Ricardo (The Santiago Brothers Book Three) by K. Victoria Chase

Author:K. Victoria Chase [Chase, K. Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-04-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“Abdul has not been to see me.”

That took Ric by surprise. He was sure Hassan’s tent would be the first place Abdul would go upon learning that two of his men were knocked unconscious by a man and a mysterious woman in his tent. Ric schooled his voice to hide his concern. “He hasn’t?”

Hassan shook his head and loudly slurped the remaining burgundy-colored liquid from his crystal glass. “His last audience was early this morning. Do you need to see him?”

Not since early this morning. At least Ric had time to create a cover story for himself and Mel, although whether Hassan could sell it to Abdul remained an uncertain variable. And a necessary risk. “I do need to speak to him.”

Hassan cocked a curious brow. “Business?”

Ric met the man’s gaze. “Personal.”

Hassan’s brows dipped and his eyes narrowed. After a moment of appraisal, the interest in his face faded. He shrugged and eyed the drop of liquid in his glass before he cast a glance up in Ric’s direction.

Ric smirked and reached for the nearby bottle of red wine. Wine was another excessive indulgence Hassan had developed since his wife’s passing. He poured the liquid until the glass was half-full. Hassan cleared his throat. “Of course,” Ric said with a grin, and he topped off the glass to near spillage. “Have you had your liver checked lately?”

“Ha!” Hassan loudly slurped the wine. “I assume you’d rather not discuss what this personal issue is, but what about the other issue?”

Hand still on the bottle, Ric froze after he placed it on the table.

Hassan’s brows rose. “Do you want to hear what I have to say or do you plan to remain a statue forever?”

An oversized plush chair for two sat opposite the lounge Hassan reclined on and Ric settled into the seat, positioning it closer to the table between them. Hassan had plenty of time to invent a story about his apparent non-involvement in the terrorist plot and his motive was simple: keep Ric in the dark about his right-hand man’s activities. Ric steeled his emotions against the fabrication his “friend” was about to unfold. “My apologies.”

A shadow crossed Hassan’s face that extinguished the merriment from the wine and replaced the half-grin with a stiff frown. “This plot you mentioned earlier today…”

Hassan’s voice faded into lingering silence. The man’s penetrating gaze went right through Ric. The hairs on his neck stiffened and Ric rotated in his seat. Abdul stood a few yards away. How had he entered without alerting the guards? Anyone seeking an audience with Hassan was announced and only received admittance with the sheik’s approval. Did Hassan’s guards swear their allegiance to Abdul? If that were the case, who could he trust? Even Hassan’s life would be in danger if the security around him answered to Abdul. But Abdul wouldn’t harm the man who held the purse strings, his comrade-in-arms.

Hard, dark eyes stared at the two men, revealing nothing — not even whether or not he’d overheard the last words uttered by Hassan.

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