Harlequin Presents January 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Sheikh's Desert Duty\Nine Months to Redeem Him\Fonseca's Fury\The Russian's Ultimatum (16 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Z
AYN
CALLED
HIMSELF
a hundred kinds of
fool after Sophie left. He poured himself a drink, intent on washing away the
pain in his lungs, the pain in his chest. That he feared he would not be able
to.

He would have to call Leila, he would have to call his mother.
He would have to warn them what was about to happen. And worse, he would have to
admit his fault in it. This was his doing, as it had been when Jasmine had died.
He did this, he exposed them to these sorts of things, because of who he
trusted.

“No.” He spoke the words out loud to the room, as if that would
make them magically be true. As if it would make Sophie the woman he had
believed her to be, and not the woman she had proven herself to be.

He could not believe she had betrayed him. Not really.

She had asked him to want more for himself, more than a
marriage that was simply for his country. She had made him believe he might find
that. With her.

This was why he shouldn't want more. Because the moment he
did...the moment he did, he ruined everything.

He had brought her into his home, he had given her the tools
she needed to destroy them.

But why? He still didn't know why. Didn't know what Isabelle
needed, or why Sophie had felt compelled to do this. And he needed answers,
dammit. He
needed
them.

He took another drink. And his chest burned, but not from the
alcohol.

What was it that she had said to him? That duty without love
was empty. Well, his actions had certainly proven empty in the end where she was
concerned. And he had thought...he had felt things for her. He had given up so
much for her.

And though he wanted to lock her in a dungeon for what she'd
done...he could not wholly regret the change in himself.

Yes, Sophie had turned out to be false, but she had also given
him hope, hope in something that had turned out to be a lie, but he wondered now
what was possible. And he feared it was too late to turn back.

Too late to want less.

“Damn you, Sophie,” he said. How could she have done this? Made
him believe. Made him love.

And yet...had she really betrayed him? He couldn't imagine it.
He couldn't fathom that—the woman he'd held in the tent, the woman he'd kissed
in the rain, the woman who'd told him it wasn't his fault. That he was more than
the tragedy he'd always blamed on himself.

There was no reason for her to do those things. None at all.
And there was a part of him that couldn't believe she'd done it for a story. It
wasn't her. It couldn't be.

He picked up his phone and dialed her number. It went straight
to voice mail, unsurprising, really, since she was likely to still be flying. He
hung up, his mind racing. He had doubts. And he had to know. He had to know for
sure.

Colin Fairfax. That was who he needed on the line. Colin
Fairfax was responsible for this, and he would answer for it.

He pressed the intercom. “Connect me to Colin Fairfax.
New
York Herald.
”

In a few moments, the phone was ringing, and a man answered.
“Fairfax.”

“I need to speak with you about Sophie,” he said.

“Who is this?” Fairfax asked, his voice sounding concerned.

“Do I need an introduction?” Zayn asked. “I should have thought
you would expect a call from me.”

“Sheikh Al-Ahmar.” And now his voice had crossed over into
terrified. “I mailed Sophie the tape already. As promised. And whatever she does
with it after is not my business. She said she'd destroy it, that's the deal.
But she's the person you want to deal with. Not me.”

Zayn's mind was racing, trying to piece together what Fairfax
was saying, unwilling to look like he wasn't in the know. “What else might
Sophie do with it?” he asked, thinking this line of questioning might be best to
find out what he needed.

“Sell it to another media company. But I'd sue the hell out of
her for it. Anyway, that wasn't what she wanted. She said she wanted the tape
destroyed, and in exchange she told me the thing about Leila. But the story
about the pregnancy was already broken. It's not slander to fill in the
details.”

“I don't want to sue you,” Zayn growled. “I want to tear your
limbs from your body. But it will have to wait.”

“Sheikh...”

“You have lost your chance to apologize. Or explain. Be very
hopeful that I do not change my mind about acting on my desires.”

