At midday they stopped in a meadow by a stream. Tahj chewed on some of the leather-like meat, which had been stored in salt in a pouch inside their packs. He lifted his eyes and saw Bashea. He froze, and his lips whispered her name involuntarily as he watched her dip to get water out of the stream. She brought it to her mouth and drank long, and then splashed some on her neck, stretching and closing her eyes. She was hot and weary, he knew, as he felt the same. A light breeze blew the hair back from her face, and he dropped his eyes, afraid she would see him watching her again, and, no doubt, think he was having perverse thoughts about her, which, he had to admit, he wasn’t far from.
When Tahj glanced up again, Radeem had stepped up under the branches of the trees near the water, resting a hand against a limb as he talked to Bashea. She looked up at him and responded with something Tahj could not hear, but his stomach churned.
“Let’s get moving,” Tahj called out, packing things up again.
“What’s your hurry, Tahj?” Radeem queried, returning from across the meadow.
“Nothing. No hurry. I just want to be done with it.”
“Done with it?”
He shrugged. “Take the girl to her home. Done with it. Done with her.” Tahj said it casually, but it was far from the truth. The last thing Tahj wanted was to be done with the girl.
“It is going to be an interesting trip from here on out,” Radeem speculated. “The journey to the girl’s home is only a day long, had we crossed the desert. But skirting it as we did, in the shadow of the trees, it will take a bit longer. I know this part of the kingdom, and we are going to run out of trees soon. We will need to cross out in the open eventually.”
It was just this the two men were discussing when Bashea returned. “We’ll need to get a hold of some tents,” Radeem was saying. “We won’t last a day without them in the desert.” He looked up when she entered the shade where they reclined. “Our tree cover will be running out in a few hours. We are nearing the city of Shiraz.” He turned back to Tahj. “We cannot enter as we are, dirty and bloodstained. It will arouse suspicion, and Boltar may already have sent some of his men there. They would have made it easily before us, crossing the desert.”
“What are your suggestions?” Tahj listened to Radeem attentively. At least him could trust Radeem in this.
Radeem chewed on their dilemma for a minute before coming up with a solution. “I know. I know just what to do. I have a friend. He won’t ask any questions, and he lives just outside the boundaries of the city. It’s on the far side of Shiraz, so we will have to travel around it to get there, but we will go there, with your permission.”
Tahj peered up at Bashea. He felt responsible for her safety, and exposing her to strangers, even if Radeem knew them, made him nervous.
She nodded her head. “If that is what we must do…”
Tahj stood. “Take us there.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bashea sat uncomfortably behind Radeem. Not because of his earlier flirtation—she had put an end to that. It was simply because he was a large man, which left little room for her on the horse. No, Bashea could read Radeem easily. Probably married, with a couple of children, a flirt, but harmless. Though she had cringed earlier when Radeem called her ziba, “beautiful,” she knew he had no idea those other men had used the same word, or that the sound of it now made her skin crawl. Radeem may be a letch, but he wasn’t a threat; she was certain of that.
It was Tahj she couldn’t figure out. Cool one minute, warm the next, like a desert gecko moving from sun to shade. He had barely spoken to her all morning, or Radeem, for that matter, yet he seemed so pleasant the night before. She mused over his covering her with the only remaining blanket and sleeping in the cold without one. She rubbed her hand down her cheek, remembering the way he touched her when he thought she was sleeping. She had been frightened it was just a precursor to more. That if she did not give him what he wanted, he would just take it, as the others had. But when she woke and saw him sleeping on his side in the cold without a blanket, he looked like a little boy. A cold, lonely little boy. She figured then that she had been wrong about him. Now, she was totally confused.
As she wondered about her traveling companions, the trees on her right began to thin out. Between the branches she caught sight of a solitary house ahead. Radeem led them until they were behind the small home, a hovel, really, with a thatch roof and a dirty wooden portico, though living this close to the desert, it was probably impossible to keep it clean. They broke from the trees for the first time to approach the house. The owner heard their horses and came out into the shade of an overhang that ran the length of the house, peering through the swirling dust quizzically. When he recognized Radeem, he bent and called joyfully into the house.
