Sign, SEAL, Deliver

by Rogenna Brewer

  Suddenly she felt very irritated with them both. Asad had purposely led the man who was supposed to be her fiancé to believe that she and Asad were sharing a tent. Which they were. But not in that way.

  And Zach had walked in here assuming he could call her sweetheart and she’d go with him wherever it was he’d wanted to take her.

  She stormed past them both, her irritation increasing with each step. She told herself it was just the desert heat.

  ZACH WATCHED Michelle stalk away. If Asad was to be believed, she had amnesia. And had only been here a short time. That would explain a few things. Like why she didn’t recognize him at all. But it wouldn’t explain why she’d cozy up to one man while wearing another man’s ring.

  “You cannot force her to go with you. Three days is not so very long,” Asad said.

  “I suppose you’d like her to stay?”

  “Kalilah is good company. But I am a simple man with a simple life. And I would not force a complicated woman from fulfilling her destiny.”

  I’ll just bet. It was on the tip of Zach’s tongue to say it out loud. But it wouldn’t do to insult his host. And then there was McKenna’s theory that she was a pawn. In what game? And who controlled her?

  The leader of the al Ra’id? This man, Khahn Asad al Ra’id.

  “I only want to make Michelle happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  “And if you are not that man? Can you make her fall in love with you a second time?”

  “She’s suffering a little shell shock, that’s all. She’ll come around.”

  “In your shoes I would attempt to gain her trust rather than regain lost memories.”

  “Thanks for the advice.” Judging from the look on the man’s face, Zach’s sarcasm wasn’t wasted on him.

  “Amnesia can result in permanent memory loss. Even a personality change. She may never have a breakthrough. Then again, she may regain her lost memories all of a sudden or over time.”

  “Excuse me, but you said you were no expert.”

  “Internet access. We are not uncivilized.”

  “Speaking of which, I’ll want the things your men took from my plane.”

  “Specifically, your cell phone and laptop computer?”

  “Exactly.”

  Three days later

  CAMEL RACES

  “THE CHILDREN SEEM to like him,” Michelle commented to Raja from where they stood along the sidelines waiting for the camel races to begin. Several tribes in the area had gathered for the all-day event.

  “That’s because he gives them sweets.”

  Both women watched as Zach Prince doled out more bubble gum to eager outstretched hands. The excited chatter and happy laughter had followed him through the camp the entire three days he’d been here.

  “Khanh Asad has given your friend a camel to ride in the races. It is a great honor. Tonight there will be a feast to pay homage to the winners.”

  “That man has about all the attention he needs.” Michelle noted a few of the young women of the camp approaching him now for their taste of something sweet. There was no language barrier when it came to flirting.

  “He is very strong and handsome,” Raja said. “He will produce many fine sons.”

  “That doesn’t mean he has to populate the whole camp.” The subject of their discussion was showing off by blowing bubbles for the entertainment of three young women.

  “I’ve made you angry? Forgive me for speaking of your betrothed in such a manner.”

  “We’re not exactly…” Michelle started, then touched her ring finger with her thumb. She felt the precious metal. Solid and enduring. “I guess we are betrothed.”

  I pledge thee my troth. Faith, loyalty. Truth. Weren’t those wedding vows?

  “But you have feelings for Khanh Asad,” Raja mumbled.

  Michelle looked at the other woman. Head bowed, eyes on Khanh in the distance, where he examined the camels competing in the first heat.

  “My feelings for Asad are simply gratitude, Raja. But I think you have a thing for the sheik.”

  “A thing?”

  “The hots? He turns you on.”

  “Oh, yes. I lust after him.” The young woman blushed. “I am but an orphan with no male relatives to form an alliance with Khanh Asad. My mother died in childbirth and my father and brother were killed in raids by the al Mukhtar. Is your father a great man?”

  Michelle reached for a memory of her father, but there was nothing there to hold on to. Zach would know. She’d have to ask him. He’d said her parents were worried. And several times he’d tried to talk her into leaving sooner. She felt a pang of guilt for not agreeing to do so.

