by Bonnie Vanak
The guard frowned. "Who would want an ugly sow like you?"
"She’s mine. I brought her as a servant for my concubine," Kenneth said quickly.
The guard gave Rashid a rough push. "Get out of my sight."
Rashid meekly bowed his head and shuffled along. Kenneth held his breath, praying the weapons Rashid hid would not clank together.
When they reached Badra’s apartments, he slipped money to the eunuch on guard to run an errand. When they went inside, Badra rushed over. Her eyes widened as Rashid tore off his veil.
Delight and surprise shone in her eyes. "Rashid, are you here with Kenneth to help me escape?"
Grinning, he shed the veil, then wiped off the makeup with a damp cloth Kenneth provided. He removed the weapons carefully from the Khamsin clothing. Ten daggers, four scimitars and six pistols. Rashid sat on the bed, tugging free the flat-soled boots, tossing them to Badra. Then he took a pair of scissors from his pocket and handed them to Kenneth.
"Here. Cut my hair. If I am to look the part of an Englishman, my hair must be shorter."
Kenneth fought back his astonishment. He rapidly trimmed Rashid’s hair to just below the jawline. Rashid then donned a pair of Kenneth’s polished shoes and stood, the transformation complete.
With the short hair and English clothing, Rashid looked startlingly familiar. Kenneth could not remember who he resembled. His attention swung to Badra, who emerged from behind a silk dressing screen. They stuffed paper into her boots. She slipped them on. Kenneth wound a turban around her head and veiled her lower face with its trailing end. Even guised as a Khamsin warrior, she could not be more beautiful. Worry sluiced through him. This would never work.
It would have to.
"I will alert the others." Rashid vanished into the hallway. A minute later, a sharp whistle sounded.
Kenneth went into the hall, Badra behind him. The other Khamsin warriors emerged and came toward them and he passed out the weapons, which the warriors hid beneath their robes. Only the one named Musaf was missing. A door opened and Musaf emerged. His robes were in disarray and his face flushed. He hastily arranged his clothing.
Kenneth grinned and wagged a finger as he passed him a dagger. "You’re not here for sex," he whispered.
"The girl attacked me," Musaf protested. "I was helpless."
With the warriors leading the way, Kenneth and Rashid followed, forming a protective enclosure around Badra. Kenneth clutched a dagger, hoping they could avoid bloodshed.
Masud emerged from a room with Jabari and Ramses and saw them. Ramses’s powerful punch cut off his shout of alarm, but not before eunuchs came running, scimitars flashing. Two Khamsin warriors passed scimitars to Jabari and Ramses; then armed only with daggers, they charged the attacking eunuchs to protect their sheikh. Kenneth silently saluted their bravery.
The men threw their jambiyas with practiced ease, downing their screaming opponents and taking their scimitars. Jabari and Ramses joined the other warriors, wielding their scimitars, and took on the largest of the next guards who appeared. Screams erupted as concubines peeped outside.
Using their bodies as shields—Rashid on Badra’s left flank, Kenneth on her right—they fled down the hallway toward the escape route. The Khamsin warriors fought ahead, clearing a path for them through the corridor.
They were nearly at the passageway leading to the outside door when yells sounded from behind Kenneth. He whirled to find two eunuchs rushing from the opposite end of the corridor, scimitars aloft. He shoved Badra at Rashid.
He held out his jambiya in a practiced stance. "Get her out of here! I’ll handle them!" he called.
A steel object sailed through the air. Kenneth caught Rashid’s scimitar one-handed and faced his attackers, sword in right hand, dagger in the left. Steel clanked with steel as he fought.
Suddenly the eunuchs battling the Khamsin warriors in the front fell back, allowing the group to rush down the corridor to the outside. "Forget the others! Get the duke!" they screamed.
They converged on Kenneth like a pack of wolves. Kenneth fought in a berserk rage. His gaze swung over to see Rashid, who was pushing Badra to safety.
Had she been the bait, he the fly in this spider’s web? All the recent attempts on his life flashed before him. The aphrodisiac. The attack in London. His illness, blamed on that insufferable French cook. The cobra. He would not leave here alive.
