Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife

Chapter FOUR

PROMPTLY at eight the next morning, Bethanne descended the stairs, dressed in her uniform. She was looking forward to another ride over Quishari. She and Rashid had discussed the trip last night. It would give one of his pilots a chance at the controls. She knew he would love the plane.
And she would spend more hours in Rashid’s company. She was treasuring each, knowing the memory of their time would be all she’d have in the future. But for now, she relished every moment.
Fatima sat on one of the elegant chairs in the foyer. She rose when Bethanne reached the tiled floor. Saying something in Arabic, she smiled politely. Bethanne hadn’t a clue what she said, but smiled in return.
The limo was in front and whisked them both away. Obviously today was a day that needed a chaperone. Was she going on the plane with them as well?
Bethanne had braided her hair in a single plait down the back to keep it out of the way. Her uniform was a far cry from the silk dresses she’d been wearing. Still, this was business. It would have been highly inappropriate for her to wear one of the dresses when flying the plane.
The jet gleamed in the sunlight when they arrived. Ground crewmen stood nearby, but no one stood next to the plane. Once she and Fatima got out of the limo, the translator broke away from the group and headed their way.
“His Excellency and Alexes are already in the plane,” he said with a slight bow.
Bethanne’s heart skipped a beat and then began to race.
“I’ll start the ground checklist,” she said, ignoring her clamoring need to see Rashid again. She had her tasks to perform to carry everyone safely. “Ask Fatima if she wishes to accompany me or board now?”
A quick interchange, then he said, “She will remain by the stairs until you are ready to enter.”
Bethanne took her time checking the aircraft then nodded to Fatima and climbed the steps to the plane. After the bright sunshine, it took a couple of seconds for her eyes to adjust. She saw an older man talking with Rashid in the back of the cabin. Starting back toward them, Bethanne watched as they studied the communication panel.
Rashid saw her and introduced the pilot. “We are looking at the various aspects of the aircraft. This one has more features than the one I’ve been using.”
“But the one that was lost had some of these same capabilities,” the pilot murmured, still looking at the dials and knobs.
The plane that was lost—was that the one her father had flown? The pilot was someone who might have known Hank. She hoped they had some time together on today’s flight so she could ask him.
“If you are ready to depart, Alexes would like to sit in the cockpit to observe and then fly it once you give the go-ahead.”
“I’m sure you’ll be ready in no time,” she said to the pilot. “For all the technology this baby carries, she’s quick to respond and simple to fly.”
The man didn’t look convinced. Bethanne wondered if he was unsure of her own skills, or those of the plane.
“Fatima will accompany us,” Rashid said. He handed Bethanne a topographical map. “I thought we could first fly over the ruins from yesterday, and then head west, toward one of the oases I spoke of.”
“Sounds great. Did you already file the flight plan?”
“Alexes did.”
“Then let’s go.”
The pilot bowed slightly to the sheikh and followed Bethanne into the cockpit. He slid into the copilot’s seat and began scanning the dials and switches.
Bethanne smoothly taxied and took off, taking the route the pilot had filed with the ground control. She talked to the pilot the entire time about what she was doing and how the plane responded. His English was excellent and he quickly grasped the intricacies of the new jet.
When they reached their cruising altitude, she banked easily and headed north as the flight plan outlined. The sea was sparkling in the sunshine. The shoreline, irregular below them, gleamed. The vegetation edging the beach contrasted with the white sand and blue waters.
Even as she conversed with the other pilot, Bethanne scanned the land below, wondering if her father had flown this exact route. Her recall of the topographical map showed when they turned inland she would be flying almost directly west. Was that a routine flight for the old sheikh?
Rashid al Harum opened the cockpit door and looked in. “What do you think, Alexes?” he asked, resting one hand on the back of Bethanne’s seat.
The pilot responded in Arabic and when Rashid spoke in the same language, the man looked abashed.
