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Rashid pondered what he actually knew about Jacob's daughter, Victoria. His closest encounter with her had occurred accidentally when he visited Paris on a business trip the previous year. He'd been about to exit a limo in front of his hotel when his bodyguard insisted he delay until a small crowd blocking the entry dispersed. While waiting, he observed Victoria exit the hotel and negotiate the crowded entrance.
Recognizing her posed no problem. Jacob was proud of his daughter and not above sharing her picture when featured on the front cover of several prestigious magazines. Her aloof countenance and posture projected a woman not comfortable with the overtures of friendly, jostling tourists. Choosing her steps carefully, she'd skirted the group. Obvious was her caution not to touch or be touched. T
The brief encounter became a source of frequent irritation as, over time, her uninvited image invaded his consciousness at will. An irritating curiosity about her personal life persisted and chafed his thoughts. Other than a few facts gleaned from conversations with her father, he knew little. She was twenty-eight years of age, well-educated, unmarried, and lived independently of her father's household. Jacob had taken great pride in grooming her to function with equal status in a man's world. A vice-president in her father's financial firm, she was a woman accustomed to wielding power and authority.
He tried to envision such a woman in his life. No doubt, she would expect the same independence and equality in her marriage. A shudder of distaste rippled down his spine. As much as he wanted to help, his friend asked too much.
Rashid lifted his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I am sorry, Jacob, but I must refuse your request. The complication of such an agreement could never, I believe, be in the best interest of your daughter."
Jacob raised his chin. "On the contrary, this would provide what is immediately needed to guard Victoria's interests. As your wife, her property will automatically be perceived as being under your control. This will provide a quick and efficient solution to the threat hanging over her and a solution which you're uniquely positioned to grant."
Rashid moved to stand behind his chair. "I do not think you fully understand the enormous change this would cause your daughter. Change I am sure she would view as unacceptable. I doubt she could appreciate the customs or restrictions accepted by the women of my country. Here, I may be dressed as you. I may even adopt the courtesies of your culture. But, in Ahalamin, I live by the beliefs and traditions of my people. So will my wife."
Rashid stiffened as Jacob rose from his chair and walked toward him. He held his position as Jacob stopped a mere twelve inches in front of him, close enough that he could read the deep sorrow in his friend's eyes.
"This...is hard for me." Jacob placed a hand on Rashid's shoulder. "I love my daughter; she is all I have. I cannot leave her in this situation, unprotected and alone. I chose you because I know you to be a man of strength and integrity."
Rashid held his silence as Jacob struggled to fill his weakened lungs with needed air. A sudden wave of guilt shot through him for enjoying the best of health.
"You'll never harm her," Jacob continued. "Nor, I believe, will you allow anyone else to do so. She'll be safe with you." Jacob removed his hand from Rashid's shoulder and walked back to his chair. He eased into its supporting shape and rested his head against the high back. Fatigue made his voice raspy. "This marriage will give you the time needed to dispose of Victoria's property in whatever way you see fit. Then, under your law, I believe a divorce is an easy thing for you to execute. You will be free of any further obligation to Victoria, and she can get on with her life without threat of harm."
Rashid folded his arms across his chest. Jacob's words were disturbing. How could a father fight to protect his daughter's safety but care so little for her dignity? Did he not comprehend the dishonored status of a divorced woman? A husband's rejection was the worst kind of humiliation. It seemed as though Victoria was in danger from those who would protect her as well as those who would harm her.
Pity yanked the threads of accountability in the fabric of his honor. Combined with the hopeful gaze in Jacob's eyes, he knew the manipulative power of sympathy and sentimentality. Angered at his weakening resolve, he bolstered his refusal.
"You will have to find another solution, Jacob. I am a Prince of my people. Much is expected from the woman I will make my wife. I do not think your daughter would welcome those responsibilities, even for the short duration you propose. I am sorry. Please understand. I am willing to help in any other way."
Jacob gave an accepting nod. "I understand. Thank you for listening."
Rashid, sure there was nothing more to be accomplished by furthering the discussion, turned and walked toward the office door. He was about to reach for the handle when the door opened and swung inward. Stepping aside, he barely missed a collision and found himself positioned between the door and the wall. At least he had managed to put a foot out in time to prevent the solid surface from slamming into him.
A small, blonde windstorm rushed through the opening, her hurried stride taking her past him and straight to Jacob's desk.
"Did you kill the Bellingham contract? How do you expect me to do my job if you negate my decisions?"
"Victoria, this is not a good time," Jacob sputtered.
Rashid watched Jacob's daughter square her small shoulders as if the action would prevent her from being too easily dismissed.
"I've been trying to talk to you for two days." Victoria raised the file folder in her hand.
Jacob extended his hand toward the folder. "I know. I've been working on a project of my own. Perhaps..."
"Well, before you do anything else, you better have a look at this report." Victoria dropped the overstuffed file folder on her father's desk. Hitting the polished surface at an angle, the folder streaked across the desk and launched itself into the air like a jet off an aircraft carrier. Papers scattered and settled randomly over the black marble flooring. Rashid knew this was his opportunity to exit and be done with what was an impossible situation. The problem was getting his body to cooperate. His feet, with a mind of their own, rooted to the shiny marble floor beneath them.
He focused on Victoria's gasp of surprise as she turned to survey the extent of her blunder. A small hand moved to cover her lips, and a pink tinge of embarrassment deepened the rosy hue on her cheeks. Before turning back toward her father, she stiffened her spine and lifted her head, allowing her chin to jut forward with a stubborn tilt. She reminded Rashid of his cousin's three-year-old daughter, Jasmine, a fiery little beauty that could rival a desert tempest with her eruptive behavior.
He waited for Jacob's response. Though Victoria's actions were indiscreet, Rashid did not want to see her subjected to her father's disapproval. The unexpected concern nagged at him like an unwelcome rash, one he knew would worsen if scratched.
In close proximity, she radiated an uncommon allure and beauty, especially her hair. He'd always been fascinated by the rare brilliance of blonde hair. Hers rivaled the radiance of noonday sunlight. He didn't like the intricate braiding that kept it captured, but he did appreciate the way the style exposed the soft, creamy skin of her slender neck. He imagined that if loosened, the soft curls would cascade over her shoulders. Silky curls, twining, clinging, and then gliding through a man's fingers.
The possibility of her being abused at the hand of any man, be they terrorist or father, was deeply offensive. She needed a protector. Since he had refused, whom would her father choose? The muscles in his throat clinched again. He swallowed several times to rid himself of the choking tightness.
