and slammed the car to a stop.
Saafir slid his gun back into his holster. He turned to the driver who was staring at Nibal. He had shoved the body against the window.
“I will drive us to the hospital,” Saafir said. Of the four of them, he was in the best position. His arm ached, but he didn’t feel light-headed and he wasn’t losing a massive amount of blood or in a state of shock. Saafir stroked Sarah’s hair by her temple. “You will be safe, my goddess. Hold on a little longer. Help is coming.”
Adham situated himself to hold a hand over Sarah’s arm. Saafir withdrew his phone and called the American police to meet him at the hospital. On American turf, he’d play by their rules.
“We’re almost there, Sarah. Stay with me,” Saafir said, taking the wheel and praying for Sarah and Adham.
The moment Sarah awoke, she knew she was in a hospital. A heart rate monitor beeped rhythmically. Her left arm was restrained and covered in heavy bandages. It took her a few seconds to remember what had happened. She had been speaking with Barr in the alley outside the first trade summit meeting. Not Barr. Saafir, the emir of Qamsar. His big, brawny guard, Adham, had been lurking in the doorway. Then, she had been pinned behind a Dumpster as the sound of gunfire exploded around her.
Thanks to the emir of Qamsar, she was alive.
She opened her eyes and saw Owen’s concerned face. Owen leapt to his feet. “Jeez, Sarah, you scared about three decades off my life. What the hell happened in that alley?”
Sarah struggled to sit. She felt groggy and tired. She pressed the button on her bed to raise the back of the hospital bed. Her entire left arm was numb. “I remember to a point, than it goes hazy.”
A long pause. “There are reporters everywhere. What do I need to know about this?”
She wasn’t hiding anything. She wasn’t sure she fully understood his question. “I don’t know anything more than you. How is Saafir? I mean, the emir?”
Owen shot her a curious look. “The hospital won’t release details, but a spokesperson for the emir said he is in good health. Given the political environment in Qamsar, there’s nothing else they could say. The leader of their country being down and out opens the door for a coup and could cause a revolution. How are you feeling?” Owen added quickly.
“I’m a little worse for wear,” she said. When the pain medication wore off, she guessed she’d be in a great deal of pain. “What’s wrong with my arm?” She couldn’t see anything under the mass of bandages.
“You were grazed by a bullet that hit a large vein. You’ve got a lot of healing to do,” Owen said. His face was grim. “I don’t want you to worry about anything except getting better. There’s a bunch of crap in the news. You’ve been named as the emir’s lover, the emir’s mistress and the emir’s American bride.”
Sarah groaned. “Already digging around for some lurid ties between us. Will this hurt the trade agreement?”
“Obviously, day one has been derailed,” Owen said. “I’ve communicated with every member of the committee and their staff to alert them we might be dealing with a violent extremist. We’re organizing increased security measures and will implement them immediately. The emir could be the target, but how could they have known he’d step into the alley? This may have been an attack of opportunity. The target could be anyone on the committee. It’s too soon to know what the objective of the attack was.”
Though it wasn’t the most pressing concern, she worried about her future. “What about my job?” Sarah asked.
Owen touched her arm lightly. “Don’t worry about that. Worry about getting better.”
Anxiety made her feel sick. “Owen, no. Don’t blow me off. Don’t feed me a bunch of bull. If you’re planning to fire me, tell me now.”
He sighed. “Nothing has been decided. The contract is still yours. But Sarah, it’s not worth losing your life over this. I want you to consider stepping back.”
Sarah shook her head. Her marriage was over, her apartment was trashed, her personal life was being eviscerated by the press and her job was the one thing she had left. She needed the money and she needed the event for her resume. “I wasn’t the target. The emir was.”
“If you are not around the emir, you will be safe.”
She couldn’t back down or back away from this job. She needed it. She’d earned this opportunity and she might never get another like it. “I will be fine, Owen. Please don’t take this away from me.”
Owen sighed. “Until the police or FBI tell me differently, I am taking the threat as directed at us—all of us. If you get hurt again, I’ll hold myself responsible.”
“If I get hurt, I only hold the people shooting the guns responsible,” Sarah said.
Owen leaned forward in his chair. “May I ask you a personal question about you and the emir?”
Unease twisted through her. Sarah worked to keep her composure. Had she given away that something had transpired between her and Saafir? Owen was perceptive and the intimacy she and Saafir had shared had made a permanent impression on her. It could have been obvious to others. “Go ahead.”
“I thought I saw something between the two of you this morning. Have you spoken with the emir before today on more personal matters? Is there more to your relationship than you’ve led me to believe?” Owen asked.
His question was made more awkward by Owen being her former brother-in-law and her boss. She hadn’t wanted to speak of the night she and Saafir had spent together, especially not after learning of his connection to the trade agreement. In light of the shooting, was that information relevant? She didn’t want her life to be fodder for the gossip rags, but Owen was a friend. She could trust him. “I ran into the emir Saturday night in a bar. We talked.”
Owen was too much of a gentleman to push for details, but he could infer the rest. “You have a personal relationship with him.”
She supposed relationship was as good a word as any. “I didn’t know who he was,” Sarah said. “I was feeling bad about the divorce and he’s a tough guy to ignore.” In a crowded room, Saafir stood out head and shoulders above other men.
Owen was silent for a minute, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. When he spoke, the words came out slowly and carefully. “This is a good opportunity for us. You can talk to him. Find out what he’s thinking. Get a read on him to further negotiations. The faster we can get signatures on paper, the better.”
Sarah groaned. She was groggy from meds, but even in her half-addled state she knew this was a bad idea. “We’ve spent time together twice, including today when someone tried to assassinate him. I don’t think that puts our relationship into confidante status. I don’t have any pull over him.” She did not want to insert herself into a political negotiation.
“I’m not suggesting you pull him, I’m suggesting you do what you can for your country and be his friend. If anything relevant comes to your attention, you bring it to my attention.”
“I can’t
