Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife

Chapter SIX

BETHANNE rode back to the villa wondering how she could find out more about that secret mission. The only one who had probably known was the old sheikh and he was dead. Would his wife have known anything? If she had, Bethanne would be the last person she’d tell.
Yet everyone seemed to think the plane was stolen. Even so, Hank would have had to file a flight plan. Someone must have known something more about the plane. But she wasn’t sure if it were even possible to get a copy in Quishari, much less at this late date.
She could ask Rashid.
Mulling over the possibility of being rebuffed, she weighed it with the possibility of annoying Rashid. But she hadn’t a clue where else to go.
When she reached the villa, Fatima was in the foyer, her suitcase beside her. Minnah was there as well and smiled when she saw Bethanne.
“Fatima leaves for the airport. She is returning home,” the maid said in English.
Bethanne nodded. “Please tell her I’m sorry for the inconvenience of remaining here when she must have wished to return home immediately.”
Minnah relayed the comment, then listened to a rapid burst of speech from Fatima.
“It is she who is grateful for you and whatever arrangement you made with the sheikh that she does not fear returning home. Her charge put her in a very awkward situation and if not for the compassion of the sheikh, she’d not wish to return home. She spoke with her family and there is no retribution awaiting.”
“I should hope not,” Bethanne said. “She couldn’t help—” She paused. Hopefully Fatima had been circumspect in her complaints. Remembering the charade, she finished. “She couldn’t help the situation. Tell her I wish her a pleasant journey home.”
Once Fatima left, Bethanne went into the library again, wandering around, studying the various books on the shelves. She stopped at the desk and looked at the computer, considering. Turning it on, she sat down and began to search the Internet on any information she could get about Quishari and flight plans and Rashid’s father.
Losing track of time, she was surprised when Minnah knocked on the opened door. “Miss, you haven’t come for lunch. It is on the terrace. Are you not hungry?”
Bethanne nodded, reluctant to leave her search, but suddenly feeling ravenous.
She was glad she took the break a few moments later when Rashid arrived. She felt almost guilty using the computer to find out more about his father. If her need hadn’t been so strong, she would not have done more than a cursory look to learn a bit more about him. Rashid loved his father and wanted to be like him.
She loved her father, and wanted to clear his name.
“Late lunch,” Rashid said, drawing out a chair and sitting at the small table.
“I had coffee at a square in the old town midmorning, so wasn’t ready to eat until now,” she explained. “What are you doing here? Is the workday over?” She knew he devoted many hours to business; was something special going on to have him leave so early?
“I thought we could take the jet up again, fly over the wells to the south and see how things are going. Khalid said the well that was burning has been capped. I’d still like to see how much damage was done. There’s an airport nearby and I’ll have a car waiting so we can drive to the docks, and then go to the derricks themselves.”
“I’m at your command,” she said, taking another drink of the iced lemonade she enjoyed so much. This was unexpected, but she relished a chance to see more of what he dealt with daily. She was soaking up as much as she could about Rashid. Down the years, she’d have plenty of memories.
“No rush. Finish your lunch. Where in old town did you go?” he asked.
Bethanne looked at her salad, hoping hearing about her morning wouldn’t make him angry. “I went for coffee at the square near where my dad lived. I met another American—a friend of Hank’s,” she said.
“Anyone I know?” he asked.
“A professor of English at the university. Walt Hampstead. He was pleased to see me. My dad had spoken of me to him. He said he’s lived here for more than twenty years. Even married a local girl and they have two children.”
Rashid appeared unconcerned by the revelation. “Did you visit the shops?”
“No, I enjoyed the architecture and got a feel for the place. The older section really draws me. I love it. If we are going soon, I’ll run up and change.”
When they reached the airport an hour later, Bethanne went to the air traffic control office to file a flight plan. The service was quick. As she was turning to leave, she asked if there were archived flight plans for the past five years. The clerk was instantly curious as to why she wanted to know. She shrugged it off as mere curiosity and left. The reports would be in Arabic undoubtedly. No help there—unless Walt could translate them for her.
Rashid had remained with the plane and she did her visual inspection before boarding. He was already in the cockpit and for a moment, the intensity of her wish that things had been different floored her. What would it have been like if she and he had met under different circumstances? If he did not think her father a thief and he was seriously interested in her? That they were going off for a day of fun, just the two of them.
She couldn’t help her own excitement at seeing him. Try as she might, it was difficult to remember it was all a charade. Especially after his kisses.
