Helping Kismet

  Helping Kismet

  Copyright © September 2011 Dahlia Rose

  Cover Art by For the Muses Design

  ISBN 978-1-936668-87-8

  All rights are reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Chapter One

  “Your highness it’s highly unlikely I’m wrong. I never make mistakes.” Her dark eyes flashed defiantly behind the traditional dress of Saudi Arabia.

  Prince Layth Ghassan watched her with interest sitting beside his father at the long conference room table. They listened as this woman pointed out what she’d found when she was auditing a charity in their country that was in conjunction with the United Nations. It wasn’t good at all, but Layth wasn’t paying it as much attention as he was to her. Her British accent was a delight to listen to combined with her husky voice, filled with fire and indignation at his father’s words. She was all proper. He remembered English girls well because he was educated in her country. So stiff and prim until you got under their skin. He wondered about her skin beneath the veil and clothes. From her hands he could see that she was a beautiful milk chocolate color. Her eyes were shaped like wide almonds and light brown. They sizzled in her anger easily enough as if she’d said the words to show her anger. He decided it might be wise to listen to the conversation instead of thinking about her. His father was the king of these lands. He didn’t want to see the young woman thrown into a jail because of disrespect. No, not one that enthralled him enough with one glance.

  His father began speaking. “Miss Fay, Let me assure you that the charity you speak of is run by my top financial aide. This is my daughter’s special project, and I will allow no one else to work with her except Josef. If there are discrepancies in the numbers, you obviously need to check them again.”

  “Sir, if I may be so blunt, again I do not make mistakes.” She took off her glasses and unclipped the veil from behind her ear. “The reason why I work in the United Nations audit department is because they know this. My intelligence level is over one hundred and eighty-five, well past genius stage, and I have a photographic memory. Take that ring your son is wearing for instance. Ask me what it looks like ten years from now, and I could describe it down to the ruby set as the lion’s eye. I resent the implication that it is I who has made an error. Furthermore, I have some of the women of your country who talk to me that live close to my hotel. There is no widows and orphans home in Diriyah. Right here in the paperwork is exactly what fourteen million dollars has been allotted to do, seven from your government and seven from the UN. I don’t know if you are accustomed to losing that amount of money, but certainly, sir, we are not.”

  Temper, temper, Layth thought with a mental laugh. There weren’t many who his father would let speak to him in such a way. He’d actually only heard his mother chastise his father which more delighted his father than upset him.. Yet a quick glance over to his father showed him that the king was trying very hard not to let his mouth curve into a smile. His father liked fiery women, and it seemed Layth inherited that trait as well. Right now Ciji Fay excited him like no other had.

  “What do you think, my son?” his father asked.

  “I think if she is correct then investigation needs to be started immediately,” Layth answered readily. “We do not need to give the world pause when it comes to our honor. We take care of our people, Miss Fay, and this matter will be investigated thoroughly.”

  She took a deep breath. “Thank you so much. I have given my superiors the initial information and will keep my report open until you have more about what’s going on for me to give to them. I can be reached at the Palms Hotel.” She rose to leave. “My apologies if it seems I came off rather abrupt on this matter. It’s an honorable thing you are doing for your people. I don’t want to see anyone take advantage by embezzling money that could help the less fortunate.”

  “We shall contact you soon, Miss Fay. Ma’a salama.” Layth inclined his head.

  “Ma’a salama,” she replied.

  He liked hearing their words flow from her lips with the lilt of her British accent. He heard his father’s heavy sigh as soon as the door closed behind her. “I should have expected this.”

  “I told you its becoming for some time father,” Layth said grimly. “Now look what he has done, stealing from the people father cannot be justified by any excuse.”

  “I don’t want to hurt your sister, she’d been shamed enough.” His father’s voice held sadness.

  Layth slammed his hand on the long marble table. “Josef has gone too far. How he could expect not to be caught, I don’t know! Not only will he bring shame to this house in the world’s eyes, but we have the constant shame to Hazariyah each time he takes another lover or abuses the house staff.”

  “Calm yourself, Layth. She loves him. Your sister chooses to see through his faults. When you finally fall in love and marry, you will understand.” His father smiled and patted his cheek. “Maybe Niema eh? She has an eye for you.”

  “She has an eye for royalty in general,” Layth commented. She was not the woman for his heart. Far from it. The daughter of one of the richest hotel men in Saudi Arabia wanted princess in front of her name, nothing more. Layth had no intention of being her way to that title or a throne. “What will we do about Josef?”

  “Find the truth, and if he is responsible, then he will pay for his crime,” his father said. “Hazariyah will have to learn that even gold tarnishes over time, and Josef has been given too many chances to change. She is my only daughter, and I spoil her I know, but there can be no fixing of this issue.”

  “These walls have had ears more than once. I think Josef will know before the sun sets and try to silence the little UN girl,” Layth said. “If there is no proof then he can write it off as a mistake in the numbers.”