Cursing, he swung mightily, but there were too many foes. Six against one. He smiled grimly. He was going down, but damn, he’d die as a warrior. A nearby door opened a crack and a pair of dark eyes peered out. But unlike the frightened eyes of the concubines, these eyes seemed gleeful. Wicked. Satisfied.
His killer?
"Khepri!"
His name was roared like a lion, and Jabari suddenly flew to his side, accompanied by Rashid. The two joined the fracas, their swords glinting as they effortlessly engaged his attackers.
"Why are you back here, Jabari? Go, save yourself," he yelled.
"Abandon my brother who needs me? Never," Jabari shouted back.
And, together, they succeeded. They beat back the last guard and rushed for the exit, scurrying down the outside stairs as planned. In the courtyard, all hell had broken loose. More guards had emerged like a swarm of angry bees. They battled the Khamsin who tried to herd Badra toward the thick outside wooden door and freedom. Kenneth rushed to Badra’s side. Habit born from years of protecting her surfaced as he leapt to her side, fighting off one foe who’d nearly reached her. He saw Jabari and Ramses surprise several eunuchs by charging their backs. The move threw the odds in his party’s favor, and they gained ground toward the door.
The Turk who Rashid had punched wandered out into the courtyard from the ka’ah. He took one look at the melee, did an about-face and rushed back inside.
Almost there. Kenneth turned, clutching his scimitar to fend off one eunuch when another charged him with a dagger. It connected. A wild shriek filled the air as Badra flung herself at his attacker, deflecting the man’s aim, throwing him to the ground. Fire burned in Kenneth’s chest as he staggered back, grimacing at his slight wound. Wheezing, he went to Badra, who was ready to kick the downed eunuch between the legs.
"That’s not very effective on these guys," he told her sheepishly, and flung his dagger as the man tried to lunge for him. The eunuch slumped to the ground, Kenneth’s jambiya in his stomach.
He retrieved the dagger as Rashid and the Khamsin armed with pistols began firing. The eunuchs quickly vanished and emerged on the upstairs terrace, rifles in hand. Screams sounded from inside. The women were cloistered in rooms directly behind. One stray bullet could hit them!
Kenneth cursed. "Careful where you shoot! The women are in the rooms behind them!" he yelled.
Another sudden shout froze his blood.
"Kill the Khamsin sheikh! The master wills it. The tall one in the blue robes with the black beard!"
Ramses flung himself in front of Jabari as bullets showered dirt around their feet. They sought shelter behind an ornate fountain of a naked woman pouring water from ajar. A bullet sang through the air, shattering her breast, spraying limestone chips. Kenneth winced and moved closer to Badra.
"Give me your loaded pistols and go! I will hold them!" Rashid shouted.
They handed over their guns and raced for the courtyard door. Ramses grimaced as a bullet grazed his arm, but he herded Jabari toward the exit. Kenneth did likewise with Badra.
When they reached the door, Ramses shoved Jabari through and raced after him, true to his role as Jabari’s guardian. The others followed. Kenneth started to push Badra out but she shrieked. Rashid had turned, a desperate look on his face.
He was running out of ammunition. Trapped.
"Rashid!" she cried, and twisted as if to go back.
‘Take her," Kenneth yelled to Musaf, who grabbed Badra and carted her to safety. Pausing in the doorway, Kenneth thought hard. He needed a distraction. The Khamsin were gathered in a group outsi
de, mounted on horses and ready to depart.
"Where’s Rashid?" Jabari demanded.
"Leave! I’ll get him out," Kenneth yelled in reply.
He patted his pockets and withdrew their contents: a thick wad of pound notes secured with a silver money clip. He cursed. No weapon. Money couldn’t buy Rashid time to escape. Then again ... He recalled the eunuch’s wide eyes when he’d doled out money in payment for errands.
Braving the bullets, Kenneth ran back. He held up the currency. "Hold your fire! Look! Money!"
Obviously startled by the crazy Englishman, the men ceased firing. Kenneth seized the advantage, running into the courtyard, tossing the pound notes skyward toward the balcony. They fluttered in the air like doves struggling to take flight.
As anticipated, the eunuchs abandoned their rifles, reaching out to grab for the currency. Kenneth dashed for the fountain and yanked on Rashid’s arm.
"Let’s go," he ordered hoarsely.
