Read Sheikh Obsessions - A Sheikh Romance Box Set Online
Authors: Holly Rayner
“Then I will have to change your mind again, for I never cheat. I am simply talented, with a gift for winning at all things,” he said, as Beth reached for a deck of cards.
“Prove it,” she said with a giggle, opening the deck and starting to shuffle.
“I intend to,” he replied, but somehow Beth thought he wasn’t simply referring to their card game.
TWELVE
Beth
The day passed surprisingly pleasantly, considering the shadow hanging over their heads. For some time, Beth continued to glance out the windows every few seconds, keeping an eye out for Connor’s men, or anyone else that might be coming. By midafternoon, however, she was fully enjoying herself with Osman, who was really just a big kid at heart.
“You are such a cheater!” she cried, pulling at the cards in his hand in protest. He held them up and away from her, laughing.
“I am not! I’m just really good at cards, and apparently, you’re really, really bad,” he laughed, holding up an arm in defense as she grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.
“I am exceptional at cards. You are a card shark. I bet you’ve got six aces hidden in those sleeves!”
Osman snorted, flexing his very visible arms in his short-sleeved shirt.
Beth swallowed, but if Osman noticed his effect on her, he didn’t act like it.
“I may be skilled at many things, Miss Coolidge, but pulling cards from short sleeves without my opponent noticing is not one of them,” he grinned.
The afternoon passed genially, with the two of them laughing and throwing pillows back and forth when the other won a game. It was the most fun Beth had had in a long time. Still, every so often she would glance out the window, and frown when she saw nothing there.
The sun began to set, and Osman and Beth went to work preparing a pasta dish from some nonperishables. Beth found salt, dried chilies and olive oil and tossed them in with the pasta water for some flavor, before pouring canned tomatoes and olives into another saucepan. Osman disappeared for a moment, and when he returned he had a bottle of wine in his hand.
“What do you think? This is a very good wine, and we’ve had quite a stressful couple of days. Dare we indulge?”
Beth hesitated. Technically she was on the job. It didn’t feel like it, though. Right now it felt like she was cooking dinner with her boyfriend, but she shook that title right out of her head no sooner had she thought it.
Osman set the bottle on the counter and opened a drawer, pulling out a bottle opener.
“Beth, you’re not always on the clock, you know. One glass of wine isn’t going to hinder you, and besides, we have Connor’s men arriving any minute, I’m sure.”
Beth wondered if he was right. Connor had told her to sit tight, that he would have a team there soon. Granted, he was based in America now, so maybe soon did mean more than one day. She hoped not. Every minute that passed was another one that Osman’s enemies could be figuring out their location.
Beth’s thoughts were interrupted by a full wine glass being held under her nose. She took a step back, and Osman laughed.
“Beth, breathe it in. This was an amazing year,” he said, still holding out the glass.
Oh, what the hell,
Beth thought, taking the glass from him and sipping at the hearty red liquid.
Osman was right. It was delicious.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the counter, savoring the taste; the warm sensation that calmed her body as it absorbed the alcohol.
When she opened her eyes again, she found Osman staring at her with a grin.
“What?” she asked.
Osman broke his stare to pull the pasta off the stove and pour it into a colander in the sink, draining the hot water. “You just look really beautiful when you actually relax,” he said, still not looking at her as he mixed the pasta with the sauce and started scooping servings into two bowls.
Beth hoped she wasn’t blushing; if she were, at least she could blame the wine.
They sat at the table, across from one another, the candles lit once again as the house grew darker with each passing minute. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the simple meal.
“Have you spoken to your mother recently?” Osman asked suddenly.
Beth blinked in surprise. “Uh, not really. I let her know that I’d arrived and that I’d accepted the contract, but otherwise she’s been…quiet.”
“She doesn’t approve of you being here,” Osman guessed.
Beth sighed. “It’s not that she doesn’t approve, exactly. It’s more that she worries. She worried the whole time I was in the service, and I can’t say I blame her. I know the world is a scary place. I tried to make a life for myself back home, where it’s safer, but I couldn’t. Sometimes I’m just so scared that I’ve…” Beth couldn’t say it.
“Disappointed her?” Osman asked with a knowing look.
Beth nodded, gazing down.
“I know the feeling,” he said with a sigh, twisting his fork to collect a mouthful of pasta. “You can’t beat yourself up about that, though, Beth. You’re a better person than I am. She can’t possibly be disappointed in you! You sacrifice yourself for others every single day, and you have for years. That’s who you are—you give, all the time, and expect nothing in return. In fact—and forgive me for saying this—it seems that you push others away so that they can’t help you, even when you need it,” he said, and her gaze crashed into his when she looked back up.
How could he see her so clearly, maybe even better than she saw herself?
