The Sheikh's Captive Mistress by Jessica Brooke, Ella Brooke Page A

many vermin within the palace’s walls.”
    “But,” Emma added, kissing Naseem’s scarred cheek and Munir smiled at the kindness of his intended bride. “We have the best advisors available. Take care, Naseem, and thank you for helping to save me.”
    They both stepped back to the curb and waved as the Lincoln town car disappeared into the distance. Munir was not worried about Naseem’s safety. The best doctors would tend to his wounds. The palace guards who were unquestionably loyal to him were also going to be stationed in the hospital. No one would get to him. That was, of course, even considering if Kashif, chained as he was in an abandoned citadel could summon any help. Munir shook his head as he thought about his brother. So much potential there, yet wasted away. It wasn’t what he’d wanted, but there was truly a black heart there, fed by his mother’s cruel nature and their father’s tendency toward hardline extremism.
    There was nothing left to do but continue onto his life and celebrate what he could with the woman he loved by his side. Speaking of, Munir took Emma’s hand as they eased into the limo. His security detail sat in front and separated behind barricade of bulletproof glass in the backseat.
    Emma was a mess. Her clothing reeked of sewage and the mold of the water from the cisterns leaking into the ancient citadel’s basement. The make-up she must have applied that morning in Dubai was smeared, especially around her eyes. Her hair was knotted and a few places clearly looked as if Kashif had torn at it, just a few stray patches that looked hurt. Her t-shirt was still torn, and he could catch glimpses of her bra from under his flak jacket. She shivered from the air conditioning in the car being a shock to both their systems after standing outside in the hot and swirling Yomani sands. Still, he was sure part of it had to be from the trauma his beast of a brother almost inflicted on her.
    Reaching down, he wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and used his other hand to stroke her soft, yet matted hair. He would see to it she was restored and also pampered silly at the castle. Basheera would come home and bathe her in the richest oils; he’d summon the best stylists, and everyone would restore the luster and shine to her light blonde locks.
    “I love you more than my life, habbibi .”
    She blinked up at him and frowned. “Do you think I could ever doubt that now? Kashif almost killed you!”
    “And you had some mean tricks of your own, beloved. I saw such fierceness in you. As I suspected, you would always make a magnificent sheikha. Hell, you’d make a better guard than half of my team. Still,” he said, trailing off and stroking her cheek. “It is unacceptable what he did to you. I cannot bear to kill another, especially my own blood, but I shall think of fiendish tortures to subdue him.”
    She smiled, even though he could tell it didn’t meet her eyes. It wasn’t the look of sunny awe that lit her up in Dubai on the ski range. “Get a TV and blare infomercials for days. Ooh, you could make him rewatch Star Wars: Episode I on a loop. Jar Jar Binks for weeks!”
    “You, habbibi , are nothing short of diabolical.”
    Emma nodded and snuggled in deeper to his side. The warmth of her body was intoxicating, but it was far from the thing he wanted right then. Alright, that wasn’t completely true. He was always hard for his wife-to-be, but now was not that time. Now, all he wanted to do was snuggle in her arms, squirrel her away and keep her protected forever, but that was not always the life they lived. Yoman was a dangerous place. There were the bombings that accidentally bled onto the land by the Americans, the rebels that often created problems in the Northern Lands, and even the threat of war from neighboring nations. She might always be a target as a sheikha. He now had no doubt she could physically handle herself, and beautifully he might add, but he was terrified that she