Synopsis:
Rafiq reloaded his gun, raised it and aimed it at Shahin. His heart raced. If he missed, he would kill Hessa. “This is between you and me, Shahin,” Rafiq said. “Not her. Let her go.”
Shahin calmly smiled. “Now, why would I do that? We both know you’re not going to risk shooting her.”
Rafiq inched closer, looking for a better angle; a better shot. “Don’t be so sure about that.”
Shahin dug his knife deeper into Hessa’s skin, making her cry out. “Step back,” he said. “I’ll kill her!”
“Go ahead. Then, I’ll kill you.”
Shahin chuckled. “Do you hear that, Hessa? He doesn’t care if you live or die, but that hardly surprises me. Has he told you about his first wife, Fauzia? How he stood by and let her die too.”
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A NOVEL BY,
MICHELLE CHAMBERS
Chapter One
Saturday
Lexington, Kentucky
The warm, September breeze swept in through the open driver's window of Hessa's small, red, rental car carrying with it the fresh, earthy scent of the early morning Kentucky landscape. And although not as vast or majestic as the tranquil snow-capped mountains she had left behind in Switzerland, Hessa couldn't deny the rolling pastures and lush scenery inlaid with miles of silent, shimmering black asphalt had a distinct charm all of its own.
She took one hand off the steering wheel intent on brushing back the few loose strands of hair flying across her face, but as her gaze flicked upward and caught her reflection in the rear-view mirror her fingers soon forgot their purpose.
She studied the slightly rounded features reflected back at her-the small, broad nose, dusky cheeks, strong brow-and fresh doubts surfaced in her mind. How in God's name was she going to get through this?
She repositioned her hand on the steering wheel and returned her attention to the smooth ribbon of black roadway stretching far into the distance. "I bet you don't even look like him," she murmured.
She sighed and hoped her mother's angry parting words that she was 'making a grave mistake' wouldn't ring true.
She'd hated fighting with her mother, but as much as she had wanted to placate her mother by remaining angry with the man who'd succumbed to his family's demands and had turned his back on her mother when her mother had needed him most his unexpected letter five months earlier had gone some way in thawing her heart, as did the enclosed airline ticket and fervent wish that they should meet.
Her mother had tried everything to dissuade her from making the journey to Kentucky. She'd cried and threatened and ranted and raved, and for a while, the tactics and emotional blackmail had even worked.
"Does he think he can just waltz into our lives after all these years?" her mother had said, shaking the offending letter between them. "Twenty-eight years. Who in hell does he think he is? Flashing his wealth and trying to take you from me? He chose to abandon us, remember that. He doesn't have a daughter anymore..."
Hessa groaned softly and shifted uncomfortably behind the wheel of the small car.
She hadn't realized the extent of her mother's anger and unhappiness. Then again, her mother had never been one to wear her heart on her sleeve. She'd kept her bitterness toward Clayton Knowles bottled up for twenty-eight years, until that morning five months ago when his letter arrived and even then her mother had refused to go into further detail about their bitter breakup.
But with such apparent deep and emotional wounds, Hessa finally understood why her mother had always held such dim views on marriage and why her mother had especially found her fiancé, Matthew, wanting.
Hessa blew out a long, quiet breath and glanced at the flawless engagement ring gracing the ring finger of her left hand. Not that her mother's blessing mattered anymore.
The sting of tears welled in her eyes and her chest tightened as she focused her gaze on the brown, single stone, pear cut diamond ring glinting in the early morning sunlight.
It matches the color of your eyes, Matthew had said.
Hessa tried to smile at the memory.
Matthew had surprised her, proposing marriage just six months earlier on the eve of their four-year anniversary. It'd taken what had seemed like a lifetime for her to draw breath, to fling herself into his arms and scream, "Yes."
He'd laughed 'at her adorableness.'
She'd cried because of the love she had for him.