“Well,” Beth said, clearing her throat. “That’s something I’ll work at getting better at, then,” she said with a small smile, which he returned.
“I’d love it if you could do that. Because I find that I rather like treating you to the finer things in life. It’s nice to have someone to share them with.”
Beth was going to protest. She was going to say she didn’t need his pampering, when the back door blew open, and her hearing was briefly muted.
She looked up to see several men rushing through the door, and she jumped up and unsheathed a butcher’s knife.
“Stay down!” she shouted, though all she could hear in her head was a loud ringing. They must have bombed the door to get it open.
As the first guy approached, she dodged him and buried the knife in his side. His agonized cry was an echo in her muted ears. The next was the same. She took down at least four men before she realized that she was surrounded by half a dozen more.
Panting, she found herself backed into a corner, looking wildly around for Osman.
“Beth, stop!” she heard him cry.
To her horror, she saw that he was being held at gunpoint across the kitchen. She froze, lowering her knife.
One of the men approached her, ripping the weapon from her hand. He spoke in a harsh accent. “You will come with us now, or we’ll let you bleed out here. What do you choose?”
Beth glared up at the man, who was barely taller than she. Slowly, she held out her hands in submission, and they were instantly cuffed. She was dragged by the arms, back out the mangled doorway, before being tossed unceremoniously into the back of yet another unmarked black van. She was soon joined by Osman, who grunted as they tossed him in and slammed the door. They were both thrown against the back door as the engine revved and the van sped off into the night.
Beth’s gaze darted around the space for anything she could potentially use as a weapon. Her mind was blank. She cursed herself for drinking that glass of wine, but deep down she knew that had nothing to do with it. These people, whoever they were, were experts. But letting her guard down hadn’t helped.
Pushing aside her feelings of guilt and remorse, she glanced over at Osman, who was trying to force the handcuffs open. Gently, she reached over and pressed her own cuffed hands to his, and he stopped.
“Don’t do that. It will only make your cuts worse,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and Osman slumped back, defeated.
They sat in terrible silence for a while, Beth trying to focus on the turns the van was taking, but quickly losing her bearings on the winding, unknown roads.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and Osman looked at her inquisitively.
“What do you have to be sorry for? This is my fault. I’m the reason we’re here,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“It was my job to protect you. It still is my job to protect you, and I’m damn well going to do it. Once we’re out of the van, I’ll find a way to get us out of this. They have to have a weakness. I will find it,” she said, trying to sound way more reassuring than she felt.
Osman said nothing, and they continued on in silence once again.
Beth realized then that this could actually be it. She knew the kind of men they were dealing with—the kind of horrors they could inflict. She was a threat to them. She was the reason they’d failed in their previous attempt to kidnap Osman. It was very likely she would be killed first, and with so many men, she knew there was no way she could overpower them.
She looked at Osman, fighting back tears. “Osman,” she whispered, and he looked at her with surprise.
“Yes?” he asked, his gaze penetrating. She knew the use of his name would get his attention.
“If we don’t make it out of this, or if I don’t make it out of this…well. I just want you to know that I think I’m falling for you,” she said, the words rushing out of her before she could stop herself.
Osman blinked. “Falling for me?” he repeated, his expression unreadable in the darkness.
Beth gave a rueful smile. “Yeah, I do. I know it hasn’t been long, but I just get this feeling when I’m near you, like my whole body and soul is on fire. It makes absolutely no sense, but—” Beth was babbling. She stopped and stared at him, feeling helpless.
Finally, he matched her rueful grin, and leaned into her so their shoulders were touching. He tilted his head to gaze at her.
“I love you, Beth,” he breathed, his mouth mere inches from hers.
“You do?” she asked, amazed. Had that really been love at first sight, back when he’d picked her up at the airport? That seemed like a lifetime ago.
Osman chuckled. “Of course I do. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, caring woman who has saved my life twice, going on three times. You’re the full package, Beth Coolidge. I would be a fool not to love you.”
Beth smiled then, a real smile. In spite of their current circumstances, she thought at least she could die knowing that she finally knew love, however brief.
“Well then,” she said, gazing forward with a grin. It was insanity.
“There’s just one thing,” Osman said, and Beth turned back to him.
“If we get out of this alive, you’re definitely going to have to call me Osman from now on.”
Beth grinned. “I suppose I can do that,” she said, bumping her arm into his playfully.
THIRTEEN
Beth
Beth estimated that they had been driving for about two hours when they could feel the van slowing down, and finally, it came to a stop. The brief euphoria their conversation had created evaporated as they waited to be taken from the van and escorted…somewhere. The not knowing was the worst part.
“Move away from the door,” Beth advised, and she and Osman scooted as best as they could to the other side of the van before the doors were thrown open. A few of the brutes who’d captured them pulled them out roughly by the arms, but not before tying rough cloth strips around their eyes.
