For the past two nights she had gone to sleep with Abram’s arms around her, only to awaken with Tariq’s holding her. It was creating an intimacy she couldn’t seem to escape.
Restraining a frustrated sigh she turned back to him, her lips parting to comment on Abram’s absence when a hard, imperative knock sounded on the heavy, thick wood of the door.
Paige flinched with near violence, her heart jumping into her throat as her gaze flew to where Tariq was quickly folding a square of cloth over the device he had been working on and rising from the chair.
He pointed to the connecting door that led to his suite as he moved to it quickly.
He was leaving?
“Where are you going?” she hissed.
“I’ll be listening,” he promised quickly, his voice so low as to be nearly silent. “See who it is, and don’t let them know I’m here.”
He handed her the scarf that Abram had given her in case Azir showed up to use over her head and around her neck as a hijab.
The knock sounded again, harder, and this time, more impatient.
“Who is it?” she called out as she quickly secured the scarf around her head as Abram had taught her.
“It is Jafar, Paige. I have someone here who wishes to see you.” His voice came through the door quietly.
font color="#000000">Dammit, where the hell was Abram?
“Abram isn’t here, Jafar,” she stated from the seam of the door and frame. “He told me not to open the door to anyone.”
She heard Jafar’s laughter through the heavy wood. “Put your scarf on and simply open the door. I do not intend to enter the room.”
She looked to where Tariq watched from the doorway of his suite. He nodded at her as she gave him a look of desperation and silently mouthed, “What do I do?”
He grimaced tightly before nodding again at her and disappearing into the other room.
Releasing the locks she opened the door several inches and stared at Jafar and the figure clothed in black from head to foot in the face and body covering usually only worn in the strictest of areas.
Behind the mesh screen of the burqa, feminine eyes stared back at her, though the shape and color were impossible to distinguish.
Behind the much smaller figure stood Jafar, as his odd, almost translucent pale green eyes watched her with knowing, mocking amusement.
Antagonism rose within her at the first sight of him and it was all she could do to keep her lips clamped closed.
“Such a look of anger.” He grinned at her, a brow arching in a move of such arrogance that for a second, he reminded her of Abram.
“Stop trying to make her angry, brother,” the feminine voice chided him with surprising tartness.
Paige’s gaze jerked back to the shrouded figure and struggled to peer behind the mesh eye covering.
“Chalah?” she whispered uncertainly, hopefully, though suspicion was blooming inside her.
“I told you she would remember me.” Soft laughter spilled from behind the dark covering. “Let me in, Paige, so I can get rid of my hulking brother, if you don’t mind.”
Paige’s eyes flicked to Jafar once again. How cruel of him to bring the sister who had once been her friend to betray her.
She eased back slowly, allowing the door to open as she kept a wary eye on Jafar. She trusted him even less now. It was incredibly obvious he was attempting to use the sister he had once seemed to adore.
The lies of the past were piling up on his head, and she hoped the weight of them buried him. Quickly.
“It’s about time.” Chalah all but bounced into te room as Paige closed the door in Jafar’s laughing face.
“I thought you were still in college,” Paige stated as she locked the door, her brows lifting as the burqa came off.
This was Chalah. White sneakers, her long legs just dark enough to give her a perpetually tanned look. Cutoff shorts and a snug camisole that shaped her full breasts and emphasized her tiny waist.
“All about covering yourself today, aren’t you there, Chalah?” she drawled.
Chalah rolled her eyes. “I hear the Matawa deserted this damned place about the same time the money left,” she snorted.
The Matawa, or religious police were the terror of any woman unlucky enough to draw their notice.
“How in the hell did you manage to get your ass in this situation?” Chalah propped her hands on her hips as she glared back at Paige.
Long black hair was confined in a thick heavy braid. Exotic, honey brown eyes, thickly lashed, were sparkling as her lips pursed in irritation.
“An argument with Khalid.” Paige admitted a truth she hadn’t even told Abram.
“It figures it was that oaf’s fault,” Chalah retorted as she crossed her arms over her breasts and tilted her head curiously. “Let me guess, he didn’t handle catching you in that tight, hot embrace with Abram very well? Did he scream incest?” She waggled her brows suggestively.
Paige stared back at her in surprise as she drew the scarf from her head and draped it over the back of the couch.
“How did you know about that?” she asked suspiciously.
She knew neither Khalid nor Marty would have told of the incident. To do so would have endangered Abram and further threatened Paige.
Chalah turned, glancing around the room before casting Paige an impish look from the corner of her eye.
“Where’s Abram?” she asked.
Paige shrugged. “He was gone when I awoke this morning. Now, tell me how you knew about Abram being at Khalid’s that night.”
Chalah shot her a dark look as she paced around the room as though looking for something. When she made her way back to Paige she shook her head, her expression pensive.
“Because Khalid either has one of Azir or Jafar’s spies, or a very gossipy employee on his payroll.” Chalah kept her voice low. “nd if you dare let anyone know I told you that, even Abram, then I may not survive long enough to return to the U.S. and finish my degree.”
Paige closed her eyes for a second before turning, her hand moving to rub at the side of her head wearily. Her temple throbbed with stress.
“Is it Abdul?” she asked as she turnd back, knowing it would break Khalid and Mary’s heart if it were the manservant betraying him.
“How simple would that be?” Chalah rolled her eyes expressively. “But, no such luck. I’m afraid all I know for sure is that it’s a female. A very vindictive one who’s either in the house or in the employ of the Conover security team. She’s been funneling information to the commander of the terrorist cell Ayid and Aman led for a while now.”
“I thought Jafar commanded those men,” Paige said as she watched the other girl suspiciously and wondered what the hell was going on.
Chalah gave a brief shake of her head as regret twisted her expression.
“No, Paige,” she whispered, her voice barely audible now. “Jafar has taken Ayid and Aman’s place as a mere leader, but they were never commanders. Even Jafar doesn’t know who the commander is, and he claims he enjoys living so he does not ask.”
Pain flashed in Chalah’s eyes at the admission of her brother actually being part of the cell.
“Does Jafar know anything about him?” Paige asked.
Chalah grimaced, grief flashing in her eyes.
“Jafar refused to discuss it with me,” she sighed. “After Anwar’s death he was so consumed with vengeance at first that discussing anything with him was impossible. Having him murdered as he was, and believing Azir was behind it consumed him.”
Anwar had been Jafar’s older brother by several years. A full brother that Jafar had idolized as a child. He had also been the heir to a third of the Mustafa province and had been petitioning the regime to reacquire the property with a vow that it would be run as the family of Mustafa had vowed to run it centuries before.