Desert Rogues Part 2

by Susan Mallery

  What hurt her was that her feelings were so different. Since sharing a bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about being with him in other ways. She wanted to talk to him, get to know him, laugh, tease, make memories. She wanted him to hold her close instead of stiffening every time she was near.

  “Are you sure this is safe?” her mother asked as they crossed the stone courtyard leading to the stable. “Aren’t there robbers and pirates in the desert?”

  “Pirates are on the ocean,” her father said gently. “However, we’re going to have to deal with robbers.”

  Emma held in a sigh. She loved her parents very much but in the last couple of days they’d really started to get on her nerves. They weren’t open to any new experiences and, despite the wonders of the palace, they kept talking about how much they wanted to go home. When she encouraged them to make plans they refused, telling her they wouldn’t leave without her. The thought of two months in such close quarters made her teeth ache.

  But that was a problem for another time. Right now she had to worry about the fact that Reyhan stood by the front of the stable, and upon seeing him she felt her heart rate quadruple while her thighs began to quiver.

  “Good morning,” Reyhan said as they approached.

  He wore riding boots, dark slacks and a loose white shirt. Despite the short hair and freshly shaven face, Emma had the thought that he looked as dangerous as the pirates her mother feared.

  But as appealing as she found him, he didn’t seem to return her interest. He neither looked directly at her nor acknowledged her personally. He motioned to a large open vehicle—part roofless SUV, part topless van. There were three rows of seats.

  “You’ll be comfortable for our trip out to the oasis.”

  “Is it safe?” her mother asked. “Are there a lot of wild people and robbers on the loose?”

  Emma winced. “Mom,” she said quickly, “Bahania is a very civilized country.”

  Reyhan’s expression didn’t change. “The laws of the desert offer hospitality to all who enter. You will be welcomed by my people and treated as an honored guest.” He motioned to the vehicle.

  Emma’s parents exchanged a glance before cautiously stepping inside. She hung back, wanting more than an impersonal trip with a man who was doing his best to become a stranger.

  “I thought we’d be riding,” she said.

  He looked at her for the first time that morning. She felt the impact of his gaze all the way down to her already-curling toes.

  “Do you know how?”

  “I’ve had a few lessons.” When she was twelve. “I’m a whiz on horses made of wood, but I can probably handle the real thing if he or she is gentle and doesn’t think tossing me would be good for a chuckle.”

  Reyhan’s dark eyes didn’t flicker, not did his mouth even twitch. When exactly had he turned into a man of stone?

  “Wait there,” he said, and walked into the stable.

  “Emma, what are you doing?” her mother asked fretfully.

  “Reyhan and I are going to ride.”

  Both of her parents shrank back in their seats. “You can’t.”

  “Sure I can. It will be fun.”

  Her father frowned. “When did you get so adventurous?”

  She considered the question. “I can’t give you an exact date,” she admitted, knowing her change of heart had something to do with finding out nothing in her life was as she had first thought. Her parents weren’t perfect. In fact they’d lied and kept the truth from her. Sure their actions had been in the name of keeping her safe, but she’d been an adult. The decisions hadn’t been theirs to make. Not only that, but she’d been married for the past six years and hadn’t had a clue. Information like that was bound to produce a change.

  Reyhan returned, leading a beautiful white stallion. Emma might not know much about horses, but she’d heard rumors.

  “Isn’t he going to be too much for me to handle?” she asked, trying not to back up as Reyhan and the horse approached. Up close the animal seemed extremely large.

  “He can have a temper, but he’s very fond of the ladies.”

  The horse in question tossed his head, then seemed to give her the once-over. He looked large enough to pound her into the ground with just one hoof—the thought of which didn’t exactly give her a warm fuzzy feeling inside.

  “Great,” she murmured. “A sexist horse. What’s his name?”

  For the first time in days, Reyhan smiled at her. “Prince.”

  “How appropriate.”

  She approached the powerful horse and tentatively stroked his nose. Prince stepped in close and rubbed his head against her arm, then bumped her side and exhaled.

  “Is he flirting with me?” she asked, not wanting to know what the big animal would do if he lost his temper.

  “Yes. He likes you. We’ll ride out and take the Jeep back.”

  Reyhan murmured something to the horse, then moved to its side and made a step by lacing his fingers together. Emma remembered enough from her long-ago lessons to know she was expected to jump right up in that saddle. She sucked in a breath for courage and put her foot in his hands.

  Not only was Prince’s back about four hundred feet from the ground, the English saddle she settled in offered about as much protection as a handkerchief.

  “There’s nothing to hang on to,” she said rather desperately as Reyhan handed her the reins.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  She would be maimed and possibly crippled, she thought, fighting fear. Reyhan disappeared into the stable, presumably to get his own horse.

  “Emma, you can’t ride that beast,” her mother said. “It’s not safe. Come down right now and sit with us.”