Beth felt the first cut of her handcuff, and hid her wince. These bastards didn’t need to see any sign of weakness.
She hadn’t gotten a chance to see where they’d been taken before being blindfolded, and she stumbled as they dragged her from the windy night air into an air-conditioned interior. Beth could feel the floor smooth out beneath her feet, which were still bare from her time relaxing at the house. Now it felt as though she was walking on tile. She heard a door creak open, and all of a sudden she was being forced down a steep staircase to what she assumed must be some kind of basement.
Her stomach twisted. The further into the belly of the beast she went, the less likely it was that she would be getting out. She steeled her nerves; she was determined to find a way out of this.
As they hit the bottom of the steps, she could hear the sound of another group, walking in a different direction.
“Osman?” she called out.
“Beth!”
His voice was moving away.
“Beth!” he cried one more time before another door slammed, and the sounds faded.
Beth glared into her dirty blindfold. They wouldn’t get away with this. Whoever it was. Her body surged with rage and adrenaline. All she needed was a weapon. The rest would be quick work.
She felt herself being shoved into a metal chair, her arms circled behind the back to keep her locked in place. The cloth around her head was preventing her from detecting any kind of light or movement in the room. She could feel her heart beating in her ears, her blood pulsing madly with fear and rage. She heard two sets of footsteps leave, then another pair enter.
She started when she felt fingers tugging gently at her blindfold, releasing it from her face. Then the man walked around from behind the chair, and Beth gasped.
It was Connor. And he was grinning.
“Hey babe,” he said, as casually as if they were just grabbing brunch.
Beth stared at him in silence, completely stunned.
Connor put up his hands. “I know, I know. Not what you expected, right?” He laughed heartily as Beth continued to stare.
The room she was trapped in was small, with gray cement walls and a small, flickering light hanging from the ceiling. The air was musty, and there was an odor that Beth couldn’t place. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“Tough first week on the job, huh? I had my work cut out for me convincing anyone that a female bodyguard could do the trick. Looks like you proved them right, eh kiddo?”
“What are you doing here?” Beth spat, finally finding her words.
Connor smiled, and Beth repressed a shiver.
“Bethie Bear! What are any of us doing in this godforsaken part of the world? Trying to get rich! All these losers have one thing that we don’t—big oil money. I don’t even mean oil like they have in Texas, Beth. Nothing compares to what they’ve got going on out here. And we deserve to take a slice of that pie, don’t you think?”
“Who are those men? Are you hiring out assassins, too?” Beth demanded.
Connor shook his head. “Actually, no. You know the bodyguards the Sheikh had before you? The ones he fired? Those were my men, too. I was pissed when he let them go. That was years of planning, down the drain. I’d had them instated into the local police force first, just to get close to him. Then I was lucky enough to plant them in his very house! We were so close to snagging him. Then he let them go as quickly as he’d hired them.” Connor frowned, like this was a personal insult. How dare Osman fire his planted kidnappers?
“Well, we couldn’t very well do it then. Billionaire who’s just fired his security team suddenly gets kidnapped? They’d have tracked us down in a heartbeat. I had to think of something else. Some other way to get my eyes on him while also earning his trust. Then he asked for a female bodyguard, and honestly Beth, I couldn’t believe my luck!”
Connor was pacing around the room now, like he was giving a presentation or something. Beth’s mind was reeling. Connor had planted her there, on purpose? But he was already rich!
“Connor, I’ve seen the kind of money you make. Why would you do something like this? The Sheikh is a wealthy man from a well-known family. There’s no way you’ll walk away from this alive. He might not be political, but his father very much was—he’s bound to have connections!”
Connor raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Instead, he shook his head at her as though she were a child, simply not understanding how the grown-up world works.
“Oh Beth, you naïve little girl. Rich kids get kidnapped all the time. You don’t hear about it because the families like to pony up a quick ten million or so and their precious little cherubs are returned, no harm done. It’s not at all unusual, and the kidnappers get away scot-free all the time. This isn’t America. Criminals aren’t tested for DNA until they’re hunted down. Money is exchanged, and the deal is done. So what do you say?”
Connor was looking at her, expecting her to answer.
Beth stared in disbelief. “What do I say about what? You being a criminal? And a liar? And a greedy son of a bitch?” she spat.
Connor laughed. “Oh, Beth, I do love your spirit! I always have, even if you never saw how great we’d be together. And boy, you really gave us a run for our money. Beating up my men at the beach and the restaurant, delaying the inevitable. I was so thrilled to get your call from the Sheikh’s safe house—instant directions to a remote location where a kidnapping would be that much easier! Seriously, Beth, you’ve earned a stake in this for your help here. I’m willing to give you a generous percentage…” Connor said, squatting down in front of her. “Then I can free you from these cuffs and set you up with a new contract,” he said.