They ran for the door, slammed the heavy oak portal shut behind them, then mounted their horses and rode toward the hotel.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Badra had the heart of a she-lion, Kenneth thought proudly. He clutched her close as they entered the Shepherd’s Hotel. Grimly he wondered what the wide-eyed guests thought about the English duke with his blood-stained jacket gripped to his chest; the diminutive woman dressed as a warrior clutching him; and the injured Ramses clutching his wounded arm, blood streaking down it, supported by the somber sheikh.
He led Badra to his hotel suite, collapsed onto a chair and dropped his jacket. She tore off her turban, then opened his shirt and gasped. Scurrying to fetch a towel, she returned, pressing it against his chest wound.
"Hold it in place while I get water and bandages," she said. She vanished behind the screen and he heard the sounds of china clinking and water being poured.
"It’s just a scratch. It stopped bleeding," he protested.
The door opened and the tall, dignified frame of the Khamsin sheikh filled its frame. Even clad in grubby, bloodstained robes, his turban askew, a small bruise marring his face, he radiated a regal air. Worry shadowed his expression.
"How is Ramses?" Kenneth asked.
Jabari grimaced. "He will live. The bullet nicked his arm and he’s lost some blood, but he is well. Resting now." The sheikh rubbed his chin. "Khepri, what exactly happened back there? Why did they want me dead?"
His gut tightened. Because you’re my brother and whoever wants me dead wants to hurt the person closest to me, he guessed. "You lead the greatest tribe in Egypt. Of course you have enemies."
Suspicion shone in the sheikh’s dark eyes. "In a brothel?"
"Men die in brothels all the time," he replied lamely.
"From pleasure. Not from bullets."
Badra appeared from behind the screen. She bore a pitcher and a basin. "Give me your dagger," she told the sheikh.
Jabari arched a brow. "Why? Do you plan to finish what the eunuchs started?" At her stern look, he sheepishly handed over the dagger hidden in the folds of his robe.
Badra vanished back into the bedchamber. Sounds of ripping fabric floated out. Kenneth and Jabari exchanged looks.
"Ah, I think your hotel bill just increased, for I am certain they will want you to replace those fine sheets she is destroying."
Kenneth gave Jabari an arch look. "Maybe she can sew them back together when I’m healed."
Badra emerged with an armful of torn cotton strips and handed Jabari back his dagger. She dumped the strips on the table and began to wash Kenneth’s chest. Her touch felt gentle as a cloud. She bound his chest with cotton strips.
Kenneth frowned. "Must I wear the entire bed?"
She began winding more strips about his body. "I’m turning you into a mummy," she explained.
"I’d rather be a daddy," Kenneth replied softly.
A becoming rose tinted her cheeks. Kenneth tried to crack a smile, but he felt it crumble. It was no joke. He truly did want a child. He wanted to see Badra glowing, her belly softly rounding with his child inside her. A horrid feeling overcame him. He’d nearly lost her when she’d deflected the eunuch’s blow. He could not endanger her. Or Jabari. A tightness entered his chest that had nothing to do with his stab wound.
"I must check on Ramses," Jabari said, straightening. "Badra, I trust your ministrations are sufficient for Khepri?"
"He’ll be fine ... under my care." Her eyes grew soft as she looked at Kenneth.
Twin emotions of joy and grief dueled inside Kenneth like the clash of Khamsin steel. His blood cried out for her. When Jabari left, Kenneth could barely look at her, such was his need. He stood, shrugging on his bloodstained, tattered shirt.
"I’ll leave you to rest, Badra."
"Please, Khepri. I bandaged your wound in the open for a reason. So Jabari would think you incapacitated and not suspect ..."
Taking his hand, Badra steered him into the bedroom. She took his palm and placed it on her breast. "Make love to me. Here, in this place where I am free. I want to love you as a woman loves a man, not as a concubine with her master."
"Badra," he said thickly as she rotated his hand slowly over her breast.
He groaned in agony. He crushed her to him, his lips moving ruthlessly over hers. In their eagerness, they both tore off clothing and tumbled to the soft bed, entwined like snakes, kissing frantically.