  But because she had no memory of her American home, she had no sense of it as a refuge. So she’d chosen to stay a little while longer. What if nowhere felt as safe as the desert?

  “If your father is a great man,” Raja continued, “you would have much to offer the al Ra’id.”

  “I’m sure my father is a very ordinary man,” Michelle said. “And I’m sure Asad would be very happy to have someone who loves him as much as you obviously do.”

  “Do not forget lust,” Raja teased, then spoiled the cheeky statement by blushing again.

  “I happen to know Asad likes bold women,” Michelle said to encourage the girl.

  “Does your man like bold women?”

  Raja asked the hardest questions. And the answers could all be found in one place. “Excuse me, Raja.”

  Michelle marched over to the bubble-gum bandit. “Can I have a piece?”

  “Of gum?”

  “What else would I be talking about?” She knew flirting when she heard it. But she wasn’t about to let him think she would give in to his charm.

  The smile spread across his face. He dug into his shirt pocket of his BDU. “My last one,” he offered.

  “Thank you.” She unwrapped it. Read the joke. “I don’t get it.”

  “You never do. And since when do you chew gum?”

  “I don’t chew gum?” Popping it into her mouth, she flirted back.

  He searched her face. “You do whatever the heck you please. It’s just so damn good to see you again.”

  He made her uncomfortable when he talked like that. And yet she wished she could say the same thing. Feel the same thing. That it was good to see him, too. “What do you see when you look at me?”

  “What? You mean hair color, eye color?”

  “For that I can look in a mirror. But what do you see?” In his eyes she saw the sea and the sky. And something deeper, bluer. “Do you love me? Lust for me? Why did you ask me to marry you?” Did she sound a little bit desperate for the answer?

  “Are you really ready to hear the truth?”

  Yes. No. “Just because you know and I don’t doesn’t mean you should only dole out information you think I’m ready to hear. How do I know you’re even telling me the truth?”

  The brim of his ball cap shaded his eyes. SEALs—was that supposed to mean something other than a sea mammal?

  “I guess that’s where trust comes into play,” he said. “But if you really trusted me, you’d leave here with me right now.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I know.” He sounded sad. “And that’s why I’m not going to answer your questions.”

  “Now you’re just pissing me off.”

  “That should be familiar territory. We’re leaving here tomorrow. Get used to the idea.” He headed off in the direction of the camel racers.

  A rifle shot rang out. Michelle jumped.

  The first heat was off and running toward the finish line in a cloud of dust. Her heartbeat thundered along with the hoofbeats of the half-dozen or so racers. And she got caught up in the excitement of the moment with the rest of the spectators.

  Even though she didn’t have a favorite, she couldn’t help but scream her encouragement to the underdog when the camel in second place moved up to take the lead. Only then did Raja point out that she was cheering for the
wrong team.

  Michelle paid closer attention to the tribal colors after that.

  Several heats later, Zach and Asad lined up at the starting line. Michelle felt her own competitive spirit kick in. She didn’t want to watch. She wanted to ride like the wind. Maybe she’d never known anything about being a camel jockey, but it was clear that Zach didn’t, either. And that wasn’t stopping him.

  The men of the tribe were giving him a quick lesson on the ins and outs of camel racing. The shot sounded. He kicked his beast into high gear. Quick learner or fierce competitor, he managed to stay with the pack. As they thundered up the makeshift track, he ran neck and neck with Asad in third place.

  The fact there were two riders ahead of them didn’t seem to matter. They battled out third place. Each vying to take the lead from the other.

  Dust kicked up all around them.

  “Come on! Come on!” she shouted, not even sure who she was rooting for, Asad or Zach.

  The camel in second place stumbled. The jockey fell. Zach veered around the fallen rider, but tangled with the riderless animal. Michelle held her breath for what seemed like ages. He fell hard. Ate sand. But somehow managed to roll out of the way of the lag riders.

