Chapter 13
Khal was furious. Tasha stepped into his office, nervously smoothing down her white silk blouse. She’d paired the blouse with a pair of black slacks, but she didn’t bother with a jacket anymore.
“What’s wrong, Your Highness?” she asked, standing in front of his massive desk while Khal paced back and forth behind it.
“I just don’t understand,” he grumbled. “Why the hell would Uftar do something like this?” He stopped pacing and frowned at her. “You still aren’t able to get a call through to Hasim?” he asked, referring to the current, but aging, ruler of Uftar.
Tasha shook her head. “His assistant says that he’s indisposed.” She grimaced. “I don’t know what that means.”
Khal watched her closely and Tasha held her breath, praying that he would ask the next obvious question. Okay, perhaps it was only obvious to her. But…would he?
“What do you think is going on?”
Tasha slowly released the breath, trying to hide her sudden glow of happiness. She stepped forward, eagerness to explain her opinion nearly causing her body to vibrate with energy. “I think the ruler of Uftar is sick,” she told him. “I have heard rumors that Crown Prince Amit has visited his uncle in the hospital twice already.”
Khal blinked, stunned. “Where are those rumors coming from?”
She shrugged slightly. “You know how the diplomats have back door methods of communicating.”
Khal nodded with resignation, crossing his arms over his impressive chest. “Of course. Sometimes, it’s the only way to get information back and forth.”
Tasha forced her eyes away from his bulging biceps and focus on the current issue. “Exactly,” she said, then couldn’t suppress her grin. “Well, I have formed a friendship, of sorts, with Hasim’s personal assistant. My contact is a fifty year old man who loves American cuisine. He’s a huge foodie so every time he wants to know how to cook an American recipe with genuine ingredients, he contacts me.”
Khal’s features softened into a stunned smile. “You’re kidding!”
“Not kidding,” she said with a chuckle, unconsciously bouncing on the balls of her feet. “The last recipe he asked me about was meatloaf.”
Khal looked confused. “What the hell is meatloaf?”
She laughed. “It’s delicious, especially the day after. But basically meat loaf is ground beef or ground turkey mixed with ketchup, mustard, spices and bread crumbs, and then baked.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then pulled his mouth into an expression of horror. “That sounds disgusting.”
She shook her head. “It’s amazingly good,” she countered. “And just about every family has their own meatloaf recipe and every person will swear that theirs is the best way to make it. Some people use barbeque sauce instead of ketchup. I add parmesan cheese and, instead of bread crumbs, I add stuffing mix to my meatloaf recipe.”
He moved closer, leaning down to brace his fists on his desk. “And…what do you serve this…meatloaf…with?”
She shrugged, her eyes sparkling, unconsciously stepping closer as childhood memories washed over her. “Oh, corn is my favorite side dish with meatloaf.” She stepped even closer. “But the real magic happens the next day.”
“What happens the next day?” he asked, his voice deeper, huskier.
She moved even closer, her thighs pressing against his desk. “I don’t know the scientific reasons behind it, but somehow, a meatloaf sandwich is just about the best meal in the world. In fact, my mother would double the meatloaf recipe whenever she made it for dinner, just so that we could all have a meatloaf sandwich the next day for lunch.”
“That sounds intriguing,” he replied, eyeing her with a very slight upturning of one corner of his mouth.
For a long, tense moment, Tasha stared into Khal’s eyes, mesmerized. His dark eyes seemed to see into her soul. Was he trying to tell her something? She wasn’t sure, and at the moment, it was hard to breathe. She wanted to…? What? What did she want to do?
Besides kiss him!
Tasha jerked back, startled at the thought. Kiss Khal? Her boss? The ruler of the entire country?
No, that was bad! Kissing was bad!
Memories of another man trying to kiss her, and not taking no for an answer, flashed behind her eyes and Tasha looked down. The words on her tablet were blurry, but after blinking several times, she was able to make sense of the words.
“Um…about the…uh…other issue, Your Highness,” she started, purposely using his title to remind herself of his role in her life. Or more specifically, her role in his life.
