A Golden Betrayal Read online

Page 16


  She felt as if a dagger had just stabbed its way into her heart. “No.”

  “Yes. And I know you love me. You don’t have to say it for it to be true.”

  She swallowed, and a tear dropped from her lash, dampening her cheek. “I do love you, Raif.”

  His arms circled her, pulling her tight against him. “I’ll never forget you.”

  “Nor I you.” She would love him forever. The pain from her broken heart would never go away.

  He kissed her then, a long, soulful kiss, one that was painfully, clearly goodbye. It made her throat ache and her chest burn. Too soon, he broke it off.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” she whispered.

  “We’ll keep looking. I’ll— Tariq will keep you posted. If we find them, you’ll hear about it.”

  “I’d appreciate that.” Resting her hands against his chest for a final moment, she forced herself to take a step back.

  His expression was haunted as he dropped his arms to his side. “Ann.”

  “You have your duty,” she managed to say. “Maybe if I wasn’t so blue-eyed, promiscuous, old and American—”

  “You’re not old. And I love your blue eyes.”

  “But it can never be.”

  He stared at her in silence. “It can never be.”

  She leaned down and lifted her suitcase. “You are an amazing man, Raif Khouri. Rayas is lucky to have you as their king.”

  Before he could respond, she turned away, groping for the doorknob, opening the heavy door to find Tariq standing guard.

  “Can you get me a car?” she asked in a choked voice, as she walked blindly passed.

  “Of course.” Tariq fell into step. “We will take you home safely, Ann.”

  * * *

  In Raif’s office in Valhan Palace, Kalila sat across the desk, her head bent, her eyes downcast, face mostly screened by the black lace headscarf draped over her dark hair. As angry as he had been with her last night, Raif hated to see her like this. She was an intelligent, vibrant and spirited woman. He hated that he’d been an instrument of her defeat.

  “I am ready,” she told him, raising her chin, expression calm, eyes fixed forward.

  “To be first in line for the throne?” he asked.

  She shook her head, then stopped herself. “Yes. I am ready for that. But I am also ready to do my duty.” She took what appeared to be a bracing breath. “I will marry Ari.”

  “That’s good news,” said Raif. “For me. For Rayas.”

  “Yes,” Kalila agreed.

  “Not so good for you.”

  She didn’t respond. Though her eyes took on a suspicious sheen.

  “And not so good for the Marquess of Vendich,” Raif finished.

  Her jaw dropped open. “How did you...”

  “He came to me.”

  Kalila’s hands tightened together in her lap. “He promised he would not.”

  “I guess he lied. He came to me last night.”

  Her head jerked up. “What?”

  “He helped us rescue you.”

  “He is here?”

  “He is here,” Raif confirmed.

  Kalila glanced behind her, and for a second Raif expected her to bolt for the door in search of Niles.

  “I am sorry,” she said instead, turning back to Raif, her shoulders slumping. “He should not have done that.”

  “He asked for your hand in marriage. Or rather, he demanded your hand in marriage.”

  “He is determined,” Kalila agreed.

  “He said you loved him.”

  She met Raif’s gaze head on. “I do love him.”

  “But you will marry Ari instead.”

  It took a split second for Kalila’s nod to begin. “I know my duty.”

  “And I know mine.” Raif rose, moving around the desk, sitting in the chair that was twin to Kalila’s. “My duty, cousin, is to take care of you and all other Rayasians.”

  She nodded her agreement.

  “How shall I take care of you?” he asked softly.

  She seemed confused by the question.

  “Shall I marry you off to a man twice your age? Make you miserable? Force you to sacrifice your life for the good of your country?”

  Her brow furrowed.

  “Or shall I care for you by ensuring your happiness?”

  “Your Majesty?” Her voice was choked.

  “You can marry the Marquess of Vendich, Kalila. I give you my permission as king.”

  It seemed to take a moment for his words to penetrate. But they did, and tears spilled from her eyes, and Raif felt his chest swell with joy.

  “Thank you.” She hesitated for a split second, but then she rushed to him, wrapping her arms around him in gratitude.

