YazminaLion Are (3 page)

“That bad, huh?” Jackson sounded worried.

“Nah. I met a pretty girl.”

“Son of a bitch.” Jackson chuckled. “When did you have the chance to score?”

“In the clinic.”

“Damn. I’ll see you in Canberra then.”

“Say hi to Cole for me.”

“Your cousin won’t be happy if you take too many days off. We have the governor’s building project to finish.”

“Tell Cole I found my mate. He’ll understand.”

“The girl, you mean?”

“Mate,” Arcan repeated. “She’s more special than just a girl.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand you, pal. Whatever. I’ll see you then.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Arcan hung up. He and his cousin Cole had started a joint venture in a construction company in Canberra a few years ago. The business was booming and had become a full-time job. Because he and Cole were part of the K’stal pride, they had to split their time between Canberra and their pride home in the Serengeti. Therefore, they’d brought Jackson in to manage the company in their absence.

Yazmina peeked her head around the bathroom door and shyly stepped outside. She smiled. Arcan had forgotten how breathtaking she was. Her raven hair was combed smooth and fell like black silk down her back. She looked fresh and calm. Arcan had bought her a few blouses and matching pants, and the clothes she wore fit perfectly on her luscious body. And it seemed the shoes he’d picked for her were the right size. As an added precaution, he’d also purchased a scarf and sunglasses for a disguise.

He couldn’t get enough of watching her. He could get lost in those gorgeous eyes of hers. “You’re beautiful.”

She blushed prettily.

“Ready for a late dinner?”

Yazmina nodded. “Quite frankly, I’m starving.”

“Good. I’m so hungry I could eat a cow.”

She looked puzzled. “Beef, you mean?”

“That’s just an expression.” Arcan got up from the bed. “Let’s go.”

They went to the hotel’s in-house restaurant on the second floor and picked a corner booth for privacy. “So, you want to tell me your whole story?” Arcan asked after the waiter took their orders.

She hesitated at first. “There’s not much to tell. I ran away because my father arranged a marriage for me.”

“Did your mother agree with your father in this?”

“My mother died when I was born. I was told it was a complicated childbirth. I never knew her. I only remember her from family photos.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He took her hand and squeezed it.

Her face reddened, but she didn’t pull her hand away. Arcan held it a little longer. It was soft, a princess’s hand that never had to do hard labor. The more he examined her, the more she reminded him of a lost little lamb. What was she doing in a world full of hungry wolves?

“Tell me about your family. Do you have siblings?”

“Well, I have three older brothers. They studied in California and Cambridge. My father is a wealthy merchant, and he loves horses.”

“And why did he arrange for you to marry some man you don’t love? Was it for a political favor?”

“Political favor? Hardly. My father was indebted to a Bedouin chief.”

“I thought your father was wealthy.”

“He is. It wasn’t a material favor my father was indebted with. It was a boon. See, my father loves horses. Several years ago, he wanted to buy Chief Jabbur’s prized stallion, but the chief didn’t want to sell it. They worked out an arrangement instead. The chief gave my father the stallion in exchange for a favor. About six months ago, the chief called in the favor. He wanted me as his wife.”

“What?” Arcan’s voice was a decibel higher than he intended. Luckily, there weren’t many people in the restaurant. He furrowed his eyebrows. “You were traded for a horse?”

“Actually, a stallion. Lightning has won many races and brought fortune to my father.”

“That is still fucking wrong on so many levels! How could your father do that to you?”

“My father is a man of principle.”

“Yeah, but a horse? So he just gave you away without objection?”

Yazmina lowered her gaze, and her eyes turned somber. “I’m only a daughter, not one of his precious sons. I don’t have the same privileges as my brothers.”

“That’s bullshit!” A knot of anger swelled in Arcan’s throat. “What about your family in New York? Do they know about this arranged marriage?”

“They are my uncle and aunt from my mother’s side of the family. Yes, they know and they’re willing to help me. At least that’s what Cousin Fatima told me.”

“You’re not a-hundred-percent sure?”

She went fidgety. “I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“Is there a guarantee that your father won’t take you from them?”

“I’ll be safe once I arrive there.”

