The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  There wasn’t a flicker of emotion evident in their expressions as they gestured for her to move outside, the command enforced as the driver reached in and hauled her unceremoniously across the passenger seat and threw her down onto the ground.

  Two hands grabbed her shoulders and dragged her to her feet. She stood still, returning their heated looks with angry intensity.

  The driver reached out and pulled the cap from her head, then gaped in amazement and broke into a heated conversation with his fellow assailant.

  Kristi lifted a shaky hand and tucked some of her hair behind one ear. The gesture was involuntary, and both men immediately stopped speaking.

  Kristi fixed each of them with a scathing look, then pointed at her four-wheel drive. ‘Sheikh Shalef bin Youssef Al-Sayed.’ Then she touched a hand to her heart. ‘Shalef bin Youssef Al-Sayed,’ she repeated with soft vehemence.

  The men conversed in rapid Arabic, arguing volubly for what seemed an age, then they turned towards her, subjecting her to a long look that encompassed her slim figure from head to toe before settling with stony-faced anger on her expressive features.

  One word was uttered with such force that its explicitness couldn’t fail to be universally understood.

  It took considerable effort to hold their gazes, but she managed it, unwilling to respond in English, knowing that any verbal exchange would be totally useless.

  The car phone rang, its insistent summons sounding loud in the surrounding stillness, and she lifted one eyebrow in silent query.

  For several long seconds they seemed undecided as to whether she should answer, then the driver gave a brief nod and she scrambled into the front seat and snatched up the receiver. When she turned round the men were climbing into their vehicle, and, gunning the engine, tyres spinning, they roared at great speed down the road.

  ‘Kristi? Fouad. Shalef is on his way. Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m OK. The four-wheel drive hasn’t fared so well.’

  ‘And the two men?’

  ‘They’ve just left.’

  ‘Did you get the vehicle plate number?’

  ‘It wasn’t high on my list of priorities,’ Kristi informed him drily. She thought that she detected a faint noise and quickly checked the rear-view mirror, then swung her attention to the road ahead. Nothing. The noise grew louder and her eyes caught a movement to her right. A helicopter. ‘I think the cavalry is about to arrive.’

  ‘The CB and car phone automatically access the palace,’ Fouad revealed. ‘The instant you rang in I notified Shalef on his mobile net.’

  ‘I imagine all hell is about to break loose.’

  ‘For me it already has.’

  ‘None of this is your fault.’

  ‘I am responsible in Shalef’s absence. Therefore some of the blame falls on my head.’

  The noise was incredibly loud, the rotor-blades whirling up the dust as the machine settled down a short distance away.

  ‘I can’t hear a thing. I’ll have to hang up,’ Kristi shouted into the receiver, then replaced it slowly as the helicopter door swung open and Shalef jumped down to the ground.

  With a sense of detached fascination she watched as he strode towards the four-wheel drive. In a black thobe and red and white checked gutra he presented a formidable figure.

  Suppressed rage emanated from his taut frame. She saw it reflected in his harshly set features as she wound down the window and sat waiting for him to say something—anything.

  He opened the door and his eyes pierced hers, penetrating their mirrored depths. ‘You are unharmed?’

  Kristi wanted to laugh. Except that if she did, she’d never stop. Hysterical reaction, she recognised, and banked it down. This wasn’t the first tight situation she’d been in, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

  ‘I’m in one piece, as you can see,’ she dismissed lightly.

  ‘Then I suggest you get out of the vehicle.’

  The four-wheel drive wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry until some worthy soul jacked it up and changed the tyre.

  With brief economy of movement she slid from the seat and stepped down. He was much too close, his height and breadth much too...intimidating, she decided.

  ‘I’m sorry about this,’ Kristi began, indicating the vehicle with a sweep of her hand.

  ‘Shut up,’ Shalef directed quietly, and her eyes widened fractionally.

  ‘You’re angry,’ she said unnecessarily.

