Sovereign Sheriff. Cassie Miles

his sister, I have a deeper understanding of Amir than anyone else.”

      “When was the last time you saw him?”

      “It was eight or nine months ago. He was in the United States on business and spent a few days with me in Beverly Hills.” That time was a bit of a blur. “I was so busy starting law school that I wasn’t very attentive.”

      If she had been more alert, she might have picked up clues. It pained her to think that she might have missed something that could save her brother’s life.

      Jake asked, “What did you talk about?”

      They’d argued about her tabloid notoriety. Amir thought it was high time for her to settle down. When she’d said the same to him, he had seemed secretive. “I had a feeling about him. There was something different. Maybe he was involved with a woman.”

      “I don’t know your brother,” Jake said, “but I’ve seen how women react to the other COIN princes. I’m guessing that Amir had plenty of girlfriends.”

      “He has a reputation. Some refer to him as a black sheep. But it’s not true. My brother is nothing like our father. He was the great womanizer.”

      Her father had disappointed her in so many ways. She tried not to think about him, opening that door released a gush of regret. “My father had a great fondness for the American West. He often told us stories about cowboys and ranches.”

      “Maybe he spent time in the West,” Jake suggested.

      “As a young man, he came to the Rocky Mountains.” One of the few occasions when her father paid attention to her was when she was learning to ride. “He told me about cowgirls. How they could ride and use a rope as well as any man.”

      “And shoot,” Jake said. “Like Annie Oakley.”

      “Oh, yes. I watched the movie.” She’d loved the stories and the independent spirit of Western women. “I wanted to be like those cowgirls. Amir is nine years older than I am, but he would play cowboy with me.”

      “Did your father visit Wyoming?”

      “I’m not sure,” she said. “I was very young when he told me those stories.”

      “We can ask around,” Jake said. “Some of the old-timers might remember.”

      “A wonderful idea.”

      She noticed that he’d said “we.” He was including her in the investigation, and that was a step in the right direction. Everything was going her way. She’d work with Jake—a prospect that pleased her on several levels. They’d find Amir, and he’d be all right. There would be happy endings all around.

      The front door swung open. Sheik Efraim Aziz of Nadar strode into the living room.

      She braced herself for the impending storm.

       Chapter Six

      Efraim was different. Saida saw a huge change in the tall, dark, handsome sheik she’d known all her life. For one thing, he was dressed like a cowboy in jeans, a Western-cut shirt and casual jacket. Unbelievable! Efraim despised and distrusted everything American and had given her no end of grief about her decision to live in California. And here he was, looking like he’d sauntered in from a rodeo.

      His posture was still ramrod-straight and his black eyes burned with intensity, but his granite jaw was relaxed. He was somehow…gentler.

      She also observed a degree of animosity between Jake and Efraim as they exchanged tight-lipped nods. Instead of crossing the living room to shake hands, Jake stayed in his position beside the fireplace, and Efraim made no attempt to approach the sheriff.

      Instead, he came toward her. “Saida, when will you learn to listen to me? You should have stayed in Beverly Hills.”