  Raif hugged her back, her tears dampening his cheek.

  “Don’t be too grateful,” he warned gruffly. “Vendich threatened to make my life miserable in order to get you. This is partly self-preservation. And an alliance with the British is even better for Rayas than an alliance with Algeria.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she cried, pulling back. “Nothing matters. You are the most marvelous cousin, and the very best king.”

  “Tariq?” Raif called over his shoulder.

  The office door opened, revealing Vendich.

  Kalila squealed with joy, launching herself from Raif to dash across the room.

  Niles wrapped her tightly in his arms. His gaze met Raif’s in a moment of gratitude and shared understanding, but then his attention was all for Kalila.

  As the two left the room, arm in arm, Tariq entered.

  “A royal wedding,” he observed. “It will be a boost to your subjects.”

  “It will,” Raif agreed, though Kalila’s happiness was more important to him.

  “Takes the pressure off you for the moment,” said Tariq.

  Raif shot his cousin a questioning glance.

  “Kalila has bought you some time. But your subjects will want a queen. And you will need heirs.” As always, Tariq was blunt. “Shall I start a list?”

  Raif had to stop himself from shouting no. He didn’t want a queen. He wanted Ann. But he couldn’t have Ann. And especially in the light of Kalila’s offer to sacrifice herself, Raif refused to give in to self-pity.

  “Start a list,” he told Tariq.

  * * *

  “Your Majesty,” called a female voice in the wide palace hall.

  Tariq and Raif both turned in surprise at the breach of protocol.

  “She is awake,” called the bustling female servant.

  “Who is awake?” asked Raif.

  “The European woman from the docks. I believe she’s speaking English.”

  Raif and Tariq glanced at each other. A non-Rayasian woman had been rescued two nights ago along with Ann and Kalila. She’d been hit on the head, and the doctor had been monitoring her in a guest chamber at the palace ever since.

  “Take us to her,” said Raif, and the two men followed the servant down one floor and through the garden.

  The young blond woman was pale against the white sheets, her chest rising and falling as she breathed, eyes fearful.

  “Do you speak English?” Raif asked. “Français? Español?”

  “English,” she choked out.

  “Do you remember the rescue?” asked Tariq.

  She nodded shakily.

  “You’re safe now,” he told her. “You’re in the palace.”

  “I want to go home.” Her accent didn’t sound British.

  “What’s your name?” asked Raif.

  “Roxanne Darling. Please let me go home.”

  “Of course we’ll get you home, Roxanne,” said Raif. “Where is home?”

  “New York City.”

  Raif felt a stirring of unease, as his instincts came on alert. “You’re an American?”

  “Yes.”

  “And were being held in Rayas?”

  “Yes.”

  Could it possibly be a coincidence? Raif still did
n’t believe in them. “Do you happen to know Ann Richardson?”

  “My sister Kendra works for her.”

  “And what were you doing in my country?” Raif’s instincts went into full on warning mode.

  Her face screwed up in obvious frustration. “I was kidnapped.”

  “I mean before you were kidnapped. Why did you come to Rayas?”

  “I was brought to Rayas by my kidnappers.”

  Raif and Tariq were shocked to silence. Roxanne’s kidnapping had to be connected to the Gold Heart theft.

  Something creaked in the corner, and Raif glanced up. There was a small, subtle movement in the wall.

  Tariq saw it, too, and moved like a flash. He flung open the secret door, snagging someone on the other side.

  The scuffle was brief, and then he dragged a man into the room.

  The woman in the bed cringed in fear, cowering as if she expected to be hit.

  Raif gaped in astonishment at his uncle, Prince Mallik.

  Mallik’s gaze on Roxanne was pure poison.

  Raif’s stomach clenched in absolute fury. He turned back to Roxanne, controlling the urge to go after his uncle and demand answers. “Is that one of the men who kidnapped you?”

  Roxanne nodded mutely. Her voice was a raspy whisper. “He was in the basement when I arrived. They were blackmailing my sister Kendra. They told her they would kill me if she didn’t give them information.”

