Page 59 of Queen of Barrakesch
Could her abduction be related to the conservative factions in the government who didn’t want Wasim to marry her in the first place? The ones who thought his programs were too progressive and his actions reckless? Were they making demands in exchange for her release? Not knowing was driving her crazy.
Imani lowered onto her side in the dark room and curled on the cot with her back pressed against the brick wall. She wasn’t cold, but that position made her feel protected. She deduced that she was somewhere in the older part of the country because of the design of the room, illuminated by the street light coming in the single window at the top of the far wall.
At least they’d removed the rope from her wrists. She placed a hand on her belly, thinking for a moment about the baby that grew inside her. Thinking about how excited she and Wasim had been the day before.
Did he know where she was? Would he come get her soon?
She had no idea what time it was or how long she had been there, but the stressful nature of her predicament had worn her out. Her eyes fluttered closed. She only hoped that she would not be there much longer. These men were kind now, but what would happen if they didn’t get whatever it was they wanted?
She fell into an uneasy sleep, one filled with dreams of men on horseback, icy eyes, and stinging pain to the neck that knocked her unconscious.
A loudboomstartled her awake. Her eyes flew open, and she held her breath as the entire building trembled. She heard yelling and gunshots. Then quiet.
Her eyes darted around the room. Natural light came through the window, so it must be morning. Just after dawn was what she assumed.
Tense, she strained her ears, listening for the next sounds to let her know what was going on.
Shouting.
Male voices.
Then, “Your Excellency, wait!”
Another voice, achingly familiar and filled with anxiety. “Imani!”
“Wasim?” she whispered.
As she sat up on the cot, the lock disengaged, and the door burst open. She instinctively shrank into the corner until she saw the person in the doorway. Itwashim! Wasim stood for a moment at the door, wearing the same clothes she’d seen him in when she left for the airport. His hair was uncombed, there were bags under his eyes, and yet he’d never been more beautiful to her.
“Wasim!” She whispered his name again as relief flooded through her.
He rushed over and dropped to his knees to the concrete floor. He pulled her into his arms and she clung to his neck.
Four men dressed in military gear and carrying guns piled into the room behind him. When they saw that only she and Wasim were in there, two remained and the other two darted out, probably going to find more of her captors.
“Are you hurt?” Wasim ran his hands carefully down her arms, checking for injury.
Imani shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He took her hands and stared at the bruises the rope left on her wrists. “Youarehurt,” he said, voice grim, lips tight.
“They’re just bruises. It’s nothing.”
“They arenotnothing.” Angry fire flared to life in his copper-brown eyes. There would be dire consequences for the men who’d taken her.
He stood and lifted her into his arms, holding her against his chest as if she were the most precious, delicate thing.
Imani had held strong the entire time, but cradled in Wasim’s arms, she allowed herself to relax. In his comforting arms, all her fears disappeared and she became confident that everything would be okay now.
She didn’t have to be strong anymore, and she clung to his neck and hid her face against his throat. A tear squeezed from between her eyelids as he marched with her out the door and she listened to him bark orders in Arabic.
She and her baby were fine. Wasim was here and their ordeal—though short-lived—was finally over.
* * *
Two doctorsand a nurse waited at the palace when Imani arrived and examined her in the private clinic. After they confirmed she and the baby were fine, she took a long bath and soaked in warm water filled with oils that moisturized her skin and filled the room with scents that helped her relax.
Afterward, feeling normal enough to eat, she consumed a plate of eggs, toast, fruit, and several glasses of orange juice. Wasim watched her as she ate. He didn’t speak. He simply stared.
