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Sovereign Sheriff
Sovereign Sheriff
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Sovereign Sheriff

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Her pain was honest, not a facade. He could tell that her heart was aching, and her vulnerability touched him. He’d always been a sucker for the underdog; it was his nature to protect those who couldn’t fend for themselves.

But he doubted that the princess fell under that category. She had too many advantages. Not only was she rich and royal but her beauty was an undeniable asset. All she needed to do was flutter those thick, black eyelashes and most men would jump to do her bidding.

Very deliberately, he removed her hand from his arm. “Amir went missing a while ago. Why are you coming here now?”

“Do you think I waited because I don’t care about my brother?”

Or she was too busy getting a manicure. “Why now?”

“All my life, my brother has tried to shelter me. He’s almost ten years older than I am. His friends—Sheik Efraim and the others—thought they were doing as Amir would wish when they told me not to worry, that everything was fine.” Her amber eyes flashed. “They lied to me.”

A harsh judgment. Even if the princes had deceived her, news reporters and paparazzi had been all over this case. “You must have seen the reports.”

“The media.” She flicked her hand as if swatting an irritating gnat. “I know better than to believe what I see on the ten o’clock news. I thought I could trust my brother’s friends. But I’ve given up on them. They won’t answer my questions. The FBI agents refused to speak to me. I have come to you to hear the truth.”

“Lucky me,” he muttered.

“I read about you on the internet. You promised change when you ran for sheriff. You want to help people and fight corruption. There were some amazing endorsements.”

He eyed her skeptically. “If you’ve been in this country for any time at all, you must know that you can’t believe much of what’s said during a campaign.”

“I’ve lived in America since I was sixteen.”

That must be why she had only a slight accent, just a hint of the exotic.

She continued, “It’s true that politicians will say anything to win. But you’re different. I trust you.”

He had a pretty good idea that she was shining him on to get what she wanted. “You figured out that I’m trustworthy by looking me up on the internet?”

Her full lips parted in a smile, showing off her perfect, white teeth. When she leaned toward him, he caught a whiff of perfume that smelled like mint and peaches. Her nearness was having an effect on him. As Maggie never tired of pointing out, he hadn’t been with a woman for quite a while.

“Now that I’ve met you,” she purred, “I know that I made the right choice. I read all about you, Jake. You’re Native American.”

“Arapaho,” he said.

“Is that like Navajo?” Her hand rested on her hip and she struck a calculated pose with her head cocked to one side. “I simply adore turquoise jewelry.”

“Different tribe.”

“Perhaps you could explain it to me. I’m very interested.”

The woman was flirting her cute little tail off. Jake had three sisters; he knew how these feminine games were played. “Don’t waste my time, Princess.”

“Will you help me?”

“I’ll do my job. My department and the local police and the FBI are looking for your brother, but a lot of time has passed. He might not even be in this area.”

“He’s not dead.” She spoke with sudden sincerity. “If Amir had died, I would have felt his absence as surely as if part of my soul had been ripped away.”

In the blink of an eye, she’d gone from flirty to serious. The transformation impressed him. “I’m sorry, Saida.”

“Please. Tell me what happened. The truth.”

He could give her that much. “It was late at night. The other royals and their entourages had returned to Wind River Ranch and Resort. Your brother set out in one of the limos with a driver. We don’t know his destination. There was nothing remarkable about the area where the car bomb exploded.”

Saida sucked in a breath. “And then?”

“The driver was killed in the explosion. There were indications that your brother was injured. His blood was found at the scene.” He paused. “I can’t show you the forensics reports, but the CSI was Jane Cameron, and she’s good.”

“What did she find?”

“Tire tracks showed an unidentified vehicle at the scene. A witness saw him exit the burning limo so we know he was still alive at that point, but there hasn’t been any communication from him.”

Her brow furrowed. “You’re leaving out a lot.”

“I am,” he readily admitted. “I could write four books about the things that have happened since Amir disappeared.”

“I have time,” she said.

He glanced toward the house where his sister hovered in the doorway, waiting for him to bring their royal visitor inside. “It’s best if you go to the resort where the other royals and their bodyguards are staying. You could be in danger.”

“The attack on my brother might have been politically motivated,” she said. “Our four nations…”

“COIN.” He used the acronym. “The Coalition of Island Nations.”

