Desert Rogues Part 2. Susan Mallery

would the State Department want with her?

      She gave them the once-over and decided to let them in. Her Dallas suburb was safe, quiet and ordinary. No doubt these men had the wrong person. Once they straightened that out, they would be on their way.

      “Come on in,” she said, inserting her key in the lock.

      They followed her into the smallish living room. It was already dusk, so she turned on both floor lamps and the light in the hall, then motioned to her sofa.

      “Have a seat,” she said as she plopped down in the club chair opposite.

      As she set her purse on the floor, she noticed several stains on the front of her brightly patterned scrub shirt. The pale green pants were also dotted and streaked. Occupational hazard, she reminded herself.

      Alex perched on the edge of her sofa, while the other gentleman stood by the sliding glass door.

      “Ms. Kennedy, we’re here at the behest of the king of Bahania.”

      Alex kept on talking, but Emma was too caught up in the word behest. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard someone say it in normal speech. It was more of a book word. Then the rest of the sentence sunk in.

      “Wait a minute,” she said, holding up her hand. “Did you say the king of Bahania?”

      “Yes, ma’am. He contacted the State Department and asked that we locate you and then offer you an official invitation to visit his country.”

      Emma laughed. Oh, sure. Because that sort of thing happened all the time. “Are you guys selling something? Because if you are, you’re wasting your time.”

      “No, ma’am. We’re from the State Department, and we’re here—”

      She cut him off with a wave. “I know. At the behest. I got that part. You have the wrong person. I’m sure there’s another Emma Kennedy floating around who has lots of personal contact with His Royal Highness, but it’s not me.”

      She looked at her modest apartment. If only, she thought humorously. Maybe a small money grant or two could have taken care of her student loans. And she desperately needed new tires for her ten-year-old import. Oh, well. In her next life she would be rich. In this one she was just a single woman struggling to pay the bills.

      Alex pulled a piece of paper out of his outer jacket pocket. “Emma Kennedy,” he read, then went on to list her birth date, place of birth, her parents’ names and the number on her passport. A passport she’d had since she was eighteen, young, innocent and foolish and had thought…Well, she’d thought a lot of things.

      “Just a second,” she said, and rose to walk into her bedroom.

      Her passport was tucked in the back of her sock drawer. She pulled it out and returned to the living room where she had Alex read the number again. It matched.

      “This is creepy,” she said. “Look, I don’t know the king of Bahania. I’m not sure I could find Bahania on the map. There really has to be some kind of mistake. What would he want with me?”

      “You are to be his guest for the next two weeks.” Alex stood and smiled. “There’s a private jet standing by to take you to his country. Ms. Kennedy, Bahania is a valuable ally in the Middle East. Like their neighbor, El Bahar, they are considered the Switzerland of that region. These progressive countries offer a haven of peace and economic stability in a troubled part of the world. They also provide a significant percentage of our country’s oil.”

      Emma might have only taken one political science class at college, but she wasn’t stupid. She got the message. When the king of Bahania invited a young Texas nurse to vacation in his country for a couple of weeks, the United States government expected her to go.

      Was she being kidnapped?

      The idea was both insane and terrifying.

      “You can’t make me go,” she said, more to hear the words than because she believed them. She had a feeling that Alex and his friend could make her do just about anything.

      “You’re correct. We would not force you to accept the king’s invitation. However, your country would be most grateful if you would consider granting him this request.” He smiled. “You’ll be perfectly safe, Ms. Kennedy. The king is an honorable man. You’re not being sold into a harem.”

      “The thought never crossed my mind,” she told him hotly, even though it had. Sort of.

      A harem? Her? Not on this planet. Men didn’t find her especially appealing, and she…Well, she avoided matters of the heart. She’d fallen in love once and it had been a complete disaster.

      “This is a great honor,” Alex said. “As a personal guest of the king, you’ll be staying at the famed pink palace. It is quite extraordinary.”

      Emma walked back to her chair and sank down. “Can we stop for a second and reflect on the reality missing from this situation? I’m a nurse. I deliver babies for a living. Unless the king has a pregnant wife or something, why on earth would he be interested in me? I’m assuming if you know my passport number, you also know I’ve only been out of the country once and that was six years ago. I live a quiet life. I’m boring. You have the wrong person.”

      Alex’s good cheer didn’t waiver. “Two weeks, Ms. Kennedy. Is that so much to ask? Those volunteering for military service give much more.”

      Oh, darn the man. He was going for guilt. She really didn’t like that. Her parents had been experts at it and she hated the sense of having disappointed anyone.

      “I’ll accompany you to Bahania,” Alex continued. “To assure your safe arrival. Once you’re settled, I’ll return to Washington.” He paused. “You’re being given a wonderful opportunity, Ms. Kennedy. I hope you’ll consider it. If we can leave for the airport in the next hour, we will be in Bahania by sunset tomorrow.”

      Her mind swirled. “You want me to go with you right now?”

      “Please.”

      Emma glanced from Alex to his friend by the sliding glass door. She had a bad feeling that if she refused, she would be taken against her will. Not exactly thoughts to warm her heart. It looked as if she were going on a trip.

      

      Two and a half hours later, Emma found herself sitting on a luxurious private jet as the lights of Dallas disappeared below. She had a large suitcase in the cargo bay, a small overnight case next to her feet and, as promised, Alex Dunnard in the seat across from hers.

      She still wasn’t sure how it had all happened. Somehow Alex had gently ushered her through the process of calling the hospital for time off, packing and leaving a message for her parents that she’d gone away with a friend. The white lie had been his suggestion, made so that her parents wouldn’t worry.

      Then she’d showered, changed and found herself in a limo the size of a football field. Now she was on a plane and sitting in leather seats so soft and comfy, she wouldn’t mind having the material made into a jacket.

      On the bright side, if she was being kidnapped, it was by someone with money and style. The downside was that she’d managed to put her entire life on hold for two weeks with exactly two phone calls and a request that her neighbor pick up her mail. What did that say about her world?

      Before she could decide, a uniformed young woman approached. “Ms. Kennedy, I’m Aneesa and it will be my pleasure to serve you on our flight to Bahania.”

      Aneesa rattled off the expected flying time, mentioned a stop for gas in Spain and offered selections for dinner.

      “When you’re ready to retire for the evening,” she continued, “there is a sleeping compartment for your use.” She smiled. “Along with a bathroom, complete with shower.”

      “That’s great,” Emma told her, trying to sound calm. As if this sort of thing happened to her all the time.

      “Shall