Page 14 of The Sheikh's Secret Family

Tariq stepped off the stage and into the crowd of his former classmates. He was hardly paying attention to their congratulations, though.

Before he’d gone to give his speech, he’d spotted Emelia across the room. She’d been just as gorgeous as she was in college, though she was different, too. She was wearing a green dress that perfectly complemented her wavy brown hair, which had been up in a sophisticated twist with a few strands loose to frame her face. She’d looked a bit nervous, but still beautiful and elegant. Tariq had wanted nothing more than to run to her, but instead he’d gone to give his speech and lost sight of her. Just now, he’d seen her again, but she’d answered a call and turned to leave.

Tariq tried to follow her to the doors, wanting to catch her for at least a moment. His bodyguard, Hamid, followed close behind. Why was Emelia leaving now? Did she not want to talk to him? Tariq wouldn’t blame her, but he also couldn’t stand to leave things this way. No way was he going to leave Boston without seeing her again, without talking to her.

By the time he reached the doors, though, Tariq had been stopped by about twenty people who wanted to ask questions about his speech or about what it was like to be a sheikh. It was a crowd of people only interested in him for his money and his status all over again. Never before had Tariq been more desperate to see a familiar face. By the time he escaped into the cool night air, Emelia was nowhere to be seen.

Tariq turned to Hamid, who had emerged from the crowded hall a moment after Tariq had. “Did you see that woman? In the pale green dress?”

“With brown hair and green eyes?” Hamid asked. “The one you were following?”

Tariq nodded, not even bothering to deny that he had practically been stalking the woman. “That’s the one. Her name is Emelia Parker. Can you find out where she’s staying?”

Hamid didn’t hesitate. He nodded once, then reentered the building like a soldier breaching a house full of enemy combatants. Tariq was left standing outside. It was a chilly, late fall night, but Tariq hardly noticed. All he could think about was Emelia. He’d wondered what she looked like now and what she might be doing, but mostly he’d tried to keep her out of his mind. Now she had been here, almost close enough to touch, and Tariq had let her slip away. His heart felt like it was squeezed too tightly.

What if he never got to see Emelia again? What if the glimpse he’d had of her slipping out, phone pressed to her ear, was the last he’d ever get to see of her? And who had called? Was it someone from work, needing something done urgently? Worse, was it her boyfriend?

Tariq tried to quiet his mind, but he felt like he was spinning with questions. A glance at his watch showed that Hamid had already been gone for fifteen minutes. What if no one knew where Emelia was staying? What if she had already left town? What if it was too late?

“Sir, I have the address.”

Tariq turned to see that Hamid was back, holding a piece of paper in his hand. He passed the paper to Tariq, who looked down at the street name and number. From his time here years ago, he thought he knew where it was.

“Let’s go,” he said. Hamid followed as they started off towards the parking lot, his trained gaze sweeping the street for anything suspicious.

“Sir, if I may ask, who is this woman?” Hamid asked, hurrying to get ahead of Tariq so that he could unlock the car.

“Someone I knew a long time ago,” Tariq said, trying to control his impatience. “How did you get the address?”

Hamid performed a quick safety check on the car, checking for tampering or an intruder, before answering. Tariq waited, tapping his foot impatiently, until Hamid gave the all-clear. He’d once gotten into a car before Hamid had checked it and the lecture he’d received from his usually mild-mannered bodyguard was enough to convince Tariq never to do that again. Even when it felt like his whole life depended on finding Emelia.

“I asked one of the administrators,” Hamid said. “The one who handled your speech. I thought she’d have to look her up in their alumni database, but it turned out that she knew this woman. Emelia Parker.”

“How did they know each other?” Tariq asked, trying to still his tapping foot as Hamid went through his last few safety checks inside the car and entered the address into the navigation system.

“Ms. Parker works for Stonebridge,” Hamid said. “She’s an administrator for the school.”

Tariq blinked in surprise. Emelia was an administrator? That didn’t fit at all with her dreams. And it meant that she was probably living in Boston, not just visiting for the reunion. Why had she decided to stay? Why wasn’t she off traveling like she’d planned?

“How far away is the house?” he asked, glancing at the navigation system. “It’s close, right?”

“Maybe a ten- or fifteen-minute drive,” Hamid said. Finally, he pulled out of the parking space and they turned onto a main road.

Tariq watched as the college buildings turned into apartment blocks and convenience stores, his heart pounding. He almost wished that Hamid would say something else, maybe to ask him about this American woman who he so desperately needed to see, but Hamid didn’t. He just drove.

Tariq wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. A house, maybe. With a garden and a porch, like Emelia had always admired on their walks. But he definitely hadn’t been expecting a slightly run-down gray apartment building with peeling paint and a small square of wilted and weedy lawn in the front.

“Are you sure this is it?” he asked, squinting to read the number in the glow of the streetlights. Something felt wrong. Very wrong.

“Yes, sir.” Hamid looked a bit taken aback too, although he was hiding it better than Tariq probably was.

Tariq felt his heart constrict further. He couldn’t imagine Emelia living here. He didn’t want to. What had happened?

Very slowly, Tariq got out of the car. “What apartment?” he asked, one foot on the sidewalk and the other still in the car.

“Number twenty-six,” Hamid said. He was getting out of the car, too, and Tariq held up a hand to stop him.

“You stay here.”

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