Bile rose up Beth’s throat. She spat in his face.
“I’ll die before I help you. I’ll get the police on your tail so fast you won’t have a chance to spend a dime. They can’t all be corrupt,” Beth hissed.
Pulling a tissue from his pocket, Connor calmly wiped at his face, looking her up and down. “You look nice, all dressed up like that,” he said, making her skin crawl. “You’re not leaving me with a lot of choices here, Bethie Bee.”
Connor stared at her in silence for a few moments, presumably waiting for her to change her mind. When she continued to glare at him, he sighed again. “If you don’t agree to cooperate, Beth, things are going to get a lot more complicated here,” he said.
Through the wall Beth heard someone cry out, and realized instantly that it was Osman. Her blood boiled, and she began to struggle against her bonds, not caring how much damage it would do.
“Osman!” she screamed, her eyes wild, her strangled voice making it clear that this was no longer just business to her.
She turned back to Connor, desperate to get him to see reason. “You have to let him go. There is a sensible man in that head of yours somewhere, and I need you to find him. This is madness, Connor. You have enough money; you don’t need to do this!”
Connor stared at her, his expression cold. He glanced at the wall the Sheikh’s cries had come from, then back at Beth, and his eyes grew hard and calculating. “Poor Beth. Always falling in love on the job, aren’t we? Well. I really would have returned “His Highness” to his family unharmed, but this little turn of events changes things a bit, doesn’t it? Now he just might have to have a few pieces missing upon return, eh?”
He walked towards the door, turning to face her with nothing but hatred in his eyes. “I’ll leave you here to have some time to think about your decision, Beth. The offer is on the table for a short while longer. After that, what happens to you both will be entirely your fault.”
Connor strode out of the room then, locking the door with a resounding click.
Beth was beside herself. Connor was going to hurt Osman because he was
jealous
? She froze as she heard a door open next door, and Connor’s muted voice. He seemed to be speaking loudly for her benefit.
Beth thrashed against the chair. Finally, as her wrists began to bleed from the effort, Beth forced herself to calm down.
She stared around the room, taking in every detail. There wasn’t much to see. The room was clearly designed for one purpose: keeping people inside. There was nothing that could be used as a weapon.
Beth slumped back against the chair, her chin pressed tightly to her chest, fighting back despair. She squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them, looking down at her now filthy dress. Then she saw the sash, and remembered.
The broach
.
Tucked deeply into the bow at her back, the broach was pinned in the perfect spot for her to reach for it and unclasp it. She fought the tremble in her hands, the slickness of blood and sweat, as she painstakingly pulled the broach out from behind her back and aimed it for where she knew the keyhole to the handcuffs would be. She stabbed into the hole over and over again, trying desperately to find the right spot, until finally she heard a
click
. Pulling the handcuffs off, she rubbed her wrists, swinging her arms to get feeling in them once more.
Beth knew she had very little time. She bolted for the door, taking her pin and pressing it in the lock, desperately seeking the keyhole’s chamber to set it free as well. After a few moments, she got her second click, and carefully pushed the door open, looking out into a poorly lit hallway. It was empty. Connor was cocky enough to think he wouldn’t need a lookout.
What an idiot.
Beth tiptoed over to the adjoining door, barely able to hold herself back.
She waited until he yelled again before she pulled the door wide open and slid her leg across the floor, tripping the guard. With a swift kick to the head, he was out, and his gun was safely in her hand.
Connor turned in surprise, a burning hot iron in his grip. Beth spared a glance at Osman, who was bruised in the face and sporting a hot burn mark on his arm, but who otherwise seemed to be all in one piece.
Beth aimed the gun at Connor. “Your weapon, please,” she said, her voice cold as ice.
Connor was staring at the barrel, and she clicked the safety off, making him jump. He dropped the poker.
“You know the drill, Connor. Hands up,” she said.
Connor looked up then, slowly lifting his hands to shoulder height. “You’re making a huge mistake, Beth. We could have been together. I would have taken amazing care of you.”
Beth laughed at this. “Are you serious? You were the biggest mistake of my life! We barely dated, and I regret it even going that far,” she said, keeping her gun trained on him as she reached into his pocket and used her free hand to pull out his cell phone. Flicking it on, she dialed the police.
“The police here are corrupt, Beth. There’s no point in calling them,” Connor said, but a bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and she knew he was lying.
“I’m pretty sure we’re about to solve the problem of police corruption right now,” she said, as someone answered the phone and she informed them that she and Osman were being held hostage by a group of corrupt officers.
“Do you know your location, miss?” an accented voice asked.
“I don’t,” Beth answered.
“We can track this call, please just stay on the line.”
Beth, Connor and Osman waited in a frozen tableau until shots could be heard from somewhere above them.