Karim went up as fast as he could. When his feet were on solid deck, he turned and leaned over the side. Morgan was already on her way up. But she was being careful, going slow, trying to keep Matin safe in the crook of one arm while she used the other to climb.
All of a sudden shots rang out from the dock and a bullet whizzed close by his head. They were under attack! And taking rifle fire. The sound of another bullet zinging past caught his attention the hard way. He felt a fiery sting biting into the flesh of his shoulder and knew it had been too close. But it wasn’t bad enough for him to flinch or cry out.
“Hurry,” he shouted down to Morgan.
He could hear a motorboat starting up back at the dock and knew they would soon be facing Taj soldiers. He had to help Morgan and the child board now.
Hooking his feet on a couple of heavy, wire fish traps, he leaned as far out of the boat as he dared. He heard the trawler’s engines starting up beneath decks and felt the motion of the fishing vessel getting under way.
When Morgan was only a couple of feet from the edge, she stopped and planted her feet inside the rope’s rungs. “Take the baby.”
She shoved the boy above her head and into Karim’s waiting arms. He pulled the child against his chest. As the boat rolled he lost his balance, landing hard on his back on the deck. A fisherman took the baby, allowing Karim to help Morgan climb aboard.
Once again Karim braced his feet and leaned over the side. She was close enough now that he could grab her. He latched his arms under her arm pits just as she grabbed hold of his neck.
He tugged as hard as he could—while hearing more shots ringing out through the darkness. They got lucky. Her whole body easily came with him as they fell back over the edge. They’d made it.
“You’re safe,” he shouted past the noise of the trawler’s engine racing away from their pursuers.
But she didn’t answer. She didn’t move.
“Morgan?” He pulled her up into his arms, but she was as limp as a rag doll.
And then he found the blood. Too much blood. When he rolled her over and spotted bullet holes in her back, his stomach pitched, and a red haze came down over his eyes.
No! It couldn’t be so. His brain couldn’t process the truth. He refused to accept that he might have just lost the one woman in his life who had made him feel like a whole man.
“You should see him.” Tarik Kadir stood beside Morgan’s hospital bed in Germany, annoying her with his pleas on behalf of his cousin. “Karim hasn’t left the hospital since the moment you were brought in. He’s barely slept and I have trouble getting him to eat. One of the surgeons practically threw him in the shower this morning because he’d started to smell so bad.
“See him, dammit, and put me out of my misery.”
Still weak but growing stronger by the hour, Morgan figured it was useless to keep refusing to listen to whatever Karim had to say. But she was afraid of her own reactions—of her traitorous heart.
He’d saved her life and the life of the baby. Since she’d come out of surgery, Tarik had told her the whole story. He’d given her the facts of how Karim had raced through horrendous street battles to rescue Matin at the fortress after the rebels had deserted their posts. He hadn’t willingly left her.
Tarik also told of how, when they were aboard the trawler, even though he’d been wounded himself, Karim had stood over her and the baby, firing at the pursuing Taj until they’d reached the Kadirs’ ship and help. And finally, Tarik made her listen to how Karim had donated his own blood when she’d lost so much the Kadir ship’s doctor was afraid she might not last until they could helicopter her to a hospital.
What could she say to a man like that?
“Morgan, he’s right outside. Please.”
“All right.” This discussion would have to come about sooner or later.
In seconds, Karim had taken his cousin’s place at her bedside. “How are you feeling?”
She looked up into his eyes and immediately her throat closed. Wanting him so much that she was physically ill with the need, she could barely talk. But she had to keep reminding herself that a relationship between the two of them could never happen. They were too different.
“Better,” she finally managed. “How’s your arm?”
“It’s nothing.” He gazed down at her and fisted his hands.
He wanted to touch her, she could tell. She knew him well enough by now. And she wanted that, too. But she didn’t reach for him. Instead she started to open her mouth to give the little speech she’d planned but quickly shut it again after really gazing up into his face.
Just look at his expression. That expression clearly said he adored her. That she meant enough for him to give up his life for her.
No one had ever looked at her with such desire and tenderness at the same time. Oh, lordy, her whole body ached for him. Maybe there could be a chance for them.
“I…I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said with a hoarse rasp. “I didn’t do my job. It was my fault you almost died. On my next mission, I’ll do better.”
Her heart sank, the tiny flicker of hope she’d harbored disappeared. “You’re going out on more missions? I would’ve thought you’d had enough. You’ve already avenged your father’s death in the best possible way by saving a child’s life. You’re a good person, Karim. Doesn’t a little peace and security sound nice after what we went through?”
His gaze grew even more tender, if that were possible, and his voice lowered to a whisper. “When you say I’m a good person, I can almost believe it. But peace and security can’t be any part of my life until the Taj give up their vendetta against our family.”
Oh, God. They would never have anything in common.
“The doctors say I’ll be released tomorrow or the next day,” she said instead of what her heart wanted her to say. “I’m eager to go home.”
As his expression darkened, she thought of something they had in common after all. “How’s Baby Matin? Where is he? Can I see him before I go back to America?”
“Tarik’s brother Shakir and his wife have custody of Matin at their Mediterranean island children’s sanctuary. But it’s temporary, until the Kadir council can decide which Kadir family should get the baby on a more permanent basis.”
The sadness she felt became nearly overwhelming. “Will he be okay?”
“I will make sure the baby is happy and well cared for. You can count on it.”
Before she could make another remark, he blurted out, “Come with me, Morgan. Don’t go home to your ranch. Make a life with me and help us fight the Taj instead.”
Her whole body trembled with need. “I can’t. You like jumping off the edge and diving into trouble—sandstorms, civil war. You like the adrenaline of it. But I’m done with that kind of life. I’m planning on building a very different kind of life for myself.”