Once soaring over the Persian Gulf, she leveled out the plane and watched the earth below. There were large container ships on the sea, white beaches lining the shore. As they approached the oil rigs several hundred yards offshore, she circled slowly. The fire was out. There was a huge oil tanker anchored on the seaward side of one of the high platforms.
“Taking in oil?” she asked, pointing to the ship.
“Yes. Then it goes to a refinery. That’s one of our ships. Another branch of the company,” Rashid said. “My uncle runs that. Set us down and we’ll head out to the rigs.”
They landed on the runway that ran beside the sea. After Bethanne taxied the plane to a sheltered area as directed, she shut down the engines. A dark car drove over and a man jumped out of the driver’s side. In only moments they were driving toward the docks.
The launch that took them to the rigs was small and rode low on the water. Bethanne studied the huge platforms that rose on pilings from the sea floor. When they arrived, they had to climb a hundred steps to get to the main platform. The noise surprised her as machinery hummed and clanked as it pumped the crude from beneath the sea.
Khalid was there and strode over to greet them. His manner was reserved and more formal than Rashid’s. A difference in the twins. Even though they looked alike, they didn’t behave alike.
A moment later Rashid excused himself, saying he had to confer with Khalid on a private matter.
Bethanne walked away, toward the activity near the ship. There were lots of men working in a choreographed way that showed they all knew their respective jobs well.
After watching for a while, she saw a man walk over to say something to her.
“Sorry, I only speak English,” she said.
“I speak it,” he replied with a heavy accent. “You fly jet that landed at airport?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“I used to work planes for the old sheikh.” He shrugged. “After he die, I come to oil—” He gestured around them. “Sheikh Rashid don’t travel like father did.”
“The old sheikh traveled a lot?” she asked, suddenly wondering if this man had known her father.
“More than son.” He looked at the activity, studying it a moment as if assessing the efficiency.
“Did you know Hank Pendarvis?” she asked.
He looked back at her and nodded.
“Someone asked me to look him up if I got to Quishari. I think maybe he died several years ago.”
The man nodded. “Bad time. Caused old sheikh’s death.”
“What happened?”
“Flight in west, something special.” He paused a moment as if searching for the English word. “Sandstorm crash plane. All die.”
“I heard he stole the plane, took an illegal flight.” Her heart pounded. This man said her father had crashed. She knew something kept him from contacting her. Still, maybe all hadn’t died. Maybe it was even a different plane.
“No. Job for old sheikh.”
Bethanne’s interest became intense. “Did you tell anyone? Why does everyone believe he stole a plane?”
“Those need to know do.”
“Where did he crash?”
“West.”
“Who knows about this?”
He shrugged.
Either he knew no more or wasn’t going to give her specifics.
“And he is buried out west, too?”
He shrugged. He peered at her closely, searching her face and eyes. “In a town called Quraim Wadi Samil.”
Bethanne gave an involuntary start of surprise. “We were just there,” she said.
The man shrugged. “Perhaps you go again.”
“Why didn’t you tell someone at the time? Sheikh al Harum believes he stole the plane.”
“No, I tell the sheikh.” He looked at where Rashid stood talking with the other men.
A helicopter approached, its blades whipping the air around the platform. It set down near the far edge.
Someone on the platform called the man and he waved. “I go.” He loped across the platform and climbed aboard the helicopter with two other workers.
Bethanne stared at the helicopter until it was out of sight. It had not remained on the rig for more than a few minutes. Where was it taking the maintenance worker? She had to have answers. According to him, he had told Rashid.
That didn’t make sense. If Rashid knew, why not tell her? He didn’t pull punches accusing her father of being a thief, why not say if he were dead? If Rashid knew about the sandstorm and the plane crash, why not tell her?
“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” a male voice asked to her right.
Turning, she saw Khalid had joined her, staring at the damaged oil rig.
“What?”
“Why men put themselves in danger just to pump oil from beneath the sea,” he said.
“Was anyone injured in the fire?”
“One man was killed. Another burned.”
“I’m sorry.”
“As were we. Mohammad was a good man.”
“You were burned once, yet you still fight the fires.”
“I do not want fire to win. Why are you here?”
“Rashid brought me.”
“I mean, why still in Quishari. You delivered the plane. You did not deliver Haile. Yet you stay.”
“Ask your brother.”
“I did. He said to stop rumors flying that would damage the negotiations with Benqura. I say forget it. Rashid has little to offer for you to stay—unless you hope to cash in somewhere down the line. A story for a tabloid? A bit of blackmail for your silence?”
