That was news to Coop. The last he’d heard, the sheikh had reminded all three of them of their completely non-royal status. Dane had gone the “I hate authority” route, while Lan had slid into his whole “woe is me/I grew up in a trailer so no woman can love me” pile of shit. Coop…he’d seen the play for what it was at the time.
Back then, Tal had been in a bad place with Piper. He’d been a bear growling at anything that even halfway moved. Dane wasn’t known for his subtlety. Lan sometimes stepped in it—when he bothered to speak at all. So they’d made nice, big targets for the sheikh. When Coop had written off Tal’s craptastic mood and snarling outburst to not getting any, Dane and Lan had called him an overly optimistic Pollyanna and told him to shut the f**k up.
Coop shrugged. He was realistic, thank you. The other two could be morose morons. But they were his family.
“What are you saying, Your Highness?” Dane asked, his jaw squaring in that comic book, all-American hero way of his.
Tal turned to Dane. Coop’s stomach rolled. Here it came, the big emotional “I’m sorry” scene that had been building for six months. Fuck. Coop hadn’t gone into the Navy so he could have the verbal equivalent of dude hugs. He’d rather cut through the crap and put it behind them. “Let me translate. Tal f**ked up and he’s sorry. He’s cool if we go after Alea because he knows we’ll take care of her. Now can we move this along?”
Tal frowned Coop’s way. “That’s not exactly how I planned to say it, but yes. I had a very long apology planned, too.”
“Can’t we handle this like men?” Coop asked. “Just punch each other, then share a beer and we’re all cool.”
Dane’s lips curled up. “Sorry, Tal. Coop isn’t a big believer in the whole ‘emotional sharing’ thing. I think it’s because he grew up surrounded by cattle.”
Coop shrugged. Sometimes he missed his dad’s ranch. “I was raised by cowhands who were long on work and short on chatter. Sorry.”
A huge smile crossed the sheikh’s face. “Well, Cooper was succinct, but correct. Alea needs you. I’ve talked this over with my brothers, and we’ve agreed that we will approve the marriage if you can convince her to accept.”
“We will.” Coop smiled now. “But it’s not fair. You had it easier. You got to steal a bride.”
“We followed in the tradition of our ancestors. They would whisk a woman away to someplace quiet and f**k her until she finally agreed to marry them,” Tal said with a long sigh. “You’ll have to be sneaky. I doubt Alea will prove as accommodating or as easily deceived as Piper. Plus, we had the whole language thing on our side. Unfortunately for you, Alea is proficient in five languages. I don’t think she knows Swahili. Do any of you?”
Coop rolled his eyes. “I think we can all agree Alea is smarter than any of us. We’re going to have to rely on how hot we are.”
“That’s worked so well for us up to this point.” Dane rolled his eyes. “So please stop walking around in your boxers on the off chance that Alea will walk in, see your body, and fall at your feet.”
He elbowed Dane. It could have worked.
Law yawned, looking generally bored. “If you guys are done with the huggy portion of the evening, we could move on.”
Riley frowned at his brother. “Sorry, he’s the emotional equivalent of a lobotomized pit bull. Now for the bad news. There is no indication that Khalil had anything to do with the kidnapping. In fact, we talked to the private investigators he hired to look for the princess.”
“What?” Tal asked, nearly coming out of his seat.
Coop was confused, too. Khalil had been a violent asswipe bent on destroying the whole family. “He hated his cousins.”
“He hated everyone in line for the throne. Alea isn’t. And there’s no doubt he hired a small firm in California to search for her. It was actually a smart play. Those particular investigators have deep ties in South America.”
“It had to be a ruse,” Tal shot back.
“I don’t think so. Yes, he could have used it to point suspicion away from him if you’d thought he had something to do with the kidnapping. But it makes more sense to me that he would look for her so he could get his hands on her before you. That leverage might have been very interesting to a man like Khalil. Unfortunately for him, your investigators got there first,” Riley explained. “And the firm he hired doesn’t know anything we don’t.”
So if Khalil hadn’t been guilty, and the act hadn’t been random, where did that leave them? Screwed. Everything inside Coop tightened. Knowing that the ass**le behind Alea’s torment was still free to plot against her again would feed his nightmares. Random, they could deal with. It sucked, but the Lennox brothers had taken vengeance out on the men who had actually grabbed Alea from her university. He, Dane, and Lan found comfort in that. Even Khalil as the mastermind made him feel better. That f**ker was dead, and Coop knew that he and his buddies would watch over her and make sure nothing ever happened to her again.
But neither of the above wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
“So you believe that Khalil was in the dark, too.” Tal’s fingers splayed across the table as he leaned forward and cursed in Arabic.
Riley continued. “We’ve made a careful study of the flow of money of the abductors and the brothel where your cousin was held. It’s all a bit of a nightmare. The brothel was owned by a man who had close ties to the Delgado Cartel. The money filtered through there, but when the Lennox brothers took down that cartel and killed the Delgados, it splintered into three different groups. Getting any kind of financials on a criminal organization is difficult. Scraping figures together on one in disarray is nearly impossible.”
“So you’re saying you’ve reached a dead end?” Coop was already planning a trip to Colombia in his head. He would cut through all that red tape and just kill a bunch of f**kers until one told him what he needed to know.
“No. I’m saying I’m a genius and the world should really bow at my feet,” Riley quipped with an arrogant smile.
Law made a vomiting sound. “He likes to build it all up so he looks good. All he did was play around with his computer.”
“Luddite. I can cause more trouble with a few keystrokes than you can with all the guns in your arsenal. Now, I don’t have it all figured out, but I do have a very interesting pattern of deposits and withdrawals. If you look on page sixteen, I’ve documented what I’ve got.” Pages shuffled, and Riley went on. “I’ve managed to discern that the brothel’s business transactions were handled by the owner’s wife. It’s all routine and in cash until two weeks after Alea’s kidnapping. A wire transfer of twenty-five thousand hit a bank account the cartel used strictly for the brothels. Now, we all know they were selling women, but the same account then wires five thousand every ten days until two days before Alea was rescued.”