  His father laughed. “I saw you looking at her, my son. Is this an excuse to spend more time with Miss Fay?”

  Layth grinned. “I can never hide anything from you, can I? Even so she must be protected until our investigation is over and then given safe passage to her home.”

  His father nodded. “Very well. You are the one to do it then. You’ve trained in the military so long I sometimes think you forget how to be a prince. When I die, you are to succeed me, you know. How will you do that if you do not stop this running around the world fighting in wars that are no concern of ours?”

  Layth smiled fondly at his father. “I will never forget how to be a man of honor, Father, because you taught me as such.”

  His father slapped him on the cheek, a sign of affection he used from the time Layth was a child. “Go protect the pretty girl. Take her to the palace in Jeddah. From there she can be sent home quickly and safely when necessary.”

  “That I will do.”

  Layth got up and walked toward the door. He looked back of his father staring out at the city through the floor to ceiling windows. He shook his head, tired of all the worry that Josef had caused his family, the heartache that was dealt to his sister. Layth stepped into the sunshine and put on his sunglasses to lessen the glare. Jeddah would be the first place they would look when they knew he was gone, and Ciji Fay was under his protection. He pulled the cell from his pocket and began to make calls with a smile on his face. It was time to become one of the desert people once more and find an oasis in the sands.

  He had people he trusted and who trusted him in return that could keep secrets like the tombs, until it was safe for her to be sent back to the United Kingdom. His father’s honor would make him do the right thing even if it caused embarrassment to the family. It was always better to face the truth head on and fix mistakes than to tr
y to cover it with more lies, he always said. Layth wondered when he himself would speak the truth and tell his father he didn’t want to be king. He would deal with that when the time came, but for right now he would go play bodyguard to the very attractive Miss Fay.

  * * * *

  Ciji dropped her purse and case on the bed and sighed. She took the veil she wore off and let the sheer red silk slip from her fingers onto the chair. Walking over to the big windows of her hotel, she looked out at the throngs of people below. How did the women manage it every day, she wondered, covered from head to toe in this heat. She pulled the blinds and made her room dim before taking off her clothes. They fell where they may, and she cranked the air conditioner to high and lay across her bed in only her bra and panties. Ciji closed her eyes and recalled the conversation with the king and his son. They were so quick to say they would investigate but would they? She had no clue and never dealt with much more than numbers. But when she found a fourteen million dollar paper trail that led to nothing, she felt she had to do something. Her superiors told her to deal with it quietly. The most quiet she wanted was to go through their books, do some shopping, and head back to London. Now she was probably going to be in the middle of an international incident. Just great!

  The cool air from the air conditioner made her sleepy. She’d been up from before sunrise working on her laptop. Ciji had to make sure she’d made no errors before the meeting with the king and the prince. The prince. She thought of him, and his face swam behind her eyelids. There was an enigmatic man, dark eyes and a rugged jaw that looked like it was cut from granite. A mouth that was sensuous when he smiled and the tapered eyebrow he lifted in surprise with her outburst. Under his gold and black checkered Keffiyeh, which was the head dress that they wore in the Middle East, she could see long hair that hung to his shoulders. He was supremely handsome and dare she admit—sexy. There was no way he would ever give her the time of day. Men like that married princesses and gained land. She had nothing to offer except a tiny cottage in Essex, England. But one can dream, she mused sleepily before drifting off.

  It was evening when she lifted her heavy eyelids. The dim room had become dark, erasing even the shadows that were in there before. Her stomach rumbled with hunger reminding her that she slept through lunch and probably dinner. But the good thing about living in a tourist hub and where the rich come to play, there was always someplace to eat.

  Ciji rolled from the bed and padded barefoot into the bathroom. Without even looking in the mirror she turned the knob in the shower on before taking off her bra and panties and stepping under the hot spray. It felt so good, and soon the smell of her pomegranate shower gel and the water opened her eyes, and she smiled.

  She stepped out of the shower and dried off thinking of nothing in particular as she rubbed body lotion on her skin. On a whim she checked her phone to see if there were any messages. None and she was quite happy with that. The thought of the money being embezzled was still a worry, but until King Ghassan conducted his own internal investigation, there was not much she could do. She wanted to give them a chance to make it right so when she reported to her superiors it would not be a black mark on such a beautiful country. One man’s evil intentions or greed shouldn’t take away from helping women and children. Right now, she would go downstairs and find a nice restaurant for a quiet dinner and maybe listen to music.

  She planned her night while she put on a pair of tailored slacks and a long sleeved satin top. Even though she knew it was not a requirement for her to wear a veil, she pulled a sheer black one from the pile she had bought when she first arrived and put it on easily. It took her a few attempts when she started using them to get it right, but now she felt like an old pro at it. Ciji smiled as she looked at her eyes in the mirror. The material always managed to make her feel exotic when she wore the veils. She grabbed her purse which held her documents and money. She had been warned in customs and by her superiors to always take her passport, United Nations identification, and documents with her wherever she went. Ciji made sure her room was locked and secured before she headed to the elevator and outside the hotel into the warm night.

