Sandra Marton - Hostage Of The Hawk

The logical thing to do was to tell her that she and her father had wasted their time, that he was not Hassan but Prince Khalil, that he was not interested in whatever game it was they were playing.

But if he did that, he would not learn what game it was. And that, surely, was vital.

‘I still fail to see why your father sent you to this meeting, Miss Bennett,’ he said sharply, ‘unless he thought you could succeed where others had failed simply through the element of surprise.’

‘If it makes you feel any better,’ Joanna blurted, ‘I’m as surprised as you are. I thought you’d be—I thought...’

‘Yes?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘What did you think?’

Joanna stared at him. That you’d be a million years old, she thought, that you’d be a wizened old man... His voice. His voice had sounded old on the telephone. Hadn’t it? Maybe not. She could remember little of their conversation except how desperate she’d been to make him commit to this meeting—this meeting that she was on the verge of ruining, unless she used her head.

‘I thought,’ she said carefully, ‘we’d be able to sit down and discuss our differences face to face.’

He smiled tightly. ‘But not man to man.’

‘The bottom line,’ Joanna said, ignoring the taunt, ‘is that we—that is, Prince Khalil and Bennettco— do have differences.’

‘Yes. We do, indeed.’ His voice hardened. ‘Bennettco thinks it can ignore Khalil and deal only with Abu—’

‘Abu Al Zouad is the King of Jandara,’ Joanna said with an icy smile, ‘or has your Prince forgotten that little item?’

‘He is not the King, he is the Sultan,’ Khalil said sharply, ‘and surely not Khalil’s.’

‘Abu is the recognised leader of your country, and he has guaranteed Bennettco the right to mine in the northern mountains.’

Khalil’s smile was wily. ‘If that is the case, why has your father sent you to meet with me?’

‘To talk about what is best for Khalil’s people.’

He laughed, this time with such disdain that it made Joanna’s spine stiffen.

‘You spout nonsense, Miss Bennett. That is hardly the issue we’re here to discuss.’

At least the man was blunt, Joanna thought grimly. ‘Very well, then,’ she said. ‘My father’s sent me to talk about what will most benefit Bennettco—and what will most benefit your Prince, which is why your unwillingness to listen to what I have to say surprises me, Mr Hassan. This meeting is in Khalil’s best interests, but—’

‘Sir?’ They both spun towards the curtained doorway. The head waiter was standing just inside it, smiling nervously. ‘The bill, sir.’

Khalil looked at the silver tray in the man’s hand, then at Joanna. She was right. It would be foolish of him not to find out what tricks her father had up his sleeve, even if it meant enduring her company.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I will give you an hour, and not a moment more.’

Joanna nodded. She was afraid to breathe or even to answer for fear this impossible man would change his mind again and walk out.

Khalil nodded, too, as if they had made a pact, then looked towards the waiter.

‘Bring us the meal I ordered,’ he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

‘Certainly, sir.’

‘Be seated, Miss Bennett.’

Be seated, Joanna thought as she slid into the padded banquette, just like that. No ‘please’, no attempt at courtesy at all. It was ludicrous. He’d already ordered dinner, even though she’d reserved the table. The man was impossible, arrogant and imperious and—

‘So.’ She looked up. He had slid into the booth opposite her and he was watching her intently, his eyes unreadable as they met hers. He sat back, his broad shoulders straining just a bit at the jacket of his suit, and a faint smile touched his mouth. ‘Why don’t you start our meeting by telling me about the Bennettco project?’

She did, even though she was certain he knew all the details. It would only help her make her case at the end, when it became time to ask him for assurance that he’d not try and hinder the project. She talked through the lemon soup, through the couscous, through the chicken baked with saffron, and finally he held up his hand.

‘Very interesting—but you still haven’t told me why I should permit—why my Prince should permit Bennettco to mine in the mountains?’

‘Well, first of all, the operation will bring money into Jandara. It will—it will...’ Joanna frowned. ‘Permit, Mr Hassan? I don’t think that’s quite the correct word, do you?’

‘English is not my first language, Miss Bennett, but I learned it at quite an early age. “Permit” was the word I intended.’

‘But the decision’s not Khalil’s. It’s Abu’s.’

‘Is it?’ He smiled lazily. ‘If that were completely true, you wouldn’t be here.’ He smiled lazily. ‘You’re concerned that Khalil will interfere with the project, isn’t that right?’

What was the sense in denying it? Joanna shrugged her shoulders.

‘We think he might try, yes.’

‘And have you stopped to consider why he might do that?’

‘Perhaps he hasn’t given enough thought to how much this project will benefit his people.’

The arrogance of the woman! Khalil forced his smile not to waver.

‘He is selfish, you mean?’

Joanna looked up, caught by the man’s tone. He was still smiling, but there was something in that smile that made her wary.

‘Well, perhaps he doesn’t see it that way,’ she said cautiously, ‘but—’

‘But you do, and that’s what matters.’

‘You’re twisting my words, Mr Hassan.’

‘On the contrary. I’m doing my best to get to the heart of your concerns. What else am I to tell him, apart from a warning about his selfishness?’

Joanna stared at him. Was he asking her to be more direct about the bribe money? It galled her to make such an offer but reason seemed to be failing. Sam had warned her that this was the way things were done in this part of the world, but—

‘Don’t lose courage now,’ he said coldly. ‘Be blunt, Miss Bennett. It’s why you came here, remember?’

‘Tell him—tell him we won’t tolerate any harassment of our workers.’

‘I see. You worry he might have them beaten. Or shot.’

There was a lack of emotion in his words, as if having men hurt were an everyday occurrence.

‘We are not “worried” about anything, Mr Hassan,’ she lied, her tone as flat as his. ‘This project will go ahead, no matter what your Prince does. We simply want to encourage Khalil’s co-operation.’

His nostrils dilated. He yearned to take the woman’s slender shoulders in his hands and shake some sense into her.

‘Really?’ he said, and if Joanna had not been so caught up in her own determination to succeed, if she had not already decided that the only thing that would close the deal was the enormous bribe Sam had suggested, she’d have heard the note of warning in that single word. ‘And how are you going to do that, Miss Bennett?’

Joanna gave him a look laced with contempt, then unclasped her evening bag and took out the envelope her father had given her.

‘With this,’ she said bluntly, and slid the envelope across the table towards him.

He bent his head and looked at it. His anger made the words on the paper a meaningless blur but then, what this female Judas was offering didn’t matter. She had accused him of being obstinate, selfish and despotic, and now she had sought to buy him off as if he were a common thief.

‘Well?’ Her voice was impatient. ‘Is it enough?’

Khalil silently counted to ten, first in Arabic, then in English, and then he took the envelope and stuffed it into his pocket.