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Chapter One
Newly married bride, Sheikha Arabelle Al Qantisi, slowed the car at the crossroads, her gritty eyes searching Rajhabi’s desert landscape for recognizable signs. A pity arriving yesterday morning in a helicopter at her soon-to-be-husband’s palace meant she didn’t have much to go on.
Add in the sandstorm, which had given her the opportunity to escape from her sheikh husband, but which had also reformed half the landscape, and her navigation was seriously messed up.
She shivered. Despite Sheikh Mahindar Al Qantisi’s western education, he was steeped in tradition and would be furious at his runaway bride. If she was caught she would be severely reprimanded and would no doubt be made an example of in front of his people.
She glanced into the rearview mirror at the dust trail forming on the long road behind. Swallowing a gasp, she turned right and accelerated hard. She’d do whatever had to be done before she allowed Mahindar to capture her.
Her lips thinned. He might have put on a pleasant façade and pretended to be a loving husband to his wife, but theirs was nothing more than an arranged marriage. A farce. She had no doubt once he did his duty and impregnated her, he’d return to the pampered arms of his women.
That he still kept a harem spoke volumes about her husband.
“Ugh!” She might be born a sheikha but she’d had a western education, too, and despite living in a strict UK boarding school, she’d sampled far more freedom there than what she’d ever had in her homeland.
She’d never tolerate oppression again.
Her tyrant father, Sheikh Abdul Al Hussam, ruler of Lumana in the most western region of the United Arab Emirates, had only allowed her a UK education to get her out of his sight. His eldest child and only son had been all he cared about.
Until that same son had died in a freak, horse riding accident.
Her father had been as devastated as he’d been outraged, and had immediately ordered his daughter back home. That he didn’t care about Arabelle’s grief shouldn’t have come as a shock, but after living abroad for twelve years, she’d almost forgotten the ways of her people…of her father.
She’d barely had time to grieve and process her brother’s death when the arranged marriage had been forced upon her just two months after the funeral. Her father wanted a grandson, and in the bargain he got a son-in-law whose name was even more venerated than his own.
She swiped a hand over her face, fine particles of sand drifting free. The sedan she’d stolen from one of the maids or cleaning personnel had been a terrible decision. Not only was it useless on the sandy roads, its navigation system was clunky and barely useable, and its fuel was fast running out.
The decision to escape had been reckless. But when fate had all but fallen into her lap, thanks to the sandstorm, it had been an opportunity too good to refuse. She felt bad for stealing the car, but she’d find a way to recompense the owner.
She glanced into the rearview mirror again, her heart in her throat. Right now she had more serious issues to be concerned about. The line of black SUV’s closing in from behind her was the same fleet of vehicles used by the highly professional security team who trailed her husband everywhere he went.
The same team who’d take her running away as a grave insult to their sheikh.
Shit.What had she been thinking? If they caught her she’d no longer be their honored sheikha. She could imagine their disgust as they mishandled her, perhaps even tortured her before bringing her back, shamed and disgraced, to their revered leader.
She shook her head. They had to capture her first.
The fuel light flashed on the dashboard in front of her.Shit.She was running out of options…fast.
Think, Arabelle, think!
Except there was no time for thinking, only for doing. She swung the car off the road and toward a sand dune, then drove behind it. With any luck the unsettled breeze that had continued after the sandstorm would hide any tracks in the sand.
She killed the engine and opened the window to better hear the approaching SUV’s. Within minutes they roared toward her, then slowed, and her chest expanded as she held her breath for long seconds. As the vehicles continued on she exhaled roughly, left dizzy as adrenaline slowly seeped out of her.
She had no idea if going left or right at the T-intersection was the direction she needed to go, but driving the opposite way to the sheikh’s security men was obviously in her best interest. She’d get as far as her fuel would allow, then she’d flag down a passing motorist and hope like hell she wasn’t recognized.
She looked down at her priceless wedding gown, the bodice studded with diamonds. Her veil and diamond tiara had been thrown carelessly onto the passenger seat. She smiled. The tiara alone would be worth enough to blackmail a passing motorist into taking her out of the country.
That Mahindar had given into her one and only request for a small, western wedding, might actually pay dividends now.
She leaned forward to turn the key and fire up the engine, only to freeze at the escalating, tinny sound that sounded like a mower. Hysteria threatened. There wasn’t a blade of grass out here! Nothing but sand and dunes for as far as the eye could see. Her pulse pounding in her ears, she unlocked her muscles and leaned out of the window and looked up.
Her mouth dropped open and, for a moment, she couldn’t breathe.A drone.Of course it was. Mahindar had the highest tech at his fingertips. He’d probably had it follow her from the moment she’d raced outside and searched every car for a set of keys that might be sitting in the ignition.
It hadn’t mattered at the time that the crappiest car in Rajhabi to have possibly ever entered the palace gates was the first one she’d found with keys. To her mind providence had saved her and freedom had beckoned.
Being a sheikha to one of the wealthiest sheikh’s on the planet had meant nothing. She was bright enough to know she’d be little more than an exotic bird locked away in a gilded prison, whose only requirement was to breed sons for her husband.
