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The guard tipped his head to Abby and said something that didn’t sound aggressive—in fact it sounded almost deferential.
‘He said he is sorry about your experiences and hopes that it has not given you a bad impression of our country.’
Abby smiled and nodded at the man. ‘Did he really say that?’
‘Word for word,’ Zain responded but the look in his eyes suggested he had missed a few things out in his translation.
‘So, what happens now?’
As if in response to her question a jeep drove towards them stopping only a few feet away. A driver wearing a military uniform got out and walked towards them and for a split second she thought his extended hand held a weapon or at least a set of handcuffs, but then she saw that the metal the sun had glinted off was a bunch of keys attached to a key ring.
Zain held out his hand for the keys, delivered some sort of instructions to the driver and then sent him on his way.
Abby hadn’t understood a word of the one-sided conversation and felt her confusion grow as she watched the man lead the stallion away.
‘You can’t let them take your horse,’ she protested.
‘I thought you did not like horses.’
‘That’s not the point—you can’t trade an animal for a...a...’
‘The horse doesn’t have air-conditioning. Relax, I am joking.’
‘Joking?’
‘I have not exchanged my horse.’ His lips twitched at some sort of inside joke she wasn’t privy to. ‘They are merely going to look after him for me.’
‘And let you use this in the meantime?’ She continued to regard him with extreme scepticism. ‘Did you bribe them or something?’ she called out as he got into the driving seat.
Zain leant out of the window. ‘I simply explained the situation. Now get in.’
Abby did so, not that she was in any way convinced by his story. She knew she was missing something, but what? He started the engine almost before she had closed the door.
‘You’re not telling me everything. Have you got connections or something?’
‘I have an honest face and they have my horse as hostage. It was a simple negotiation.’
It sounded plausible but the conviction she was missing something persisted.
Clearly he knew the city well, as he drove quickly and efficiently, diverting on numerous occasions down side streets when they encountered traffic jams or when some of the parties that still seemed to be going on had blocked entire roads.
The party atmosphere seemed to have infected the policemen on duty as well because they were waved through the numerous security checkpoints without being stopped once. It couldn’t have gone smoother if they’d been part of the wedding party.
‘This is it.’
He pulled the jeep up outside a building with wrought-iron railings, the only thing differentiating it from the other buildings lining both sides of the affluent-looking but narrow street the small, discreet sign above the door.
She turned in her seat. ‘I don’t know your name, and you’ve... People say the words “you’ve saved my life” all the time.’ She done it herself when someone handed her a coffee she needed particularly badly. ‘But you really have. You’re a genuine hero.’ For the first time, she saw him look acutely uncomfortable. ‘And just when I thought you didn’t have a weak spot,’ she murmured, half to herself.
‘Right place, right time...that’s all.’
She shook her head and reached for the door handle, inadvertently knocking her injured arm. She clenched her teeth as fighting the pain was a lot easier than fighting the throb of awareness she felt every time she looked at this man. It was so strange because she didn’t normally react this way to men—she never had, certainly not with Gregory, whose appeal had been the fact he seemed safe...turned out, of course, he was anything but!
Zain was opening the passenger door before she had even registered he was getting out. While Abby nursed her throbbing arm against her chest he took her other and helped her out. ‘Be careful and get that arm checked out straight away.’
‘I will,’ she promised, looking at him and feeling the traitorous trickle of heat between her legs. Why did she react to him this way, a way she had never reacted to a man before? ‘It’s actually feeling better, I think.’
She thought about shaking his hand but remembered how that had turned out the last time and thought better of it, instead tipping her head solemnly in thanks.
He nodded, turned and strode back to the car. She had the craziest impulse to run after him before he vanished from her life, but common sense prevailed before she had made a fool of herself for a second time—he never had been part of her life so there was no reason to change that now.
Abby walked to the embassy door, glad he couldn’t see the tears that filled her eyes, unaware that someone else could.
* * *
In the basement of the British Embassy a man sitting beside several monitors turned and called out to his colleague, who was dozing in a chair.
‘Call Mr Jones; I think he’ll want to see this.’ He scrolled the image back several frames and froze the streamed recording, zooming in on the face of the man that many privately called the man who should be the next sheikh.
Pity Zain Al Seif was only second in line.
