“Her aunt and uncle have her. They’re on the way to Qu’rim,” Colonel Mendez said, brows drawn low, expression one of quiet fury.

“Fucking Fahd,” Cage said. He had no love for Fahd, not since his wife—before she was his wife—had been in Qu’rim to meet with the sheikh and he’d flown away from the capital without offering her a ride when the rebels took the city.

Cash stood beside the table, unable to sit. Unable to reconcile the situation in his head. The colonel and Ghost were the only other men standing. Everyone else was at their seats around the conference table.

When he’d arrived, they’d already been here, war-gaming the situation. He’d called Viking on the way and told him everything. Hawk had called too. Flavia and Gaetano Rossi had been watching Ella for days, it seemed. They’d hired a mercenary to kidnap her, and he’d taken his shot when one of Hawk’s men left his post.

“What does Fahd want with her?” Cash asked. “She’s still married to me.”

Or at least as far as he knew. He’d gotten no papers to sign. Didn’t mean she hadn’t initiated the process.

“You think a little thing like that will stop Fahd?” Mendez asked. He shook his head. “It won’t. He intends to marry her. He apparently never gave up on the idea after all.”

“We have to stop him,” Cash said, his voice tight. Ella would be afraid. He hated the idea of her being afraid. She’d been free of her family for almost two weeks, but now she was right back where she’d started. Except it was worse, because now she knew what freedom tasted like.

Mendez looked thoughtful. Cash’s belly tightened. If the colonel said this wasn’t a military op, they were sunk. He was sunk.

Cash’s resolve hardened. He would call Ian Black if so. That rogue could get anything done. For a price.

“We’re going to stop him, Money,” Mendez finally said. “You boys get your gear and get ready. I’m calling Andrews for transport.”

Cash’s legs wobbled for a second. Andrews was Andrews Air Force Base, home of Air Force One—and one of the primary sources of their rides to various theaters. This time their theater was the Middle East.

The SEALs hurried to their lockers and grabbed their gear, checking weapons and packs. They’d have to make battle plans on the way. Study maps, figure out where best to intercept Ella and her relatives.

They boarded a plane within the hour and took off. They were a couple of hours behind Ella, but they could make that time up in the air. It was a long trip, and when they landed at a base north of Baq, it was midmorning.

There was a surprise waiting on the tarmac when they disembarked.

Ian Black stood there with arms crossed, chewing a piece of gum and looking supremely bored.

“Hey there, boys,” he called when they trudged off the aircraft with equipment duffels on shoulders and weapons strapped to their bodies. “Long night?”

Viking, as their commanding officer, was the one who had to deal with Black.

“Long enough,” he replied. “How about you? Spend the night in a cushy hotel room eating bonbons?”

“You know it, man,” Black said. “Don’t forget being fed those bonbons by a nubile young lady who misplaced her clothes.”

“Can we cut the crap?” Cash interjected. “Where’s Ella?”

Black let out a long-suffering sigh. “You fucking marine animals are too serious sometimes. Lighten up, fish face. They landed half an hour ago. She’s being taken to Fahd’s palace in the city.”

“Palace? The fucker has a palace?”

Black shrugged. “It’s a compound. He calls it a palace. I guess he’s big into visualizing what he wants. If you visualize it, it will come,” he intoned.

“What about the wedding? Is he actually planning to marry her?” Viking asked.

“So far as I can gather, yes. It’ll be a sunset ceremony in his gardens, according to my information.” He glanced at his watch. All operators wore a watch instead of using cell phones for time, because phones could jeopardize mission security. Black was Special Ops, all right. “That gives you a few hours to figure how you’re gonna bust in there and rescue the girl. Best keep nap time to a minimum, boys.”

“You got a schematic for this place?” Cash growled. “Or you just want to bust our balls?”

Black smiled a lazy smile. “I’ve got it.”

“All right,” Viking said before Cash could pounce, “let’s get into the war room and figure out the plan. Ella is counting on us.”

---

After a forced nap—in which she did not nap at all—Ella was taken to a bathhouse within the palace. Made of artfully crumbling stone and mosaic tile, it was lovely, with a soaring domed roof and hot water pouring from a spigot into a clear pool. Another spigot poured cool water.

She was disrobed by servant girls who ignored her protests, and then immersed into the pool. They joined her, soaping her body and then rinsing her skin with ewers of water poured over her head. Ella sputtered and spat, but they didn’t stop.

Her hair was washed, dried, and woven with flowers. They painted henna designs on her feet and hands while her limbs trembled and they ringed her eyes with kohl. All the while, she kept imagining the dark sheikh with his hooded hawk and the hard look in his eyes. What would he do to her when he finally had her in his bedroom?