  ‘Did you expect me not to be?’ Hard words that had the power to flay the skin from her body. His eyes seemed to sear her soul. ‘I issued express instructions that you were to stay at the palace.’

  ‘I had a map,’ she said.

  ‘And resorted to subterfuge.’

  ‘Fouad had nothing to do—’

  ‘Fouad will answer to me. As you will.’ His gaze raked her slim form, noting the graze on one wrist, the light scratch above her temple. ‘The helicopter is waiting.’

  ‘I have a backpack in the four-wheel drive.’

  He gave her a searching look, then reached in and retrieved it from the floor. ‘Let’s go.’

  Kristi walked at his side, protesting as he placed his hands at her waist and lifted her into the cabin.

  ‘The rear seat. I’ll take the front.’

  It would have been difficult to do anything but comply, and, once seated, she secured the belt as Shalef swung up behind her.

  The pilot set the helicopter in the air, then wheeled it away in a north-westerly direction. The noise precluded conversation, and since she wasn’t offered a set of headphones she sat in silence and focused her attention on the swiftly passing ground below.

  She saw the road, and three vehicles blocking another. Her assailants, surrounded by a party of men wielding rifles. Were they the police, or guards in Shalef’s employ?

  Kristi heard Shalef issue instructions in Arabic and the acknowledgement of the pilot as he swung away from the scene.

  Were they heading back to the palace? She wanted to ask but dared not, aware that she would see soon enough.

  Within minutes she caught sight of a building, and her breathing quickened as the helicopter cruised down to settle on a helipad inside the compound.

  The hunting lodge.

  The engine cut out and the rotors slowed as Shalef swung out onto the ground. Kristi followed, catching her breath as he lifted her from the cabin.

  His eyes clashed with hers for an interminable few seconds, and she almost died when she saw the ruthlessness in their depths.

  Retaining hold of her arm, he led her across a large grassed area to the house, and once indoors he traversed a hallway and drew her into a room near its end.

  The door closed with a refined clunk, and the sound had an unsettling effect on her nerves.

  ‘Now,’ he intoned silkily, ‘tell me everything that happened. Not,’ he qualified, ‘how you evaded the palace security system and commandeered one of my vehicles.’ His eyes became faintly hooded, and she had the feeling that he was keeping a tight rein on his temper. ‘From the moment you were threatened by those two thugs.’

  Her chin lifted and her eyes were faintly clouded. ‘What will happen to them?’

  A muscle tensed at the edge of his jaw and his expression hardened with controlled anger. ‘They will be dealt with, and charges laid against them. Most certainly they face jail.’

  She shivered slightly, aware that the scenario could have had a very different ending if she had not been privileged with Shalef’s protection.

  ‘They probably wanted to alleviate their boredom by having a bit of fun.’

  His hand slid up to cup her chin, lifting it so that she had to look at him. ‘Saudi Arabian women are not permitted to drive,’ he relayed with soft emphasis.

  Kristi digested his implication in silence, unwilling to put a connotation she wasn’t sure of on the two men’s actions.

  Her eyes widened as they searched his, and her stomach executed an emotional somersault that s
ent warning flares to various pulse spots throughout her body, activating a rapid beat that was clearly visible at the base of her throat.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘At this precise moment I find it difficult not to make you sorry for the day you were born,’ he threatened softly.

  Apprehension feathered a trail down the length of her spine as she willed herself to hold his gaze. ‘Punishing me to appease your own anger will achieve nothing.’

  He released her chin and thrust both hands into the pockets of his thobe. ‘Your story, Kristi,’ he reiterated hardly. ‘All of it.’

  With deliberate detachment she relayed what had happened from the moment the men’s four-wheel drive had drawn alongside her.

  Shalef listened intently, his eyes never leaving her face, and when she finished he turned and crossed to the window.

  It probably wasn’t the time to ask, but she had to know. ‘Is Mehmet Hassan at the lodge?’

  ‘No.’

