The Sheik's Mistress

by Brittany Young

  She watched as it peaked and then dimmed into night.

  Suddenly she realized that the heat had faded. In fact, it was almost cool. Not by Wisconsin standards, of course, but by Sahara standards it was really pleasant.

  Jensen lay on her makeshift bed and rested her head on her backpack. Hunger gnawed at her. Thirst made swallowing difficult. But she’d made it through the day.

  If this were one of her novels, her hero would come riding to her rescue, sweep her up in his arms and carry her away.

  She smiled.

  Maybe tomorrow.

  Then it was time to sleep.

  Chapter Four

  A roar thundered overhead and the earth beneath her shook.

  Jensen, her heart racing, her hands over her ears, shot straight up from a sound sleep.

  Looking out from under her little lean-to, she saw military jets flying low over the sand.

  Maneuvers, no doubt.

  She didn’t even bother to leave the shade of the tent to wave at them. At the speed they were going, they’d never see her anyway. And what if they did? She was just some desert creature. How could they possibly know she needed help?

  As she watched, the jets turned in the distance and came back to buzz her again.

  She’d always loved military jets with their power and precision. There was something very sensuous about the vibration they left behind. She felt it now.

  And then there was silence.

  Another day.

  Jensen rationed herself down to just coating her tongue with water. She spent the day beneath her shelter, conserving her energy and her need for water.

  But she was so thirsty. So incredibly thirsty. Her lips were dry and beginning to crack.

  Her lips!

  Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out her lip moisturizer and liberally smeared it on. It helped.

  Strange. Jensen wasn’t a hopeless kind of person. On the contrary, she was usually very upbeat about things. But, in this situation, logic defied any hopeful attitude she attempted.

  Logic told Jensen that she was going to die. She knew with complete certainty that if no one found her in the next eighteen hours, it would be too late.

  And she found she was amazingly accepting of it.

  Pulling out her journal, she began to write about what she was feeling; regrets about things done and undone.

  Then-she set it aside and watched from the safety of her shelter as the sun passed its peak in the sky and started down.

  That’s when she felt it.

  Another vibration.

  Not like the jets, though. This one was barely noticeable at first, but grew stronger and louder as the minutes passed.

  An earthquake?

  Jensen rose slowly to her feet and looked in the direction of the noise. At first, all she could see were clouds of dust rising in the hot air.

  A sandstorm?

  But then she saw the horsemen, their desert robes flowing, riding straight toward her. She counted four of them. Maybe more. It was difficult to see.

  Help at last!

  Moving away from the tent, she ran toward the riders, waving her arms at them. They were within a hundred yards when she suddenly sensed something behind her and turned to find a horseman just feet away. Before she could react, he leaned toward her, grabbing her around the waist and hoisting her onto his horse in front of him.

  “What are you....” she began. “Put me down!”

  The man pulled sharply on the horse’s reins to stop it in midgallop. The horse automatically reared, slamming Jensen’s back into the man’s strong chest.

  “I said put me down!” she demanded as the horse danced restlessly beneath them.

  “Don’t speak,” said the man against her ear.

  Jensen turned her head and found herself looking into a pair of familiar blue eyes. “You again!” she said furiously. “Always attacking me from behind. What’s wrong with you?”

  “If you value your life,” said Michael, “and mine—you will be silent until those men leave.”

  She looked over Michael’s shoulder and saw the indigo-robed bodyguard seated on a horse just a few feet away with a camel in tow. “You’re a psychopath. A card-carrying psychopath. I don’t have time for this nonsense. You said you didn’t want to help and I took you at your word. Well, I don’t need you to rescue me, either. Now, let me off this horse or so help me I’ll bite your other hand.”

  “Silence!” hissed Michael as he stared straight ahead. “Not another word.”

  It was the way he said it. Jensen stopped arguing and turned to face the approaching strangers. She’d been so overjoyed just to see another person that she hadn’t noticed anything else about them.

  Now she realized there was an ominous quality in their movement; their bearing. Something she hadn’t sensed in her rush for rescue.

  One man stopped his horse ahead of the others, perhaps ten feet away. He spoke in Arabic.

  Michael’s arm tightened protectively around Jensen’s waist as he responded with one word.

  The other man’s eyes moved over her body with deliberate and rude slowness, tracing every curve and making it abundantly clear to Jensen what her fate would have been with him.

  She pressed her body closer to Michael’s.

  As the other man rode closer, bringing his horse up next to theirs, Michael placed his mouth near her ear. “Don’t move, Jensen,” he whispered. “Whatever happens, don’t move. Don’t speak.”

  Jensen sat rigidly as the man on the other horse reached out and touched her hair. He stroked it for a moment, then lifted her ponytail and let the strands run through his fingers. He seemed to come to some kind of decision and spoke again.

  As before, Michael answered with one word.

  The other one’s eyes narrowed on her for a long time, no doubt pondering his next move.

