“Yaaaah!” He kicked his camel, showing his urgency.
And the beast responded. He bent low into the wind and rain. The path ahead growing narrower, more rocky. The chorus of yipping in the distance behind them swelled until it braided into the howling wind.
The pack was closing in.
Rafiq’s heart beat faster. He kicked his animal to a full run, knowing that one slip would send them all flailing down either side of this narrow bridge between peaks.
He could feel Paige’s camel yawing from side to side as it was tugged behind his. “Hang on, Doctor,” he whispered to himself. “Just hang the hell on.”
The ground began to slope sharply downward and his camel’s body began to rock wildly from side to side. Camels didn’t do downhill well. Their legs moved in concert, and they tended to break into an uncontrollable, seesawing run, gathering speed with the incline.
Rafiq tried to rein his animal in a little, but it barreled maniacally down into blackness. Rafiq could see nothing, but he could sense the ground falling dangerously away on either side of their small caravan. He could feel the hollow emptiness of dark space beside them.
And he could hear the dogs clearly now, along with snatches of male voices, shouting. His heart pounded in his throat. He’d hoped the rain would have destroyed their trail, but these mountain dogs were uncanny trackers—and killers—once they got the scent. He and Paige weren’t going to make it…
His camel stumbled suddenly and balked to an abrupt halt.
Rafiq lurched forward in the saddle. “Yaaah!” He kicked at his animal, but it wouldn’t budge. Then he realized why. Water! They’d reached wadi Bi’sash.
Thank you, God.
Only trouble was, his camel didn’t appear to be a swimmer. Rafiq stroked the animal’s neck, whispered in soft Arabic, coaxing with his voice, nudging with his heels.
Behind them the chorus of the dogs drew louder. He could hear men’s voices clearly.
He nudged again, straining against his urgency to be gentle with his mount. And finally the camel moved, the sound of water beginning to slosh about its knees. Paige’s camel followed without protest.
Rafiq let go of the air he’d been holding in his chest.
“We’ve reached the wadi,” he called out in a hushed voice. “If we can wade through it, we can lose the dogs. The mist will hide us.”
“Is it deep?”
“It’s fine,” he lied. He had no idea how deep the water was, but it was their only chance.
He pulled Paige and her camel in behind him…deeper, and deeper. He kept going until the water lapped warm against his thighs. Any deeper and the camel was going to lose footing and have to swim. He wasn’t sure if it would hold their weight, the weight of the supplies, and stay afloat.
He heard the dogs yelping madly along the shoreline. One howled like a wolf into the wind. A man yelled. Then another screamed. They were angry, fighting amongst each other. A shot was fired. Then another.
God, he hoped the soldiers weren’t taking this out on the hunter. Rafiq could only imagine what they might have done to make him cooperate—and what they’d do to him if he failed. And he just had.
Rafiq vowed that if he ever made it back into Hamn alive, he would find that man’s family and do what he could to put things right.
But if they’d killed the hunter, the soldiers were shortsighted fools. They’d have no control over the dogs, no way of picking up their scent again later in the night. He and Paige would be safe for a while—at least until morning, if they could find some place to hide and rest.
A bullet splashed into the lake beside him. Then another, falling just short of his camel’s flanks. The men were firing blindly over the wadi. Rafiq swore softly, urged his mount a little faster, but moving him to the left this time, hoping to find shallower water. His camel found higher footing. Relief flooded through him.
Rafiq worked his camel so that every time he felt it go deeper, he’d coax the animal farther to the left, back into shallows. He figured he was working his way parallel to the shoreline by doing this.
He kept checking back, but Paige wasn’t making a sound behind him. She was hanging onto that camel in stoic silence. He swiped water from his eyes. He had to admire that control. He admired a hell of a lot about this woman.
Lightning cracked and he jerked in his saddle. The simultaneous explosion of light and sound meant the storm was right over them.
His camel slipped, staggered and regained balance. The lake bed was growing silty, the water getting shallower. They’d made it across.
He concentrated on navigating the animals over the boggy ground toward firmer land. They couldn’t afford a fall now, or to injure an animal. The camels were tired enough as it was. They all needed rest if they were to try and make a run for the Yemeni border at first light.
Another flash of light split the sky. Rafiq blinked sharply as the world flickered white, then black. The next crack of thunder followed a bit later, rolling into the distant peaks. The storm was moving on.
But in that flash he’d seen something—a black hole in rock, a cave entrance. Excitement nipped at him.
He guided the camels toward it, moving by memory.
Another flash illuminated the landscape for a nanosecond, and he saw they’d reached it. He halted the camels, couched them and dismounted.
“Wait here.”
He found the cave and fingered his way along the entrance, loath to use his flashlight lest the soldiers see it from across the lake. The inside was warm and the air smelled dry. The ground was dry, too, mostly sand and some small rocks and stones.
He paused, listening for the sounds of any animal that may be holed up in the cave. He could hear—and sense—nothing.
He flicked his flashlight on once he was deeper inside, and shadows leaped around the small halo. The cave was so vast he could not see the back of it. He lit a small emergency flare, tossed it into the depths of the cave. The entire enclosure exploded in stark pink-white relief.
