“I’m sure you’ll recover.” Fariq cast his sarcastic glance to the ceiling. “Though Allah forbid, I should be responsible for such a tragedy.” Shaking his head, Fariq cast his glance to the only other man in the room, which was how Christian found himself being dragged into the mire of his employer’s minor family argument.
“Reid,” Fariq called from across the room.
Aliya visibly startled, twisting around to look at him as if she hadn’t been aware Christian was even in the room. That annoyed him, especially since he couldn’t stop himself from becoming more and more aware of her with every perfumed-tainted breath he took. His cock throbbed against the inside of his thigh.
“Yes?” Christian reluctantly replied, abandoning all pretense of ignoring them.
“Kindly take my sister shopping before she expires of despair right here on the Tabriz carpet,” Fariq told them both, in a move completely opposite of his usual overprotectiveness where Aliya was involved. “You have shopping of your own to do today, anyway.”
Christian blinked. He did?
“He does?” Aliya blinked twice, then glanced at him again. For a moment, Christian thought she was about to object, but sweeping her assessing stare up and down him, she gave in to her brother. “You’re really going to let me go?”
Setting his tablet aside, Fariq leaned forward to press a kiss upon her forehead.
“Buy anything your heart desires, but you are to mind Reid. I know for a fact, he knows how to deal with naughty little girls who fail to obey. Now, please, leave me to my work. The world won’t conquer itself, you know.”
He smiled as if he was joking. Christian knew he wasn’t. Fariq was the most apolitical animal he’d ever known. He had no ideology and believed in nothing except the power of money, but he was also single-minded in his drive to get it and didn’t care who he hurt in the process.
Aliya grinned. Jumping up off the floor, she headed for the door. Just before she reached it, she twirled back to Christian. “Meet me in fifteen minutes?” she asked before clearly delegating him to servant status and dismissing him.
“He’ll be delighted,” Fariq answered for him, annoying him that much further.
The curls of her hair bounced when she spun back toward the door. The curve of her bottom bounced too, just barely covered by the thin cloth of her elegant summer dress. Christian did his best not to get caught staring at it as she flounced out. He lost himself in the minute, fantasizing how those mounds of curvy flesh would bounce under the vigorous swats of his open palm for dragging him into this mess when he had more important things to do. He doubted if there was another bottom on this planet he wanted to spank more—or he wanted to spank and do so much more to. The idea of ‘much more’ was enough to make him groan with need, but he managed to refrain. He really did have more important things to do. For as long as Fariq planned to conquer the world, Christian knew he needed to try to save it.
Shit. Fariq was watching him. The disarming smile he reserved solely for his younger sister was gone, and in its place was that old familiar, impossible to read, cold, reptilian, dead-eyed stare that never failed to make every warning flag Christian possessed fly on full alert. This was not a man to argue with or defy—or imagine himself playing spanky-games with his baby sister. Christian had a terrible habit of forgetting that fact at the worst possible times.
“Thanks,” he said sarcastically.
Almost imperceptibly, Fariq’s gaze focused on him. Christian hated it when he did that—stared at him with a dead look, only for Christian to discover Fariq wasn’t really looking at him at all, just in his direction.
Well, he was looking at him now.
“I thought we were meeting the Ugandan warlord about our missing gun shipment?” Christian asked.
“I can do that without you. Besides, I’m sure there’s something the ship needs, so it shouldn’t be a complete waste of your time. And truly, my friend, who would I trust with my darling sister if not you? Don’t take me for a fool. I am very well aware Aliya has grown into a beautiful young woman. She’d be a coveted prize for a good many people I know to kidnap, marry, rape, or any combination thereof. She must be protected. Her husband will expect a virgin on her wedding night.”
“I thought you wanted me to settle the financials.”
Fariq waved that aside as if it were a minor inconvenience. “What does money matter where the safety of my most prized possession is concerned?”
“Who are you?” Christian deadpanned. “What have you done with Fariq Abdal, and is he being treated well?”
Fariq snorted. “I mean, I know you’ll care for her as you would for your own little sister. Finn is her name, isn’t it? Morocco isn’t as volatile as some places we could be, fortunately, but there’s never any guarantee. Especially not with the Wild Mustangs charging out of the shadows at us every chance they get.” He looked up from his tablet again. “Where are they, by the way?”
“According to our sources, ensconced at their headquarters, most likely making last-minute wedding plans.”
Laughing softly, Fariq shook his head. “Who’s getting married?”
“Noah to the journalist Zara Hughes, and Croft to—”
“Your sister. Yes, I remember now. We’ll need to send them each a gift from me. Nothing too outrageous, mind you—some men and a helicopter should suffice. It’s past time someone taught the Mustangs if they think they can disrupt my business, however and whenever it pleases them and still pretend their families are beyond my reach, they’re very much mistaken. When it comes to wives and children, they have more to lose than we do.” Fariq picked up his tablet again.
“I’ll take Michaelson and Amin to meet with Murammar.” Glancing up from his news report, Fariq gave him a pointed look as he fished a wallet full of local cash out of his desk and tossed it to him. “My darling Aliya is to come back from this venture safe and smiling, yes?”
Quickly disconnecting his own computer from the hidden recording drive that was piggy-backing on Fariq’s database, Christian feigned a disgruntled sigh and picked up the wallet.
“Safe and smiling. Got it.”
He now had less than fifteen minutes to get ready to play bodyguard for an overly-indulged young woman in a crowded bazaar. One of the things he’d learned early on working for Fariq, the man was usually safest when he thought his every whim was being obeyed.
Aliya managed to keep herself calm, cool, and seemingly happy all the way through her brother’s yacht. She practically skipped down the hall, past the armed guards randomly spaced throughout the passageways. Her role as the pampered, vapid little sister to the world’s most notorious arms dealer had long ago begun to cost her more than she could continue to pay, but she couldn’t afford to let it show where anyone could see her.
Completely ignoring the two men stationed midway between Fariq’s room and hers, she slipped past them and was finally back in the relative safety of her quarters. Shutting the door to her cabin, Aliya leaned against it long enough to draw a shaky breath and still her swiftly racing heart.
She’d thought it had been such a grand win when a little more than four years ago, on her eighteenth birthday, she finally convinced her overprotective brother to buy her an elaborate computer system, so they could email and FaceTime, she’d told him. ‘For your schoolwork,’ his neat penmanship had read when the computer arrived via mail. Then, much as now, Fariq had never let her stay in any one place for more than a few months. Denied the comfort of making friends, Aliya found solace and companionship online. What a terrible mistake that had been.