“My pardon. I told His Excellency that the plane handles like a dream. If I may take over for a while?”
Bethanne nodded and lifted her hands.
“Ahh, it does respond like a dream,” Alexes said a moment later, approval in his voice.
“Below are the ruins,” Rashid said, looking over her shoulder.
Bethanne looked out of the window, seeing the outlines of the structures they’d viewed yesterday. She kept her eyes on the ground when Alexes banked slightly so she could see the old piers marching out in the water. The crystal clarity of the Persian Gulf enabled her to clearly see each one. Her imagination was sparked by the picture below. Who had lived there? How had their lives been spent? What would they think of people soaring over them in planes they probably never even dreamed about?
Slowly the plane turned and the ruins were behind them. Below was only endless sand with hardy plants which could survive the harsh conditions. The scene became monotonous in the brown hues.
Bethanne looked over her shoulder at the sheikh. “How long to the oasis?” she asked.
“We’ll be there in time to have lunch before returning. Once you’re reassured Alexes knows what he’s doing, perhaps you’d join me in the main compartment. Try out that sofa again.”
She nodded, her heart skipping a beat. She didn’t need to try out the sofa; she knew it was the height of luxury. She would love to spend a bit more time with Rashid, however. And demonstrate to the other pilot she trusted him with the plane.
The pilot seemed competent. He was murmuring softly, as if in love with the jet. She knew the feeling. It was her favorite model to fly. Still, she didn’t leap at the chance to go back to the cabin. She had to focus on her primary responsibility, which was completing delivery of the aircraft—not spending time with the sheikh. She reviewed the various features of the cockpit, quoted fuel ratios, aeronautic facts and figures and answered all Alexes’s questions.
When she was satisfied he could handle things, she turned over the controls and rose to head to the back. Fatima was dozing in one of the chairs near the rear.
Rashid looked up from a paper he was reading and watched as she crossed the small space and sat beside him on the long sofa.
“Alexes handling things well?” he asked.
“Of course. He said it was similar to another Starcraft plane he used to fly as backup. What happened to that one?”
“It was the one your father took—they both vanished,” he said, putting aside his paper.
“It’s hard to hide an airplane.”
Just then the plane shuddered and began to dive. Bethanne took a split second to act. She was on her feet and heading for the cockpit when it veered suddenly to the right. She would have slammed into the side if Rashid had not caught her and pulled her along.
Opening the cockpit door a second later, she saw Alexes slumped over the controls. The earth rushed toward them at an alarming rate.
Rashid acted instantly, reaching to draw Alexes back. Bethanne slid into her seat and began to pull the plane from the dive. Rashid struggled to get Alexes out of the seat, but the man was unconscious and a dead weight. He called for Fatima and she hurried forward to help him, trying to guide the unconscious pilot’s legs away from the controls as the sheikh pulled him from the copilot’s seat. Once clear, she helped the sheikh carry him to the sofa while Bethanne regained control of the plane.
In only seconds the jet had resumed a normal flight pattern and once she verified the altitude, she resumed their approved flight track. Glancing around, she was relieved there were no other planes in sight.
“How is he?” she called back. The door separating the cockpit from the cabin had been propped open.
“Still unconscious…most likely a heart attack,” Rashid called, loosening Alexes’s collar.
“Oxygen is by the first-aid kit in the galley,” she yelled back. She contacted ground control. Citing an emergency, she was directed to the nearest airport, in Quraim Wadi Samil, a few miles to the south of their original route.
Glancing over her shoulder, Bethanne could glimpse most of the cabin. Fatima held the portable oxygen tank while Rashid was still bent over the pilot. She shivered, hoping he was all right. What had happened?
In seconds Alexes’s eyes flickered. He spoke in Arabic. Bethanne didn’t understand him, but applauded Rashid’s calm reply. In moments the sheikh had the older man take some aspirin and elevated his legs and feet. His color was pale, his speech slurred slightly.