There were no wild eyes watching him, but there were signs of a small kill, maybe a rabbit. He toed the remains. It had probably been dinner for a caracul—a wildcat indigenous to the region. But it was gone now. There were also twigs and dry branches, probably left by some nomadic traveler who’d stopped here for the night. His heart lifted. It was perfect.
He could feed and water the camels here, and Paige could get some sleep. With luck, the soldiers and dogs would retreat and be long gone by morning.
Rafiq led Paige and the camels into their new shelter. She removed her sodden chador and was as white as porcelain in the gleam of his flashlight, her eyes big and dark. She was in shock. He quickly untied the waterproof saddlebags and hobbled the camels at the entrance, using their bodies to block any light from the small fire he planned to build near the back of the cave. The camels would also ward off any wild animals that planned to return during the night, and hopefully alert him to any human approach.
He dragged the saddlebags into the cave, set his handgun on a rock, and made sure his scimitar was within easy reach. His dagger he’d given to Paige, and in the morning, he’d make sure she knew how best to use it.
He unpacked the bags, looking for a tarp, and was pleasantly surprised to find the carpet dealer had managed to include one, along with an assault rifle in two parts. He set the weapon aside and laid the tarp out on the soft dry sandy part of the cave. He told Paige that if she stripped out of her sodden skirt and blouse he could try and dry her clothes a little before sunrise.
He handed her a blanket to use as cover, along with a foil packet of military-style rations.
She undressed while he built a fire using the dry wood. As soon as it caught, he shed his wet tunic and T-shirt. He draped them over a rock near the flames next to her clothes, and he turned to Paige.
She was sitting on the tarp, her body turned to the warmth of the flames, knees pulled up against her breasts, the blanket draped loosely over her back. Rafiq tried
to keep his gaze confined to her eyes, not on skin that glowed like gold-brushed porcelain in the flickering light of flames. He tried not to obsess with the fact her panties were jet-black lace and matched her bra. He hadn’t noticed that in the dim light on the parapet, lost in the heat of passion. He swallowed, unable to avoid the sudden image of black lace under a clinical white lab coat, or the swell of her breasts hidden in a hazmat suit. He felt himself go hard and hot.
And angry. She was a loner, he could see that now. And vulnerable. That was what had made her so attractive to the Cabal, apart from her mental prowess. They had abused her personality, shaped her from the day of her parents’ death, for their own evil purpose.
It made his blood boil. If he ever got his hands on—
“Rafiq?”
He shook himself. He knelt down in front of her, worry brushing over him. “What is it, Paige?” he asked.
She leaned forward, her kohl-lined eyes intense, mysterious. “I need you,” she said in a whisper that sent nerves shivering over his skin.
No one had said that to him. Not in that way. And he understood. He felt it, too. His heart began to thud, his breathing became ragged.
But he held back. She was vulnerable right now. He couldn’t…
She let the blanket slip down off her back, and she unclasped her bra, allowing it to drop. Her nipples were dusky rose in color. A small bead of water escaped a wet strand of her hair, rolled down the swell of her breast and dangled from the end of her nipple, catching the reflection of the fire like a jewel.
Blood drained from his head, and his groin began to pulse with heat. He stared, mesmerized by the glittering drop of water. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to remember where he was, who she was, why they were here in this cave. Why he was back in Hamn. But it was all gone. Nothing existed apart from this moment. There was only Paige.
She reached out, threaded her fingers through his damp hair and drew him down toward her. Rafiq moved his mouth toward her breast, toward the drop of water, and he sucked it in softly, the inside seam of his lips just teasing her nipple. It hardened instantly under his mouth and she moaned softly, drawing his head more firmly to her breast.
He circled her nipple with a quick flick of his tongue as he ran his hand along the inside of her thigh until he felt the roughness of lace. He cupped her mound. She was hot, damp.
She moved her ankles further apart, opening access, her heat radiating out from her against his palm.
He grew so hard he felt like he might explode just touching her.
He moved his hands around her hips, began to pull her panties down. He was breathing hard. She lifted her hips as he peeled her underwear off, and dizziness spiraled through him at the sight of her. He sat back, undid his pants, took them off, his eyes holding hers as he did.
He knelt back down in front of her, placed his hands on her knees, pushing her open wider, exposing her to the flickering glow of the flames.
Chapter 14
23:55 Charlie, Asir Mountains, Saturday, October 4
He knelt between her legs. Firelight danced over his body, shifting shadows. She trailed her eyes down his chest, over his rippling abdomen. Down to his arousal.
Her breath lodged in her throat.
With a hand on each of her knees, he forced her open wide. She could feel the warmth of the flames against her, and she felt herself begin to ache with almost unbearable need.
He lowered himself slowly between her legs, his tongue finding her, teasing with small, slick movements. He hit a spot that made her writhe and lift herself to him, and he began to move with soft, longer, caressing, rhythmic strokes, going a little deeper each time until Paige began to shake against her control, until she thought she would scream for release.