  Ali moved closer. His hand was on the hilt of his sword.

  The other man saw this.

  Without saying anything else, he turned his horse and rode away with the others following him.

  Jensen was more shaken than she cared to admit. “What was that all about?”

  Michael climbed down from the horse then put his hands at her waist as he lifted her to the ground, leaving them there as he looked into her eyes. “He wanted to buy you from me.”

  Jensen looked back at him in disbelief. “You’re not serious. You can’t be.”

  “If he’d gotten to you first, I would have had to buy you from him. Although judging from the way he was looking at you, I don’t think he would have sold you to me.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “At least not right away...”

  Jensen stared at him without smiling. “You think this is funny? You people are all nuts.”

  “Actually, it’s not funny at all,” said Michael. “There’s quite a lively white slavery trade in this part of the world. A woman who looks like you with your blond hair and green eyes and, frankly, your figure, would bring top dollar.”

  Jensen shivered with repugnance. “How did you know I was out here?”

  “A young man by the name of Yusef tracked me down. He was concerned and thought I should be as well. Would you care to tell me what’s going on?”

  “I got a call from Clayton Turner at the American Embassy yesterday morning telling me he had word of my brother and was sending a guide to take me to the last place Henry was seen. This man showed up at the hotel, handed me a note from Turner, drove me out here and when I awoke this morning, he was gone.”

  “Would this be the note?” he asked, handing her a familiar slip of paper.

  Jensen glanced at it. “Yes. But how did you...”

  “Yusef,” they both said at the same time.

  Jensen shook her head. “I don’t understand what’s going on. Why would someone from the embassy send me out here with a guide like that? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I spoke with Clayton Turner yesterday,” said Michael, “and he told me he never called you
and never sent a guide.”

  “If he didn’t,” said Jensen with a frown, “who did?”

  “Clearly someone who wants you out of the way.”

  “Because of Henry?”

  “I’d say that’s a reasonable conclusion.”

  “But why?”

  “That’s what we have to find out.”

  Jensen looked at Michael for a long moment. “Are you saying you’re going to help me?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “You certainly do. You could just walk away and leave me here to die.”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” he said evenly.

  “I’m sure it did. You could also take me back to the city and leave me there.”

  “That thought also crossed my mind.”

  Jensen tilted her head to one side. “But you aren’t going to do either of those things, are you? Why not?”

  “Henry is my good friend. You’re his family. He would want me to see to your safety. And clearly someone wants you out of the way badly enough to leave you in the middle of the desert with no provisions. Besides which, I think you’re right. Something is fishy about the way Henry disappeared. It was a little too sudden, even for Henry.”

  “I’ve already told you that Henry is completely reliable,” said Jensen defensively.

  “In your world, the world of family, that may well be. He is a man who keeps his promises. But in the world of our friendship, he’s been known to chase a woman or two, not to mention potential story leads, and not keep to any schedule. That’s why I wasn’t overly concerned when you called.”

  “But you are now?”

  “He’s been gone too long. Even if you had left when I asked you, I would have undertaken my own investigation.”

  Jensen, with her sunburned cheeks and bright green eyes, smiled at Michael.

  She took his breath away. He couldn’t afford to let any woman make him feel that way, much less some American romance novelist. He went immediately on the defensive and withdrew from her.

  “And now,” she said, “may I please have some water?”

  Michael signaled his bodyguard who instantly handed him a bottle of water. Michael opened it and handed it to her. “Just drink in little sips for now.”

  Jensen did as he suggested. “It’s difficult. I want to chug the entire bottle.”

  “I know, but take your time.”

  “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come after me.” Even as she warmed toward her brother’s friend, Jensen felt Michael withdraw.

  Her smile faded. “Do you have any leads?”

  “Yes. I discovered that Henry apparently overheard a conversation about a white slave auction in a desert village called Adjani that was coming up in a few days and decided to wangle himself an invitation so he could write a story about it.”

  “And?”

  “He made arrangements for a trek across the desert to get to Adjani and that’s the last anyone saw of him.”

  “So I was right in my thinking last night. He could have ended up stranded out here the way I just did?”

  “That’s one possibility. Or he could already have reached Adjani safely.”

  “What do we do?”

  “I’ve sent search planes out over the desert. Naturally it’s impossible for them to search the whole area, but they can cover a lot of ground. That’s how I—” he hesitated over his next words “—found you.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t swoop down in a helicopter to rescue me.”

  A corner of his mouth lifted. “I thought horses more in keeping with your romantic novels.”

  A dimple flashed in her cheek. “What about a car?”

  “Still not up to your standards.” He almost smiled. “The truth is that where we’re going from here, cars can’t travel. And I didn’t want to bring the military into this in any obvious way, which a helicopter would have done.”

  “What about the jets?”

  “Military maneuvers, plain and simple. No cause for concern by neighboring countries.”

  “You put a lot of thought into this rescue.”