  The sound of Arabic music filled the air along with the smell of cinnamon and exotic spices. The sizzle of meat cooking in an outside restaurant made her stomach rumble again as she set off looking for a place to eat. She was thinking about a cool drink of apricot juice to go with her meal as she moved through the crowd. The crowd thinned out farther down the street, and suddenly she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Two men directly in her path only a few feet ahead were looking at her. Their eyes were not friendly, and when they pointed and called her over with a crook of the finger, Ciji chose to step backward.

  They moved slowly almost casually through the crowd to follow her. She picked up her pace and swallowed the lump of fear that formed in her throat. Did the royal family send people after her because of what she knew? Oh my God. She didn’t want to believe that they had sent assassins to hurt her. She gave them the benefit of the doubt to take care of a situation before anyone knew. For her honesty and kindness, she would probably end up somewhere buried in the desert never to be found again. She looked behind her as she moved faster back into the thick crowd. The two men were shoving their way through, hell bent on catching up with her.

  The noise that once seemed so full of life and the magic of the city only seemed to enhance her terror. She felt someone clutch at the veil that hung around her shoulders. She didn’t know if it was them or if it got caught in the throngs of people. Ciji ripped it off and tried to keep moving. She finally thought she was free and had every intention of heading back to her hotel and packing up what she could before finding the British embassy. But it seemed she ran out of luck when someone grabbed her from the crowd and pressed her against the wall. A scream of terror rose to her lips, but it was held back when a huge hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled to escape with the intent of fighting for her life even if she failed.

  “Will you stop your infernal floundering?” The words were hissed by her ear, and they voice was familiar. “You are like a fish out of water.”

  “Prince Ghassan?” She asked shocked when he removed his hand from her mouth. She looked up into the dark eyes of the king’s son. He was not wearing the tailored Armani suit anymore but what seemed to be a dark green military tank shirt and desert camouflage pants, and his hair was pulled back into a pony tail.

  “Hello again, Miss Fay,” he murmured. “My, you look exquisite.”

  “There are men chasing me. Did you do this?” she demanded breathlessly. “Am I to disappear now that I spoke the truth?”

  “Certainly not. I’m here to protect you,” he said.

  They glance out together, and she saw the two men with sunglasses and red checkered Keffiyehs on their heads. She made a squeak of distress and leaned back against the wall.

  “Oh God, I hope they didn’t see me.” She looked up at him with her heart racing in her chest.

  He gave her a curious look before speaking softly, “Let’s make sure they don’t, shall we?”

  She didn’t have the chance to protest before he covered her lips with his, and she drowned in the heat of his kiss. The sounds of the city and her fear seemed to drain away under the onslaught of his expert mouth. She parted her lips, and his tongue invaded and found the secret taste of her mouth. She heard his groan and felt it rumble in his chest beneath her fingertips. Their tongues mated and dueled while passion bloomed inside her. Ciji could truly say she’d never been kissed like this in her life. He lifted his head and looked at her. Even in the dark of the alley she could see his eyes glittering like black jewels in the night.

  “Interesting,” he murmured as if saying it to himself.

  “Prince Ghassan,” she gasped not knowing what else to say after such a kiss.

  “I think under the circumstances you should call me Layth,” he said and took her hand. “Come on. Let’s get off the streets and to safety.
”

  He moved so quickly she had to run to keep up with his long strides. He didn’t look back while he moved through from one alley into the next. He knew the city well, and it amazed her. The royal families were not known for touring outside the place walls without an escort because of assassins or the fear of being kidnapped. She looked up at the massive wall of his body and knew most people would have second thought approaching him. Finally, outside the last turn they made was a sleek black car. Layth helped her into the back seat before getting in behind her.

  “Drive,” he ordered the man behind the wheel who sped off without a word.

  Ciji looked back as they drove away. She didn’t know if she was heading toward safety or disaster. There was nothing she could do about it now but sit beside the handsome prince and wonder what would happen next.

  Chapter Two

  The car drove through the night to the outskirts of the city where there were less lights. The night spread out over the desert like a blanket as they pulled up next to a man standing beside a huge Land Rover. Does he mean to drive out into the dessert at night? Panic set in wondering if this was a trap to get her out of the city and kill her. But she found that not to be the case when he stepped from the car and offered his hand to her.

  “M-maybe you should take me to the embassy. I’m sure they can take care of me from there,” Ciji said weakly as she stepped from the car. ‘I don’t want to be any trouble to you. I-I can pass over all information to you there.”

  He looked down at her, and the dark shadows of the night were on his face making him look more deadly.

  “Your throat would be slit in your bed by one of your people or mine,” he said coldly. “This is not like England, Ciji Fay. The treasures of my lands are vast, and people will kill for a taste of it without a second thought.”

  “How do I know you’re not one of those people trying to kill me to?” she demanded boldly.