Surgeon Sheik's Rescue. Лорет Энн Уайт

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      On the surface Amelie Chenard’s story seemed feasible, thought Tariq as he got in the limo, but he trusted nothing. And no one.

      The limousine had been Omair’s idea. Hide in plain sight, his brother had said. Make the image fit. He could hear Omair’s words now.

      The more important and mysterious you seem, the more these islanders will respect your privacy and keep their distance. The less likely they’ll be to discuss you with outsiders.

      Omair had been right about the islanders. Amelie Chenard was another story.

      Suspicion snaked deeper into him.

      Know your enemy. Keep him close.

      Those had always been his father’s words.

      Tariq inhaled deeply as he leaned back into the limo seat. Again his brother Omair’s words sifted to mind.

      Tell me at once if anything unusual happens...our family, our country, our kingdom is at stake.

      This was not just about him. Tariq’s secret was also his family’s secret. If Amelie Chenard was after something more than the abbey ghost... Bitterness filled his mouth and he cursed. He needed to face her, deal with, then dispose of her if necessary.

      As his bodyguard climbed into the car he said, “Go tell that woman to be at the abbey tomorrow, 5:00 p.m. sharp. I’ll see her then.”

      His man looked at him, a brief hesitation crossing his face.

      “Now!” Tariq snapped.

      If she gave him cause to suspect her motivation further, he’d ask Omair and his military intelligence team to investigate her. She’d be sorry she ever came prying.

      * * *

      Bella pushed through the restaurant’s heavy wood door and rushed out into the frigid night. Frantically scanning the street, she saw his vehicle parked a short way up the hill, exhaust smoke beginning to puff white into the cold air, one of the doors still open. She began to run toward the car, aiming to apologize, explain, anything that might stop him from leaving, stop him from shutting her out permanently. She’d come so far for this story already, she would not let it die here in this cold cobblestone street.

      But as she ran, a man suddenly appeared out from the shadow at her side, his huge form blocking the pale light from the streetlamp.

      Bella froze, her mind hurtling back to the attack in D.C. She spun around to flee. But the man lurched forward and grabbed her arm in a viselike grip. She bit back the scream rising in her chest as the lamplight caught the man’s face and she registered the raw-boned, dark features of the second bodyguard.

      Air whooshed out of her.

      “What in hell do you think you’re doing!” she hissed, jerking her arm free, heart thumping loudly against her rib cage.

      “Monsieur Du Val wanted me to inform you that if you wish to see him he will be available at the abbey tomorrow at 5:00 p.m.” The man spoke French with the rolling r’s of Arabic and his right hand hovered close to his hip where Bella had seen a gun the other day.

      Her gaze flashed to the waiting limousine. “He said what?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard right.

      “Report to the security gate at five, ring the bell, and someone will bring you in.”

      Before she could open her mouth again, the man turned and strode up to the waiting limo.

      Incredulous, Bella stood rooted to the spot, watching him climb in. She heard the door slam. The vehicle pulled out into the narrow street. Brake lights flared bright at the top of the hill. The limo rounded the corner, then disappeared.

      Silence pressed down.

      Snowflakes wafted thicker around her and Bella began to shiver. The fog was coming up from the harbor dense and damp. She made her way back to the restaurant, feeling like an Alice who’d slipped into some strange alternate reality, because nothing felt real. But at least now she had her invite, if she could call it that.

      * * *

      Tariq leaned back in the dark interior of his vehicle as they headed up toward the deserted windswept side of the island. Snow was coming down very heavily at the higher elevation, blowing vertically. The wipers struggled to clear arcs across the windshield.

      “What did she say?” he said quietly to his bodyguard in Arabic. “Is she coming?”

      “I believe so.”

      Tariq closed his eyes, his tension increasing as they neared the spiked iron gates of the monastery.

      This was his lair, his private home. He’d been forced to invite her inside, simply to ensure she was not a threat. Or was that all? Was there perhaps, buried deep down inside, a darker, more carnal part of himself that actually wanted to see her again, speak to her, maybe even touch her, satisfy a curiosity that went beyond the cerebral, or practical?

      The irony twisted through him, along with a stab of trepidation.

      Tariq had always been a physical man. A love and appreciation of women had always burned fierce and pure in his gut. But unlike his younger brother, he’d always been a one-woman man.

      And for the last five years of his life, that one woman had been Julie. And her memory was still sharp.

      An interest in someone else was not a transition Tariq was ready, or willing, to make.

      Not only that...it could be dangerous.

      Chapter 3

      It was late, a blanket of snow hushing the night world outside, but inside her small room Bella was still buzzing from her experience at the restaurant as she opened her Skype contact list, clicked on Hurley’s icon, hit Video Call.

      Hurley answered on the second ring, his affable features looming live onto her screen, his reddish-brown dreads framing his freckled face, the fishbowl effect of the webcam making him look even rounder than usual.

      “Bella,” he said. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past forty-eight hours. I have—”

      “It’s him, Hurley,” she said quietly. “The man living in the abbey is Prince Tariq Al Arif. The palace lied about his death. MagMo failed to assassinate him.” She spoke in a whisper, a sense of urgency, secrecy taking hold of her.

      “Are you certain? Are you ready to run something on the site?”

      “I need proof before I break anything. If I send you some of the high-resolution images of his face, you think you and Scoob could try for a biometrics match?”

      “Without a doubt. Scoob’s facial-recognition software is top-of-the-line security stuff, Bella. If it’s him, we’ll get a match. But—”

      “Hang on.” Bella quickly began loading the digital images into a file. She hit Send, then glanced up registering for the first time a strange sheen of perspiration on Hurley’s СКАЧАТЬ