  Raif’s pulse was escalating from anger to fury.

  It was his uncle? His own uncle had been mixed up in this mess all along? He didn’t understand how the pieces fit together, but he knew he would get answers. He would not rest until he got answers.

  Blackmailing Roxanne’s sister Kendra had to be at the core of the plan to hurt Ann and Waverly’s.

  He extracted his cell phone and handed it to Roxanne. “Call your sister. Tell her you’re safe. Tell her we’re bringing you home.”

  * * *

  When Ann walked into the office after a lengthy meeting with the board, Kendra was bent over her desk, talking on the telephone. Tears were streaming down her face. She wiped her nose, blowing noisily into a tissue.

  “Yes,” she said shakily into the receiver. “I understand. I’ll be there. I love you so much, Roxy. Goodbye.”

  It was bad news. It had to be bad news about her sister. Whatever the details, Ann’s heart went out to Kendra. She felt her own eyes tear up in sympathy.

  Kendra’s hand shook as she replaced the receiver, and she sobbed a fresh round of tears.

  “Kendra?” Ann said, obviously startling her.

  Kendra swiveled in her chair.

  Ann quickly approached. “Is it Roxanne? Is she worse?”

  Kendra gave a bit of a hysterical laugh, covering her mouth with her hand, the tears continuing to stream down her face.

  Ann’s only thought was that Roxanne must be fatally ill. She crouched down, putting her hand on Kendra’s arm.

  “What can I do? How can I help?”

  Kendra shook her head. “It’s okay. It’s good news. She’s been freed.”

  “She’s not sick anymore?”

  Kendra shook her head more vigorously. “She was never sick. I’m so sorry, Ann. I lied to you.” Kendra’s face crumpled. “I lied to all of you.”

  “You lied about your sister?” Ann was growing confused. What would be the point of lying? It wasn’t as though Kendra had asked for money or anything.

  “She was kidnapped,” said Kendra, bitterness strengthening her voice. “Months ago. They kidnapped her, and Dalton Rothschild has been blackmailing me ever since.”

  Ann’s blood ran completely cold. She could barely force out the question. “Blackmailing you for what?”

  “Information. On Waverly’s. And especially on the Gold Heart statue.”

  “You’ve been spying on us?” Ann was forced to steady herself on the back of Kendra’s chair. All this time, with everything Waverley’s and Ann herself had been going through, Kendra had been operating against them?

  Kendra’s expression crumpled. “They were going to kill her.”

  Ann could see Kendra’s genuine fear. And after what she and Kalila had been through, she knew Roxanne had been in true danger.

  “Where is she?” Ann asked in worry. “Is she safe?”

  “She’s in Rayas.”

  For a second, Ann thought she might faint. She slumped down, sitting full on the floor, her mind galloping.

  The night at the docks. It all flooded back to her. She’d thought she was hallucinating. She wasn’t. But she hadn’t seen Kendra. She’d seen Roxanne.

  She should have done something. She should have asked questions right then and there.

  Kendra interrupted her thoughts. “Someone named Tariq is bringing her home on a private jet.”

  Ann shook herself back to the present. This was no time for self-recrimination. Tariq was coming to New York. Did he have some answers? Did Dalton know he was caught? Would he try to run? Or would he hurt someone in a last-ditch attempt to cover things up?

  Ann fumbled for her phone.

  She scanned her call history until she found Heidi Shaw’s number. She pressed the call button and let it ring.

  While she waited, she reached up to squeeze Kendra’s hand. “Tariq will take good care of Roxanne.”

  Kendra swallowed.

  “Agent Shaw,” came the greeting.

  “Heidi? It’s Ann Richardson. I think I need your help. Do you still want to make an arrest in our big, international case?”

  Eleven

  Prince Mallik’s interrogation went quickly. The old man’s hostility was no match for Jordan’s training.

  It turned out Dalton had heard back-channel rumors of Roark’s Gold Heart discovery. Taking advantage of the information, he’d concocted the plot to hurt Ann and sink Waverly’s in one fell swoop. Before Roark had time to announce his find, Dalton had contacted Prince Mallik, playing on the old man’s greed and bitterness, convincing him the statue’s theft would discredit Raif and bring bad luck to the Khouri family.