He hung up the phone, trying to sort through the implications
of what Fairfax had just let slip. There was a tape. It pertained to him. Sophie
had made a deal so she could destroy it, and that was why she had told him about
Leila.

Heart pounding, he stood and was walking out of his study
before he even realized what he was doing.

She had not betrayed him. Sophie had not betrayed him. He had
known it, deep in his soul he had known it.

But he had sent her away. In a rage. He had said he would not
see her again, and with Jasmine, those words had been prophetic.

Terror, anger, pain, gripped his stomach. Echoes from the past
tearing through him.

He had to go to her now.

Because he had already lost one person he loved with nothing
but venom hanging between them when she'd breathed her last.

He would be damned if that happened again.

* * *

She hadn't thought to bargain for her job. Oh, well, you
couldn't have everything. Sophie ran across the street, and made it onto the
last block that she had to walk to get to her apartment, her arms aching from
holding the box that contained all of her possessions. Well, not all of her
possessions, just all of the possessions that had been in her desk—her shared
desk—at the
Herald
.

Colin was playing hardball. Which, he said, a person like her
should appreciate. Too bad she wasn't the kind of person he thought she was. Too
bad she was just heartbroken.

She imagined that wedding coverage would start soon. She needed
to find a very fluffy blanket to hide under until it all passed. She imagined
not even a fluffy blanket would be able to insulate her from that kind of pain.
But she couldn't watch Zayn pledge himself to another woman.

Christine would fall in love with him, that was a certainty.
Because how could she not?

“But I loved him first.” She said the words angrily, defiantly,
as she continued to walk down the street.

She was the one who had known he wasn't just stone. She was the
one who knew he was flesh and blood. A beating heart.

There was someone standing in front of her building, a tall
man, dressed in a suit. She slowed her walk, her eyes pinned to him. His posture
was familiar, the way he stood was familiar, everything about him was familiar.
But that was impossible. It couldn't be him. He wouldn't be here.

He lifted his head, and his eyes locked with hers, and even at
this distance, she knew. She stopped, and the box slipped from her fingertips,
falling to the sidewalk. A little ladybug planter that had been inside popped
out the top of the box and landed on its back on the cement. She looked at it
for a moment, but only a moment. Then her eyes went back to the man who was now
walking toward her.

“Zayn?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“I thought you said we were never going to speak again.” He had
said they wouldn't see each other. He had said they wouldn't speak. Oh, how she
had needed him to keep that promise. Because she couldn't look at him again, not
without having her heart torn to pieces. And it had already been torn to pieces,
barely smashed back together on the flight home, just in the interest of keeping
her breathing, and now he was going to destroy it again.

“That was before I realized I had unanswered questions. And I
will do what I must to have them all answered.”

“I don't think I can answer all of your questions.”

“You're going to. I'm going to start now. Who is Isabelle
Harrington to you? Why did you need this scandal for her? What was so important
that you came from New York to Surhaadi on the promise of a stranger?”

There was no harm in saying so now. Or maybe there was. Or
maybe there had never been. She couldn't tell anymore. All she knew was that she
was tired, tired of dishonesty. Tired of the dull pain in her chest. Tired of
how unfair life was.

“Isabelle was the only person who made friends with me when I
went to college. She didn't mind that I was younger, she didn't mind that I had
come from nothing, that my family name wasn't important. She got me my job at
the
Herald
—I lost that today, by the way—and she needed me.”

“Why?”

“Because I made my boss mad.”

“No, why did Isabelle need you? Why does it require you to get
a scandal attached to the Chatsfield name. Because that's why you did this,
isn't it? I need to know.”

“Yes, I did it for her. Spencer...Spencer Chatsfield. He's
harassing her about buying The Harrington, right out from under her. The hotel
is everything to her. And if you knew what Spencer had done to her...Spencer
hurt her. Badly. And now he wants to take this from her, too. I swore I wouldn't
let it happen. I swore to her I would help her with the tools I had, the tools
that she gave to me. My job. You can understand why I needed to do this. Why I
would go with you, why I would skulk around in an alley. Because I needed to.
Because I owe Isabelle so much.”