  She missed the photo-finish ending—minus the photo. Several spectators gathered to congratulate the winners, but she ran toward the fallen man to see for herself that he was really all right.

  Zach sat in the sand, arms draped over his knees. “I’m okay,” he snapped before she could ask. “Nothing’s hurt but my pride.”

  “And you’re sitting on that.” She smiled down at him.

  She could tell he was trying not to smile. “Remind me not to get on one of those smelly beasts again.”

  “I’m sure I’ll forget. I’m the one without the memory, remember?”

  “I had him,” he grumbled, ignoring her attempt at levity. “Any fool could see that.”

  “What was the side bet? Or were you two just trying to impress the girls?”

  He looked up at her with that hurt-little-boy look. Her heart skipped a beat. “Oh, I see.”

  She tried not to laugh. But he took the loss way too seriously. “In case you didn’t notice, the girl came running in your direction.”

  Zach reached out his hand to Michelle. She was right. Asad had won the race. But he was sitting here looking up at the girl. He’d never tried winning by losing before.

  “Your sleeve’s torn.” She took his hand. “Oh, Zach,” she scolded, getting her first look at the skin that felt like it had been sandblasted off the back of his forearm. “We’re going to need to get you cleaned up.”

  “Nothing but a scrape,” he said, hoisting himself to his feet, not an easy thing to do, since he felt as if he’d been run over by a truck. He didn’t let go of her hand, though. And he didn’t exactly mind her fussing over him. He only wished she’d let him fuss over her the same way.

  She let go of his hand and led the way back to the encampment in the distance. The gathering crowd had started to drift back that way, also.

  A group of older women were cooking over an open fire, preparing for the feast. A group of younger women were gathering around a small cottage built on a camel’s back and chatting excitedly with the young woman inside.

  “Oh, they’re getting the bride ready to meet her groom,” Michelle said in passing.

  “They’ve never met?” Zach asked. “Does he know what he’s getting himself into?”

  “They’ve met. Fallen in love. And he’s asked for her hand. Now her family is going to deliver her on the back of the camel.”

  “I guess the poor sucker knocked her up. And her family is dumping her off with the dowry. A simple enough ceremony.”

  “If you’re such a cynic when it comes to marriage, how did you ever manage to propose? Wait here. Asad keeps a first-aid kit in his tent. I won’t be a minute.”

  “I have one, too.”

  She disappeared into the tent, then poked her head out moments later with a blue canvas tote. “This it?” she asked.

  “That’s it.”

  “You never answered my question. Or is that one of those questions you’re not going to answer until I’m ready to hear the answer?”

  “How come you don’t ask me questions about your life? Where you grew up. Your home. Your parents.”

  She poured water over his arm and he hissed in a sharp breath.

  “I thought I was asking questions about my life.” She dabbed his arm gently with swabbing. “Okay, I’ll bite. When did we first meet?”

  “Technically that’s a we question. Not a you question. But I can answer that one. We first met in the nursery of the naval hospital in Pensacola, Florida. Your mother delivered by C-section and six days later they were wheeling you out the door just as they were wheeling me in.”

  “You don’t remember back that far.”

  “That’s the way my mother tells it. My first memory of you, I was five. My dad was the CO of SEAL training. That’s in Coronado, California. And your dad was coming on board as the executive officer. There’s this big bell near the flagpole, next to the headquarters building. Your dad walked across the grinder with you in tow. He let go of your hand to shake hands with my dad. And you stuck your thumb in your mouth and hid behind his leg.”

  Of course, while their dads were busy catching up, he’d talked her into ringing the bell and got them both in trouble. And he’d done all the talking. She hadn’t said a word until they were leaving. Then she pulled out her thumb and said, “Bye, Zach, nice to meet you.”

  “We’ve really known each other that long? And our dads were in the Navy?”

