Page 24 of Hiding in the Sheik's Arms

However, his gut whispered that there was more to the story.

She was now typing something on that infernal tablet she constantly carried. Suddenly, he felt a buzzing on his hip. Pulling out his phone, he checked the message.

“Pay attention to Mr. Koons. He’s under a great deal of pressure to explain what happened to you. After you leave, the whole village will ask him about you. The villagers will need to be reassured that you’re concerned.”

Khal stuffed his phone back into his pocket, trying not to chuckle at the little dictator’s message. But she was right. Asalways. He had been looking at Tasha and not at the station manager.

He continued to work through the details of what he knew about Tasha, but he pretended to be interested in the details of the explosion investigation. He already suspected that this wasn’t a political act. And it wasn’t a terrorist action either. So, what the hell was going on? Why had someone created an explosion that didn’t damage anything, didn’t halt electrical production, and didn’t fatally injure anyone?

As Khal bent down with Mr. Koons as he explained something about burn markings and the way that fire and water both traveled via the path of least resistance, something Khal already knew, he wondered about the reasoning behind this attack.

A cold sensation washed over him. What if this attack had been an effort to get him out into the open? The palace security was tight, he knew. There wasn’t another area in the country that was as secure. Not even the power plants…! He stopped and looked around.

Not even the power plants had the same level of security, he mentally finished.

His phone buzzed. While Mr. Koons bent down to pull something out through a door, Khal read the next message. He knew it would be from Tasha.

“Ask about current power capacity for the villagers and how long it will take to get the repairs done. Then tell him that you need to speak with the people that were hurt. We’re running five minutes behind schedule.”

Khal paused to shoot a glare at her. Why was she standing towards the back of the crowd? She should be near him. Right by his side, in fact.

Even as he thought it, Tasha carefully shook her head, telling him that she wasn’t going to be by his side. Then she started typing again.

“The focus needs to be on you, Your Highness. If I come forward, the conversations will be speculation about our relationship. Trust me on this. I’m better out of the spotlight.”

Now that was an interesting statement, he thought as he slid his phone back into his pocket. Mr. Koons was talking about something else and Khal focused, asking several more questions. He didn’t hurry this time, knowing that the delay would irritate Tasha. He needed his little dictator to be slightly off balance so that, when he asked her questions, she would be too flustered to prevaricate.

Finally, the tour of the facility came to an end. Khal suspected that Tasha had signaled to someone who had then signaled to Mr. Koons. Extending his hand, Khal shook the station manager’s hand. “Thank you for such a detailed explanation of the problem. Please let my staff know if there is anything more that we can do to help.”

Mr. Koons looked as if he were about to swoon as he tentatively shook Khal’s hand. Someone must have told the man that he shouldn’t shake Khal’s hand, that it would violate protocols or some other ridiculous rule. But Khal had always thought that idea wrong. Shaking hands formed a mental connection in each person’s mind. It was one of the reasons so many politicians shook voters’ hands. Because it worked.

Turning, he caught Tasha’s stunned expression as well and, just because he was in a mood to rile her, he winked at her. Immediately, he caught her blush and swallowed a chuckle.

At the hospital, he did the same. With every person who had been wounded, he shook their hands and listened totheir stories. He hugged wives and reassured everyone that their government was standing behind them, that they would be protected, and additional security measures would be put in place to ensure everyone’s safety.

Back in the helicopter that would return them to the palace, Tasha sat across from him, the sounds of the helicopter blades muted by the insulating walls. They didn’t even need headphones and a microphone to communicate.

“You were a huge hit, Your Highness,” Tasha said, smoothing her slacks down over her knees. “Everyone loved you.”

“I’m a very lovable person,” he grumbled, smothering a smile. Why the hell was he smiling so much today? “I’m not a grouchy bear.” Khal announced, then laughed out loud at her surprised expression. “What? You didn’t think I knew what people call me behind my back?”

Tasha shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I just…I thought that you only read the news reports I gave you.”

“No, I have other sources of information, my dear.”

“That’s disappointing,” she grumbled.

“I don’t ever want to be as isolated as Father was. I firmly believe that every ruler should have multiple sources of information so that no one gains too much influence over me.”

She grinned and Khal was stunned by the impact that simple expression had on him. It was like he’d just stuck his finger into a light socket!

“I think that’s admirable, Your Highness.”

He growled. “When we get back to the palace, we’re going to have a conversation about the various forms of address you will be allowed to use going forward.”

Her smile faded and she appeared nervous. “About…that,” she started, only to stop and look around. When she realized his bodyguards were within hearing distance, she stopped. “We’ll talk about it later,” she finished, unconsciously pursing her lips like a demure librarian.

He knew exactly what she wanted to discuss. The kiss! He wanted to talk about it as well, but his conversational goal was most likely different from hers.

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