“But are you absolutely sure?”

Yazmina stared back at him with a pained look. “No. I don’t know. I’ve never met them.”

Arcan frowned. If it were up to him, he’d gladly spirit her away to the pride’s home in the Serengeti, make her his, and keep her safe from her father’s madness. He still couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He thought an arranged marriage was ridiculously passé in this day and age. But trading his lovely daughter for a horse? A fucking horse! That was an atrocity no father should ever commit against his own child.

The waiter came with their food and they ate in silence. Arcan watched her closely, assessing the situation. He wanted her. Badly. But judging from what he’d seen so far, he was convinced Yazmina was a virgin. Which made this matter more complicated. He couldn’t seduce her the way he seduced more experienced women.

However, he could court her once she was safely in New York. His mother came from Rhode Island before she met a K’stal shifter—his father—on a vacation in Tanzania. His extended family lived in Brooklyn. Maybe he could take three months off work and focus on wooing Yazmina once the dust had settled.

“Thank you for the food,” Yazmina said after the waiter cleared their table. “And thank you for your help. I don’t know what I’d do if I was still on the ship. Who knows what the captain might have done to me.”

“Lock you in a lion’s cage?” Arcan teased.

She smiled. “I thought I was going to die. I was so scared.”

“Are you still scared of me?”

She shook her head delicately.

“I have big sharp teeth. And claws.”

She giggled. Her voice sounded like music to his ears. Then she looked at him wide-eyed. “I think our encounter is fate,” she said. “God sent you to help me.”

“I also believe in fate.” But he believed for other reasons. She was sent to him as his mate—the woman he’d claim and who would be with him forever. “And you can always count on me.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Arcan.”

God, she was so luscious. Everything about her screamed “eat me.” The lost little lamb had wandered into a lion’s den. How could a beastly man like him not be tempted to claim her? Blood stirred in his loins. Arcan was tempted to reach across the table and kiss her until she fainted. But he couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to scare her. Besides, he wasn’t sure if such a public display of affection was allowed in Dubai.

Jesus, he needed a cold shower.

Quickly, he shook the dirty thoughts away. “I talked to my alpha while you were in the bathroom—”

“Alpha?”

“Alpha—the leader of our pride.”

“Oh, I get it. ‘Pride’ since you’re a lion. ‘Pack’ if you were a wolf.”

“Right. Werewolves.”

“They’re real?”

“Of course. Now, my alpha—Cyeon—suggested that we go to the American embassy to seek asylum for you.”

“Asylum?”

“Let’s say your well-being is threatened and you’re worried about your safety. You can seek asylum as a political refugee.”

“But I haven’t been involved in any political situation.”

“I’d say the way your father traded you for a horse is nothing but a political maneuver for personal gain.”

“I see.”

“It’s a long shot but worth the try.”

“I don’t know, Arcan.” Yazmina cast her gaze on the glass in front of her. “The American ambassador for the UAE, Mr. Blackwell, knows my father personally. They play golf once a month.”

Shit. This can’t be good
. “I don’t think Blackwell will mix business and personal matters,” he reasoned. “There’s too much at stake. He could be persona non grata.”

She didn’t seem convinced. “My father is a first cousin to the royal prince. Here, people value the bond of brotherhood seriously. If my father complains to the royal prince, the royal prince could put pressure on Ambassador Blackwell. I don’t think the ambassador will take a chance that will strain diplomatic relations.”

Damn.
The only viable option now was to smuggle her onto a charter jet or something. “I’m still going to make a call to the embassy to find out our options. And I have to call my alpha.” Arcan groped in his pocket and realized that he’d left his cell in the room. “I need to get my phone. I’ll be back. Why don’t you order some dessert in the meantime?”

Her pretty eyes widened. “May I order some ice cream?”

“Sure. I’ll be back in a sec, okay?”

She smiled.

Arcan went to his hotel room, where he found his new cell phone on the table. As he dialed the operator for the American consulate phone number, someone knocked on the door. He pushed cancel and answered it.

There were uniformed men with the hotel manager. Arcan was alarmed. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“Mr. Rarh?” the hotel manager asked. “Excuse us for bothering you at this hour, but these gentlemen have some questions to ask you.”