  “Best friends. Since before we were born. My dad retired when I was about nine. Your dad is still in the Navy. He’s an admiral. The chief of SEALs.”

  “A pretty important man,” she mumbled. “And we’re in the Navy?”

  “Yeah, still are.”

  “A family tradition?”

  “I guess. You wanted to fly jets.”

  “And what did you want to do?”

  “Fly jets.”

  “We get along pretty good, then, huh?”

  “Match made in heaven.” When she wasn’t pissed off at him.

  “And I was shot down…”

  “A little over a month ago.”

  “And I can’t remember anything before three days ago.” She wrapped the bandage around his arm. “Do you know where I’ve been?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not before you came here.”

  She seemed to lose herself in thought then.

  “Michelle.” He lifted her chin and made her look into his eyes. “It doesn’t matter to me where you’ve been. I just want you home.”

  She gently removed his hand. “It matters to me. And maybe it will matter to you. It must be something really horrible if I’m trying this hard to forget.”

  She left him, taking his first-aid kit with her, and headed off in the direction of the tent she shared with Raja.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Later that evening

  THE WEDDING

  “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” Raja chided. “The wedding processional is about to begin.”

  It was on the tip of Michelle’s tongue to tell the other woman she didn’t want to go. But that would be impolite. “What are we waiting for?”

  “Would you like to borrow some clothes to change into?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Raja sighed, telling her she didn’t look fine in her opinion.

  “I’m comfortable,” she amended. Too comfortable to want to leave. Too miserable to stay.

  Ever since Zach had shown up, her cocoon was no longer that satisfying.

  Heading for the crowd gathering in the distance, they joined the slow-moving processional. The bright orange ball dipped low in the west. The dividing line between night and day melded in hues of orange and blue. It would be dark soon. The soft baying of the camels mixed with song.

  Time for the wedding feast.


  Time for the honeymoon.

  Zach had avoided answering her question about why he’d proposed. What was he keeping from her? Or rather, what hadn’t she asked that needed asking?

  Despite his claims that her missing past didn’t matter, how would it really affect their future?

  Michelle moved along with the rest of the young women in the tribe, well behind the bride’s family and apart from the gaiety all around her. The joining of the bride and groom passed by in a blur, as did most of the wedding feast of mensaf, a traditional rice dish made with yogurt and served with lamb or beef.

  She wasn’t very hungry. And it was okay to cry at weddings. Even Bedouin weddings. Because no one seemed to notice her misery. Not even Asad.

  And especially not Zach.

  He’d disappeared from the spot where she’d left him. Asad sat in judgment inside his tent, settling disputes among fellow tribesmen or in some cases between al Ra’id tribesmen and visiting clan.

  Gathered around the fires outside, his men were in conversation, sometimes heated debate. And the name that came up most often was the al Mukhtar.

  A shiver raced up her spine.

  She gathered the bourque around her shoulders and went in search of something warmer to take the chill off the night.

  Commander’s Moon

  ZACH STEERED CLEAR of the festivities. The guards passed a time or two, but left him alone unchallenged. He leaned against the hood of the Hummer, listening to the bay of a camel, feeling the bone-cold chill of the desert at night.

  Pilots knew meteorology.

  Zach had come prepared for the hundred-and-twenty-five degree heat of day to give way to the forty-degree cold at night.

  In the desert, rainfall amounted to less than ten inches a year. Without moisture there were no clouds. Heat escaped at night. And beat down during the day.

  His bomber jacket, along with the rest of his belongings, was in Asad’s tent, and Zach didn’t feel like breaking the peace and quiet of his own thoughts to go get it just yet. Of course, his thoughts weren’t exactly peaceful or quiet. More like a riot of turmoil.

  He was back to wondering just how much Michelle remembered. She’d as much as admitted that the memory of her captivity was so horrible she’d rather forget. So was it really forgotten? Or just pushed aside where she wouldn’t have to deal with it. Was he being truthful with her, with himself, when he said the past didn’t matter?