She told him she'd reconnect with her informant, get the rest of the promised info. And he forbade her to. He wouldn't risk her in any way, not even if the kingdom hung in the balance. He would find another way to discover the truth.
Then, reluctant to leave her but having matters to attend to, he gave her a cell phone so they could call each other until he could start seeing her again. Which he intended to be as soon as possible.
It took arriving at the palace-which was right up there with the Taj Mahal, just far more extensive-to take her mind off the turmoil of their situation, off feeling bereft at being away from him.
When she'd researched Zohayd before coming there, she'd read that the mid-seventeenth-century palace had taken more than three decades to build, and thousands of artisans and craftsmen to build it. But it was one thing looking at detailed photos, no matter how stunning they'd been, and something totally different treading this place with her own feet, feeling the history and grandeur saturating the walls and halls surround her, permeating her senses.
Just being there explained so much about Harres, how such a powerhouse had come into existence. The nobility and power and distinction, the ancient bloodline that had forged this place coursed through him. From what she'd seen of his relatives, it also did in them.
And no matter what he said, she had to do all she could to protect this legacy. Even if she hadn't fallen in love with him and would therefore do anything to protect him and his loved ones, Harres had been right. The whole kingdom was steeped in peace and prosperity. She'd been prejudiced when she'd thought that it would be better off without the royal family that had clearly done so much to produce and maintain that.
But if she played her cards right, she might help bring the danger to Harres and his family, to the kingdom and the whole region, to an end.
Just as she began to call her informant, reinitiating contact, her alibi for her long absence rehearsed, the phone came alive in her hand.
Knowing it was Harres, she pounced on the answer button.
His beloved voice poured into her ear. "I have news, ya habibati. The investigations and negotiations I had my family do while we were in the oasis bore fruit. Your brother will be released from prison. There won't be a retrial, just the charges dropped and he will be given a public apology in every international newspaper and anything he demands in compensation."
To say she was overcome would be to say her love for him was a passing fancy. She began to babble her shocked elation and thanks when he said, "I beg your forgiveness, ya nadda jannati. There is another pressing thing I have to attend. I'll call again the second I can. Until then, congratulations, ya mashoogati."
She stared at the phone, reeled. Todd. Released. It was over. Really over. She'd have her brother back. He'd have his life back. It was too much to take in. Harres hadn't told her that he'd been working to exonerate Todd already. But he had been, and he'd succeeded. And she knew it had all been for her.
She fell on the bed and curled into a tight ball. She felt she might explode from too much love and relief and gratitude otherwise.
Then she burst up in a frenzy of purpose, dialed the number of her informant. She was told the number was no longer in service. She tried again, just to make sure she hadn't dialed it wrong. She hadn't. It must have been a temporary number so it couldn't be tracked. On the same thought, she went online, shot him an email, listing her phone number.
Moments after she hit Send, the phone's distinctive three-tone ring shot through her again. Harres. He must have more info.
Her flailing hand dropped it twice before she could answer. Then she almost dropped it again.
It wasn't Harres. It was a distorted voice that scraped her every nerve raw. Her informant's.
She hadn't dreamed he'd get back to her that fast. But it wasn't that that shocked her mute. It was what he'd said.
"Hello, Dr. Talia Jasmine Burke."
She squeezed her eyes. So their precautions hadn't worked. She didn't know how, but her cover was blown.
"Don't worry, doctor. I still want to do business with you. You're now in an even better situation to do the most damage. Harres is doing all he can to stay on your good side, to exploit you, so I hope you aren't falling for his charm and forgetting your original goal to redeem your brother." At her gasp, the distorted voice gave a macabre chuckle. "Yes, I know everything. That's why I went after you in the first place. Because I wanted someone with a cause, and because you are a woman. It suits me to have the Aal Shalaan's downfall be at the hands of someone who has a vendetta against them, and who better than a woman to bring all those mighty men to ruin.
"And now, I'll tell you who the mastermind behind the conspiracy is. Yusuf Aal Waaked, prince of the neighboring emirate of Ossaylan."
Talia at last found her voice. "But why expose him and risk having the Aal Shalaans stop the conspiracy in its tracks once they learn who they have to fight and where they need to look for their missing jewels?"
"Oh, there's nothing the Aal Shalaans can do with his identity. My exposure will actually guard against him changing his mind. It will guarantee he'll see this through to the end."
Suddenly there was a long silence then the voice became uglier, scarier. "You idiot! You'll use the info to help Harres, won't you? He has gotten to you. I should have known, with a woman in the legendary playboy prince's clutches for so long. He must have you willing to sell your soul for him by now. But I'll prove to you that he and his family don't deserve your help, but your vengeance."
The line went dead.
She didn't know how long she'd stayed there, staring into space, shaking with agitation.
At last she roused herself. She had to call Harres, give him the new info. No matter what her informant said, she was sure Harres would do something with it, maybe solve this whole mess.
As she began to dial his number, two masked men burst into the room from the French doors that opened to a patio leading to the gardens. The gun in the first's hand made sure she didn't attempt a scream or a struggle.
"We won't harm you," the armed man said, "if you don't try to expose us. We just want you to come with us. There's something our master wants to show you."
They took her from the French doors, swept her around the palace through the extensive grounds.
They entered through another open French door into a room. It was empty. Before she could say anything, she heard Harres's voice.
Her heart fired with hope, then dread crashed right on its heels. What if he walked in here, and they panicked, shot him?
But then she realized he wasn't moving. He was in an adjoining room, talking to someone. On the phone.
" … and how many women have you seen me take and discard? You think this American means more than any of them? The others at least were pleasant pastimes I remember with some goodwill. She, on the other hand, almost cost me my life. Can you even imagine the distaste I suffered as I catered to her for so long, struggled to save her miserable life, to get her to trust me and spill her secrets, and to change her mind about exposing them? Do you realize how enraged I was when I found out she knew practically nothing? But I had to continue to play along. I knew she could still renew her mission and secure the rest of the promised info."
He was silent for a moment, then he drawled, his voice pitiless, "Why do you think I gave her the trivial incentive of setting her brother free? She trusts me with her life now, will do anything to get me my coveted intel. I went so far as to proclaim my love, would have even offered to marry her if necessary."
He was silent for a moment more as the person on the other line interrupted him. Then Harres gave an ugly laugh, a sound she'd never thought could issue from him. "I might have afforded a measure of chivalry and human compassion in other circumstances. But anyone is expendable in my quest to fulfill my duty to protect this kingdom. So if she's useless to me on that front, do you really think I care if she lives or dies?"
Twelve
"Did you hear enough, ya ghabeyah?"
Ghabeyah. Stupid.
She'd been far beyond that.
She was beyond devastated.
The nightmarish voice continued. "That's what your prince says when he's having a private conversation with his crown prince, who's taking him to task over you. That's the ugly truth of his feelings. Still want to run to him with the information? Or will you now finally take the revenge you're owed?"
Talia stared at the phone on the bed. Who'd turned it on? How had she made it back to this room?