“Ah, Radeem, my friend,” the old man said as the captain dismounted. He took Radeem by the shoulders and kissed him vigorously on both cheeks. “It has been too long. Welcome. Welcome.” With the last he turned to Tahj and Bashea, who bowed slightly. “Friends of Radeem, you are welcome in my house.”
Before the words were even out of his mouth, three girls swarmed out of the house squealing Radeem’s name and gathering around to kiss him. Radeem blushed. “Girls! Girls! You must be calm. There’s plenty of me for all of you.” The trio’s bright clothing stood out against the bland background of the desert like cactus flowers. Two of the girls took Radeem’s elbows to lead him inside and the third followed behind, obviously fuming because she had been left out.
Tahj and Bashea looked at each other and smiled. One couldn’t help being amused, it seemed. Appearing a little embarrassed by his girls’ behavior, but equally proud of them, the father ushered his other two guests into the house behind them, their twittering almost making speech impossible.
Once inside the house’s walls, however, the older man addressed them sternly, “Girls!” But then he chuckled. “I cannot even hear what my guests are saying.”
He turned to Tahj and Bashea now. He was short and round, with a snowy-white beard and white clothing with a wide, gold sash, his eyes quick and merry. “I am Faraz, and these are my daughters. Etti—” One of the girls, dressed in the same sort of flowing jumpsuit Bashea wore, stepped forward and curtsied. She had on one of the traditional veils and shiny, metal medallions glinted from all over her vibrant orange clothing; her bright eyes swept over Tahj appraisingly before she stepped back. “This is my next eldest, Dariya.” A second girl stepped forward wearing the same outfit in a pastel green, and the third, and youngest, daughter was introduced as Jessmyn. She was dressed in pink, and white sequins sparkled on her dress like grains of sand caught in the midday sun.
Each of the girls dropped their eyes when curtsying, as was respectful, but as they rose they held Tahj’s gaze boldly. Bashea looked from them to the prince to gauge his reaction, but his face was unreadable. She felt the hair on the back of her neck begin to bristle and in turn became aggravated she was even aggravated at all. It was foolish. Of course the girls would admire Tahj, a young, handsome, eligible man. But did they have to be so obvious about it? They were practically throwing themselves at his feet.
“And you are…?” their host asked.
Tahj stepped forward. “I am Pr—”
“Pravin,” Radeem corrected. “Pravin is my old friend.” Radeem clapped Tahj on the back heartily, making him stumble forward.
Faraz’s shrewd eyes seemed to catch the lie, but he graciously accepted it as the truth. “Welcome, Pravin.”
“And this,” Radeem added with a flourish, “is Bashea, Pravin’s espoused.” Both Bashea and Tahj cast him a look of surprise, but Radeem ignored them.
The older gentleman took Bashea’s hand and kissed it while never taking his eyes from hers. “Bashea,” he said with an odd tenderness, “welcome to our home.” She curtsied.
From the moment they entered the house, the fabulous smell of some kind of savory repast had tempted them. Radeem, who seemed to almost drool as he spoke, addressed their
host. “But it seems we have interrupted a meal. We should go and perhaps come back another time.”
“Nonsense. Nonsense,” Faraz answered. “There is plenty to share, isn’t there, girls?” The three bubbled in response. “You must stay and eat with us. We insist.”
Radeem bowed with his palms pressed together in front of his chest. “We would be forever grateful, my friend.”
“Perhaps you would care to wash up after your travels,” Faraz said tactfully, eying their soiled and bloodied clothing. “Pravin and your lovely Bashea, you shall have my room for the night.”
“The night…?” Tahj began.
“And you, my dear friend, will have the girls’ room.”
There immediately seemed to be some infighting among the female trio, and from the snatches of whispers caught here and there, it was clearly evident they were fighting over who would share Radeem’s bed for the evening. After a few seconds, the father made a sharp sound and the squabbling stopped, the middle girl smiling victoriously while the other two looked, at first disappointed, and then hopefully, in Tahj’s direction. “Jessmyn, show Pravin and Bashea to their room.”