They'd kissed and stayed in bed for the entire day that day, making love over and over again, showering and sleeping in between with no thought of food. On each occasion, he'd deliberately taken his time with her, made her beg and tremble with longing as if somewhere deep down in his subconscious he'd known that day would be the very last time they would ever be together.
Hessa swiped away the tears sliding down her cheek with the back of her hand.
Matthew had been persistent and charming, funny and confident. He'd known exactly what he'd wanted, and he'd set out to win her heart. He'd made her fall in love with him, and now he was dead; taken from her in a mindless road accident.
God, how she missed him. His kiss, his strength, his voice. Her grip on the car steering wheel tightened even further.
Her father's letter, a month later, had been a godsend. A lifeline she hadn't realized she'd needed until she'd opened it and pulled out the enclosed airline ticket. Without knowing it, Clayton Knowles had offered her sanctuary, and after five long months of burying her emotions and listening to well-meaning, if not hackneyed, platitudes, she was ready to get away and not to have to think-
Hessa gave a sudden and startled yelp as a large, black stallion appeared out of nowhere and leaped the white wooden rail fence running high and parallel to the long stretch of gravel road she traveled. She slammed on the brakes of her rental car and swerved to avoid the enormous beast, but without breaking stride, horse and rider continued their mad dash across the front of her car to the opposite side of the road and easily sailed the gleaming white four-foot railing running the other side of it.
It took several moments for Hessa to stop shaking and for her rapidly pounding heart to dislodge itself from her throat. It took a few more to realize the idiot equestrian hadn't raced away as she'd first thought, but had dismounted and simply stood in the open field glaring at her. She bristled.
He had no right to be angry with her.
Her knuckles were practically drained of blood with the death grip she'd kept on the steering wheel, but she peeled her fingers from the steering wheel, unfastened the seatbelt and climbed from the small, red car, slamming the driver's door shut behind her with a resounding thud. She stormed toward the tall, broad-shouldered man, her ire rising with each step.
"Of all the idiotic, stupid stunts to pull-"
Their eyes connected and Hessa instantly regretted it. Nervous heat flared in her chest and a long-forgotten desire surged to life between her thighs. She took an involuntary step backward and reached for her engagement ring with trembling fingers.
Matthew had only been dead six months.
She shouldn't be aware of another man on such a cellular level or want to bury her nose in his skin. Or notice how tightly his black riding breeches hugged his lean, muscular thighs or how his white polo shirt outlined his broad chest and taut, tapering waist.
The urge to turn and run overwhelmed her, but those dark, powerful orbs locked her into place with searing intensity. It was the last thing Hessa expected and the last thing she wanted.
She gathered her scattered thoughts and took the first breath she'd drawn since she'd looked into his eyes. She turned the small diamond ring on her finger and remembered what she wanted to say.
"Your actions were selfish and irresponsible," she said, squaring her shoulders. "Not only could I have killed us both, but I could've gravely injured your horse. By all means kill yourself, if that is what you wish, but I suggest you brush up on your road code before you get your horse killed."
Glittering eyes mocked her from beneath straight dark brows. He wasn't fazed by her outburst. The bastard was amused.
A surge of anger consumed her. How dare he laugh at her? Hessa spun on her heel and stalked back to her car. "Arrogant prat," she muttered.
She'd opened up a fair distance between them when the rich baritone of his voice crossed it and triggered a wave of shivers deep inside her.
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe you are in the wrong?"
Hessa whirled back to face him. First, he laughed at her, and now he blamed her. The increased distance between them added to her courage and she forgot to be intimidated. Her voice pitched higher.
"Me? You're the one who came charging out of nowhere like a bat out of hell!"
He seemingly pulled himself to his full height and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Do you know who I am?"
Hessa narrowed her gaze. "No one of consequence to me."
The words were out before she could stop them, the extent of their ungraciousness echoing starkly in the unnerving silence. She closed her eyes and tried to regain some measure of her hard-won composure.
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Quotes
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