“Yes, COIN owns extensive oil resources. We have enemies, including the Russian mob, who would do anything to gain control of our wealth.”

“And these dangerous people could come after you.”

“Not me,” she said. “As a woman, I have no power in Jamala. The leadership of the country would never pass to me. It’s my destiny to be forever a princess. Never a true leader.”

He heard an edge of bitterness in her voice. There was something fascinating about her, but he couldn’t allow himself to get tangled in her web. “For tonight, you have a choice. Either you can go to the resort, or I can turn you over to the FBI for protective custody.”

She waved her manicured hands in front of her face. Her fingernails had purple tips. “I can’t be in custody. I have to be free to investigate.”

“Then it’s the resort.” He walked toward the house. “Let me get my keys, and I’ll follow you in my car to make sure you get there safely. Tomorrow, you can call me for an up date.”

“If you won’t help, I’ll pursue my own investigation.”

That had to be one of the worst ideas he’d ever heard. He couldn’t imagine Saida flouncing through the streets of Dumont and asking questions. She’d stand out like a giraffe in a herd of prairie dogs.

Before he could object, she went to her car, started the engine and backed away from the porch.

He ran inside and grabbed his keys from the table by the door. Maggie glared at him. “What did you say to her? Why did you chase her off?”

“Because that woman is trouble.”

“Lone wolf,” she snapped. “You and Saida would make a really cute couple.”

He couldn’t believe she was playing matchmaker. “Trust me, Maggie. If I ever settle down, it won’t be with a high-maintenance princess. No matter how pretty she is.”

His sister beamed. “You think she’s pretty?”

“She’s not for me.”

When he stepped outside onto the porch, he saw the taillights of a truck on the two-lane road beyond his driveway. A black sedan followed. Both were driving fast, and they seemed to be in formation—in pursuit of the princess.

Chapter Two

Angrier than she should have been, Saida glared through the windshield of the pitiful little rental car that had awaited her private jet at the Dumont airfield. She’d asked for an SUV, a vehicle with some muscle. But no! The Minister of Affairs in Jamala had made her travel arrangements, and Nasim thought big cars were un-princesslike. This silly little compact was his way of showing her who was the boss.

This time the joke was on Nasim. His insistence that she fly private rather than commercial allowed her to pack both of her handguns. If a firefight was necessary to rescue her brother, she wouldn’t hesitate. All she needed was one person in her corner—a contact inside the investigation who could point her in the right direction. She had hoped that ally would be Jake Wolf, but she’d blown it with the sheriff.

When it came to personal negotiations, especially with men, she usually got what she wanted. She’d played the princess card and failed to impress him. Then she’d attempted to flirt. Catastrophe! Why, oh, why, had she made that silly comment about the Navajo turquoise jewelry? Playing dumb wasn’t going to cut it with Jake. She should have known better.

Her internet research led her to surmise that Jake Wolf was incorruptible and unlikely to be swayed by bribes from those who had attacked her brother. She expected him to be a serious, responsible man.

What surprised her was his stunning physical presence. The internet photos hadn’t done him justice. His eyes held the depth and fire of black diamonds. His square jaw was perfectly balanced by a high forehead and strong cheekbones. And that body? When she saw him shirtless with his jeans slung low on his hips, he had taken her breath away. His lean torso, hard muscles and smooth bronzed skin had almost made her forget why she’d come to this desolate place.

She inhaled a breath and exhaled slowly through her nostrils. Anger was futile. Instead, she needed to be calm and controlled. She needed a plan.

Though she’d programmed the location of the very exclusive, very posh Wind River Ranch and Resort into the GPS navigator in her rental car, she still wasn’t sure if she should go there. The COIN royals wouldn’t be happy to see her. Sheik Efraim Aziz, her brother’s best friend, had been adamant about keeping her away. Too bad, Efraim.

It was time they all realized that she wasn’t a child anymore. True, she’d made her share of mistakes. Her reputation as a socialite who paraded down red carpets and danced until dawn at trendy L.A. clubs was somewhat deserved. But she had also graduated from UCLA, and she’d earned top grades in her first year of law school. If given a chance, she’d prove that she could contribute to the welfare of COIN.

And she could help in the search for her brother.