  “One must if one is to avoid war.” He looked at her for a long moment. “I suppose it’s pointless of me to ask you to go home and wait for word.”

  “Pointless,” she agreed.

  “I thought as much. It would appear, then, that you and I will be going to Adjani together.” He inclined his head toward the car. “Take what you need for tonight and tomorrow. I’ll send someone for the rest of your things.”

  Jensen leaned into her tent and pulled clean clothes out of her suitcase, her toiletries and her journal and stuffed them into her backpack. She went back to the car and searched for her purse, but it was gone, along with her money and passport. No doubt taken by the guide.

  “Ready?” asked Michael.

  She took a last look around. “Yes.”

  Michael gave her a hand up onto the horse, then swung himself up behind her as he shouted something to Ali.

  The bodyguard inclined his head and rode about twenty feet in front and to one side so that the sand churned up by his horse’s hooves and those of the camel didn’t fly up at them.

  The pace was slow, the horses moving in rhythm with the camel. Jensen relaxed after a few minutes and allowed herself to lean her back against Michael’s chest. His arms tightened on either side of her as he held the reins.

  Michael was exactly right. Everything that was happening was like a scene from one of her novels. Woman lost in desert, rescued by the handsome sheik and riding on horseback to...

  She turned her head slightly. “Where are we going?”

  “To one of my homes.”

  ...one of his homes, finished Jensen in her mind.

  “But we’ll have to break our journey at one of my permanent camps this evening before continuing on.”

  “Why can’t we just go straight to Adjani?”

  “It’s difficult to reach. There’s an airport, but it belongs to another sheik. The only other access is one very bad road. That’s why the slave traders use it for their auctions. Strangers are noticed and it’s impossible to stage a raid without warning the entire city that it’s coming. We’ll have to blend in as best we can. That means you have to completely change your appearance.”

  “Is that why we’re stopping at your home?”

  “Yes. My sister will help you with your mannerisms and your clothing.”

  “My mannerisms?”

  She didn’t see Michael smile, but she sensed it. “You carry yourself in far too bold a fashion. You need to walk with smaller steps with your head slightly bowed, eyes lowered. You must never look at men directly. You must never speak to them unless spoken to first.”

  “Anything else?”

  “You must keep your body, your face and your hair covered at all times.” He moved his mouth closer to her ear, and Jensen felt an unaccustomed jolt through her body at the contact. “As you are now, you dangerously stand out. If you insist on going, you have to look like everyone else. You must not—cannot—draw attention to yourself. Do you understand this?”

  “Yes.”

  “I mean it, Jensen. From here on, we do things my way. This is my part of the world, not yours. If you can’t do as you’re told, you’ll be putting both us and your brother at risk.”

  “I understand. Really. I just feel helpless. Like Henry needs me and I’m wasting time.”

  “I’ve already sent a man ahead of us to discreetly find out what he can.”

  “Thank you.”

  Silence fell between them.

  They rode in the heat for more than two hours with stops for water carried by Ali for the animals and themselves. By the time Jensen spotted the tent, a splash of blue against the monochromatic beige of the sand, she was drenched in perspiration.

  “What I wouldn’t give for a long, cool shower,” she said as she slid from the horse.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for a sponge bath.�
��

  “I know. It was just a wish.”

  “And you might as well wait until it’s time to sleep. It’s nearing sunset now. We’ll go to bed soon thereafter and get an early start to my home in the morning.”

  Ali took the horses to a canvas lean-to where there was food and water.

  Jensen watched as he walked away from them. “He’s a frightening man.”

  “Yes,” said Michael, “he is.”

  “Would he really have killed me in that hotel room if he’d thought I were there to harm you?”

  “Without blinking an eye. Just as he’ll now kill to protect you because you’re a friend of mine.”

  “Even though he doesn’t like me?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “The way he looks at me.”

  “He looks at everyone the same way.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  The corners of Michael’s mouth hinted at a smile. “Make yourself at ease here. Have something cool to drink. We’ll eat soon.”

  “Thank you.”

  He walked away from her, from the small encampment, across the ripples of undisturbed sand, up a dune and stood looking out at the desert, his hands clasped behind his back.

  Ali, apparently finished with the horses, walked past her and ducked through the doorway of the tent.

  Jensen didn’t know what to do with herself. She wasn’t about to go inside the tent, curious though she was.

  Rather than remain where she was, she followed Michael up the dune. The walk turned out to be harder than it looked. The sand shifted beneath her feet and there were times when she lost three steps for every one she took. But finally she made it to the top and stood beside Michael, looking into the distance to see what he saw.

  For a long time, as the sun set in an explosion of color, no words were spoken. None were needed.

  “You’re one of those rare people who knows how to be completely silent and still,” said Michael.

  “Probably because I spend a lot of time alone.”

  “By choice?”

  “Yes. And you?” she asked.

  “I’m a private person. Or used to be. I never expected to be in this position.”

  “Yusef told me about what happened to your father and brother. I’m so sorry.”