“Might be a stroke,” he called. “We’ll head back immediately.”
“They’ve directed me to an airport in Quraim Wadi Samil. It’s closer and an ambulance will be standing by,” she responded. She looked back again. “How’s he doing?”
“Breathing hard. His color isn’t good. How much longer?”
Contacting ground control, she requested emergency clearance for the airport and requested information on flight time remaining.
It came immediately. With new coordinates she altered course. In less than ten minutes she saw the small airport. In another ten, they were on the ground and the requested ambulance was already on its way to the hospital with Alexes. The sheikh conferred with the medical personnel before they left, then turned back to the two women standing at the bottom of the stairs.
“You handled that emergency well,” Rashid said, his eyes rested on her.
“I was really scared to death. The plane responded well, however, and here we are. It’s what I’m trained to do. What did the emergency medical technician say? Will he be all right?”
“Too early to tell. We’ll follow to the hospital and see what we find out.” He looked at the older woman and said something to her. She smiled and nodded, happiness shining from her face.
“What did you tell her?” Bethanne asked.
“That she was an asset in saving his life. It was providence that she was here and had Haile not left, things might have turned out differently.”
“Helps with her guilt over Haile’s defection, I’m sure,” Bethanne said.
A cab drove up as he was speaking. The driver stopped near the plane and quickly got out, speaking to Rashid.
“Our transportation,” he said.
“That was fast.”
“I had one of the medical personnel radio for a cab. It’ll take us to the hospital and I can decide our next move after I see how Alexes is doing.”
“Will the plane be okay here?” Bethanne asked. They were on the far end of the airport tarmac. There were no personnel around and no fencing or other protection for the plane. Still, it was a small airport and so far off the beaten track, Bethanne couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to harm the aircraft.
“It will be fine.”
The cab was a standard sedan. Comfortable, but a far cry from the limo she’d been using. Oh, oh, she warned herself, don’t be expecting that kind of luxury in the future.


When they arrived at the hospital, Alexes had already been cleared through the emergency room and was in a private room, with a nurse in constant attendance. Bethanne sat in the waiting room with Fatima while Rashid dealt with the paperwork. When he returned, she stood.
“Is he going to be all right?” she asked.
“Too early to tell, the doctor said.” He looked worried. “I called the office to notify his family. If they wish to come here to be with him, I’ll arrange for transportation.”
Bethanne glanced around at the small facility. “Is this place equipped to deal with his situation?” she asked softly.
“It is not the latest in medical technology, but fortunately the doctors on staff are proficient. He will get good care here. Once he’s stabilized, we can fly him back to Alkaahdar.”
“And in the meantime?”
“We’ll stay. Until we know something for certain.”
He spoke to Fatima, who nodded.
“We’ll find a hotel and check in. Then lunch. It’s past one. Then you two can rest until we learn more about Alexes.”
When they met for lunch on the small veranda of the hotel on the square, Bethanne wished she had something to wear besides her uniform. It still looked fresh and would have to do, but the warmth of the day had her wishing for one of the summer dresses in the closet at the villa. Something more feminine than a navy shirt and khaki pants.
Rashid sat at one of the tables. She joined him and he rose as she approached.
“Fatima decided to have lunch in her room. She wishes to lie down afterward,” he said as he held the chair for Bethanne. “I think the excitement is catching up with her.”
“I hope the situation didn’t give her a fear of flying,” she said.
“We’re safe—that’s what counts. I ordered already—a light lunch since it is so late. We’ll eat here tonight if we don’t have definite word about Alexes before then.”
Bethanne nodded. She hoped the other pilot would recover quickly, and be ready to fly again soon. For a moment she wondered what she’d do if she ever had to stop flying. She loved it so much, it would be a drastic change for her life.
The entire situation spooked her a bit. If Alexes had been flying solo, he could have crashed and no one would likely know why. Is that what happened to her father? A crash in some lonely location that no one had found?