  The order gave her the impetus to stiffen her spine and smile brightly. “I’ll be fine. We aren’t going to go all that fast.”

  At least she hoped they wouldn’t. It was a long way to the ground.

  Reyhan returned with an even bigger gray stallion and mounted easily.

  “The Jeep takes a longer route using the main road,” he told her. “We’ll cut across the desert and meet your parents at the oasis.”

  “Works for me,” she said, thinking time alone with him might give them a chance to talk.

  He waved off the driver and the Jeep pulled out. Reyhan gave her a few instructions, then watched her ride in slow circles. She found that her lessons from long ago came back to her and she quickly settled into the horse’s rhythmic gate. After a few minutes, Reyhan led the way off the stable grounds and into the wild beauty of the open desert.

  The morning was warm and brilliantly sunny. She was grateful for her hat and the sunscreen she’d slathered on her face. The hard-packed trail was easy to spot. She and Prince walked along behind Reyhan and his mount. When they went faster, Prince also picked up the pace. There were a couple of minutes of bone-jarring trotting before they settled into an easy canter. Reyhan pulled his horse to the side of the trail so they could ride next to each other.

  The wind tugged strands of hair free from her braid. She tossed her head to get them out of her face and nearly slid off her horse. Reyhan shot out a hand and grabbed her arm. She managed to stay in the saddle, but only just. The slick leather seat suddenly felt smaller and more precarious.

  “We will walk the rest of the way,” Reyhan called as he tugged on his reins.

  She slowed Prince, then glanced at the man next to her. “Sorry to be a bother.”

  “The fault is mine. You took to the riding so easily, I thought you were more experienced.”

  They walked side by side. Emma chose, then discarded several possible conversational openings. They all sounded forced and stupid, so she settled on the truth.

  “I know you didn’t want to do this today. Be with me and my parents, I mean. I appreciate you arranging everything and then coming along.”

  “It is important that you all enjoy your time in Bahania.”

  Before they left, she thought glumly.

  �
�Seeing the desert will help you understand our ways,” he said. “The desert is filled with tradition. For centuries nomads have wandered through the vastness of these lands. Thieves preyed on those using the silk road.”

  “Great. My mother was worried about being robbed.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Those times are long past. Today those who live in the desert protect the oil fields to earn their living. A combination of the old ways and the new.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.”

  He shrugged. “There are those who do not wish to work. They want to take—much like the thieves of old.”

  She glanced around at the rolling dunes, the few clusters of scrubby plants. “Take what?”

  “Money. They threaten our oil fields with disaster if we don’t pay them off.”

  She caught her breath. “That’s illegal, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. We know who these boys are. Most are second and third sons of nomadic chiefs. As they will not inherit, they are locked out of the family wealth. Instead of earning a living, they seek something more profitable and to their minds, easier. They play at being men.”

  “Are you going to have them arrested?”

  He shook his head. “I have given my word to their fathers that I won’t lock them up without cause. Mere threats are not considered cause, not out here. So we wait and watch. Sometimes angry young men grow up. Sometimes not.”

  “I don’t understand,” she admitted. “Why wouldn’t their fathers want them to go to prison? What they’re doing is wrong.”

  “To a man of the desert, there is no greater torture than to be locked away from the sun. I won’t arrest anyone until he gives me a reason. This information does not make my head of security very happy.”

  “Hardly a surprise.”

  This was the longest conversation they’d had since they’d spent the night together. Emma wondered if Reyhan was thawing toward her or simply making the best of a bad situation.

  “I’m sorry this is so difficult for you,” she said. “Having me stay. Having my parents here. All of it.”

  “The time will pass.”

  Not exactly words to warm her heart. She wanted to remind him that a few days ago he’d wanted her with a passion that had thrilled them both. That he had kissed her and touched her. Remembering their time together made her stomach clench and her body burn.

  “What if I just left?” she asked.

  He continued to look straight ahead. “Nothing would change. When you returned, the ticking clock would continue. My father can be most stubborn.”

  She thought about how Reyhan avoided her as if she had some disease he didn’t want to catch. How he barely spoke to her and never laughed anymore. The stubbornness seemed to be an inherited trait.

  They arrived at the oasis about an hour later. Emma’s parents were already there and rushed to greet their daughter. Reyhan watched them, wondering at their anxiousness. She had been with him and he would have died to keep her safe. Not that her parents had ever trusted him.

  He dismounted and moved beside Emma’s horse. Her mother glared at him as he helped Emma down. Even with her parents watching and disapproving, he noticed the warmth of her body and the way she leaned against him while she regained her footing.

  “So I have a way to go before I’m an accomplished horsewoman,” she said with a smile. “At least I survived.”

  He wanted to smile back at her and tell her that he would be happy to teach her to ride. He wanted to put his arm around her and draw her closer against him. He wanted to kiss her and touch her and be with her. Instead he stepped back and turned away.

  “This oasis is not considered large. There are others deeper in the desert that cover several acres. But many families travel here because they can be close to the city while maintaining their old ways.”

