Page 1 of Forty Days and One Knight
Prologue
“What the hell do you mean Princess Tahira’s been kidnapped?” Ian Sawyer barked into the phone. Sitting at her desk in front of him, Colleen Helm’s eyes grew wide. Then, proving she’d become a efficient office manager since starting at Trident Security almost three years ago, she used a texting program on her computer to send a message demanding all available operatives to report to the firm’s compound.
“Exactly what I said,” responded Mousaf Amar, head of security for the royal family of Timasur, a small country in Northern Africa. “The princess left the cruise ship and went ashore at Montego Bay, Jamaica, with her two cousins and two members of her security detail. They rented an SUV to take them to a waterfall about an hour away from the port, and that was about six hours ago. I just received word my men were found shot to death next to their rental in the park’s lot. Princess Tahira, Lahana, and Nala are missing.
“It seems they were getting ready to leave the park about two hours ago when they were attacked. The guards’ weapons and IDs were taken, but the police were able to identify them through fingerprints and the rental agreement. They contacted us as soon as they realized what they were dealing with. According to their investigation so far, no gunshots were heard and there are no witnesses.”
“Suppressors—that means they were hit by professionals; more than one if they were able to get the drop on your men.” The royal security teams were highly skilled men, and Ian had seen them in action on more than one occasion during training exercises.
He strode purposely into the war-room where Nathan Cook, one of Trident’s two resident tech geeks, was sitting in front of his massive console. The man looked up with his eyebrows raised, and Ian used a finger to silently tell him to hang on a sec. “So, we have no idea who took them or where they might be.”
“No, we don’t. There has been no ransom demand and no one claiming responsibility. If Her Royal Highness or her cousins could contact us, they would have. I need your help, my friend. I’m on my way from Timasur, but you can get a team there faster.”
“What’s the name of the falls they were at?”
“Dunn’s River Falls and Park.”
Ian repeated the name to Nathan. “Get me eyes there, pronto. I doubt there are any decent security cameras around but check anyway. Patch into the traffic cams and any at the airports and marinas. Find out if any satellites have images from four to five hours ago over that park. Princess Tahira is missing, probably kidnapped. Run her picture through the imaging software. Find her—now!”
Leaving the former NSA employee to do what he did best, Ian headed to the conference room, with the phone still to his ear. “I’ll get boots on the ground as soon as possible. Do you have a contact with the police?”
“Inspector Jamal Lewis is the man in charge. Lahana’s brother, Farid, and his friend were supposed to be chaperoning the women during the trip, but they didn’t want to go to the falls and were to meet up with them afterward for a late lunch. They haven’t heard from the women either.”
Filing that bit of information in his head for later, Ian jotted down the name of the inspector on a scrap piece of paper. “I’ll contact you as soon as I have any information. What time do you expect to land?”
“In approximately ten hours at Sangstar International. I have five men with me.”
“I’ll have cars waiting for you. We’ll get her back, Amar.” Disconnecting the call, Ian shouted to be heard out in the reception area. “Colleen, call CC and tell him to get his ass to the airport—taking off in less than an hour, heading to Montego Bay, Jamaica!”
“On it!”
Knowing the company’s pilot would have their private jet ready to go as soon as possible, Ian sat back in his chair and ran a hand down his face. All available personnel would be arriving shortly, but it would be a mix of both teams. Brody Evans, Trident’s other computer geek and one of seven retired Navy SEALs who were now co-owners of the company, was returning from his honeymoon too late that evening to come with them. Two more co-owners, Marco DeAngelis and Ben Michaelson, were on a joint-task force assignment with operatives from Deimos, a US-government, black-ops agency most people didn’t even know existed. Darius Knight, Lindsey Abbott, and Valentino Mancini, from the Omega Team, were down in Argentina on an undercover op. So that left Nick Donovan, the youngest Sawyer brother, his husband, Jake Donovan, Tristan McCabe, Cain Foster, and Kip Morrison available to fly down to Jamaica with Ian. His other brother, Devon, and Logan Reese would have to stay behind and hold down the fort in Tampa.
Ian hoped to God they’d be able to figure out who’d kidnapped the princess and the others. While he’d been helping to protect the royal family for several years, it wasn’t until he and his wife Angie had gotten engaged and accepted an invitation from King Rajeemh and Queen Azhar to visit them in Timasur’s capital city of Diado, that he’d gotten to know Tahira better. She’d matured over the past two years and, although she still liked to drive her bodyguards nuts with shopping sprees and flirting with the ones who were single, she no longer acted like a spoiled child. She’d even gotten involved in charity work. Last year, the princess and her brother, Prince Raj, had attended Ian and Angie’s wedding. Their parents had been unable to join them due to Her Royal Majesty recovering from an illness.
Picking up the phone, Ian hit the speed dial to the small studio that’d recently been built on the west side of the TS compound. Angie, an artist, and Devon’s wife, Kristen, an author, had moved their workstations into it, getting them out of their respective apartments for a few hours each day. The other buildings housed the Trident offices, a gym and indoor shooting range, and The Covenant, a BDSM club owned by Ian, Devon, and their cousin Mitch.
