The Sheikh's Captive American (Zahkim Sheikhs 1)

She put in a call for Dabir to meet her at the palace entrance, and she was off to the hospital.

Phil, already sitting in a wheelchair, looked more than ready to roll. He had on jeans and a T-shirt and curled the brim of a baseball cap in his hand. He also seemed to have a pile of paperwork to sign. Tess pulled out a pen and worked on her lyrics as he listened to instructions from the nurse. Everything, it seemed, had to be explained.

The nurse seemed to hit a snag over what medications he was supposed to have and excused herself. Tess took the chance to tell him about Julie having inked the deal with Sharma Entertainment. She propped her chin on her hand. "I'm worried about trying to manage a relationship when there's this crazy time difference. Do you think I'm overextending?"

Phil shook his head. "You have connections all over the world already. What’s one more? Are you sure you're talking about Sharma and not another kind of relationship? "

Her face warmed. She dropped her stare to the scrap of paper scribbled with half-finished lyrics. "Maybe."

Phil gave a low laugh. "Don't believe I've ever seen you this embarrassed. That sheikh of yours swept you off your feet, huh? That's fast work."

She looked up. "I'm still on my feet." Liar. "But…well, I think it's over. I don't fit here, in this culture. Or with him."

Phil shook his head and wheeled over to her side. "Tess, darlin', your whole life long, your greatest talent has

been making a place fit you. You find something to love everywhere, and your love is the most infectious thing I've ever witnessed. Take that band you told me about. I saw the video you posted. So did a lot of other folks. Pretty soon, this place is going to be on the map for music. Don’t tell me there’s nothing here for you."

She shook her head. "Some folks don't share—"

"You mean one particular folk? Darlin', didn't your daddy teach you that you keep at it until you get it right? Now where's that nurse gone? Time for us to get out of here, and you can show me that palace before we head home. I want to meet this sheikh of yours."

Tess stood, stuffed her song notes into her purse, and headed for the door. "I'll see if I can bust you out."

She strolled down the hall, looking for the nurse, Dr. Al Din, or anyone else. Glancing around the corner, she saw the black robes of Sheikha Amal, Tarek's grandmother, and Dr. Al Din.

Pulling at the shoulder strap of her purse, she hesitated. Dr. Al Din didn't sound happy as he faced the sheikha. "Your Highness, I can do no more."

Uh, oh—that sounded bad. Was the sheikha dying?

Sheikha Amal raised her voice enough for Tess to hear her next words. "It's for the good of your country and your people. The prophecy must come true!"

Tess stiffened. That did not sound like a health issue. What was going on?

Tarek's grandmother and the doctor turned and strolled away. Tess headed back to Phil's room. A moment later the nurse came in and started a stammering apology about how Dr. Al Din could not release Phil without a final set of x-rays and the technician had left on a short holiday and would not be back for a few days.

Phil pursed his lips. "Looks like I'm enjoying a few more days here. At least the food is good."

Tess stiffened. "Something's going on here, Phil. I don’t know what it is, but I think I have a way to cut through this red tape." She gave his arm a pat. "Don't change back into a hospital gown too fast."

Heading out, she found Dabir and asked to be driven back to the palace—or to wherever she could find Sheikh Tarek.

Dabir tugged at his chauffeur's jacket. "His Highness does not keep his staff advised on all movements."

She put her chin up. "Then maybe I'll go for a walk, and you can tell Tarek you lost me in the city." She slammed the car door and set out on foot. Dabir started after her. "Miss Angel, please. It is not safe. There are still protests. The military has been called out; they have the airport open, but the workers are still unhappy that progress moves so slowly."

Stopping, she turned to face him and crossed her arms. "Here's your choice. You can take me to Sheikh Tarek, or you can head back and let everyone know I've gone off on my own."

Dabir let out a long breath, said something in Arabic, and waved her back to the car.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled up in front of a high-rise with flags in front of it. Tess knew a government building when she saw one. Dabir got her inside and up to a room on the top floor. She looked around her. She'd been put in a waiting room, that much was obvious. A few chairs, a few plants, and a lot of glass walls with an amazing view of the city. Five minutes later, Tarek stepped in.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she bit her lower lip. He didn't look happy to see her.

A frown pulled at his mouth and formed a line between his dark eyebrows. He smoothed a silk tie, and Tess wished she'd worn something other than a boho top, jeans, and sandals.

Tarek stood stiffly near the door, as if he wished he’d never stepped into the room. Tess licked her lips, and her heart clenched. Heartsick. Homesick. She didn't know.

Finally, Tarek asked, "What are you doing here?"