Sheikh's Blackmailed Love (12 page)

The studio audience burst into scattered applause, but as the camera scanned the crowd Dario could see that there were a few scowls as well.

As Bailey, dressed in a fashionable Western suit with her hair tied back, walked out onto the stage, Dario felt a pang of panic for her. Somehow, over the course of their acquaintanceship, he had forgotten how small she really was. Crossing that stage alone, she looked almost unbearably delicate.

“Hello, Mariya,” she said warmly, taking her seat at the couch. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

“And an unexpected pleasure to have you here,” Mariya said. “I’ll admit, when you contacted me for an interview, I was more than a little shocked. Can you tell me and the audience here about what prompted that decision?”

Bailey smiled a little, glancing down.

“Well, I’ve been in the desert for the past few months, and I am only now getting back to the real world. In just over twenty-four hours, I’m going to be on a plane getting back to the United States. The last thing I thought I was going to be doing was getting on television, but then I saw a headline that stopped me dead in my tracks.”

She took a deep breath before continuing.

“I was shocked when I realized there were people who believed, truly believed, that Sheikh al-Nejem was failing his people. As a matter of fact, I do not think that I have met a man who loved or cared more about his country than Sheikh al-Nejem does. There has never been a doubt in my mind that he places his country’s welfare first, no matter what the circumstances.”

Mariya’s eyes narrowed, reminding Dario of a shark that has scented blood in the water.

“Can we truly believe that you are an impartial observer, though, Bailey? The news was full of talk about the Christensen raid, which is set to go to trial in the next few months. There were plenty of people who said the fact that you are not among that number is not to be countenanced.”

Bailey’s head came up, and she looked fearlessly at the woman interviewing her. Even as Dario’s hands clenched into fists, aching to defend her, he was proud of her courage.

“You have heard of my situation, I imagine, but I don’t think that you’ve heard about it from me. It feels like it has been a thousand years since I got a message from Christensen himself, asking me to work on the dig. This is something I thought was genuine. I spoke to old professors and government officials alike to find out if it was a real opportunity, and Christensen had them well and truly fooled because they told me that it was.

“I came to Jabal because I was poor and I wanted to work. I wanted to work so badly, and more than that, I was so excited to be a part of a dig that would further Jabal’s long and illustrious history. When I was at the camp, it was far too late. I could do nothing to save myself or to change things. I was one woman, and they were men with guns.”

Her voice broke slightly.

“I was afraid. I was afraid all the time, and I had a feeling that the worst was going to happen when my rescue occurred.”

“Your rescue, can you talk more about that?” asked Mariya. “We are told that the sheikh played a part in that…”

“He was a hero,” Bailey said forcefully. “The first time I saw Sheikh al-Nejem, I didn’t know who he was. I passed him a note begging for help, and he responded. He came out of the night like some kind of avenging angel, leading the charge, and he saved me.

“I am under no belief that I am in any way important. I know that he was there, risking life and limb to save the history of the people and the country that he loves so much. However, he did save me, and that is something for which I will always be thankful.”

Dario could tell that the entire studio audience was hanging on to her every word. A pin drop could be heard in the set at that point, it was so silent.

“You sound very fervent,” Mariya said, her voice gentle. “Is there perhaps more than gratefulness tinging your words?”

Bailey laughed a little.

“Nothing so soap-operaish, I’m afraid. The sheikh is an amazing man. He is like no one else I have ever known, and yes, it is not only gratefulness that I feel for him.”

She paused then, fiddling with her necklace before she continued. With a pang, he saw she was wearing the aquamarine he had given her.

“I do love him,” she said softly. “Very much. But I also understand my place. He has duty, honor, and his country to consider. I am only a woman he saved along the way. He will have my thanks and my love for the rest of his life.”

Mariya blinked, as if she had not expected such a blunt answer.

“Well, thank you so much for your candid response, Bailey, and for opening a window for the people of Jabal on what has been one of the most fiercely contested periods of the new sheikh’s reign. We are just about out of time, however…”

Majid turned off the phone, stowing it in his sleeve again.

“I am not certain how we missed it,” he said slowly. “But when I saw that, I remembered talking with her when I took her to Rising Star. She is a beautiful woman, she always will be, but when she spoke about you, she glowed.”

Dario wasn’t listening. Instead, he was thinking about his brave Bailey, and what it had taken for her to go on public television to defend him. From their inauspicious beginning when she had accused him of blackmailing her, they had arrived here to this place, where she was pouring her heart out in front of an audience of hundreds of thousands, all for his reputation.

He had always known that she was beautiful and kind, but now he knew how brave she was as well.

“That one would make a good queen,” Majid said, studying him carefully. “Some women bring money and lands to a marriage, while others bring only themselves. That one, I think, would have within herself all the dowry that anyone could ask for.”

Majid had barely finished speaking before Dario was running back to the encampment, heading for the convoy vehicles. He had seen the date stamp for the interview, and he knew that he didn’t have much time.

*

Bailey was startled when the flight attendant touched her arm.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said, “but you need to leave the plane.”

Her eyes went wide.

“What? But… but what’s the matter?”

“I’m afraid I cannot say,” he said, and there was a distinct nervousness in the way he spoke. “But you need to disembark the plane immediately.”