“Okay. What’s it all about?”

“May we come in?” one of the uniformed men stated. It wasn’t a request. It was an order, from the tone of his voice.

Arcan stared at him evenly. The Arab man stared back as if asking Arcan to challenge him. Arcan smirked. He didn’t want to give the guy the satisfaction of a pissing contest. And certainly he didn’t want to raise suspicions with the authorities.

“Go ahead,” Arcan said, stepping back to give them access. Silently, he was glad that he’d put Yazmina’s things out of sight. He’d dropped Yazmina’s dirty clothes in the laundry service, and the new clothes that he’d just bought were tucked underneath his shirts in his suitcase. Nothing in this room would betray that he had a female companion.

The two uniformed men promptly searched the suite. His bedroom. The bathroom. The closet and the enclosed balcony. When they didn’t find anything, their expressions changed. Awkward.

“Find what you’re looking for?” Arcan asked cynically.

The hotel manager quickly apologized. “I’m deeply sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Rarh, but these gentlemen are simply doing their job. They received information that someone saw you enter your room with a female companion.”

“I wasn’t aware that I couldn’t bring a girl into my room.”

“It’s not that, Mr. Rarh. The female companion aforementioned matched the description of Sheikh Al-Rahad’s missing daughter.”

“What?” Arcan pretended to be surprised. “Whose daughter?”

“Sheikh Al-Rahad.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Ah. Sheikh Al-Rahad is a very important man. He’s first cousin to the royal prince. His daughter, Yazmina Al-Rahad, has been reported missing since yesterday. At the moment, the authorities are conducting a massive search for her whereabouts.”

Crap.
Arcan thought of Yazmina, who was currently enjoying ice cream in the restaurant downstairs. He hoped he could get to her before anybody else recognized her. Arcan gave the hotel manager a blank look and asked innocently, “What does she look like?”

The hotel manager conversed in Arabic with the uniformed men. One of them produced an eight-by-ten photo. Arcan craned his neck and looked. The photo showed a woman in a hijab, a head-covering shawl that hid her hair and neck, and she also wore a half niqāb—a thin veil that covered half her face so only her eyes were visible.

Arcan gave the hotel manager and the uniformed men an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? I can’t make out what she looks like with all those coverings.”

The hotel manager gave a reproachful look. He must have thought Arcan was culturally insensitive. “The sheikh’s daughter is not allowed to be displayed without a veil in the presence of the non
mahram
, sir.”

“
Mahram
?”

“Family members and unmarriageable kin.”

“Oh. I see.” Arcan folded his arms across his chest. “Well, it’s kind of hard looking for somebody if she’s dressed like that. What makes you think she’s my female companion?”

“We followed a tip,” said the uniformed man who’d asked to inspect Arcan’s room.

“Really? A tip? Well, I can tell you that my female companion wasn’t the sheikh’s daughter.”

“If we may ask, who was your female companion?”

“Alice Heatheridge. She’s an American and works in the American consulate in Dubai. We had business to discuss. You can call her if you’d like to verify it.”

“It won’t be necessary, sir,” said the hotel manager.

Arcan’s fib seemed to appease the men’s curiosity.

“Again, I apologize for this inconvenience, sir.” The hotel manager bowed his head. “If there is anything I can do for you, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I just want to rest. It’s late,” Arcan said, feigning a yawn.

“Of course, sir.”

The hotel manager and the uniformed men exited the room.

“Have a good night,” the hotel manager said.

“Will do.” Arcan closed the door. He paced around the suite, thinking hard. It seemed it was no longer safe for him to stay in this hotel. He had to take Yazmina somewhere else. He still wanted to try the American consulate route though. If that was a dead end, then he had to ask Cyeon for that charter jet.

Arcan changed his shirt, grabbed his passport and all his cash in his suitcase then went downstairs. Yazmina was eating a banana split sundae when he breezed through the restaurant door. She smiled and waved.

“We must go,” Arcan said. He peeled some bills from the thick wad and put them on the table.

Yazmina was puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

“The hotel manager asked me about you. He had your photo. We need to go.”