The Desert Sheikh's Defiant Queen: The Sheikh's Chosen Queen / The Desert King's Pregnant Bride

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 for good fortune.

The door finally opened and the police chief appeared, escorting young Aaron.

She was devastated that he was handcuffed, but before she could say a word the police chief removed the boy’s handcuffs and pulled out a chair for him.

Aaron tumbled into the chair, his head hung so low he couldn’t see anything but the floor.

“Aaron.” She said his name softly.

His head lifted slightly but she could at least see his face. He’d been crying. His cheeks still bore traces of tears and his nose was red and shiny. “Miss Heaton,” he choked.

Her heart contracted. He’d always been one of her favorite students and to see him like this made her feel absolutely desperate. She didn’t even know what to say.

As if he could read her mind he shook his head. “I didn’t do it, Miss Heaton. I swear I didn’t. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t.”

She wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how, not when she knew she couldn’t reassure him that everything would be fine. It was impossible to promise him anything. “They found you on campus,” she said carefully. “They said they caught you running.”

He groaned. “I was on campus because I’d taken you a gift.”

“But why were you running?”

“I was late getting home. I didn’t want my father to know I’d missed the school bus.”

She bit her bottom lip, bit down to keep her emotions in check. “Apparently someone saw you running from the office—”

“Not me.” He looked at her, eyes brilliant with unshed tears. “And maybe someone was running from the office, and maybe someone had stolen papers, but it wasn’t me.”

Sharif glanced from Jesslyn to the boy. “What do you know about the papers?”

Aaron’s jaw hardened and yet his eyes were filled with pain. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t.” And then he dropped his head, his shoulders slumping.

Jesslyn moved forward on her chair. “Aaron, if you know who did it, it would save you from serious trouble.”

“And if I tell you, he’d be in serious trouble and I can’t do that. His mom is already dying—“Aaron broke off on a soft sob. His head hung so low that a tear fell and dropped onto the floor.

Jesslyn inhaled sharply, knowing who he was referring to. Only one boy in the upper grades had a mom dying, and it was Will. Will McInnes. Will’s mother had just been moved to a hospice facility, and Will’s father was coping by drinking too much and then terrorizing the children.

She turned to Sharif. “I need to talk to you.” They stepped out of the room and stood in the narrow hall.

She told Sharif everything, about Will and Aaron’s friendship, how Aaron’s parents had done their best to include Will in their family life as Will’s family life unraveled. “Will is barely getting by,” she said, her eyes stinging. “He’s had such a hard year, and the only person who’s really been there for him is Aaron. And now Aaron’s leaving.”

“But why steal?” Sharif replied. “And why pull the alarm? He flooded the school, which destroyed nearly every classroom. He’s going to have a criminal record and his family will have to pay for the damage, damage that will be in the thousands.”

“Then we can’t tell anyone it was Will. We’ll deal with Will ourselves.”

“We will?” Sharif repeated.

“We have to. His dad has a fierce temper. I can’t bear to think what he’d do to Will if he found out about this afternoon.”

“So you’ll let Aaron, who just might be innocent, pay for the crime instead?”

Jesslyn could picture Aaron in her mind, could see his ashen face and the tear that trembled on his lower lash before spilling and falling to the cement in a wet plop. “No. We get Aaron off.”

“Jesslyn.”

She lifted her shoulders. “He didn’t do it, he can’t be punished. Will did do it—”

“So he should be punished.”