  Utter dejection dulled her eyes. Her trip to Riyadh had been in vain. ‘So he didn’t arrive,’ she said in a flat voice.

  ‘He flew out yesterday.’

  ‘So he was here,’ she breathed in sheer relief. ‘Did you speak to him about Shane?’

  Shalef turned towards her. ‘There can be no guarantees,’ he warned. ‘None, you understand?’

  Elation radiated through her body, turning her expressive features into something quite beautiful. ‘It’s the best chance Shane has.’ Without thinking she crossed to his side and placed her lips against his cheek. ‘Thank you.’

  Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, then one hand slid to her nape, his fingers spreading beneath her hair to capture her head, while the other settled at the base of her spine.

  Vibrant energy emanated from every pore, exuding an erotic power that she consciously fought against in an effort to retain a gram of sanity.

  Kristi saw his head descend as if in slow motion, and her lips parted to voice an involuntary protest as his mouth closed over hers.

  No man had ever kissed her with quite such a degree of restrained passion, and she shivered at the thought of what force might be unleashed if ever he allowed himself to lose control.

  He plundered at will, ignoring the faint protesting groan that rose and died in her throat, and the ineffectual punches she aimed at his shoulders.

  Kristi wasn’t aware of precisely when the pressure changed, only that it did, and there was a wealth of mastery evident as his tongue explored the softness inside her mouth, then tangled with hers in a swirling dance that took hold of her conflicting emotions and tossed them high.

  Almost of its own volition her body swayed into his, and her hands reached for his shoulders, then linked together behind his head.

  His hand spread against her lower spine, lifting her in against him, and his mouth hardened in demanding possession.

  The kiss frightened her, awakening sensations that tore at her control and ripped it to shreds. She wanted him, badly. So badly that when his hand moved to cup her breast she gave an indistinct groan of despair and closed her eyes, exulting in the moment and the heady emotions that he was able to arouse.

  When his mouth left hers she made a slight murmur of protest, then cried out as he teased a trail of evocative kisses down the sensitised cord at the side of her neck. His lips circled the rapidly beating pulse as he savoured it with his tongue, and she went up in flames, uncaring at that precise moment as his fingers loosened the buttons on her blouse.

  He dealt with the front fastening of her bra with adept ease, and she arched her throat as his lips sought one taut peak, tasting it gently, then teasing the engorged nipple with the edge of his teeth until she hovered between pleasure and pain.

  Just as she thought that she could bear no more, he drew it in with his tongue and began to suckle shamelessly. Extreme ecstasy arrowed through her body, centring at the junction between her thighs, and she gave a low, gratified groan when his hand slid to ease the ache there.

  It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Yet when his fingers sought the zip-fastener of her jeans she stilled, caught between the heaven of discovering what it would be like to share with him the ultimate intimacy and the hell of knowing that if she did she’d never be the same again.

  He sensed her indecision and moved his hand back to the base of her spine, trailing it gently up and down the vertebral column in a soothing motion that heightened her emotions even further.

  With considerable care he closed the edges of her blouse and re-did the buttons, then he gently pushed her to arm’s length.

  ‘I’ll instruct the servants to prepare something for you to eat.’

  Kristi wanted to close her eyes and dismiss the previous ten minutes. Yet such a feat wasn’t possible. Somehow she had to reassemble her emotions into some sort of order and act as if everything was normal. If he could, then so could she.

  ‘I’m not hungry.’ She had to look at him, and she managed it bravely.

  ‘If you should change your mind, just go into the kitchen and help yourself.’

  She didn’t want to ask but the words tumbled out before she could halt them. ‘When will you be back?’

  ‘Before dark.’

  He turned and left the room, and she could hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

  Kristi stood where she was for a long time, then she stirred and looked round the room, noting the masculine appointments, the king-size bed. She walked to the en suite bathroom and examined the spa, deciding on a whim to fill it and take a leisurely bath.