Badra sensed Kenneth’s burning urgency and it shocked her. A horrific thought invaded her bliss. He kissed her as if this was their last time together, as if they would be forever parted.
She shoved the thought aside and eagerly opened her mouth for him, pressing closer as he cupped her nape in one strong palm and caressed her unbound hair.
His kisses burned like the hot sands of the Sahara as Kenneth covered her naked body with his. Pressing her deep into the cotton softness of the mattress, he drove ruthlessly into her. She did not shrink back, but arched to meet each demanding thrust, each furious slap of his flesh against hers. This was the joining of equals, violent as it might be, and it was good. Badra cradled Kenneth’s head, lifting her hips, covering his neck and shoulders with urgent kisses. He growled as her teeth nipped him, and cupping her bottom, Kenneth lifted her legs and draped them around his pumping hips.
Tension mounted in Badra’s loins. She writhed against his sweat-slicked skin, grinding her hips into his. Gripping him to her, she screamed out his name, and he joined her as the pleasure shattered them both.
Afterward, she lay in his arms, snuggled against his warmth and utterly fulfilled. Why then did she have a dreadful feeling everything was about to slip through her fingers?
Kenneth waited until she fell asleep, then eased her from his tender hold. Badra’s skin was damp with perspiration from the frenzy of their lovemaking and he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek one last time.
"Good-bye, my love," he whispered.
One last kiss. He stroked Badra’s silky tresses. How could he bear to leave her? She was his very life, his spirit. Leaving wrenched him in two. Yet instinct to protect her overrode all else. Until he knew she was safe, he had no choice. Someone had tried to kill him and had targeted Jabari as well.
Kenneth battled with a desire to tell her and to enlist Jabari’s help. But he couldn’t risk their lives. Someone wanted him dead and had nearly succeeded in killing both Badra and Jabari. He must lay a trap for his assassin alone.
"Khepri," she whispered drowsily. "I love you."
"I love you too," he whispered back, watching her surrender to sleep. I will never stop loving you. He traced the curves of her face with one trembling finger, memorizing each. She was his life. His heart and soul. But he could not have his enemy use her as a pawn.
"Badra, I must leave you now. If ... if I never see you again, know this. My love for you will never die. And if our child grows inside you, tell him this story someday. About how a Khamsin warrior who became a wealthy duke found the most precious treasure of all, the woman he thought
he had lost forever."
Thickness clogging his throat prevented him from saying more. Kenneth kissed her forehead lightly and struggled to leave the rumpled bed. He dressed quickly and stole one last glance. A soft smile touched her sleeping face.
He left the bedroom, quietly closing the door. In the hallway, Kenneth pressed a palm against the wood, anguish knotting his chest.
"Khepri. What are you doing?"
He whirled and saw Badra’s falcon guard looking at him without his usual scowl. Without waiting for his answer, Rashid opened the door. Kenneth trailed him into the bedroom. A protest on his lips died as Rashid silently observed Badra sleeping on the bed. His gaze flicked to Kenneth’s rumpled clothing.
Without words, Kenneth left the room, and the warrior followed him into the hallway. There Kenneth faced him with a defiant look. "Yes, it’s true. We’re lovers."
Rashid gave him a thoughtful look. "Why did the eunuchs try so hard to kill you, Khepri? And then focus on Jabari?"
Kenneth’s shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. "I don’t know."
"You do," Rashid said softly. "Someone is trying to kill you. Perhaps the same person who trapped Badra by luring her there with her daughter—and maybe even who lured you there, too. A man who ordered his men to kill the Khamsin sheikh because Jabari is your brother, the person closest to you."
Kenneth tensed. "I will deal with this, Rashid. Alone. That is what I’m—"
"No, Khepri," Rashid said quietly. "You cannot do this alone. I will help you."
Dumbstruck, Kenneth stared. "I can’t risk it. I will not risk anyone else’s life but my own."
A grin stretched over Rashid’s face. "You have no choice. I will stick to your side like wet sand."
"Why?" Kenneth blurted.
The smile faded. "Perhaps because you returned for me at the brothel, Khepri. Perhaps because you love Badra, and because you are not the no-good lecherous bastard I thought you were."
Kenneth studied the man. "I could use your help," he admitted. "But you must do as I say. Listen to me, carefully ..."