“I hope he’s going to be okay.” She felt an immediate affinity to the older pilot. She hoped he recovered from whatever hit him and could continue flying.
Once they were served, Rashid asked if her room was to her liking.
“It’s clean and neat and overlooks the square. Charming, actually.”
“Not like the villa.”
“Nice in its own way,” she replied. “This changes your plans, doesn’t it? You didn’t expect to be away from the office all day.”
“I can be reached by phone if there is an emergency. The staff is capable of handling things. Shall we explore the town after lunch?”
“I would love to.”
When they started out, Rashid insisted on buying her a wide-brimmed hat to shelter her head from the sun.
“You aren’t wearing one,” she said as they left the gift shop.
“I’m used to the sun. Your skin is much fairer than mine and I don’t want it burned.”
She smiled, feeling cherished. No one had looked out for her in a long, long time.
They walked around the square, looking into the shops, but when asked if she wanted to enter any, she declined. She wanted to see as much of the town as she could. The old buildings had ornate decorative carvings and bas-reliefs that intrigued her. The cobblestone streets showed wear but were still functioning centuries after they’d first been laid down.
“Tell me about this place. It’s old, feels steeped in history. Is it a true representation of old Quishari?”
Rashid gave her a brief history of the town, telling her it had been on the trade routes, a favorite resting place because of the plentiful water.
As the afternoon grew warmer, she could feel heat radiating from the walls as they passed. Turning a corner and exploring some of the side streets put them in line with the breeze and it was pleasant.
“The air feels drier than the coast,” she commented.
“Quite. There’s a danger of dehydration. We’ll stop soon and have something to drink.”
Stopping after three o’clock for cold drinks at a small sidewalk café, she was glad the tables had umbrellas. Even with the hat, she was hot beneath the sun. Yet she relished the sights. She loved the sense of timelessness. This town had been here for a thousand years and would likely be around another thousand. If only the walls could talk.
“Will we be able to walk out on the desert a little?” she asked.
“We can ask the driver to take us as far out as you wish to go.”
“Just enough to get the feel for it. It’s amazing to me anyone can live in the desert.”
“The old tribes knew the water spots which were crucial for survival. Caravans and nomads once roamed known trails. Now the routes are known to fewer and fewer people.”


When they returned to the hotel, Rashid summoned the same cab. He spoke with the driver and before she knew it, she was sitting in the backseat with Rashid as the man drove crazily toward the west.
“So we ditch the town and take off,” she murmured, feeling the delightful cool air from the air conditioner.
“For a while. It’s best to see the desert with those interested, not those who wish they were elsewhere.”
She laughed and settled down to enjoy the drive. To the right were rows of oil wells, the steady rising and fall of the pumpjacks timeless.
“I’ve seen those pumps in California,” she commented. “In one place they are even painted to look like whimsical animals,” she said, watching the monotonous up-and-down action of the machines.
“These kind of pumps are used all over the world. I had not thought about decorating them. They’re functional, that’s all.”
“Is this an oil field that belongs to your company?”
“It is.”
“Do you come here often?”
“No. Only once before, actually.” He was silent for a moment, then said softly, “It was my father’s special project. The wells don’t produce as much as in other areas, but he insisted on keeping the field going, and on checking on it himself. I came with him once. It held special attraction for him, not so much for me. As long as there are no problems, I don’t need to visit. Khalid comes occasionally.”
“Must be nice for the local economy.”
“One reason my father kept it going, I think. The discovery of oil helped revive the town and he felt an obligation to keep it going.”
“And you do as well.”
He shrugged. “I try. My father was a great man. I’m doing my best to do what I think would make him proud.”
“Keep an open mind about mine,” she said.
He looked at her, eyes narrowed. “What further is there to discuss?”
“We don’t know what happened. But I know my father. And he was an honorable man. He would not have stolen your father’s plane.”
