Dangerous Pleasure (13 page)

“Tell me, Paige, how is my bastard, traitorous son and his whore doing these days?” His lips curled in disgust. “I was actually surprised his brother Abram wasn’t present in the bed with him and his little Jezebel, rather than that ineffective agent to your FBI that was fucking her instead.”

How in God’s name did Azir know these things?

Shane Conner, the FBI agent, was Khalid’s third, that was the truth. He was also working with Daniel Conover’s security firm to upgrade the electronic security on Khalid’s estate.

But Azir’s men hadn’t managed to kidnap her from Khalid’s estate.

Oh yeah, that’s right, she was too fucking stupid to stay there. Azir’s men had caught her in her own home.

Azir knew things that were going on in that house that no one should have known about. Shane Connor’s role as Khalid’s third wasn’t a well known fact, even among the few friends Paige knew they had, who shared that little sexual taste.

“You’re not answering me.” Malice flashed in Azir’s face. “Did your mother not teach you to respect your elders, you little bitch? Or did she only teach you to be the whore she is as well?”

“My mother is no whore!” The words jumped from her lips as though they had a mind of her own.

He could have her tongue at this point. She wouldn’t stand to hear her mother called such names. “I did not ask your opinion on whether or not she was the whore we both know she is. I asked you how that bastard brother and his Jezebel are doing. A simple enough request I thought, or are you too stupid to understand even that much?”

“Sorry, I don’t know a bastard brother or anyone called Jezebel.” Brief. To the point. She had to fight the need to tell the dirty son of a bitch exactly where he could get off at.

His lips twisted in satisfaction. “Punishing you will be a pleasure.”

“I have no doubt you’ll find it the highlight of your old and wasted life,” she muttered. “So why don’t you tell me why I’m here rather than threatening me all day?”

He grunted at what she considered a very clear order.

“What of the less than charming Mr. Connor? Is he still fucking Khalid’s trash up the ass or has he fulfilled his depravity and Khalid’s, by actually taking Khalid like the animals they both are?” Azir watched her like a hungry wolf.

Paige could feel a chill of dread race up her spine as her skin crawled with distaste at the lustful interest in his gaze. Each time he mentioned Khalid and Shane sharing Marty, or any reference to their sexual activities, hunger flashed across his face.

She shook her head warily. “You must have the Shane Connor I know confused with someone else, not to mention the Khalid and Marty I know. Are you sure you haven’t been sniffing the camel glue a little too often?.”

Azir snorted sarcastically, his lips curling in disgust. “I should have killed him and his whoring mother when I had the chance. When I realized she was as faithless as the wind.”

“All women are just whores to you, aren’t they, Azir?” Good common sense was overridden by the continued insults to her gentle, compassionate mother.

Despite the time she had been locked in these rooms, raped nightly and forced to conceive the child of her rapist, still, she had adored her son and lavished him with love, just as she had her daughter.

“Your mother is a whore,” he snarled. “She shares herself as her son shares the diseased flesh of his women. She corrupted my son’s mind and his soul and turned him into a depraved animal.”

“After you kidnapped and raped her, and forced her to marry you I’d say you’re the monster and the animal, not my mother or my brother,” Paige retorted scathingly. She could practically feel the knife against her tongue now.

“Your father stole what was mine. He is the kidnapper, the criminal. From my very home he tore my wife from my arms and turned her against me.” He raged, his arms lifting, fingers curling to fists as he brought them to his chest as though in supplication. “Do you not understand what they did to me? To my child? They destroyed us.”

“She was running for her life when my uncle and my father found her,” she argued desperately. “She risked death to escape you, Azir. No one had to tear her from your arms because she had already done it for herself. She risked her life and that of her baby to get away from you, Mustafa!”

Hatred.

It was like a disease.

It overrode terror just enough to keep her from shutting her mouth and being prudent. Her temper was getting the best of her. It was her curse. She was a nice person, she really was, until someone ignorant decided to force that ignorance in her face, and then she just couldn’t hold back.

“She belongs to me!” he screamed, his eyes widening, becoming crazed as he surged forward before she could escape him.

He caught her off guard as he backhanded her with what she was certain had to be the full force he possessed. It was enough force to make her feel as if the blow had disintegrated every bone in her head.

Lights exploded before her eyes as she felt herself all but fly across the room to collapse against the stone floor. Her head was ringing with a thousand cymbals, her gaze dizzy as she lost her breath. She felt herself trying to pass out from the coppery taste of her own blood.

The taste filled her mouth, and in a distant, horror-filled part of her mind Paige realized that this was the first time in her life that she had ever been struck.

“You are a disrespectful little harlot, just as your mother was. But she learned her place, and you will learn yours. Or you will die as I should have killed her.”

He stood over her, raging down at her like a maniac.

“She escaped you though, didn’t she?” She wheezed as she fought to breathe through the pain, her arms shaking as she tried to brace them under her. “She hates you, Azir. She hates you so much she’d kill you herself if she could.”

If she was going to die, then she would be damned if she wouldn’t inflict just as many insults as she could drag out of her ringing, pain-dazed mind.

“I could break you!” He sounded like a wild animal as she tried to focus on him. “I should show you how easy it is to break a little whore such as yourself. I could make you beg to die. Beg to call your mother a whore to her face just to make the pain cease.”

“I’d kill myself first,” she snarled back at him. She tried to brace herself against the floor, her arm losing strength and giving up on her as she fell to the floor once again.

A second later vicious fingers were curling into her hair, dragging her to her knees as she screamed.

Her struggles were weak, ineffective. She hadn’t managed to get her bearings from that blow yet or the agonizing pain still roiling through her senses, and the strength was just slow returning, she told herself.