As he waited for the call to be picked up, he let out a heavy sigh. His pregnant wife was going to flip when he told her about Tahira, but since he’d just gotten back in her good graces, Ian wasn’t going to keep it a secret from her. She’d divorce him if he did. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
1
Five hours earlier…
Sitting between Nala and Lahana, in the backseat of the SUV her bodyguards had rented, Tahira tried to relax and enjoy the excursion. That meant pushing her impending marriage from her mind, even just for a little while. She had forty days left ... forty days to choose a husband or her father would take the choice from her.
Up until her mother had been critically ill with renal failure last year, Tahira had always been told that it would be her decision who she chose to marry. That went against the generations of family members who’d all had their marriages arranged for them at a very young age—usually by their fifth birthday. The weddings had then taken place within weeks of the men turning eighteen, while most of the women were still a year or two younger. The way her mother had explained it to Tahira, her parents had barely known each other on their wedding day and neither had liked their chosen spouse at first. Over time, though, that all had changed, and by their first anniversary, they’d fallen in love. They’d also vowed not to force their future children into unwanted marriages, forgoing a century and a half of royal tradition. But then, six weeks ago, following her brother’s wedding, Tahira’s father had reneged on the decision he’d made years ago. He wanted her married while he and her mother were still alive to see it happen.
Tahira was convinced her soul mate was out there somewhere. She even sensed she’d met him already, but neither of them had yet realized they were destined for each other. Her maternal grandmother had what some referred to as “the sight,” the ability to see a person’s aura when others couldn’t, and, apparently, it had been passed down to Tahira. The problem was her grandmother had died a few days before Tahira’s fourth birthday, so there hadn’t been anyone close to her that could help develop her gift as she’d grown older. What she did learn about it had been by wading through countless websites and blogs over the years, trying to figure out what was false information versus what was truth. While she didn’t understand all of what she saw in other people’s auras, she’d learned how to interpret many of the varying energy fields surrounding them. Every person was different, with some of their colors changing with their mood or experiences. Myriad shades of the primary and secondary hues of the rainbow meant different things. The color red surrounding a person could mean strength, anger, tenacity, passion, and sensuality, among other things, while pink represented love, deep friendship, compassion, and an appreciation of beauty. It had been a combination of pink, red, and a few subtler colors that’d helped her realize one of her Trident Security bodyguards, Brody Evans, had met his future wife about a year ago. While he’d known he was attracted to Fancy, he hadn’t yet figured out she’d been “the one” his heart had been made for when Tahira had read his aura. That had since changed, and the couple was now married and expecting their first child. Tahira was thrilled for them.
Occasionally, she came across people whose auras she couldn’t read. Ian Sawyer was one of them, and so was Mousaf Amar, the head of the royal guard. There were also times when she misinterpreted a person’s colors. When Tahira had reached the age of eighteen, and had gained more freedom, she’d researched many healers who’d mastered the talent of reading auras. When she’d found one who was willing to be her mentor, she’d often invited him to visit the palace to tutor her. Knowing Tahira had inherited her mother’s gift, Queen Azhar had encouraged her to learn what she could, despite the beliefs of some people who thought it was nothing but nonsense.
“What about this one? Iggi Kwei—he’s a good-looking doctor.” Nineteen-year-old Nala showed her cousins the profile photo of one of the potential Timasurian husbands that had been posted in a private Facebook group.
Tahira glanced at the photo. While the doctor was a handsome man, she wasn’t drawn to him in any way. Most marriages were arranged in their country, with dowries being offered in exchange for the bride’s hand. In some instances, couples never met prior to their engagement parties. Tahira had seen several of her friends married off to men who were not ideal mates. More than one of them were in abusive marriages, but none would admit it. To do so would be an insult to their husband and both their families. Tahira had hoped that by being allowed to choose her own spouse, it would encourage other parents to allow their children to do the same. While her brother, Raj, had chosen his wife, it would be viewed in a completely different manner if Tahira chose her husband. Raj had also been in love with his bride and proposed before his father had decided to reverse the edict his children had grown up with. Their impending engagement and wedding had just been earlier than the couple had expected—their nuptials had been a huge affair with citizens of the small country, and beyond, lining the streets to get a glimpse of the happy couple. Now that they were husband and wife, King Rajeemh had turned his attention to making sure his only daughter wed soon.
Being the second born, Tahira never expected to ascend to the throne. Her father was in his mid-fifties, and Raj was twenty-eight, two-and-a-half years older than his only sibling. Both men were very healthy and didn’t participate in any risky activities that might cut short their lives. While there was a remote chance something could happen to both of them before Raj and his wife, Princess Kainda, produced an heir, it was highly unlikely, and, for that, Tahira was grateful. She was loyal to her country but did not want to rule it. Politics and international relations were not aspirations she was interested in. She was content to be involved in charity work to help improve social situation of Timasurians who had not been born to privilege. Part of the work that she loved to do was visit the children’s hospitals. She loved seeing the little ones’ faces light up in delight when they realized Her Royal Highness was there to see them. Tahira could spend hours interacting with them and often hated to see the day end when she had to say goodbye.
She shrugged and looked out the window at the passing countryside. “I would rather enjoy my day instead of picking a husband I am not in love with.”
