Three and a Half Weeks(179)
Ella smiles back. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just use the salutation of King?”
“You know, maybe that would be best,” Trevor replies with a twinkle in his eye. “After all, I am king of my castle, aren’t I?”
“Don’t be too sure, Dad. This house has a strong queen; I don’t think there’s room for a king.” Ian winks at his mom.
On the way home, the interior of the fast sports car is quiet. Neither of them want to discuss the day or more specifically the two women who obviously held some claim on Ian in the past. What Ella couldn’t understand is why Faith invited them if she knew they were involved at one time? Sooner or later, they’d have to broach the subject but right now she wasn’t feeling up to it—her feelings of resentment were too fresh.
When they get to the house, by mutual agreement, they decide to take a nap and end up sleeping until nine that night, which left little time to do much else so they decide to actually do their guest list. When they’re done, there are nearly two hundred people who absolutely must be invited.
Ian looks at Ella: “This is going to be a big wedding. You know that right?”
“Unless we elope?”
“Our parents would kill us.”
“Not necessarily. By the way, am I still required to have a bodyguard?”
“For now, yes. Until I resolve the Natasha thing… Okay?”
Wearily she nods. “If you say so.”
Monday. The day is dragging on interminably: meeting after meeting. It’s an endless cycle but no one seems capable of making an independent decision; they all need bloody handholding. Rushing from one fire to the next, he didn’t even have any time to dwell on the big news of the day: the information his surveillance team relayed to him this morning.
Ian sighs, running his hand through his disheveled hair. He needs to get a haircut soon. Over the weekend, he and Ella called her parents and then went to Laurel Hill to tell his parents about their engagement and upcoming nuptials. That was a fiasco. How his mother unknowingly managed to invite not one but two of his former lovers, he doesn’t know. Ella was nervous enough about meeting his parents—she’d called it the den of lions. She’d really come close since she’d actually stepped into one with Diana Benson being present, not to mention the whining Kaylie. Now the circus will begin: he knows that once his mother sinks her teeth into it, there’ll be no stopping her. Poor Ella, he thinks. She doesn’t know what’s coming. The wheels very much in motion, they were going to be busy for the foreseeable future.
“Mr. Blackmon?” Janine’s voice comes through clearly over the speaker.
“What is it, Janine?”
“I have a call from Daniel Butler on line three, sir.”
He smiles. Janine using the term of respect reminds him of the first night he met Ella; when she called him sir, life as he knew it was all over. Of course, coming from Janine, it was merely annoying. “Put it through, please. Daniel?”
“Ian.”
“Any news?”
“Confirm that you’re alone and we’re not on speaker.”
“Confirmed.”
“Are your people still watching the subject?”
“Yes, but as I told you, she was grabbed earlier today and there’s been nothing since. Do we know who snatched her and why? It wasn’t the operative: he just arrived in Portland about an hour ago.”
“I do know. Now I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to think very hard before you answer. Do you really want to know her fate?”
Ian takes a moment to think about it, as Daniel advised. If he didn’t know, wouldn’t it be better? If she were dead, he’d feel guilt over it; there was no doubt about that. If she were alive, he might still have cause to worry or continue the op.
However, not knowing was unacceptable to a logical mind. He needed to know, despite the consequences. Taking a fortifying breath, he answered his friend. “Yes, Daniel, I want to know.”
“Okay, then, Ian. Here it is: Natasha Yenin is on her way to Saudi Arabia to become the sixth wife of an important sheik. Well, technically not a wife—more of a concubine, so I understand. He happens to like tall blonds. She will not have access to travel, means of communication, or any autonomy at all for a very long time, until, as he phrased it, she’s fully ‘reconciled’ to her new situation.” He promises she will not be harmed to any extent that will endanger her life or scar her body. He merely wants her to be trained to provide him pleasures that his Arab wives cannot be asked to provide due to religious strictures.
“Her uncles continue to lie low. Right now, they are living in Chechnya. There is no price on your head, anywhere that we could find. You are free to live your life and have some fun for a change. How’s that for an update?”