“My father was also an honorable man. The betrayal of his pilot and the disappearance of the plane caused such stress and anxiety he suffered a heart attack, which killed him. It isn’t only the betrayal but the end result I find abhorrent.”
Bethanne stared out across the desert as if she could search around and find a clue as to what happened to her father. She had only her belief in her dad to sustain her. “I have faith in my father just as you do in yours,” she said slowly.
“It is not something we are going to agree on,” he said.
“Tell me about being a twin,” she said, turning to look at Rashid. It was a definite change of subject, but she wanted the afternoon to be special—not have them at odds because of the past. “I don’t even have a sibling, much less a twin. It is true, you’re so close you can read each other’s mind?”
“Hardly. I can sense things when we are together—like if he’s angry and hiding it. But we are two individuals. Growing up was fun. We delighted in playing tricks on our parents and tutors, switching identities, that sort of thing.”
“Tell me,” she invited.
He spoke of when he and Khalid were boys, visits to the villa to see their grandmother, trips to Europe and other countries around the Mediterranean Sea.
To Bethanne, it sounded glorious. So different from her childhood in Texas. She laughed at some of the antics he described, and felt a bit of sadness for their homesickness when sent to school in England for eight years when Rashid told her how much they’d missed their country.
When he spoke to the driver, he stopped. Rashid looked at Bethanne. “When we get out, look in all directions. Nothing but desert.”
She did so, stepping away from the car, seeking all she could from her senses. The air was dry, hot. The breeze was soft against her skin, carrying the scent of plants she didn’t know. In the distance the land shimmered in heat waves, and she thought she saw water.
“A mirage,” she breathed softly.
“There?” Rashid stood next to her at the rear of the cab, bending down so his head was next to hers so he could see what she saw. He pointed to the distant image and she nodded. “It does look like water, but we would never find it.”
“I know. I have only seen one other mirage. This is fascinating. And quiet. If we don’t speak, I think I can hear my heartbeat in the silence.”
He didn’t reply and for several long moments Bethanne absorbed everything, from the awesome, stark beauty of the desert to the heat from Rashid’s body next to hers, his scent mingling with that on the wind. She never wanted to forget this special moment.
Turning, she was surprised how close he stood. “Thank you for bringing me,” she said.
To her surprise, he put his palm beneath her chin and raised her face to his. “You constantly surprise me,” he said before kissing her.
His lips were warm against hers, moving slowly as if savoring the touch. He pressed for a response and Bethanne gave it to him, sighing softly and stepping closer. His lips opened hers and his tongue teased her. She responded with her own and was drowned in sensation. Forgotten was the world; she was wrapped up in emotions and feelings and the exquisite touch of his mouth against hers. Only the wind was witness, only the sand reflected the heat of passion.
All too soon he ended the kiss and gazed down at her as she slowly opened her eyes. His dark gaze mesmerized. Her heart pounded, her blood sang through her body. If she could capture only one moment of her entire life to never forget, it would be this one.
“We should head back,” he said.
The spell shattered. She stepped back and turned, trying to regain her composure so he would never know how much the kiss meant.
“I’m ready. Thank you for bringing me here. It is a special spot.” And would forever remain so.


The drive back to Quraim Wadi Samil was silent. Bethanne hugged the sensation of his kiss to herself as the desert scenery whizzed by. Before long the roof lines of the buildings could be seen. They drew closer by the moment. As she and Rashid drew further apart. It had been a whim, an alignment of circumstances—the scare in the plane, the worry about the pilot, being away from home. It meant nothing beyond they were glad to be alive.
She wished it had meant something.


Dinner that evening was again on the terrace of the small hotel. Fatima joined them and the sheikh kept the conversation neutral, translating back and forth between the two women. Bethanne wasn’t sure if she were glad Fatima was present or not. It kept things on an even keel, preventing her from reading more into the afternoon’s outing than warranted. But it also meant she had to share the precious time with Rashid. And of course the topic of conversation remained focused on Alexes. The doctor had been cautiously optimistic.
