by Linda Conrad
She looked from him to the sheer wall of the cliff beside them and her eyes grew wide. “No way.”
It wasn’t fear he saw in those fantastic hazel eyes this time. No, not fear, but disappointment mixed with an odd determination.
“You go first,” she said before he could suggest it.
Nodding his agreement, he slipped the ten-foot long wool scarf out of his belt. He tied one end around her waist and the other to his own.
“Stay in my footsteps.” He turned, grabbed for a stringy saltbush and jerked it hard. When it held, he used it to hoist his body up to the first foothold in the rocks.
Nikki scrambled up right behind him, looking more like a mountain goat than a beautiful woman with robes flowing out around her. Silently, they made the climb. Then, together at the rim, they untied the scarf and peered over the edge.
The horses weren’t far away in an open paddock with a wooden fence. He could see about a half dozen trail horses grazing there. But Kalil had forgotten to mention that the path from the paddock to the gorge was a wide open space. Several outbuildings were scattered about the area; a hay barn, a square building that appeared to be for storage and even a long, tin-sided building that might be furnished with extra stalls or solar-style showers. Perhaps if the two of them ducked behind each of those buildings one at a time, they would be able to circle around and come closer to the paddock without being exposed.
“Stay with me. We’re taking the long way. Ready?”
Nikki nodded.
Without another word, Shakir took her by the hand and they scrambled over the rim of the gorge and ran full-out for the nearby hay barn. Out of breath beside the barn, Shakir crouched low and checked the area for any signs of life.
Except for the horses gently swishing their tails and chewing on the tuffs of sedge in their grass paddock, nothing stirred. It seemed too quiet. He wondered if it could be mealtime. Lifting his eyes to a building in the distance that might be used as a dining hall or mess, he saw a single light.
He didn’t like the feel of the situation here.
All of a sudden chaos exploded out of the quiet evening. A squad of soldiers on horseback rode onto the mesa from the south. A monsoon of dust rose around the dozen men as they slowed their mounts to a walk. Shakir was sure they were headed right for them.
“We have to move,” he whispered to Nikki. “They’ll be here at the barn or in the paddock within minutes, and they’ll see us if we stay too long.”
“But we can’t go back. It’s too open in the direction of the gorge.”
Shakir quickly decided on a Plan B. “The storage building. It doesn’t look like anyone’s used it in months. And it’s out of their line of sight. We can make it.”
But they had to go now. Staying low, he practically crawled on all fours to reach the far side of the squat, square building where a door was located. Nikki kept right beside him.
When they reached the door, he wasn’t surprised to find it padlocked with an old metal lock. Using the butt end of his rifle to break through the rust, he pushed the door open on squeaky hinges. He shoved Nikki inside and followed her into the darkness. Easing the door shut behind them, he prayed no one would come around to this side of the building to notice the lock was broken open until after the two of them were long gone.
One lone window, directly opposite the door, was covered in dust and dirt. No one could see in or out, but some light filtered through. Once his eyes became accustomed to the lower level of light inside the one square room, he could see what the Taj had been storing.
Half the space was taken up with tack; saddles, blankets and bridles—most of which looked in need of repair. On the other side of the room sat stacks of various-size boxes. Some were marked as medical supplies and food stuffs, others as ammunition. It seemed an odd combination until he realized every box was out-of-date by at least a year.
Since they hadn’t gotten rid of the stuff, Shakir imagined they were holding on to the out-of-date items in case of emergencies. If soldiers were starving or being attacked, they wouldn’t much care if the supplies might kill them first.
Shakir realized he needed to get Nikki settled fast. Rummaging through the frayed blankets, he checked each one over for fleas or mites. Once satisfied that they wouldn’t be worse off, he fashioned a sort of nest that was big enough for the two of them. Then he placed it directly under the window so as to hear what was going on outside.
They hunkered down just in time. Sounds of arriving horses and men approached, stopping nearby the storage building. Shakir didn’t need to see them to visualize what was happening.
The men had been on the trail for a while and they and their horses needed rest. Orders were shouted out for men to feed, water and groom the horses before anyone refreshed themselves.
“What’s going on?” Nikki could hear the men but Shakir knew she didn’t understand the language.
“They’ll be a while. But we can…” Suddenly two of the voices came closer to their window. Shakir put his finger to his lips and Nikki nodded that she understood.
A deep male voice was saying, “Yes, Captain. We encountered one Bedouin who we tortured and killed as instructed. He was no trouble. Only a naïve youth who thought he could sell Taj Zabbar soldiers information.”
The men outside the window laughed as though they’d heard a great joke. Shakir had to fight his rage. They talked too easily about killing. He killed whenever necessary. But he never treated it casually.
“What information?” The second male voice was firmer, a man in command.
“The boy said his tribe had given shelter to strangers. One, a big male who looked like he was one of the Bedouins, and the other a woman with honey-colored hair.”
“Before he died, did you get him to tell you where the Bedouin tribe was camped?”
