The Desert Sheikh's Defiant Queen: The Sheikh's Chosen Queen / The Desert King's Pregnant Bride. Jane PorterЧитать онлайн книгу.
her door. “I’ve a million things to do before the flight, Sharif—”
“It concerns one of your students.” He hesitated. “Perhaps you’d like to sit down.”
“Why?” she asked suspiciously. “What’s happened?”
“I just had a call from Mahir, my chief of security, and he’s on his way to the Sharjah police station. They’ve arrested one of the school students for vandalizing the campus this afternoon. It was thought that I’d want to press charges.”
She walked into the small living room and leaned against the back of her couch. “Are you pressing charges?”
“Mahir is handling the matter.”
“But what does that mean?”
“It means that Mahir makes those decisions. He’s responsible for my security.”
Jesslyn’s hand shook as she held the phone to her ear. “Which student?”
“Aaron.”
Aaron?
She frowned, bewildered. It couldn’t have been Aaron. Aaron wasn’t like that. Aaron didn’t pull pranks. He was a good kid, a serious kid, almost nerdy. “He didn’t do it,” she said faintly, folding one arm across her chest to fight the icy weakness in her limbs. “He wouldn’t pull the fire alarm. He wouldn’t.”
“They caught him running from the scene.”
“It just … it’s not … it’s not what he’d do …” And then her voice faded as she pictured the small gift Aaron had brought her earlier that day, after school had ended. She could see the white paper, the colorful silk ribbon. She’d left it on her desk when the sprinklers turned on.
“Wait.” Jesslyn chewed on her mouth. “He was on campus after school, but that’s because he had a goodbye gift for me. He’s moving back to the States.”
“Which probably explains his stunt,” Sharif answered. “I may be in my thirties but I remember being a teenager, and kids do things to get attention—”
“So you will forgive him?” she interrupted eagerly.
“If that’s all he did, the punishment would be light. But he didn’t just pull the fire alarm. Apparently he also broke into the vice principal’s office and stole copies of exams from a filing cabinet. Dr. Maddox intends to prosecute.” He paused. “She’s asked me to press charges as well.”
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“It’s not just me, though. The police are involved, as well. Theft is a serious crime.”
Swallowing, Jesslyn felt her heart lodge up in her throat. There was absolutely no way Aaron did what they said he’d done. “Sharif, he didn’t steal anything. He brought me a gift. It’s on my desk. We can go to school, retrieve that—”
“A janitor spotted the boy running away.”
“He was running to get home, not running away!”
“Jesslyn, there’s nothing we can do right now.”
She continued to shake her head. It wasn’t true. She wouldn’t believe it until she talked to Aaron herself. “I must see him. Take me to the jail, Sharif, please take me right now.”
“They won’t allow you to see him. They’ve called his parents, but the police must finish questioning him first.”
Jesslyn closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “You’re telling me they won’t let you in? You’re telling me they won’t let Sheikh Sharif Fehr in to see a child?”
He sighed. “Jesslyn.”
Her heart was racing so hard it hurt. “You can get me in to see him, Sharif.”
Silence stretched over the phone line. “I know how protective you are of your students—”
“Sharif. Please.” Her voice broke. “Please.”
Again silence answered her request, a silence that just grew longer, heavier until she heard him sigh again. “I’ll send my car for you, laeela, but understand this is serious. Understand he’s being formally charged.”
Sharif’s car arrived for her within the hour, and while sitting in the back of the dark Mercedes sedan, Jesslyn replayed the afternoon scene with Aaron in her mind again and again.
He’d been upset when he gave her the gift, touchingly emotional. But had he been acting? Or was it a ruse? The gift of the present an opportunity to cover his crime?
She didn’t know and still couldn’t decide when the car pulled up in front of the station. Sharif was already there, appearing from the police station to meet her at the car.
Jesslyn had changed before the car arrived for her, selecting a conservative, loose-fitting chocolate linen dress with long sleeves and a simple skirt. It was a dress she wore when she didn’t want to draw attention to her figure as she knew both men and women traditionally wore robes to hide the body. Sharif, she noticed, had changed, too.
He offered his hand to her as she stepped from the car. She didn’t want to take it but couldn’t refuse him, not with so many of his men watching.
Reluctantly she put her hand in his, felt his fingers wrap around hers.
“You’re cold,” Sharif said, as she stepped onto the pavement.
“I’m nervous,” she confessed, worriedly glancing up into the sky. It was beginning to grow dark. Her flight would board in a little more than three hours.
His expression sharpened. “You think he did do it, then?”
“No.” She shot Sharif a desperate look. “I’m certain he didn’t, but I’m afraid for him. If his parents have been called they’ll be upset. He’ll be upset.” She shook her head. “Oh, I wish none of this had happened.”
“But it has. Now we just have to see what the situation is.”
They headed for the police station’s entrance, Sharif’s security detail surrounding them. The bodyguards were everywhere tonight—in front of them, behind them, beside them, and while the security had been with them earlier today, it unnerved her tonight.
Or maybe it was Sharif who was unnerving her by walking so close.
Inside the station Sharif was received with great respect. The entire station staff, from desk sergeants to detectives to the chief of police, made a point of welcoming Sharif, and after ten minutes of warm greetings, the police chief and Sharif stepped aside to have a private talk.
Jesslyn waited anxiously for them to return, praying that Sharif could convince the police chief to let her see Aaron. Finally Sharif summoned her. “We have been granted permission to speak to your student, and you may ask him whatever you’d like, but you must understand they’ve a good case against him.” He looked at her, his gray gaze shuttered. “Jesslyn, the consequences would be severe.”
Another one of her fears.
Sharjah was Jesslyn’s second home and she was loath to criticize any of it, much less the government and the very good police force that worked so hard to protect both Western expats and Arab citizens, but there were dangers here, particularly for careless or reckless American teenagers who failed to heed the law.
Fortunately, teenage boys didn’t go to prison for stealing or destroying private property, but the punishment wouldn’t be light and could be emotionally scarring.
“I understand,” she whispered.
They were escorted to a small office, and while they waited for Aaron, Jesslyn nervously twisted the ring on her third finger, a ring given to her by her grandmother when she’d turned eighteen. She’d always called it her good luck ring and she played with it now, praying