  Half an hour later she switched off the jets and climbed out, then towelled herself dry. She crossed into the bedroom and extracted fresh underwear from her bag, donned clean trousers and blouse, then went in search of the kitchen.

  The lodge was reasonably large, comfortably furnished, and entirely male. Kristi wondered idly if Shalef ever brought any women here, then dismissed the idea. He had homes in capital cities all over the world. Why bring a woman here, when he could woo her in luxurious surroundings in an exotic location?

  She found the kitchen and discovered it occupied by a middle-aged woman and a young girl. From the aroma permeating the air it was apparent that they were preparing a meal. Simultaneously they turned to look at her as she entered their domain.

  The older woman beckoned as she crossed to a bank of cupboards, took out a plate and cutlery, then crossed to the stove and ladled a generous portion from each pot onto the plate.

  It was more than Kristi could possibly eat, and she used sign language to indicate that she required less than half. Seconds later she was shown into an informal dining room and seated at the table.

  The food was good, the meat tender and succulent, the vegetables cooked with herbs, lending a delicate flavour.

  The afternoon seemed to drag, and she wished that she had something to read...anything to pass the time. There was a television somewhere, for she’d seen a satellite dish when they’d flown in. Perhaps if she went on a tour of the lodge she’d eventually find it. There might even be stereo equipment and compact discs.

  Kristi discovered both in an informal lounge adjoining the games room, and after checking the electronic remote control she switched on the television and went through numerous channel changes before settling on one.

  It was after five when she heard the sound of vehicles returning, and she crossed to the window to watch as four men exited one Jeep and three stepped down from the other.

  Shalef was easily identifiable, and she wondered which of the men were friends and which were staff. More importantly, did they speak English? If not, conversation over dinner was going to prove difficult.

  From the sound of their voices it seemed that they’d had a successful day. There was deep laughter, followed shortly by the closing of doors as the men retired to their rooms to wash and change for the evening meal.

  ‘I thought I might find you here.’

  Kristi turned in surprise, for sh
e hadn’t heard Shalef enter the room. His black thobe had been exchanged for one of dark brown, and he presented an indomitable figure. A man who held sufficient power to shape his own life and change the lives of many of his fellow men. His effect on women didn’t need qualification.

  ‘You have a comprehensive audio-visual system,’ she complimented lightly as she rose to her feet. His height was intimidating from a seated position, and she felt the need of any advantage she could gain.

  He inclined his head in silent acknowledgement. ‘Dinner will be served in half an hour.’

  She looked at him carefully, noting the fine lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, the vertical cleft slashing each cheek, and the strong jawline curving down to a determined chin.

  Although she felt at ease in the company of men, she was aware of the segregation of the sexes in this country.

  ‘It won’t bother me if you’d prefer to dine alone with your guests.’

  His eyes darkened fractionally and he made an impatient gesture. “They know you are here, and I have no inclination to hide you away in a separate room.’

  Kristi effected a slight shrug and cast her clothes a rueful glance. ‘I’m not exactly dressed to impress.’

  ‘You are not required to impress,’ Shalef returned with mocking amusement. ‘Shall we join our guests?’

  The four men varied in age from early thirties to mid-fifties, and their status was evident in their distinguished bearing and demeanour. A Western woman in their midst was viewed with polite circumspection, and if they thought Shalef bin Youssef Al-Sayed had temporarily lost a measure of his sanity they were careful by word and action not to give a hint of this.

  English was spoken throughout the evening, but although the conversation flowed easily Kristi gained the impression that her presence was an intrusion.

  After coffee had been served she excused herself and bade the men goodnight.

  In her room she shed her clothes, removed her bra and briefs, handwashed both and draped them over a towel stand in the en suite bathroom to dry, then she slid between the crisp, clean sheets of the king-size bed and switched off the lamp.

  The darkness was like an enveloping blanket, and she lay staring sightlessly ahead, her mind active as she weighed Mehmet Hassan’s influence in negotiating Shane’s release.