The reply to that question was spoken too quietly to hear, but the next statement from the captain came loud and clear. “As soon as the horses are fed and rested, we ride. At daybreak if not before. Have no fear. We’ll encounter little trouble catching up to a slow-moving Bedouin tribe with women and children.”
Shakir was grateful that Nikki couldn’t understand what had been said. He hoped Kalil and his tribe had enough of a head start to beat these soldiers to the border. Then he remembered that Kalil as a teen had been a genius at negotiating rock trails and blind canyons. If anyone could hide a camp full of women, children and sheep from the Taj, it would be Kalil.
After a few more sharply issued instructions, the two officers’ voices drifted away from the window. The captain ordered a few of the men to stay at the barn with the horses and the others to leave for the dining tent for their food and rest.
Shakir drew his first breath since sitting under the window and shrugged out of his pack.
“What did you hear? Are they leaving so we can get out of here?” Nikki was smart enough to know the two soldiers had moved on and weren’t close enough to hear them talking anymore.
Just then a bright light exploded through the window. Nikki gasped and put her hand over her mouth.
“Take it easy,” he said soothingly. “I suspect they’re lighting torches or a few lanterns outside the hay barn in order to see the horses while they work. There’s no electricity and the soldiers will only need to see well enough to groom their stock. Most of the men are already leaving for chow.”
Nikki’s shoulders relaxed and she blew out a breath. “How long will anyone be out there?”
Her face was a picture of determination. Her eyes burned with their own kind of ruthless fire. He watched her chest heave as she attempted to even her breathing and calm down.
Looking at her made him suddenly hungry to see more. To strip her naked and feel all that willpower under his fingers. To lose himself in her fire and in the glory that he well remembered.
“A couple of hours. No more.” Forcing his gaze away from the temptation, he leaned back and used his pack as a pillow, trying to put a few more feet of
safety between the two of them. He had no right to want her this much.
“Promise?” The look on her face told him the word was a joke—that she understood he didn’t know any more than she did about when they’d be able to leave.
But he still heard the underlying concern and knew any delay meant that much more time away from her son. Without her saying as much, he was beginning to understand that each additional hour she had to spend in Zabbarán without her boy was driving her mad. She had seen for herself now how harsh the land could be. And how ruthless the people who lived here were.
The idea of her child facing such conditions without her being able to help him was causing Nikki to worry more and more about the boy’s welfare. When she’d first arrived in Zabbarán, before being taken prisoner, she must’ve thought her son was in a pleasant environment. With people who’d wanted him and would love him. Now she was slowly learning the awful truth, but she didn’t want to face those possibilities.
Though Shakir could see all of that in her face, he didn’t know how to make a difference. How to make the horror go away. He knew how much effort it took to hide one’s true feelings. He’d been doing it for most of his life.
A horse would take at least a day off their trip. It would’ve been his gift—the least and the most he could do. Now they were stuck here, spending precious hours and all he could give her was lust.
He should be ashamed on many levels. But nothing he said to himself seemed to make a difference. He wanted her as he had always wanted her. Perhaps more.
Nikki unwound the scarf from her head and let her lush hair fall loose to her shoulders. “The time seems to be crawling by. I may go nuts waiting.” He knew she was counting the seconds but was trying not to whine.
She started to lean back against the mountain of horse blankets, but sat up again quickly. “Ow. Something hurts.”
“Where? What? Let me see.”
“My shoulder.” She turned around and in the dim light he could see her dress was torn and blood was seeping out of the opening in the material.
“You’re injured. Do you remember how it happened?”
“No. All this heavy material kept getting caught on the rocks and bushes on the way up the cliff. I didn’t want anything to slow us down so I ignored it.”
“A wound could easily become infected in the wild, Nik. You can’t leave it open like that. I have to see it—treat it.”
She nodded sharply, then obediently slipped off the belt and reached for the hem of her dress. With his help on the side with the wound, she pulled the heavy material up and over her head.
Which left her clothed in nothing but a slightly worse-for-wear pink bra and panties. The undergarments might not be new, but they sent heat scorching through Shakir’s veins. The sight of her pale, creamy skin was more than he could take right now.
He tried not to look. But he was bound to see everything when he checked the wound. He didn’t want to touch her skin. But he would be forced to touch her in order to help.
Who would help him? Who could erase the sensual sights before him, or eliminate the lust-filled memories bombarding his mind?
He cleared his throat. “The wound isn’t deep, but the edges are jagged. A butterfly bandage should do the trick.”
“I’m glad to know I’m not dying.”
“Hmm.” He ripped open an antibiotic wipe from his pack. “Hold still. This may sting a little.”
She made no sound at all, but her eyes squeezed shut in response.
After cleaning it thoroughly and putting antibiotic salve on the wound, he drew the edges together with a bandage from his medicine kit. Leaning back, he inspected his work.
“That should hold.” It was only then that he noticed her eyes were tightly shut. “Still hurts?”
“Yes, a lot. That is, unless one enjoys pain the way some people I know do.” She gave him a wounded smile and he knew she was teasing.