She turned to him, affronted at his comment. “I have no intentions of blackmail or talking to a tabloid. Maybe I feel a bit responsible I didn’t make sure Haile was on board when we took off. What’s not to like about a few days in this lovely country? The villa is exquisite. The staff makes me welcomed. Your brother has shown me places I would not otherwise have seen. I would not repay such hospitality with anything you suggest. I stay because he asked me to.” She wasn’t going to dwell on the attraction she felt any time she was near Rashid. That was her secret alone.
Khalid studied her for a moment, his eyes assessing. “Maybe. But I don’t buy it. Not from an American woman in this day. There has to be something for you in it.”
“You’re cynical. Maybe I’m enjoying a mini vacation.”
“Yet you still fly.”
She laughed. “That’s for fun.”
Rashid walked over. “Khalid.” He acknowledged his brother. Rashid looked at Bethanne and then Khalid. “Problems?”
“Just questioning your guest as to why she’s here. Watch your back, brother.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Rashid said with a steely note.
“Maybe it’s time for me to leave,” she said.
Rashid shook his head, his gaze still locked with his brother.
“No one helps out a stranger by pretending so much without something in return,” Khalid warned.
Obviously Rashid had not shared all he knew about Bethanne to Khalid. She wanted to confront him about the information she’d learned from the older man. But not with Khalid standing there. How soon could she get back to Quraim Wadi Samil?
Rashid reached out to take her hand, pulling her closer to his side. “Give me an update on the estimated repair time, if you would. Then we’ll be going.” He was making a definite statement for his twin.
Khalid shrugged and began speaking in rapid Arabic. Bethanne could feel the tension from Rashid as his hand held hers. She let her mind wander since she couldn’t understand a word. Why had Rashid asked her to stay—actually almost coerced her? The longer she knew him, the more attached she became. For a few moments, she’d let herself imagine he’d fall in love with her. He’d be as attracted to her as she was to him. Which could lead to happiness beyond belief.
But the reality was more like heartache the size of Texas. She wondered if she dare hint that her feelings were engaged. He’d given her no indication he wanted anything more than a buffer with the minister to buy him some time. And he had not told her the truth about her father.
Yet those kisses had been magical. Had he felt any of the pull she had? With all the women he could date with a snap of his fingers, the fact he spent so much time with her had to mean more than just subterfuge for the minister’s sake. Or not. He was so focused on work.
“Is there anything else you wish to see?” Rashid asked her. Bethanne looked at him. Khalid was already some distance away, walking to a group of men near one of the large machines.
“A quick tour would be great. I’ll probably never be on an oil rig again.” Chafing with impatience to find out more about her father, she refrained from asking him while others could hear. And a quick tour might give her time to figure out how to formulate her question so he’d answer.
“I thought Hasid might have explained some things to you.”
“Who?”
“The man you spoke with earlier.”
“No.” So much for waiting. “Rashid—he said my father’s plane crashed near Quraim Wadi Samil. He said you knew.”
Rashid stared at her, glancing briefly to the sky where the helicopter had flown. “I do not know what happened to your father. Why would he say that? He never told me. Why does he think that?”
She stared back. Had the other man lied? Why would he? Yet, she couldn’t believe Rashid would lie about it. It didn’t make sense.
“I’ll speak to him. Maybe you misunderstood him. While he speaks some English, he is not fluent. He would have come forward when the plane was lost if he knew anything.”
“He says he spoke to you.”
“He did not.”
She broke her gaze and looked across the water. What to believe? She wished she could return to Quraim Wadi Samil and search for the grave herself. What if he was there? Who could she trust? Who to believe?
The flight home was conducted in almost total silence. Bethanne was trying to figure out how to find out for sure if her father had crashed. Rashid seemed to have dismissed the other man’s revelation without a care. Would he if it were true?
Or would he try to stop her if she suggested another visit to Quraim Wadi Samil?


After lunch at the villa, Rashid invited her to go swimming. Bethanne’s first response was a yes! She’d love to spend more time with him. But the situation with her father loomed between them.
“I’d like that. I’d also like to learn more about my father.”
“Very well. Today we swim. I’ll have someone contact Hasid and ask for details. I think you misunderstood him. We have no knowledge of where your father is, or the plane. Do you think a plane crash could be hidden?”
Put that way, she doubted it possible. Still, she had understood what the man said. There was no denying he said he spoke to Rashid.
There was nothing more to be done today. If she didn’t get a satisfactory answer from Rashid’s questioning, she’d see if she could get back to the oil rig and speak with him again.