Would he strip her naked and take his pleasure, or would he turn away in disgust because he knew she’d been with another man? If all he wanted her for was her title, what incentive did he have to actually copulate with her?

Ella hoped he had none, though she very much feared she was going to be proven wrong on that score. Men, she knew, didn’t need much of an excuse.

She was wrapped in silk robes, each one more elaborate than the last, and draped in jewels that hung between her breasts and lay against her skin. Skin that was visible through the narrow slits in the robes.

“Come,” one of the maidens who’d been tending her said when the preparation was done, smiling as if Ella were being bestowed a great honor.

Ella hesitated.

The maiden took her hand. “Come.”

“No,” Ella whispered, hanging back. “No.”

Her heart pounded and she felt suddenly light-headed. She didn’t want this. She was married to Cash—whether he liked it or not—and she didn’t want Sheikh Fahd. How could she lie beneath him after what she’d experienced with Cash? How could she pretend it was okay?

At least it won’t hurt.

No, it wouldn’t hurt because she’d had enough sex to make sure it didn’t. Unless the sheikh took her in a place that Cash had not.

Fear froze Ella’s heart, her throat, her feet. She couldn’t move.

“You will come, Princess,” the maiden said again. Firmer this time. Less smiling. “The sheikh awaits.”

“No,” she whispered. “I cannot.”

“You have no choice, Princess. The sheikh is your lord and master. You will come.”

“Who are you?” Ella asked, horrified at how unfeeling this girl was. How certain that Ella should go willingly and that it would be a great honor for her.

“I am nobody, Princess. You will come.”

Ella wanted to scream. To cry. Fear glued her feet to the ground. But then she got mad at herself. Why was she cowering? Hiding? She would go to Sheikh Fahd with her head held high. She would be defiant and completely unsuitable. Perhaps he would be so disgusted with her that he would let her go. Tell her aunt and uncle the deal was off.

She marched out of the room behind the maiden. The others followed. This one led Ella through cool corridors upon which the shadows grew long. When she reached a doorway, she stopped and knocked.

“Enter,” a dark voice said.

Ella’s heart throbbed as the maiden swung the door open. The sheikh stood there, imposing and cool in his white desert robes and dark headdress with the golden cords holding it in place. There was a sword at his waist and a winking jewel on his hand. He was resplendent—and a little frightening.

Ella followed the maiden into the room. Her aunt and uncle stood off to the side, looking smug. There was another man. A secretary, perhaps.

“I have papers for you to sign, Princess,” Sheikh Fahd said. “You will sign them and then we will be married.”

Her heart pounded. Her chin lifted. Defiant. “And if I do not?”

Because would the sheikh threaten her with death? What good would it do him?

“You will sign, or you will be punished.”

Ella searched for something to say. Finally it hit her. “You would have me sign over my fortune to them? What if it could be yours?”

Sheikh Fahd’s eyes gleamed. “I have enough money. I don’t need more.”

She lowered her lashes. “Can a man ever have enough?” she asked softly.

He didn’t speak for a long moment. Her aunt sputtered. Her uncle stiffened. Ella wanted to laugh. Fahd did laugh, but it wasn’t an angry sound. It sounded like genuine amusement. She was encouraged.

“Perhaps not,” he murmured.

“Sheikh Fahd, I have a lot of money that my parents left me. I don’t know what these people told you”—she cast her relatives a withering glance—“but they have no right to that money. It can be yours. I would rather it was yours than theirs.”

Aunt Flavia was close to exploding. Uncle Gaetano looked furious.

Ella pressed on before her aunt could speak. “They have no right to it. You, as my husband, do. Surely it will help you in your quest.”

“My quest?”

Ella lowered her gaze. Had she gone too far? She only knew that he wanted to be king of Qu’rim because Cash had told her. “Your quest to do what is right and best for your country,” she said softly. “Let the money help Qu’rim as it cannot help Capriolo.”

Fahd shot her relatives a glance. They looked positively outraged. It must be killing them not to speak, but she knew they were working hard to show deference to Fahd.

“Sheikh Fahd,” her uncle began. One of Fahd’s eyebrows lifted. “The girl is mistaken. The Rossi fortune cannot be transferred to someone who is not a Rossi. It is law.”

Ella wanted to laugh at that blatant lie. Her attorneys had spent a great deal of time over the past five days telling her exactly what she could do with her fortune. The answer was whatever she wanted.

Fahd ignored her uncle. He snapped his fingers and the man who’d been standing off to the side hurried over.

“Come,” he said to Ella, holding out his hand with the hint of a smile. “We will be wed first. Then we shall decide what is to become of your money.”