But he stopped suddenly, sat back, opened her legs even wider, then leaned over her, covering her with his body and thrust into her sharply. Paige gasped with pleasure. She could feel him inside, hot, almost quivering with intensity. She couldn’t restrain herself. She threw her head back, arched up to him, clutching his back, forcing him to go deeper and harder, hungry, her want so raw it cut right into her soul.
He groaned and plunged deeper. Moving harder, rougher, his mouth over hers, his teeth scoring, his tongue slipping until she was driven to a peak that hovered between pain and thrill. And she shattered.
Her release cracked any control he had left. He drove into her with wild abandon as the storm beat outside, water running over the mouth of the cave in a glowing sheen.
And he came in a shuddering explosive release that caused aftershocks to ripple through her like the thunder that was rolling back into the hills.
They lay sated, naked and warm in front of the flames, and Paige knew she’d reached a turning point.
Tonight she’d touched both death and life. She’d climbed up into these mountains and been forced to tread a nebulous line between pain and pleasure, hatred and love.
Fear and trust.
And now, up here in the safety of this cave along the narrow spine of the Asir, she felt as if they were delicately suspended between yesterday and tomorrow. The past and the future.
And she was scared, dammit.
When that storm outside lifted and day broke, it was going to be downhill. They’d make a run for the Yemeni border, and who knew what lay beyond that?
She didn’t want to think about tomorrow. She didn’t want to think about anything. Because she liked it right here in this cave, suspended between it all. Right now, she was complete.
She fell asleep in his arms, breathing in his scent, relaxing into the security of his strength, listening to the crack and pop of the fire and the steady drum of rain outside.
Rafiq’s heart began to thud hard. This was it—this was the woman he intended to make his queen. If she let him.
He’d make her see that he was the one for her, that she could have everything she needed right here in Hamn, with him. He’d build her a Level 4 lab right inside the palace if that’s what it took.
The wind howled outside and a darkening sense of doubt circled. He shoved it away. He would not entertain doubt. He would believe. He would have faith that—although the road would be long, and lives would be lost—it would lead where he wanted. Home. With her. Here in Hamn.
And when he came back with Paige at his side, his land would be free.
He sucked in a fierce and shuddering breath, and he stroked her hair gently. Yes, he had faith.
When the sky turned pearl gray, Rafiq dragged his damp, smoky T-shirt over his head and pulled his hair back into a thong.
He gathered his weapons and stepped out of the cave. The world was deathly silent—no birds, no wind, nothing. And the air was close and hot, hanging with a thick kind of anticipation.
Or foreboding.
He shook it off immediately and started to prepare the camels. Once they were saddled, he walked to the edge of the cliff, raised his scopes, and scanned the terrain. Way down in the distance were desert plains that stretched to the Saudi Arabian border in the north and to the Yemeni border in the south. Sadiq’s men would expect him to try and cross into Saudi Arabia, because the border into Yemen was closed and hostile.
Yemen had become the archenemy of Hamn since Sadiq had annexed the strip of land that led down to the Gulf of Aden. It was that corridor of sand that would take them down to the coastal estuary. Sauvage would have a fishing boat waiting for them out in the open waters. They needed to be down at that estuary by nightfall. They were still seven thousand feet up, and they were going to have to run a military gauntlet to get there.
He punched Sauvage’s number into his phone and called in his ETA. Sauvage assured him the boat would be waiting. December was already in Djibouti and he would accompany the crew. When Rafiq signaled, December would use an inflatable raft and row quietly into the estuary. A chopper would pick Paige up from the fishing vessel once they were clear of the coast and evacuate her to Djibouti, where a fueled jet and pilots were already
on standby to fly her in to the FDS base on São Diogo Island. Dr. Meyer and his team were ready and waiting for her in the lab.
This was the endgame.
Rafiq signed off, and he felt her, behind him, watching. He turned slowly.
She stood in the entrance to the cave, her hair loose over her shoulders, a mercurial look in her eyes which right now were the same color as the pearl-gray sky.
“Hey, soldier,” she said, smiling softly, taking a step toward him.
Warmth blossomed through him. “Hey, princess.”
Her smile faded, a strange pensiveness shifting into her eyes. “I guess I should have said, ‘Hey, sultan.’” She paused. “How does one address a sultan the morning after, anyway? Is there a certain protocol, depending on the rank of wife in the harem?” An edge of bitterness had crept into her voice.
“Paige—” he took a step toward her “—that’s not fair.”
She blinked rapidly, pushed her hair back from her face. “I’m sorry, Rafiq. That was totally uncalled for. I just…I’m so sorry…I’ll get my chador and I’ll be ready to go.” She spun round and disappeared into the cave.
He cursed.
He should never have called her princess. It was a totally dumb thing to have said. It drew attention to his title, to the distance they yet had to travel between them, and now was not the time. They had to focus on keeping their heads clear and getting down to that ocean.
And stopping the Cabal.
But when she came out of the cave with her damp chador bundled under her arm and a haunted look in her kohl-smudged eyes, his heart spasmed, and he knew in his gut he had to do—say—something.
Paige needed to think positively—about getting out alive. About the future. And above all, he selfishly wanted to be assured that she was thinking positively about them. He wanted something that would carry him in her mind through the next hours, days.
A Sulta's Ransom Page 17