“Yes?”
She blinked and looked up from her tablet, pressing it against her chest like a shield. “I don’t think that anyone from Uftar did this. The explosion, I mean.” She hesitated for a moment, grateful when Khal didn’t interrupt her. “I don’t see any upside to Hasim attacking a power station.”
There was a brief moment of silence, then he asked, “Why not?”
She pursed her lips, thinking through the question. “Well, first of all, what would be his advantage? From what I’m hearing from the scene, the explosion happened in a small area of the power station. It didn’t even impact the power to the surrounding villages. So if the explosion was intended to cause problems with your people, then the explosion should have been here,” she said, flipping her tablet around to show him a map of the electrical power station. She pointed to a place on the map. “This is where the explosion took place. It’s right near the locker rooms and it went off during a shift change. That’s why so many people were hurt.” She used her finger to move the image across the screen. “But if the intention was to disrupt power, the explosion should have happened here.” She pointed to a different part of the plant. “Creating an explosion here would have shut down the entire grid.” She stepped back, looking at him. “Isn’t the point of a terrorist attack to cause as much disruption as possible?”
“Yes. That’s the way it’s usually done.”
“Exactly. Plus, we don’t even know for sure if a bomb caused the explosion. From what I understand, although I’m not a bomb expert, the damage didn’t match what a bomb would do. It was…well, it was almost as if someone were trying to hotwire the power station like they would a car.”
“Excuse me?”
She shrugged and flipped to another page. “Here, this shows how someone could hotwire a vehicle. Basically, one takes a screw driver and pulls the cover away from the steering column. Once the person finds the two wires that connect the ignition, they touch them together to create a spark that turns over the engine.” She stepped back again. “In other words, the placement and timing of the explosion doesn’t fit. No one died, although people were hurt. And the reports I’m getting,” she paused and flipped to another page on her tablet, showing him the extent of the injuries, “don’t promote the idea of a reigniting of anger between Lativa and Uftar.”
Khal stared down at the tablet, his features turning grim. Well, his face always looked grim. This expression was… more grim. He was like a grumpy bear.
A handsome, grumpy bear, she corrected.
“So, what’s going on?”
Tasha felt that old spark of energy. It had been missing for so long, she hadn’t even realized that it had been gone from her life.
She suppressed a smile. This wasn’t a time for happiness. This was a time to figure out what political machinations were in play. “I’ll still work on connecting you to Sheik Hasim so that the two of you can figure out what’s going on. But until the paramedics have cleared out and the investigators can get into the power station, I suggest that you assume something else is going on and this isn’t political.”
Tasha bit her lip and glanced towards the doorway. When she turned her attention back to him, he grumbled. “What else could it be?”
Tasha hesitated to voice her next thought. It wasn’t her place.
Except, she was on a mission to heal herself, body and soul. Tasha knew that she’d come so far. A year ago, she’d wanted only to be an efficient ghost; someone no one else noticed. But today, she felt…stronger and more whole. Because she’d spoken up. Correction, it was because she’d spoken up and someone had listened to her.
Nathan had stopped listening to her, plus, he’d also stopped asking her opinion during meetings. He’d wait to bring her into his office and ask her opinions on whatever topic was under discussion. After he’d listened to her advice, he’d then go out and use her words, take her advice but pretend he’d come up with the solution.
Tasha knew that, as an advisor to the senator, it had been her job to explain the various pros and cons to every situation. But Senator King had presented his points as if he’d thought of them all on his own. The man never gave her credit for her thoughts.
Hearing Khal publicly ask for her opinion, then act on her suggestions was…a heady experience.
“I think, when you go out to the accident site, that you should tell everyone that this wasn’t caused by Uftar’s interference,” she blurted out.
He sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. “You’re right. The sooner we quash the rumors about a foreign country interfering in our lives, the better.”
Tasha turned and headed back to her desk. But as soon as she reached the privacy of her office, she twirled with delight. “Yes!” she hissed and spun around to her chair.