  Once Mallik had implicated Roark, Ann and Waverly’s were caught up in the growing scandal. Kendra’s information had ensured Dalton made all the right moves to sink Waverly’s. While in Rayas, the ensuing scandal and chaos provided an opening for Mallik to take power when King Safwah died.

  After the interrogation, Raif took steps to keep his uncle’s involvement under wraps, and Prince Mallik was quickly banished to a remote estate in the north of Rayas, to be held under guard for the rest of his life. A large sum was settled on Roxanne and Kendra in restitution.

  Stateside, Agent Heidi Shaw had been pivotal in the arrest and interrogation of Dalton. The Gold Heart statue was recovered from one of the secret tunnels in Valhan Palace. Mallik had hidden it there from the beginning, moving it when Ann arrived at the palace, and setting off the internal alarm.

  The Gold Heart now sat in its glass dome in the great foyer of Valhan Palace, in place for Raif’s coronation. Wearing the robes and jewels of his ancestors, he wound his way past the statue and into the grand hall.

  There, statesmen and dignitaries from all around the world looked on. Family, friends and well-wishers bowed their heads as he passed. He was about to step into the role he’d been trained for from birth. But through it all, his thoughts strayed to Ann.

  He wanted her here by his side. He wanted her comfort and her counsel. He wanted to fight with her, joke with her and make love with her.

  But instead of the love of his life, he had Tariq’s list of fifty perfectly acceptable young Rayasian women back on his desk. He needed to consider them. But he couldn’t even bring himself to read it.

  His one consolation was that Kalila was happy. She would now need to take a larger role in the country’s governance. To his credit, Niles understood her duty and was ready to support her.

  For the coronation, Kalila sat at the far end of the hall, on the smaller of two thrones. She was next to the chancell
or who would preside over the ancient ceremony.

  Raif had Tariq at the head of his honor guard. And he also had Niles in the ceremony. Soon to be the newest member of the royal family, Niles was already proving himself an adroit diplomat. At least Kalila had good taste in her choice of husband.

  Perhaps she could help Raif choose a wife.

  The minute the thought formed, Raif’s entire body rebelled.

  As he came to a stop in front of the chancellor, he couldn’t help glancing at Jacx, who had finally agreed to become an admiral. He remembered the fateful day when Jacx had stepped up to marry Princess Salima.

  A crazy thought formed in Raif’s head. What would happen if he pulled a “Daud” and backed out of the coronation ceremony? He could do as Daud had done, tell the chancellor that he was sorry, but he loved another, and he couldn’t be king.

  How would Kalila and Niles feel about reigning in his stead?

  He looked to his cousin.

  Her smile was serene. She was absolutely in love with Niles, and the two were going to be very happy together. Raif couldn’t do anything to disrupt that. And he couldn’t disrupt Rayas. His people had been through enough.

  The chancellor began the ceremony, and Raif stood at rapt attention.

  * * *

  Though the Rayasian coronation hadn’t been covered by any of the major Western news channels, Ann was able to find a video of it posted to the internet the next day. She maximized the screen, squinting to watch Raif in the distance. The video was eighteen hours old, but it was surreal seeing him walk the length of the grand hall, taking his vows, sitting on his throne, the crown being held over his head.

  A knock sounded on her apartment door.

  Ann froze the screen, padding across the carpet in her bare feet. It was Saturday morning. She was still dressed in her Rangers T-shirt and plaid boxer shorts. She hadn’t showered and was seriously considering the pint of Häagen-Dazs buried in her apartment freezer.

  As Ann had guessed, it was Darby at her door.

  “Did you find it?” Darby asked. She was freshly showered, dressed in blue jeans, a pink tank top and a pair of sneakers. Her damp hair was pulled back in a perky ponytail.

  “I did,” said Ann. “It’s not very good, but he’s there.” She clicked the mouse, bringing the video back to life, sitting down while Darby stood behind her.