’s inadvertent mistake.
“Then you are certain he is still in Las Vegas?” Ben asked.
Normally Darin would be guarded with that information, something else he had pledged when he’d joined the Cattleman’s Club. But Ben was still officially a member, though he’d retired from active missions since his marriage. Therefore, Darin had no reason to withhold details in the case. “He is there, according to the attorney, Larry Sutter, Birkenfeld’s cohort. Birkenfeld contacted Sutter on his cell phone and arranged a meeting in some obscure Las Vegas lounge. I am to join an operative posing as a bartender.”
“This Sutter is in Las Vegas, as well?”
“Yes, in a hospital under protective custody since he has decided to turn state’s evidence in exchange for a lesser sentence. It appears he will be there for a while as he recovers from Kent’s beating.”
“Alexander Kent beat him?” Shock reflected in Ben’s tone and expression.
“He was protecting his lover from Sutter while they were infiltrating the adoption ring. There are no limits to what a man will do for the woman he loves.” Even kill if necessary, something Darin knew intimately.
Ben sent him a knowing look. “Very true. I, too, have been in that position.”
So had Darin, yet he had failed where Ben had not.
Ben thrust his hands in his pockets and watched while Darin took a few more things from the bureau drawers and added them to the bag. Darin sensed his cousin wanted to say something more, and not necessarily anything he wanted to hear.
“Are you certain you should be the one undertaking this particular mission?” Ben asked, confirming Darin’s suspicions.
“I volunteered. Unlike the other members involved, I have no wife with whom to be concerned.” No one waiting for him. No one who really worried over his activities.
“It is past time for you to consider settling down, Darin. Past time you find a suitable woman to share in your life.”
After stuffing the last of his clothing into the bag, Darin zipped it with a vengeance. “I have no desire to settle down. After Raf’s wife died, I decided my brother and I are cursed when it comes to women.”
Ben’s smile was cynical. “I thought you were too logical to believe in curses.”
“I was, before…” Before his world had come apart with the speed of a bullet.
“Before you lost her,” Ben finished for him. “Yes, the outcome was tragic, but we are all fortunate, and grateful, that you stopped Habib before he did further harm. You had no control over the situation beyond that.”
“I do not care to take the risk with another woman. Not with the life I choose to lead.”
“Yet you risk your life much of the time. Why not take a chance on finding a wife? I did, and I have no regrets.”
Darin recognized that Ben had found a very special woman, someone worth that risk. An American woman whose determination and spirit equaled most men Darin had known. He could not blame his cousin for falling for Jamie. She was everything a man would desire in a life partner, beautiful and full of passion. Ben and Jamie’s commitment and love for each other was obvious in every look they exchanged, a painful reminder of what Darin had once had—and lost—and one of the reasons why he needed to leave their home. The other reason cried, “Papa! Papa!” as she rushed into the room and grabbed Ben around the legs, her light brown hair flowing over her tiny shoulders.
Ben picked up two-and-a-half-year-old Lena and lifted her high above his head, much to the little girl’s delight. “You are full of energy today, yáahil.” He brought her into his arms and kissed her cheek. “I thought you were making xúbuz with your mother and Alima.”
Lena wrinkled her upturned nose. “I don’t like bread. I want cookies.” She sent Darin a vibrant smile, much like her mother’s, then pointed to his chin. “Scratchies all gone, Dawin?” she asked, as always mispronouncing his name, something Darin found endearing.
Ignoring the deep ache radiating from his heart, he rubbed his clean-shaven jaw and favored her with a smile. “Yes, little one. All gone down the drain.” He’d removed the goatee that morning to make himself less recognizable to Birkenfeld. He had also cut his hair to the top of his collar and now wore a gold loop in each ear. Hopefully enough of a change to disguise himself somewhat, which brought about a reminder of something he had almost forgotten.
Darin tucked his hair behind his ears and set the black baseball cap low on his forehead. He then picked up the bag and said, “I am ready.”
Lena leveled her dark eyes on him. “Where ya goin’, Dawin?”
He