“Our room?” Bashea questioned in a panic. Then, remembering they were supposed to be a couple, she added, “B-but we aren’t yet married—”
Faraz winked. “We will keep your secret.”
Bashea glanced at Tahj, who just shrugged, and she was forced to follow him across the room. As they walked past Radeem, the captain, seeming quite pleased with himself, slung his arms loosely around the pair’s shoulders, leaning in to talk to them privately. “Since I went to the trouble of creating a lie to keep your identities a secret, the least you could do is act the part. Take your betrothed’s arm, you idiot.” Unseen by their host, he thwacked Tahj on the head. Tahj stuck his arm out begrudgingly and Bashea put her arm through it, equally unhappy. Radeem, for his part, seemed to be enjoying the fact that he was making them both uncomfortable.
Jessmyn sauntered in front of Tahj and Bashea, swishing her hips temptingly and glancing over her shoulder with a giggle now and then. Bashea looked at Tahj, but he wasn’t watching the girl; he seemed to be stewing over something. “Here’s your room.” The obviously infatuated girl gave a wink, which was lost on Tahj.
When the door closed behind her, Tahj gave Bashea’s arm an absentminded pat and withdrew his hand. It was suddenly very quiet. The room was tiny, with a double bed that took up most of one side, a small window at the head of the bed, and a fireplace on the adjacent wall. Tahj stepped up to put his hand on the mantle, staring into the barren depths of the fireplace beneath without speaking.
After standing just inside the doorway for several minutes feeling awkward, Bashea crossed to the window. Forgetting about her shoulder, she reached to move aside the curtain, sucking in her breath in pain. Tahj looked up, seeming immediately concerned.
“Let me look at that.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Don’t be foolish. I should check it. Come here.” He sat on the bed and gestured for her to sit down next to him. When she hesitated he snapped at her, “Come here. I’m not going to do anything to you, for Arishtat’s sake.”
Bashea marched over, giving Tahj a cool stare, and sat down with her back to him. Slowly she moved her hair out of the way, looping it over her other shoulder.
The movement struck Tahj as very sensual, and the smell of her hair about drove him over the edge. Unsteadily he reached out and untucked the edge of the bandage and began to pull it off little by little. When it fell away, Tahj saw the blood had only gone through two layers, and he took that as a good sign. He pressed around the area gently.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
“I need to pull the fabric away to get a good look at it and make sure the edges are clean and sealed.”
She nodded, but said nothing. Tahj put a hand on her shoulder, and his heart started to beat quicker. Chastising himself for being foolish, he carefully slid the fabric down off her shoulder, but the move was incredibly erotic, and when he saw the smooth skin of her neck and the top of her shoulder he fought an urge to sink his teeth into it, or, at the very least, brush his lips across the creamy expanse. He closed his eyes.
“So, how is it?”
“Oh!” he said, surprised by the sound of her voice. “Fine, fine. It looks fine.”
His answer must not have been too convincing, as she jumped up to check herself in a large, rectangular mirror which had once been in a frame but now stood leaning against the wall. There was a long crack in it, and the glass was murky with age, but Bashea turned to look at her bare shoulder in its reflection speculatively. Since the wound was indeed clean, and looked like it was beginning to heal, she looked at Tahj quizzically.
The door opened a crack. “I’ve got…oh!” Seeing Bashea’s top halfway off her shoulder and Tahj sitting on the bed behind her, Radeem commented suggestively, “Am I interrupting something?”
“No.” Bashea bit off the word angrily, moving to the window and pulling her sleeve up.
Radeem winked at Tahj with a sly look, but, getting no smile in response, he continued. “I got you guys some clothes, if you want them,” he added with a cheesy grin. He handed Tahj a stack of clothes, and Bashea turned and then rushed over to pull hers off the top. It was a beautiful piece, and she ran her hand over the fabric, her eyes wide.
Radeem turned to Tahj. “Uhh…I need forty Abbas to pay for them.”