He nodded gravely, and closed the distance between them,
tugging her into his arms and kissing her hard, deep on the mouth. She tangled
her fingers in his hair and kissed him back, her foot brushing the ladybug
planter to the side as she moved in closer.

When they parted, she blinked, breathing hard. “Why would you
do that?”

“A scandal is going to hit the paper today. I am sorry if it
adversely affects your friend, but I cannot be sorry if it varies the headline
about my sister.”

“What have you done, Zayn?”

“I'm going to make an announcement later today that my wedding
has been canceled.”

“You canceled your wedding? Permanently...or is this just a way
for you to protect Leila?”

“It is certainly a pleasant side effect. But I actually called
off the wedding some days ago. Just before you left. Before we last spoke.”

“What?” she asked, her lips numb, her fingers icy. “You did
what?”

“I called off the wedding.”

“I'm glad,” she said, reaching to pick up the box from the
pavement. Standing up, she stiffened her spine, looking straight ahead, her
heart hammering, fingers stiff around the edges of the box. “Because you deserve
better than that. You do. You deserve so much more than a loveless marriage. You
both do.”

“You were right about that,” he said, his voice rough. “I was
punishing myself, using Christine as...part of that. It was unfair of me. And
you were brave. You asked for everything from life. While I was still protecting
myself. Still paying penance for the sins of my past. I was going to make
everyone else pay with me. I was going to make Christine pay. I was going to
bind us both to an unhappy union. I realized that I could not do that. Not to
her. Not to me.”

“But that doesn't explain why you kissed me. I thought you
hated me. For what I had done.”

“You did it for a friend. You did it to protect someone you
love. Part of me knew it had to be something like this. Because I know you. I
know you didn't just do it to hurt me, or to further your career. I know you
didn't do it lightly. I knew the woman that I love wouldn't do something like
that.”

“You...you love me?”

“Yes. In spite of myself. In spite of all this. I do. And it
makes me want. It makes me want things I didn't think I ever would. It makes me
want more. More than an endless, blank desert of life stretching out before me.
It makes me want color. Laughter. It makes me want you.”

“I can't believe you ended your engagement for me...
I...I...”

“Sophie, I have to tell you...I called Colin Fairfax. He
mentioned a trade. A tape. I know you didn't do this simply to get a scandal. I
know there was more. And it isn't only because of what he said, but because I
knew in my gut, in my heart, that you were the woman I fell for out in the
desert. I knew that was truly who you were and I think I would have come for you
no matter what.”

“Really?”

“I have a bad habit of kidnapping you.”

She laughed, a sniffly, watery sound.

“Sophie....what was the tape? I need to know.”

She wanted to protect him from this. Didn't want to do anything
to destroy the moment, but she owed him honesty. Because she refused to hide
herself from him. Refused to hide anything from him.

“I feel like...I do need to tell you this,” she said, the words
coming out slowly. “Because I want you to know something. Because I want you to
understand that as much as I love Isabelle...I wouldn't have told about Leila
and James if I didn't have to. Because I love you, Zayn. I love you more than
anything or anyone. I would have chosen you. I would have chosen your family.
It's more than just a trade, it's all of that. And since you know about the
recording...I need you to know that.”

She took a shaky breath and continued. “My boss called after I
got back to my room and told me he had a recording. He says he got it from
Damien's father. He...he played some of it for me. It's a recording of you. Of
your last altercation with Jasmine. He was going to release it, and I offered
him a trade. And to ensure he kept his word...I sort of blackmailed him and
threatened to tell his wife he's been cheating. Well, and then he fired me. But
the thing is, I didn't want you to know about the tape. I don't want you to ever
hear it. I didn't want it...I didn't want it out there. Because you have to
understand that no matter how sad it is that your last moment with your sister
was a bad one, you didn't force her to make the decision she did. We all make
our own choices. I made this one. To protect you. And I sort of sacrificed Leila
to do it, and I know you never would have. But that was my choice. You. Always
you.”