The small boat Rashid drove to was larger than a runabout yet easily handled by one. The marina not far from the villa, it didn’t take long to be on their way.
Once out on the water, Bethanne seated in the seat next to his, he turned south. The homes along the shore were varied, from tall and austere, to low with lush gardens and fountains sparkling in the sunlight. Some were set back from the water, some bordered the beach. The farther south they went, the more space grew between homes. Finally he nodded to the thick foliage. “Can you see the villa?”
She caught a glimpse of the roof and a tiny corner of the veranda.
“That’s where we eat,” she said. It looked smaller from this vantage point. She sighed in pleasure. “It’s as pretty from the water as the view is from balcony.”
“My grandmother loved beautiful things. This is only one of her homes. They all had gardens that gave her such pleasure.”
“My grandmother loves roses. She’s a longtime member of the rose society in Galveston and wins prizes for her blossoms year after year.”
“Yet another thing we have in common,” Rashid said, cutting the engine and letting the boat drift. “Care to swim?”
“I’d love it.” She quickly shed the cover-up and reached into the pocket for a band to hold her hair back. Tying it into a ponytail, she waited while Rashid went into the small cabin to change. “Ready when you are,” she called.
Rashid stepped out a moment later, clad only in swim trunks. Bethanne almost caught her breath at the masculine beauty. His shoulders were broad; that she already knew. His chest was muscular and toned, not a spare ounce of flesh anywhere. His skin was bronzed by the sun. Masculine perfection. She could sit and stare at the man for hours.
She just hoped she didn’t look liked a stunned star-struck groupie. Get your mind on swimming and nothing else, she admonished herself.
Rashid tossed two towels on one of the seats and brought a small ladder from one of the storage compartments. Hooking it to the side, he stood aside, gesturing with one hand.
“After you.”
She took a breath, passed close enough to feel the radiant heat from his body, before taking a quick vault over the side. The water closed over her head a moment later, cooling her off in an instant. She felt the percussion of his hitting the water, then rose, blinking in the bright sunshine.
“It’s heavenly,” she said, turning to swim slowly parallel to the beach. She didn’t want to get too far from the boat. The water felt like soft silk against her skin. Its temperature enough to cool, yet warm enough to caress. After a few minutes of swimming, Bethanne stopped and began to tread water. Rashid was right beside her.
“This is fabulous,” she said, shaking water from her face, and spraying him with the water from her ponytail.
He laughed and splashed her. In only seconds a full-fledge water fight was under way. Finally Bethanne cried to stop. She was laughing so hard she was swallowing water.
She began to cough and Rashid was there in an instant, supporting her in the water, pounding on her back.
“I’m okay,” she gasped a minute later. “I shouldn’t be laughing when I’m being deluged by tidal waves.”
“I haven’t played like that in a long time,” Rashid said as they began slowly swimming back toward the boat.
“You should. I think you work too hard.”
“Ah, maybe it’s the company I’m keeping. Makes it more fun.”
She glowed with the compliment. From a rocky beginning, it looked as if things were changing.
“I could say the same. I’ve enjoyed being here.”
“It won’t be much longer.”
She felt her heart drop. “How close are you to completing your deal?” she asked, almost fearing the answer.
“Close enough to expect to sign the papers this week.”
Bethanne felt the disappointment like an anchor in her chest. She actually faltered a moment in swimming. What had she expected—that it would take years to sign the contracts?
“I hope you won’t dash off the instant the ink hits the paper,” Rashid said.
They reached the boat. He steadied the ladder while she climbed. Once she was on board, he swiftly followed.
“I need to return to Texas,” she said slowly. She could stay a few days, maybe, yet to what end? She could go sightseeing on her own, but it wouldn’t be the same as with Rashid. And he had to believe her father had taken the plane, no matter what the man on the platform had said. He’d mentioned it often enough. Had she misunderstood Hasid?
“I could stay for a little longer.” Was that breathless voice hers? Those foolish dreams lingering?
“Because?” he pressed.
“Because I want to.”
Rashid smiled in satisfaction, then pulled her gently into his arms to kiss her.
His warm body pressed against hers as the boat bobbed on the sea, his arms holding her so she didn’t lose her balance. Her own arms soon went around his neck as she savored every inch of contact. She was in love with the most exciting man she’d ever known. And he hadn’t a clue.


They dined together on the veranda. As twilight fell, Bethanne felt as if she couldn’t hold so much happiness. The conversation was lively and fun. She wondered who else saw this side of the man.
“How come you aren’t married?” she asked at one point, wondering why some smart woman hadn’t latched on to him years ago.
