Captured By A Sheikh

Holly pictured Griff, whom she’d known casually for years. An easygoing, talkative fellow, he played drums in an alternative rock band with which Jazz sang.

He’d had a minor drug conviction a few years back, and he’d managed to avoid being questioned by the police since she reported Jazz missing. Nevertheless, she couldn’t imagine him hurting her sister.

“If he were up to something, why would he give himself away by bringing me the baby?” she pointed out.

The sheikh finished eating. “I do not know. I am grateful that at least he put my son in good hands.”

Holly’s cheeks warmed, and she hurriedly changed the subject. “I think she left of her own free will, but then something prevented her from coming back for Ben. I’ve been so worried.”

“I share your concern that something has gone wrong,” he said slowly. “This Noreen Wheaton, the director of the clinic, might be afraid of someone, or she is playing a game of her own.”

He pushed back his chair and walked to a leather suitcase. From a side pocket, he drew some papers. “Here is a copy of our contract with the clinic. I brought it to prove that the baby is mine. Perhaps you will see something in them that I have missed.”

The papers bore the name of the Crestline View Clinic. The legal terminology covered such issues as privacy and liability.

Holly studied the signatures at the bottom: Sharif Al-Khalil, witnessed by Zahad Adran, and Noreen Wheaton, witnessed by someone named Manuel Estrellas.

“Do you know anything about this man Estrellas?” she asked.

The sheikh took a seat beside her. “A clinic employee, I presume.”

She scanned the contract again. “Why isn’t Jazz’s name on here?”

“We were told she signed a separate contract with the clinic,” Sharif said.

“But she knew about you, right?” Holly returned the document to him. “I mean, that the baby was going to be raised by your aunt and your cousin?”

“You make it sound as if there were something wrong with my arrangements.”

Holly plunged in. “I just don’t believe Ben will be happy growing up without a mother.”

A tightening of the sheikh’s mouth indicated that she’d overstepped her bounds. “I would not have arranged to have a son if I could not provide him with a proper home.”

Tears pricked Holly’s eyes. “I just don’t want to lose him.”

His harsh expression softened. “Have you considered what will happen when your sister returns?” he said. “By your own account, she is unreliable, and you could not prevent her from reclaiming the child. What kind of life would he lead then?”

“I’ve been trying not to think about that.” Staring down at the table, Holly took a deep breath.

She reminded herself that Trevor wanted to marry her, and there was no reason they couldn’t have children of their own. But those children wouldn’t be Ben. They wouldn’t be the baby who’d opened the floodgates of love inside her.

The sheikh brushed a tear from her cheek. “To lose this child would hurt you very much.”

All she could do was nod.

“You are a woman who lives for others,” he murmured. “What then is left for yourself?”

“I don’t need anything for myself.” It seemed so obvious that she was surprised she had to explain it. “What more could a person want than to ensure the happiness of the people she loves?”

His hand cupped her chin. The roughness of his palm testified to a hard life, and yet his fingers stroked her jawline as lightly as a whisper. “Let us reach a sensible agreement, Holly Rivers. One that is truly best for all of us.”

“An agreement?” She allowed herself to meet his gaze.

“I propose that, tomorrow, you and I go together to the authorities,” he said gravely.

“You mean you’ll turn yourself in?”

“As soon as I find a lawyer, yes.” He studied her. “Will you promise to explain that you entered my car of your own free will?”

She nodded. “Of course. It’s the truth.”

“I will present the contract and show that I have only taken my own son,” he said. “It is a gamble, but I doubt they will press charges. It would be the fastest way to resolve this situation. And for us to get away from whoever is trying to kill me.”

“Then what happens to Ben?” Tears threatened again, because she knew the answer.

“You must admit that he will be better off with me than with your sister,” said the sheikh. “Also, in compensation for spoiling your wedding, I will pay for a private detective to search for her.”

For a crazy moment, Holly contemplated offering to go to Alqedar and take care of Ben. Just to keep him close, this child of her heart. To give him a mother, after all.

But what place could she have in a land so unfamiliar she doubted she could find it on a map?

Doubts tore at her. What if Sharif was tricking her in some way? The contract might have been altered. Maybe nothing was as it seemed to be.

She’d never had to deal with such a situation before. If Trevor were here…but, of course, he wasn’t.

She needed this man’s trust. And her deepest instincts told her that he would never, under any circumstances, harm Ben.

“All right,” she said slowly, still not certain she was making the right decision. “If everything is as you present it, I agree not to fight for custody.”

Outside, the rain settled into a steady, lulling pattern. The long day, the full meal and the lingering effects of medication must be taking their toll, because Holly found herself fighting a yawn.

“You need sleep.” Taking her hand, the sheikh pulled her gently to her feet.

At the bed, Holly curled beside Ben. She was only vaguely aware of Sharif tucking the covers around them.

SHE AWOKE to semidarkness and the scents of wood-smoke and baby powder. Rain pattered on the roof while, across the room, the TV glimmered, its sound turned low.

A flash of lightning showed Sharif dozing at the dining table, his head cradled on his arms. Sleep appeared to have caught him unexpectedly.

Beside Holly, the baby murmured and nestled closer. Slowly she began sinking back into slumber.

A quickening in the TV announcer’s tone barely penetrated her consciousness until she picked out the words “body” and “woman.” The fears of the past few months returned in a flash.

Sliding from the bed, Holly hurried to the set. Cool air nipped her shoulders above the crumpled wedding gown, and the wooden floor chilled her stockinged feet.

“The victim, believed to be in her mid-twenties, was found by off-road bikers in the desert,” said the announcer. “Police haven’t released her identity.”

On the screen, paramedics loaded a blanket-covered body into an ambulance. When they tilted the stretcher, the blanket fell back to reveal a bare arm.