Rashid had obtained the report upon their return to the hotel. It looked as if it was a small stroke.
“But he’ll fully recover?” Bethanne asked when Rashid told Fatima.
“That’s what the tests are assessing. I hope so. But I don’t know if he’ll ever fly again.”
Bethanne nodded. “Or at least not as a solo pilot,” she said. “If he were copilot, there’d be someone else in case of another emergency.” Her heart hurt for the man. Flying was a way of life; how sad if it ended prematurely.
Rashid nodded. “However, I do not want my family or employees put in any danger if unnecessary. Alexes has served us well for many years. He will not be abandoned.”
Sending up a quick prayer for his recovery, Bethanne asked if he would be released before they returned to Alkaahdar.
“Unlikely. We will return in the morning. He’ll need care for several days.”
Fatima spoke.
“She wonders when she will return home,” Rashid said to Bethanne.
“She doesn’t need to stay on my account,” she replied.
“I believe my mother is more comfortable with her as your chaperone. Otherwise, you might have to stay with my mother.”
Bethanne stared at him in dismay. “You can’t be serious.”
“If we are to continue the pretense, we need to be authentic. I would not have a woman in a home I owned without a proper chaperone—not if I were serious about making her my wife.”
“That’s totally old-fashioned.”
“We are an old culture. We have certain standards and procedures that have served us well for generations. One is the sacredness of the marriage bond. And the high standards we hold for women we make our wives.”
“So you might have a fling with someone in another country, but once in your own, it’s old-world values all the way?”
He nodded, amusement showing at her indignation.
“I protect whom I’m interested in. There would be no gossip or scandal. The full authority of the al Harum family would be behind the woman I showed interest in—as it would for Khalid’s chosen bride.”
“Is he also getting married?”
“Not that I know of. He’s not the older son.”
Bethanne thought it over for a moment. In an odd way, it was interesting. Old-fashioned and a bit chauvinistic, but romantic at the same time. A woman who truly caught Rashid al Harum’s interest and affection would be cherished, cosseted and treated like royalty at every turn.
Lucky girl!


The next morning Bethanne piloted the plane back to Alkaahdar. Rashid sat in the copilot’s seat. Alexes had been declared out of danger, but the doctor in charge wanted him to remain a bit longer for observation to assess his reaction to medications. He would be transported home in another company plane in a few days’ time.
As she flew back, Bethanne was lost in thought as she studied the landscape, so different viewed from the air than on the ground. There were endless miles of sand beneath them, no signs of life. Yet she’d felt the vibrancy of the desert when they’d stopped yesterday.


In a short time she saw the high-rises of the city on the horizon.
“I can’t imagine living down there without the modern conveniences,” she said.
“My brother likes the challenge. He goes to the desert a lot. I’m like you. I prefer modern conveniences—especially air-conditioning.”
“Funny that twins would be so different.”
“More a difference in circumstances. When Khalid was burned so badly, he withdrew. I know the woman he thought to marry was horrified and did not stand by him. I thought he was better out of that arrangement, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow. It was after that he began seeking solitude in the desert.”
“Can’t the burned skin be fixed with plastic surgery?”
“He had some operations, decided against any more. He says he’s satisfied.”
Bethanne knew even with the badly burned slash of skin, Khalid was as dynamic and appealing as his brother. “Too bad.”
“It could have been worse. He could have died.”
Once they landed at the airport, the familiar limousine slid into place near the plane.
“I have work to do. Teaz will take you to the villa. I’ll see you for dinner around seven?” Rashid said.
“I’ll look forward to it,” she said, disappointed they wouldn’t spend this day together. “I’ll double-check things on the plane before leaving.”
Since Rashid would be tied up until later, she’d revisit the café in the square near where her father once lived to see if his friend had shown up. The longer she was around Rashid, the more she wanted to clear her father’s name. It grew in importance as her feelings for the sheikh grew.