The Sheikh’s Forced Bride(25)
She closed her laptop and headed to the door. As soon as she opened it, two burly men in suits blocked the doorway. She glanced from one to the other. There was no missing the fact that these were the same two that had dragged her out of the Khalid’s failed wedding—and handed her over to the local police.
Neither man smiled, but one said in lightly accented English, “The sultan would prefer you to stay in your room for the next two days.”
“He would?” Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “I don’t suppose one of you is named Hazim.” The two guards swapped looks but said nothing. Casey nodded. “Tell Hazim I want to see him. And he’d better be here in the next hour or I’m going to start making some noise—and you both know I can be more than a handful.”
She closed the door on them. Heart pounding, she leaned against the door. Did Khalid know she was being held a virtual prisoner in her own room? Heading to the balcony, she glanced down. Too far to jump. Too hot as well. Maybe she could make a rope from knotted sheets, but she’d only seen that done in movies—she had the feeling any knot she tied would come undone. However, she had the palace phone, her cell, and her computer. She was not without resources.
She was also starting to wonder just why the sultan wanted her locked up—but the answer seemed obvious.
The sultan was ready for one of his other sons to marry Fadiyah, and if he wanted Casey out of the way that had to mean the wedding was supposed to happen right away. Fadiyah wasn’t just being pushed into a marriage, she was being shoved in right away.
Sitting down on her bed, Casey started sending out texts—and cursing because she’d never gotten Khalid’s number. She did, however, have the palace phone—and hopefully she had Hazim coming to see her.
It took Hazim over an hour.
She’d ordered breakfast—a large one—and had tried to get the maid to take a note to Khalid for her. The maid had turned pale and hurried away, as if frightened to do anything for Casey. She was going to guess the sultan had sent out orders to make sure Casey didn’t stop this second wedding with a scene. But Casey had other plans.
She’d also gotten texts out to Luke—one asking him to track down Khalid’s private cell number, but that was going to take time. And she’d texted her sister—Candace was a wiz with online research, and followed a dozen gossip websites. She might be able to get Khalid’s information faster than Luke could.
Casey had downed her coffee, nibbled on some sweat pastries and was starting to write an article in her head on tyrant sultans when a knock sounded on her door. She jumped up, her pulse skidding into high gear, and was almost a little disappointed when a stranger stepped into the room. She realized then she’d been hoping to see Khalid.
She faced the guy and folded her arms over her chest. “Hazim I presume?”
He gave a small nod and shut the door behind him. “I had word you wished to speak to me?”
She nodded and waved him into the room. She didn’t want the guards at the door to overhear anything. “I spoke to Fadiyah earlier today.”
Hazim’s steps faltered. He recovered and headed to the French doors. For a moment, he stared out the glass, then turned to her. He was a good looking man—not has handsome as Khalid, but rugged and broad. He wore his black hair close cropped, his dark eyes seemed hooded and guarded, and he had hands the size of good-sized hams. He tucked one hand into his suit pocket.
Casey shook her head. Hazim obviously wasn’t the talkative type. “Look, I know she’s in love with you and you’re in love with her.”
“She is to marry Sheikh Zaid tomorrow.”
Casey stared at the man. “You don’t sound all that upset.”
He lifted one hand. “What can I do?”
“You could do something—do you love the woman or not?”
“My wishes do not matter. I work for the sultan.”
With a low growl, Casey threw her arms up. “I’m about ready to let whatever happens to you happen—but I promised Fadiyah some help. Now are you going to help me?”
He gave her a wary stare. “Help out?”
“As in get me out of this room. I need to see Khalid.”
Hazim shook his head. “I will ask Sheikh Khalid if he will come to see you—more I cannot do. Fadiyah…it was never meant to be. I knew that always. And…and Sheikh Zaid is not a bad man.”
He started to the door, but Casey stepped into his path. “So you’re not going to do anything to save the woman you love from a marriage she doesn’t want.”
He stared at her, his expression as impassive as ever. “I do not expect you to understand our ways.”