The car’s GPS navigational system said, “In two-point-four miles, turn left.”

In her rearview mirror, she noticed headlights approaching. Though it was difficult to make out any details on this unlit road, the vehicle behind her appeared to be a truck and it was coming too fast. Inappropriate driving; this asphalt road wasn’t the Swiss autobahn. Instinctively, she pressed down on the accelerator, hoping to make it to her turn before the truck caught up and caused her to crash.

Was this a drunk driver? Or a teenager out for a joyride? Saida was aware of the darker possibility. As a princess, she lived with the constant threat of being kidnapped for a royal ransom and had been trained in marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat and evasive driving techniques.

The headlights were on her tail. She was going fifty-eight miles per hour—an unsafe speed for making a ninety-degree turn on a narrow road.

“Turn left in one hundred feet,” the GPS said.

Saida saw the stop sign and the intersection. She tapped the brake, hoping the truck behind her would slow down. No such luck. Its front bumper kissed the back of her car hard enough to give her a jolt. The driver wasn’t following her by coincidence. He was pursuing her.

“Turn left now,” said the GPS.

She cranked the steering wheel and swerved. Her lightweight rental car fishtailed wildly. Centrifugal force threatened to flip her car into a death roll. She maintained balance, controlled the turn and leveled out on a straightaway.

“In one-point-three miles, turn right.”

The truck was still behind her. Even worse, another set of headlights appeared in the lane beside it and quickly pulled forward. If the second car got ahead of her, she’d be trapped between them.

She tromped on the accelerator. Seventy miles per hour. Seventy-five. Eighty. Going over a ridge, her vehicle was airborne. The car landed with a crash that stressed the shock absorbers.

“Turn right,” the GPS said.

But she couldn’t. It would be suicide to take the turn at this speed. The second vehicle—a dark sedan—remained in the lane for oncoming traffic. He pulled even with her rear fender.

The GPS system scolded, “You missed the turn.”

“Shut up!”

Her training told her to hit the gas and zip into the other lane to block the second car, but she didn’t have the horsepower to pull ahead. Panic flashed inside her head. Think, Saida.

In the backseat were two of the six suitcases she’d packed for this trip. Even if she could dig into the suitcase and reach her handguns, it wouldn’t do much good. Her weapons weren’t loaded.

The sedan passed her. Once it was in front of her, the driver slowed his speed. She was hemmed in with no room to maneuver, nowhere else to go. Beyond the shoulder of this road was a strip of land and a barbed-wire fence.

The truck pulled into the lane beside her. She lifted her foot from the accelerator and slowed. The truck matched her speed.

Before she felt the impact, she heard the grinding of metal against metal. He was forcing her off the road. Her tires crashed raggedly on the gravel shoulder.

Her foot jammed down hard on the brake.

The truck shot past her.

Her brake rotors screeched. She went into a skid.

The air bag exploded, blinding her and forcing her hands off the steering wheel. Her tires bounced off the road and over a ditch, throwing her car off balance. Before she tipped over, the car came to a full stop.

It was a miracle that she hadn’t flipped over, that she didn’t seem to be injured. Frantically, she batted at the air bag. Her fingers struggled to unfasten the seat belt. She had to run, had to get out of this car before her pursuers grabbed her.

The wail of a police siren cut through the air.

The bag deflated enough that she could see through the window. The taillights of the truck were zooming away from her. The other car had disappeared. They’d given up.

Adrenaline surged through her veins. She could have been killed, could have been kidnapped. Why was this happening? The inside of her head whirled in a dizzying tornado, and she gripped the wheel to stabilize herself.

The siren came closer, and she saw the flashing red and blue lights of a police vehicle.

Jake appeared outside her car window. He yanked on her door handle until it opened. “Saida, are you all right?”

Unable to speak, she could only nod.

When he touched her shoulder, she flinched. Every muscle in her body screamed with tension.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said. “Let go of the wheel.”

She pried her fingers loose. Darkness pressed against her peripheral vision. She shook herself, fighting for control. I won’t pass out. The idea of fainting into Jake’s strong arms held a certain appeal, but she didn’t want to show weakness. She wanted him to think of her as an equal.

Clearly, she said, “You got here just in time.”

“Let’s get you out of here.” He took her hand to help her from the car. “We need to hurry. In case they come back.”