But he wished like hell that he could take her pain into himself. It killed him that she was suffering. He’d come to Zabbarán on this rescue mission to keep her safe. Some job he was doing on that account.
“Oh, don’t make such a face,” she said with a chuckle. “It was just a joke.”
She rose up on her knees, put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him. Her lips were gentle, warm, as she settled against him. He was the one who turned the kiss to something else entirely.
He could no more stop what was happening than he could walk away from her. Holding her head steady with one hand, he deepened their kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth with an urgency his whole body was feeling.
She murmured her approval, dropped her hands and flattened her warm palms on his chest. He wanted her and another chance to make love to her after years of thirsting for her touch. He wanted everything.
Knowing full well he was not entitled to have forever, he settled for taking what was offered right now. With his body growing hard, he fought his savage nature and tried to slow things down. This was a moment to experience. To savor. The circumstances may not be ideal, but he could give her this. A few minutes to stop thinking and let herself feel.
Without breaking the kiss, he flattened his palm on her bare stomach and felt her quivering. Her skin felt like cool silk beneath his fingertips. He watched her pulse thrum at the base of her neck. She arched her back, and he slid his hand upward to cover one jutting nipple. Instantly, deliciously, she pebbled against his palm.
Breaking the kiss, he whispered, “I’d almost forgotten how responsive you are. How sweet.”
He shoved the bra away and flicked his tongue over the hardened tip. Kissing the underside of her breasts, he nibbled his way down to her stomach. Laving, lapping, nipping, he worshipped her—both body and spirit.
She reached for his shoulders as he slid his fingers underneath the waistband of her panties. Heat, wet and seductive, greeted him as he slipped his fingers inside.
Whimpering his name, she buried her hands in his hair. He tried to silence her by covering her mouth with his own, but soon found himself groaning with frustration at the slow pace he had set. She began to pant as his fingers slid deeper, and he had to swallow her tiny moans.
Swollen and slick and ready. Her internal canal clenched around his fingers and she rammed hard against his hand. For one second his brain fried with intense memories of times past.
Old realities mixed with new, and lost years crumbled to dust as she sat up, clinging to him. He was thrown back to another time. A softer time.
Her hands moved to his zipper and freed his erection, then her fingers closed around him. But he was too close to allow her the freedom. It had been too long for him.
He tried steady breathing and took her hands in his. The moment he inched away, she slithered out of her panties and reached to touch him intimately again.
Utterly uninhibited, she looked up at him. “Please.” The word was soft, breathless. “Come inside me, Shakir. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“Easy, love.” Laying her back against the hay, he covered her with his body. Oh, how he had missed this. Missed her. Her vital strength. Her soft curves nestled against his hard body.
The brutal beast within him rose dangerously close to the surface. He checked his natural tendencies by the sheer power of his will.
As he parted her legs with his knee, her breath caught on a throaty gasp. He couldn’t resist running his palms up the inside of her satin thighs, knowing it drove her wild. She thrashed and pleaded, raising her hips provocatively.
“Now,” she sobbed as echoes of the past shimmered into his present.
“Shh, my love,” he whispered against her ear. “They must not hear.”
She widened her eyes at that and he used the opportunity to press inside her waiting body. Man seeking woman. The way of destiny. Her body gloved him as he thrust home.
As if on cue, her eyes fluttered shut and an expression of pure bliss spread across her face.
“Open your
eyes, Nik.” He eased up on his elbows and held her head steady.
She obeyed and her eyes latched on to his in a bold gaze. He watched the building passion turn her hazel eyes stormy green. Then he saw the determined concentration on her face cloud over with desire.
As she gave herself up to his safekeeping, he set the pace, all the while fighting his dark, animal side. But both of them had been too long away from the opposite sex. Within minutes they hit a roller-coaster ride, free-falling together as he filled her with everything he had. His heart and his spirit freely given. Heart to pounding heart, they tumbled as one over that glorious edge into oblivion.
Trying to calm her jackhammering pulse rate, Nikki gulped in breaths of air and clung to Shakir.
When she could finally speak, her voice was a raspy, whispery disaster. “I’d never forgotten for one day how wonderful it feels to have you inside me. Not for one second.”
He raised his head and stared down at her. “This was a mistake.”
That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Not now when every cell in her body craved words of love.
Rolling off her, Shakir found the discarded Bedouin dress and held it out. “Let me help you get dressed. We need to listen and pay attention. The soldiers shouldn’t be in the paddock with the horses much longer. We have to be ready to move.”
With a sated body but a bruised ego, Nikki slipped the heavy material over her head and retied the belt at her hips. How could he treat their lovemaking so cavalierly? She felt sure that it had meant something to him. His eyes had told the story he now refused to tell.
She couldn’t help it, her heart was wounded by his silence and she wanted to press him in return. “Why haven’t you ever married, Shakir? I’m sure there were lots of women who would’ve been thrilled at the prospect.”
“There were a few women over the years.”
“But none that interested you enough for marriage? That’s strange. You asked me, why not one of them?”
He shrugged into his backpack and glanced up at the window, ignoring her. “Because none of them were you.”