The other passengers were eying her warily, and as she gathered up her things, her heart beat faster.

Had the police wanted to speak with her after all about Christensen? Dear God, had Christensen gotten out to come looking for her? Her mind blurred with terrible scenarios, and she stumbled off the plane, following the attendant to a small luxurious private lounge.

Waiting there for her was the last person she expected to see.

“Dario!”

He turned to face her, his dark eyes serious. She was startled to see that he was dusty, as if he had just walked off the site.

“I have been a fool,” he said abruptly. “I have only thought about my country, when I should have remembered what my country truly needs.”

She felt dizzy as he knelt in front of her.

“My country needs a queen who will fight for herself and the man she cares about. My country needs a sheikha who is bold and fearless, who will speak up when things are not right. I am my country, Bailey, and you know that better than anyone.

“Bailey, I need you. Will you marry me?”

Her eyes filled with shocked and surprised tears, but her heart knew her best.

“Yes,” she choked out. “Yes, yes, oh yes, Dario…”

With a flourish, he slid a ring on her finger. Even her inexperienced eyes could see that it was a true diamond the size of her pinky nail, and it glittered in the light.

He rose up to his full height and pulled her into his arms.

“I was a fool,” he murmured roughly. “I was a fool and I almost let you slip through my fingers. Will you forgive me?”

She laughed through her tears, nodding.

“I will forgive you, and I will care for you, and I will love you every day of my life,” she whispered.

As he bent to kiss her passionately, she knew that this and every day after was finally their real life together.

THE END

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Chapter One

Madeline Anthony drummed her fingers impatiently on the linen-covered table as she checked her watch for the tenth time.
Half an hour late,
she thought. Her heart sank as she glanced up toward the restaurant’s entrance, hoping that she would see her fiancé, Jason, walk in.

Instead, she watched a cute Asian couple walk through the doors of the expensive French restaurant, arm in arm as the wind swept them into the foyer. The flush on the woman’s cheeks could be attributed to windburn, Madeline supposed, but the sparkle in her eyes as she looked up at her man could only be the product of love. And by the way her lover tucked her in close to his side, possessive and protective all at once as he smiled down at her, Madeline could tell he felt the same way.

God, why can’t I have that?

Pressing her lips together, Madeline turned her gaze away from the couple and back to her wineglass. Empty again. She signaled the waiter for a refill, then sipped the pale gold liquid while she considered whether or not to text Jason and ask if she should order for him. It wasn’t really a surprise that he was late—he was a corporate banker, a very successful one, and he tended to work long hours to keep up with his demanding, multimillion-dollar clients.

It was his success that had drawn him to her, she mused, tracing the edge of her wineglass with the tip of her finger. Sure, they’d been college students when she’d met him, in her junior year at NYU, but he’d already donned the charismatic air that drew his clients to him, that had drawn
her
to him. He’d had a way with people and money that had made her decide early on in their relationship that he would be a good choice. And when he’d gotten down on one knee and asked for her hand in marriage, she’d not hesitated to let him slip a ring on her finger.

That ring sparkled in the golden light of the chandeliers above, and she lifted it now to study it with the same dispassion she sometimes viewed her relationship with. It was a princess-cut diamond flanked with emeralds just a few shades darker than her eyes, and at the time Jason had given it to her she’d loved it. But now she saw it more as a symbol of their relationship—shiny and glamorous on the outside, but hollow and useless on the inside.

She wasn’t exactly certain when the spark had gone out of their relationship. Maybe it had been sometime last year, after Jason had flown to Japan for a corporate conference. Or maybe it had been before that. But he’d been gone for three weeks, and when he’d come back, somehow the two of them had grown apart, and they hadn’t quite been able to manage the same level of closeness they’d had before. This dinner date, and the other ones she’d scheduled for later this month, were an attempt to rekindle that spark. They were supposed to be getting married in three short months, and if they didn’t have the spark back by then she was going to have to call things off. And she really didn’t want to have to give up after three years if their relationship could be fixed somehow.

The sound of the wind whistling in through the doorway drew her attention back to the entrance, and she sighed with relief when she saw Jason walk in through the doors. He was still as incredibly handsome as he’d always been, with his thick bronze hair, pale blue eyes and wonderfully tanned skin. The steel-grey suit he wore beneath his greatcoat fit his tall, athletic body perfectly. But there was no answering flutter in her chest when he looked across the room, and the ice that had slowly begun to creep around her heart didn’t retreat at the sight of his charming, apologetic smile. Relief was all she felt, and she supposed that would have to do for now.

“I’m so sorry, Madeline,” Jason said as he crossed the room toward her. Madeline stood as he approached, almost automatically—Jason was quite tall, nearly a foot and a half above her five-foot-three frame, so she didn’t want to greet him while seated. “I got caught up in a company meeting that just seemed to go on forever.”

“That’s alright.” She embraced him, and as he bent to kiss her she thought she smelled a whiff of perfume on his collar. She brushed it off—Jason was around female secretaries all day, so it wasn’t so strange that some of their perfume might have rubbed off on him. His lips met hers, a light brush of skin on skin. She waited for the familiar tingle, but it never came. It was no more thrilling than if someone had tapped her on the shoulder. “How was your day?”