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The next morning, two local fishermen fished out his body and took the gold watch from his person.

Chapter 15

Mohammed was going to talk to her father when he returned from London. She was dizzy with anticipation. She knew that this was the right thing, though she worried about what his people would think of her. She knew once she was married, her family would be supportive.

The oak tree felt protective and safe as she waited for Mohammed’s return. She looked around the small wooded area and saw nothing. She brushed the feeling off as nerves over what she had endured through the separation from her family, being kidnapped, the sheik's unwanted attentions, fleeing into the night, her voyage back home and now her love of the sheik and their child.

But the feeling continued. The more she tried to shrug off the feeling, the more it intensified. It was the feeling of being watched. The property was so large and watched over by so many that she would never be alone.

The gardens were prized with roses, daisies, and hydrangeas handled by a retinue of gardeners. Her father's stables, which included her Arabian stallion and Irish-bred horses, included close to 30 men who worked from dawn to dusk keeping the horses in shape.

There was no shortage of eyes watching, and Katharine had grown up with servants. She plucked a small daisy from the ground and placed it behind her ear.

She wondered if this new feeling of being watched was paranoia of some sort caused by the pregnancy.

She thought of Mohammed speaking to her father and smiled. This was right. It didn't matter anymore what he was and where he was form. It didn't matter that she would have to make her life in a foreign place away from her family. He loved her and she loved him. She would go where he was. It had taken her too long to come to this simple conclusion. Together they would raise a family and be happy. He would protect her from Jamie. She would be safe in his arms.

The small wooded area was quiet and she called out, "Hello?"

A small bird called out but no human voice answered her. She looked across the trees and into the brush and over the river. There was nothing.

She stood and started walking. It was a feeling she couldn’t shake. She felt eyes upon her, watching her, taking in her form. It was a malevolent presence. She shivered.

She glanced quickly behind her, but she was still alone.

She placed a hand over her belly and then took a path that would lead her back into the sunshine and home.

***

"She goes out walking twice a week," one man said.

The other man nodded.

"I have seen her myself, so there can be no mistake."

Again, the other man nodded.

"Do you know what must be done?"

The man nodded.

"I will go over it once again. There can be no mistake. She will walk to the far property where the trees are tall and old. It must happen there. You will take the woman. If she struggles, you will knock her out. We can have no interference. I want her taken back to Arabia and sold into the white slave market. He will never find her there. If you follow my instructions, all should go well."

"Yes."

He stood up and away from the mercenary. The mercenary was cold-blooded and ruthless. It would go off without a hitch.

How many times had he watched her? It had been easy to gain access to the large estate. He had watched as the young witch walked along the bank of the river.

There was no mistaking why the sheik had fallen in love with her. She was lovely and womanly. He found her to be arousing as he watched her walk along the river bank. She was a woman that men would want to tame and make their own.

But he shook his head against such thoughts. He had to get rid of her. She must never rule Arabia; she was an Infidel. He would get rid of her once and for all.

Yasmeen had been stupid. She had been a woman and not worthy of success. But he would have no mistakes. And once they got rid of the white woman, the sheik would return to his normal self. The witch's spell would be broken.

He took the large purse of gold coins and handed them to the mercenary.

"Go," Abdullah said.


Tags: Nicola Italia Historical