Tahj’s head spun. “Forty Abbas!”
“I had to give my friend some compensation.”
“But forty Abbas? That would pay for a whole new wardrobe and food and board for a week.”
Radeem shrugged, still holding his hand out.
“Some friend,” Tahj grumbled, pulling out a drawstring pouch and handing him the silver coins. “I’ve been gone a little over twenty-four hours, and I’m almost out of money.”
Radeem accepted the money with a smile and turned to leave, counting the coins again into his palm, seeming unduly satisfied with their tinkling.
“Forty Abbas,” Tahj muttered when the door closed. He laid the new clothes out on the bed and started to remove his shirt.
“You’re not getting changed in here!” Bashea squeaked.
Startled, he asked, “I’m not?”
“Not in front of me.”
“Oh, come on, my sweet.” Tahj smirked. “We’re engaged, remember?”
Seeming flustered, Bashea turned away when he proceeded to pull his shirt off. Tahj just laughed and shifted to dip his hands into a basin on a stand by the fireplace. He splashed the water on his face and chest, glancing over to where Bashea still stood by the window, her back turned, though peeking from time to time.
Bashea shut her eyes, trying not to think about the raw twist of muscle she had glimpsed as he had removed his shirt. “W-what about me?”
“You can get changed. I won’t look.”
“What?” She spun around, but finding his chest was still bare, dropped her eyes, nervously stammering, “I-I’m n-not g-going to change with you in here.”
“Fine. Then you can change after I leave.”
Despite his undressed state, Bashea looked up at him desperately. “But they believe we are to get married. If you go out there, and I stay in here to change, they’ll suspect something.”
“No, they won’t. Women always take forever getting ready,” he rejoined, slipping the fresh shirt over his head.
“Not me,” she responded indignantly.
“Well, what’s it going to be, Bashea?” he asked, sounding exasperated. “Do you want me to stay, or do you want me to go?”
“Ugh!” she cried in frustration, her face hot with suppressed rage. She took one of her shoes off jerkily, nearly falling off balance. “Get...out of here!” She winged one of her shoes at him, and Tahj dodged it. He just had time to duck out the door before the other shoe hit it.
* * *
Everyone at the small kitchen
table looked up at the loud bang of the door, followed by the sound of the second shoe battering it. Tahj lifted his shoulders apologetically. “Lovers’ spat.”
Faraz came over to put his arm around Tahj and usher him in. “My Talia and I had plenty of those. That’s good,” he whispered confidentially. “The feistier they are out of bed, the more fun they are in bed.” He jabbed an elbow in Tahj’s ribs.
Then she ought to be incredible, Tahj thought wryly. He grunted and then chuckled along with his host, feeling uncomfortable. His eyes searched the room for Radeem, but Jessmyn stepped forward, taking his hand and leading him to the table seductively. “You know, there are many men who choose to have a multitude of wives,” she offered.
“Uhh…” Tahj didn’t quite know what to say to that one. He had always thought it was strange when men took a number of wives. He hoped to find one very special woman to spend his life with, as his father had. Tahj sat down, and Faraz’s two other daughters came to sit next to him, too, rubbing their hands over his arms.
“You’re strong,” Dariya said, and the others giggled. Tahj felt Etti’s hand slipping lower on his thigh and shifted nervously. By the time Radeem came out, he felt like he had been fighting back three panthers. To his relief, Dariya and Etti rose to fawn over his captain, leaving him with only the one pair of wandering hands to deal with.
Tahj glanced up when he heard the bedroom door open and involuntarily rose out of his chair as Bashea entered. She was stunning in the white garb she wore, gold medallions hanging from the headpiece and the belt at her waist. The ties of the Choli top skimmed over her bare midriff, and she wore a traditional face veil, which only served to accent her mesmerizing eyes all the more, as they were the only part of her face which wasn’t hidden. A triple strand of pearls hung below her chin, swaying as she walked forward, and Tahj felt as if the earth were swaying in time.
Taken by Storm (ROMANTIC REALMS COLLECTION) Page 6