“Thank you.” Nick pressed Sean’s hand in gratitude.
They continued to talk quietly as they waited, and after another hour, the door to the waiting room opened again, admitted a doctor still in surgical scrubs. He bowed to Sean. “Your Majesty, I’m pleased to report that Agent Chase is out of danger. We were able to extract all the bullet fragments and repair the damage to his carotid artery. He’ll need peace and quiet to heal, and some rehabilitation for the muscle damage in his neck, but he’s very strong. In a few months, he should be back to normal.”
Sean felt tears prick his eyes, and he didn’t bother to hide them. He nodded to the doctor. “Allah is to be praised. Thank you, Doctor, for saving his life. Both Akkadia and I owe him a great debt.”
The doctor bowed again. “He’s in recovery and will be there for several hours. If you wish to return to the palace, we will send word when he regains consciousness.”
With that, the doctor departed, leaving Nick and Sean alone. There was, Sean noted, a suspicious glimmer in the older man’s gray eyes, eyes that were so like Bash’s. He clapped Nick on the arm.
“He’s going to be fine,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Nick chuckled as he swiped one hand across his eyes. “I hope you mean that. I warn you, he’s a terrible patient. You might end up wanting to kill him yourself!”
Sean laughed. They were probably stuck in Akkadia until Bash could safely travel, but he was fine with that. His home was with Bash, no matter whether that was in a palace or in a hovel in the middle of nowhere.
30
“When are they going to let me out of this damned bed?” Bash grumbled, glaring at the nurse who was changing the dressings on his neck. He’d been stuck in bed for a week, unable to move for all the wires and tubes they had hooked up to him. It didn’t even matter that the room he occupied was in the palace proper rather than in a hospital. He was tired of sleeping, and he suspected the medical staff was slipping him something to keep him knocked out most of the time, just so he’d stay quiet. He hated being stuck in bed and related that fact to everyone who entered the room.
The one saving grace in all this was that Sean hadn’t been uninjured. Well, other than a few bruises, which couldn’t be helped when Bash had forced him to the ground. Sean had been present from the time Bash had first regained consciousness, standing by the bed with Nick by his side. Bash had been too loopy from pain medication to remember much, other than how happy he had been to see Sean alive and well and smiling at him. It was worth nearly dying just to know Sean had survived.
“Wait for the doctor,” she told him in a quiet voice, though the corners of her eyes crinkled in amusement. “You are recovering enough that I believe we can remove the drainage tube, which means you will be able to stand, perhaps even move to a chair. But you must be good, Mr. Chase, or I shall advise him to make you rest another day.”
“Oh, so it’s blackmail, is it? Fine.” He sniffed. “I’ll be good. Just please ask him to let me up, okay? I’ve had injuries worse than this, you know.”
She shook her head, then left the room. Bash ground his teeth, giving into his frustration, but fortunately, the doctor entered only a few moments later.
“I understand the nurse thinks your tubes can be removed,” the doctor said. “Let’s just see about that.”
The nurse was correct, and after a great deal of poking, prodding, and with the assistance of two orderlies, Bash was unhooked from everything except an IV bag, changed into a clean robe, then moved slowly to a hospital-type lounge chair. He was dying for a shower, but even he had to admit he felt weak once he’d stood up. But it was such a relief to be out of the bed that he hadn’t minded. He’d always been a fast healer, so now that he could move, he was sure his strength would return quickly.
After the doctors and the orderlies departed, Bash sat looking out of the window. He was in one of the inner Palace rooms that looked out on the courtyard garden, with its flowers and fountains. It seemed a lifetime ago since he and Sean had walked there, not knowing when the danger would be over. Well, it was over now, and Bash couldn’t wait for him and Sean to leave Akkadia at last.
As if his thoughts had summoned him, a perfunctory knock sounded on the door before it opened to admit Sean. He glanced at the bed, then over at where Bash sat, his face wreathed in a smile of pure delight.
“You’re up, that’s wonderful!”
Bash snorted. “Pardon me if I don’t get up, Your Majesty. I don’t want to spoil my image by falling flat on my face.”
Sean rolled his eyes as he closed the door. He peered out the window on his way across the room, then leaned in to give Bash a brief, hard kiss. “Definitely don’t want to spoil that macho image, Agent Chase.”
With a chuckle, Bash indicated the chair next to his. He wished they didn’t have to settle for a secretive kiss, but once out of Akkadia, he intended to make up for lost time. Assuming, of course, Sean hadn’t changed his mind. They hadn’t had the opportunity for a discussion about things since they’d had no time alone since the day of the funeral.
“So tell me, Your Majesty, what’s happened with Carapov?”
Sean lowered himself into the chair. “I just got word from Mansur this morning that Carapov has been spotted back in Russia, so we missed our chance to grab him. I suppose it’s Interpol’s problem now. But Akkadia has filed an official protest with the UN about Russian interference, and the news media is on our side, thankfully. Russia is pleading ignorance, of course.”
“Of course.” Bash rolled his eyes. “What about selecting your successor? Any luck on picking a new one?”
“That’s an entirely different can of worms,” Sean replied. “Since Majid was innocent, he’s the leading candidate, but I can’t stand the thought of him ruling Akkadia. Sheik Khaleel is further down the list, but I like him better. I just wish…”
When his voice trailed off, Bash reached out to touch his hand. “Yeah, I know. You’d rather have Mansur.”
“I wish I could find a way.” Sean reached into the pocket of his robe, pulling out an elaborately jewel-encrusted book. The cover was made of engraved gold with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires winking in the light from the window. “Remember what my grandfather said right before he died?”
“What was it… ‘the solution is in the Quran’?”
“I’ve been reading it cover to cover, trying to figure out what he meant,” Sean said, gazing down at the book. “Since he knew about my sexuality, I’m sure he wouldn’t have expected me to keep the throne and live a lie. Grandmother said he wanted the throne to go to Mansur.”
