Sheikh Without a Heart

The driver took her to the palace airport. Somehow she held herself together until she was on the plane and in a seat.

“Please fasten your seat belt,” the still-polite flight attendant said. “We’ll be taking off immediately.”

Rachel nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

The jet’s engines started up.

“We have direct clearance to New York, Ms. Donnelly,” a tinny voice said from a speaker.

The attendant made her way up the aisle and vanished into the cockpit.

The jet began rolling along the taxiway.

I am not going to cry, Rachel thought, as she stared blindly out the window at the rain, I am not …

Sobs burst from her throat.

She leaned her forehead against the glass, let her tears spill down it.

The sky was weeping and so was she.

The plane moved faster and faster. Another few yards and it would reach the runway; the engines would race as it built up speed.

Then it would leap into the sky and all of this would be over.

Suddenly the pitch of the engines changed from a thunderous roar to a whine.

The plane began to slow.

A car, red and low and moving very, very fast, was racing along the rain-soaked taxiway toward them.

The jet rolled to a stop, engines idling. The co-pilot hurried into the cabin from the cockpit.

“What’s happening?” Rachel said. Her voice rose. “I said, what’s—?”

But she could see what was happening for herself. The co-pilot began opening the cabin door.

And as he did, the door of the red sports car flew open.

Karim jumped out.

Karim? Here? Rachel was baffled. Why?

The plane’s door swung open. The staircase dropped into place.

Rachel fumbled with her seat belt.

She wasn’t going to face Karim sitting down. She’d do it toe to toe, and if she had to fight him to leave this awful place—