  “Is it safe for us to wander around?” Emma asked. “Are there any things we shouldn’t do? I don’t want to offend anyone.”

  “You are an honored guest. You will be welcome.” He looked at the small campsite set up around the pond of water. Children played with each other. The women talked together over the open fires, while the men tended the camels. Their arrival had been noticed, but his people would wait for him to make the first move.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” he said.

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded, not surprised by her concern. One of the things he’d liked about her when they’d first met had been her soft heart. She cared about others—an unusual characteristic in the women he generally met.

  Emma linked arms with her parents. “Isn’t this fabulous?” she said happily. “Let’s go introduce ourselves.”

  “They’re strangers,” her mother said. “We don’t know if they speak English.”

  “Most do not,” he confirmed.

  “Then we’ll have to fake it,” Emma said, and pulled her parents toward the women.

  He resisted the need to walk with her and claim her as his own by staying close. His presence was enough protection, he reminded himself. Even though she didn’t need any.

  He looked at the men hovering by the pen of camels. When he nodded, they approached, then bowed and offered greetings of respect. He recognized the oldest man, the chief of the small tribe, as someone who had ridden the desert with his father.

  “Bihjan,” he said, returning the bow. “I bring greetings from my father.”

  “I return those greetings and wish blessings on you and your family.”

  “And to yours.”

  The old man looked at Emma and her parents. “She is as beautiful as the sunrise.”

  Pride filled Reyhan. “My wife.”

  The old chief showed no surprised. “I see your blessings have already begun. You care for her.”

  Reyhan nodded rather than speak the truth—that care didn’t come close. She was his life, his breath, and he wasn’t sure he would survive without her.

  “She will give you fine sons.”

  “If it is to be,” he said simply, ignoring the tightness in his chest when he thought about children. He and Emma had made love without protection. He’d been so caught up in the moment, he’d never thought, never considered the consequences. If she was pregnant…

  He cast the worry away. She couldn’t be. If she were pregnant, she would stay forever, and being with her would destroy him. But to have a child with her…

  He returned his attention to the chief. “You have been blessed with many sons,” he said.

  Bihjan nodded, his eyes dark with worry. “My youngest son, Fadl, leads the renegades,” he said quietly. “I know what they do, what threats they make.”

  “I have given my word,” Reyhan reminded the old man. “If their threats remain empty, then I will do nothing. Perhaps in time, they will grow up enough to rejoin their people and become honorable men.”

  Bihjan sighed with relief. “I had heard it was so, but I wanted to ask for myself. I know these young men try your patience.”

  “My security chief’s, as well. He believes they should be arrested and put in prison. I have explained that to be so confined is a form of death for men of the desert.” He narrowed his gaze. “But be warned. My patience has limits. If any of the renegades acts in the smallest way, if their talk becomes action, my retribution will be swift and severe.”

  The old man nodded. “As it should be, Prince Reyhan. As it should be.”

  Emma loved everything about the oasis. The people were charming and at least two of the women understood a little English—at least enough for them to attempt to communicate. The children were beautiful and friendly and fun. She adored the dogs and the baby camels and the clever way the camp itself came together after being carted across miles of desert. Even her parents seemed to be having a reasonably good time, asking questions more than complaining. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

  “They have invited us to dine with them,” Reyhan said as he came up to stand next to her. “I have accepted.�
�

  Emma instantly glanced at the pen holding the camels and swallowed. “So, uh, what will be on the menu?”

  Reyhan smiled. “Fear not. It’s chicken.”

  “That’s a relief. I don’t think I could chow down on something I’d just petted and cooed over.”

  “I would not expect you to.” He took her arm and pulled her away from everyone. “I told them you were my wife, without mentioning the pending divorce.”

  “Okay. That makes sense. The situation is complicated.” She didn’t know how to tell him she didn’t mind him claiming her as his wife with no “but” tacked on.

  “I wanted you to know,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  They were called to dinner. Everyone sat around in a circle. Dishes were passed from person to person. Emma sampled spicy rice casseroles and tender chicken. There were flat breads and grilled vegetables. Two teenage boys played three-stringed musical instruments and a young girl with bells around her wrists and ankles danced for them.

  “Can they afford to feed us like this?” Emma asked after a tray of honey-coated dates were offered. “I don’t want them to starve or anything because they played generous host with us.”

  His dark gaze lingered on her face. “I appreciate your concern for my people. Do not worry. I have taken care of things.”

  She trusted that he had. Reyhan was a good man, a man she could admire. What would he say if he knew that she wanted these people to be her people, as well? That the more time she spent in Bahania, the more she liked the country and was confident she could have made a home here?

  After the meal, several of the women rose and disappeared into one of the tents. A few of the men wandered off toward the camels. Emma started to rise, but Reyhan put a hand on her arm.

  “There’s more to come,” he said.

  “I’m pretty full.”