She could feel the knotted sheet between her breasts slipping. Suddenly, the knowledge that she would be naked before him seemed as bad as being raped by him. Someone had already undressed her, that violation was enough. She sure as hell had no intention of allowing him to see her again, while she was conscious.

She struggled to grip the sheet and hold it to her as Azir, gripping her arms, jerked her to her feet and began shaking her viciously. Her head jerked dangerously on her shoulders as she tried to dig her nails into his arms, but she was weak and dizzy.

“I trained that little bitch, just as I’ll train you.”

With the last word she felt the strength gather in his arms and a second later he had flung her away from him. Hard.

She wasn’t going to be able to break her fall.

Paige braced herself as she lost her grip on the sheet. This one was really going to hurt and there was no way to stop it.

Hell, she was going to be naked in front of Azir Mustafa.

A sob tore from her throat as she felt herself flying. Fear struck every nerve in her body a millisecond before her flight abruptly ended.

Strong hands caught her, pulling her against a hard, warm body as the sheet was simultaneously straightened around her nakedness.

Abram!

Her fingers curled against his arm, feeling the softness of cotton over his flesh as he held her to him, the warmth of his body wrapping around her.

He was here. Finally. He hadn’t really deserted her. Could he control Azir? How long would it take him to get her a T-shirt and jeans? Panties would be nice. She didn’t like running around without her drawers.

Fractured thoughts continued to race through her mind as her senses spun violently.

“Are you okay, precious?” He held her against him, his head bending to whisper gently at her ear, his voice rough with rage and regret as she tried to lift her head, which felt as if it were teetering on her shoulders.

Hysterical amusement threatened to escape in a gale of laughter as she tried to hold her head straight. “Make the room stop moving, Abram.” She blinked back at him. “This sucks.”

“It’s okay, baby.” His voice was a gentle murmur. “I promise you, everything’s going to be okay. I want you to go with Tariq for now, though. He’ll take care of you until I’m finished here. Will you do that, Paige? Go with Tariq, sweetheart.”

“No! I want to go home.” Her fingers curled demandingly into the long, cotton tuniclike shirt he wore as she forced her eyes to focus, forced herself to find whatever little strength was left in her legs. “Call Khalid or Papa. They’ll come for me.” She wasn’t about to stay here a moment longer than she had to. “This is insane. Get me out of here.”

Her vision was finally clearing, the dizzying blurriness slowly evaporating to focus on the tormented, tortured expression on his face.

Black eyes glowed in feral rage as his face seemed curved from stone into lines of brutal disillusionment.

“Go with Tariq, first, Paige.” He gripped her arms and eased her from him before moving her in Tariq’s direction.

“No. I won’t leave you alone with him.” She stared up at him, seeing the pain in his eyes, the grief in his face, and she knew he had to be inconsolable with rage. She couldn’t leave him alone with this madman. “What if it’s contagious?”

His gaze turned back to hers, a subtle glimmer of bemusement glowing in the wicked, night dark depths. “What is contagious, hellcat?”

“His insanity,” she whispered back at him, at once hearing the ludicrous suggestion, yet the need to make light of the situation couldn’t be fought. That was her. Take it seriously and she could end up sharing Abram’s fate herself. Azir Mustafa could drive a saint crazy, she guessed. And poor Abram, he lived with the old bat.

He had to hate this. This place, this room, it wasn’t Abram. The way he was dressed, the expression on his face, it wasn’t the man she knew. He would never countenance abusing a woman, or kidnapping one.

He was as arrogant as the wind itself, as the very desert that raised him, but he wasn’t the vicious monster his father obviously was.

“I’m certain it’s not contagious,” he promised. “But go with Tariq for now. I’ll take care of everything and I’ll join you soon.”

“You beg a whore to do as you ask?” Azir cracked behind her. “How you have fallen, my son.”

Paige refused to glance back at him, rather she continued to stare up at Abram, willing him to leave with her, to refuse to risk himself in his father’s demented company.

“Now,” his voice was nearly silent, but there was no mistaking the dark command that filled it. “Go with Tariq.”

Tariq Mustafa. She knew him. There were times he had come to America with Abram and visited with Khalid and her family. He had smiled. He had “almost” flirted a time or two, but Abram and Khalid’s displeasure had been clearly apparent.

This time though, his expression was hard, cold, as though he had no idea who she was. There wasn’t so much as a glimmer of recognition as he took her from Abram.

Her lips thinned, her displeasure unable to hide. He had no business lingering here when they needed to make plans. When they needed to get her out of Saudi Arabia.

“Come on.” Tariq wasn’t flirting with her this time as she forced the strength in her legs to walk to the door. He acted as though he didn’t know her, as though he had never met her. And she would find out why the minute Abram joined them.

*   *   *

Abram watched as Tariq drew Paige from the room, eased her around the doors and led her up the hall to his suite. Dark, emerald green eyes stared back at him, defiance and anger reflecting in her gaze before she disappeared.

He turned back to Azir, though God knew he didn’t want to. He could feel the killing rage rising inside him, threatening the control it had taken so many years to develop.

For a moment he wondered if she could be right, if the Mustafa legacy of blood, death, and insanity, wasn’t actually a contagion that infected each generation after the other.

Staring at his father, he felt nothing but the overwhelming hatred that he was in danger of allowing to spill from the depths of his soul.

He stared at his father, and he saw nothing but the ragged, agonizing pain his first wife had felt as she died, the fear of his second wife as she died with their unborn child, and his own fear when he had learned that Paige’s life was in danger.

“She’s the very image of her mother, isn’t she?” Azir stated calmly, as though he hadn’t just been throwing that vision across the room with enough strength to kill her if her head were to strike the floor when she fell.