The atmosphere changed in an instant. His demeanor hardened. “The woman I planned to marry ran off, remember?”
“Come on, you’re too dynamic and sexy to not have your share of women interested. How did no one capture your fancy?”
He was silent for so long Bethanne wondered what she’d said to cause the change. Wasn’t it all right to question his single state?
“I was engaged a long time ago,” he said slowly.
Oh, oh, she hadn’t seen that coming. “What happened?” No matter what, it couldn’t have a happy ending. She was bubbling with so much happiness, she wanted him to share. Now her stupid comment had changed the evening. She wished she could recapture her words.
“She loved my money.”
“Ouch.”
“I should have seen it coming.” He looked at her. “All her conversation centered on things and trips. I was the gold at the end of her rainbow.”
“She might have loved you as well?” she offered.
He shook his head. “When my father bought her off, she left like a fire exploding at the rigs. I haven’t heard from her since.”
Bethanne didn’t know what to say. Her heart hurt for the pain of betrayal he must have felt.
“How about you? You’re not married,” he said a moment later.
“I’m footloose and fancy free. I don’t see settling down when there is the entire world to see. Working with Starcraft, I get the chance to explore places I haven’t been.” Besides, I have never fallen in love before, she thought, watching him. And I don’t expect to find another like you.
“You don’t see yourself settling down, making a family?” he asked.
“If I meet the right guy, I guess I would,” she said. “If he loved me in return.” For too long she’d considered herself like her father—too interested in the wide world to settle for one spot. Now that she met Rashid, she sure didn’t feel that way. She’d traveled to every continent on the globe. Made friends in various places. Yet nothing drew her like Rashid. Maybe that was the difference falling in love made.


Rashid nodded, wondering why he cared if she settled down or not. He was not interested in marriage. He’d agreed to the scheme with Haile as a business move. Her defection saved him. He would be grateful to her on two counts—keeping him single, and introducing Bethanne into his life.
She was different from women he knew. That was the novelty of being around her. Soon the novelty would fade and he’d move on. He didn’t want to think like a cynic, but he had no expectations of falling in love. He wanted Bethanne, liked being with her. But surely there was more to love than that.
She was a refreshing break from the routine of his life. One he didn’t want to end too soon. It didn’t hurt that she was so pretty. He enjoyed watching her. Or taking her to events. She looked relaxed and pleased with life in the blue dress she wore. He would love to adorn her with jewels, but she’d carefully returned the sapphire necklace once they returned to the villa after the polo dinner. He’d offered for her to keep the necklace, but she’d refused.
He should have told Khalid that. Maybe knowing Bethanne better, he’d realize his assessment was off. She wanted nothing personal from this charade. She was almost too good to be true. But he’d seen no sign of avarice in her.
He stared out across the garden, wondering about Hasid’s comments to her. The old man couldn’t know more about Hank than he did. Hank had worked for his father. In the morning he’d have his assistant find out more about the wild story the man had told Bethanne.
“I need to fly to Morocco on Friday to sign the contract.”
She sipped her coffee before nodding. “Then I’ll ask for a few more days of vacation so I can stay a bit longer,” she replied.
He was pleased she agreed to stay. Maybe he’d take time from work and spend it all with Bethanne before she left for good.
The thought of her departure weighed heavily. Yet he knew better than she that there was no long-term future for them together. His family would never accept the daughter of a thief—moreover the one whose actions contributed to his father’s death. She didn’t speak his language. He didn’t want a wife. And he would not dishonor her by having an affair. Time together, memories made, then goodbye.
His gaze shifted to her as she sipped the hot tea. She loved flying. And he couldn’t see asking her to stop. It was a novelty to have her fly his plane. Maybe he could hire her to fly for him—his private pilot. That way she’d always be around. And when he needed to travel, Bethanne would travel with him.
“After Morocco we could fly on to Paris, if you like,” he said. He knew women around the world loved Paris.
“That would be nice.”
“You don’t sound as excited as I thought you’d be.”
“I haven’t seen Paris with you. That would make it special,” she said slowly. “I enjoyed our excursion into the western part of your country. Maybe another trip there?”
“Quraim Wadi Samil? It’s hardly a hot spot. Not a place we would have gone had Alexes not needed immediate medical attention.”
She faced him. “It hardly matters where we go, if we’re together, don’t you think?”
He wanted her as he had wanted no other woman. Not even Marguerite. But caution held him back.
“It doesn’t matter, as long as we’re together,” he said, already regretting the day they would say goodbye.




Barbara McMahon's books