She took a deep breath. “I…just can’t.”
Karim’s eyes grew cloudy as he tilted his head to study her face. “You want the kind of life where I don’t belong?”
Morgan didn’t know how to answer. The sadness in her chest grew more insistent at the idea of never seeing him again. But—
“You know,” he said slowly. “Sometimes even the best-made plans are destined to be changed.”
Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and tried to close her heart. “Not these plans. Not this time.”
Chapter 11
Morgan stomped into her late grandmother’s kitchen, tired and hungry. And so lonely, she thought, she might die of it.
Nearly two months now since she’d come back to her childhood home in Wyoming, and nothing was like she’d thought it would be. Her second cousins were the ones running the family ranch and using the first floor of this house as an office. She’d been happy to see her extended relatives again and thought if she moved in upstairs, it would be nice having people around all the time.
But that was the trouble. These were just people. Not real family. They didn’t l
ove her.
She didn’t belong here. This wasn’t her place anymore. Besides, she missed Karim so bad sometimes it made her hurt all over. The look of pain on his face when she’d sent him away for good at the hospital still made nightly appearances in her nightmares.
Shaking off the melancholy and going to the sink, she washed her hands, preparing to make herself some lunch. But instead, she stood there, looking out the kitchen window at the horse corral she’d left a few minutes earlier. She swiped absently at a lone tear and thought, How silly.
There wasn’t much she could do that was useful here on this enormous ranch. Hired hands did all the fun work like caring for and moving the herds. Her second cousin, Neil, kept the books and took care of all the paperwork. Morgan felt out of place, and she worried all the time how she would ever make a life for herself here—or anywhere.
“Morgan?” Neil swung open the door and stuck his head in the room. “I thought I might find you in the kitchen. There’s someone here to see you.”
Someone? As in, another person that she didn’t care about?
But as she dried her hands and prepared to follow Neil out to the office, the someone brushed past her cousin’s retreating back and stormed into the room just as the door swung closed behind him.
Now this was someone she did care about. “Karim.” What was he doing here?
And how did she look? Where was a mirror when you really needed one?
“I…hope it’s okay.” His rugged profile, the stubborn chin and deep-set eyes twisted her all around.
“Of course it is. I’m glad to see you. Would you care to sit down?”
She pulled out one of the chairs from around the big kitchen table and gestured for him to take it. “Can I get you something? Coffee? Water? I was just about to make myself some lunch. I could…”
“Please.” He took her hand as he sat down. “Sit with me. I have something to say. To ask.”
Crazy idiot that she was, she’d been babbling due to a huge case of nerves. Now, as she felt the warmth of his hand holding hers, she couldn’t think of a thing to say. So, she sat down in the chair next to his and closed her mouth.
Maybe she was holding her breath, waiting to hear what he had to say. Or maybe she had died, and this was all a dream where she didn’t need any air at all.
“First of all,” he began, sounding too sharp. “Tarik tells me I am a fool.”
She felt Karim’s thumb rubbing circles on her palm. The electric sensations he created were making it hard to concentrate on his words, but they went a long way toward calming her down.
“Morgan Bell, do you know that I love you?”
Her breath whooshed out in a rush. “What?” No, wait. That was a stupid thing to say. Think of something else—something better.
“I mean, yes, Karim Kadir. I do know that you love me.”
“Well, I never said it before, and Tarik tells me that was not very smart. Women like to hear the words sometimes.”
He swallowed hard as he held both her hands and stared into her eyes, his tender gaze making the butterflies in her stomach soar. “I don’t expect for you to say you love me back. But the thing is, I believe you do care for me. And if that’s true, I wondered if perhaps you would give me the time to make you happy—to show you how much I care.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she would give him anything if he would just shut up and kiss her. But before she could, he dropped her hands and stood, nervously pacing the floor next to the table.
“I’ve learned a lot about me since I last saw you in the hospital,” he said. “I found out that I’m much happier working with computers and machinery than I am in the field. I guess I should’ve known that all along, but I had always wanted so bad to be like my brother that I…”
With a look of frustration, he slammed one of his fists into the other palm. “I suppose you can call me stupid along with foolish. Anyway, I’ve decided—with Tarik’s sincere encouragement—to stay out of the field and go back to helping the Kadirs with their electronic needs.”
“Oh?” She still wasn’t able to utter anything more than one syllable.
“Yes. And I’m not sure if you understand this, but I can do that kind of work from anywhere in the world. I don’t have to necessarily be located at the Kadirs’ Mediterranean compound or anywhere close. So…”
He inhaled a deep breath and rushed ahead. “I was hoping you might give me a job. I can handle any kind of machinery or vehicles. Tractors. Hay balers. Trucks. Or I could set up a new computer accounting system for the ranch. Just as long as I can work part-time for the Kadirs, it doesn’t—”
“Wait.” She held up her hand and stood, too. “You want to move here? So the two of us can be together?”
He halted in his tracks. The look of panic that appeared on his face was priceless. He was worried she would say no.
Going to his side, she gently touched his chest. “Listen to me, Karim. I was wrong to insist on coming back here to what I thought of as home. Home can be anywhere. On a schooner on the Indian Ocean. Or in an ice house on the frozen tundra in the Arctic. Or even in the back of an RV rolling down the highway.”
He covered her hand on his chest with one of his own. She could see the hope creeping into his expression.
“What makes it home is the love,” she continued. “The sense of belonging and the people there who care. I won’t give you a job here. But I will go with you—anywhere. As long as we’re together, it’ll be our home.”
That’s when he did kiss her. Finally. The warmth, the longing, everything he was feeling combusted inside her like a Molotov cocktail exploding on impact.
As he pulled back for air, he whispered, “Stay with me always, Morgan. Marry me.”
She dragged his head down to kiss him again, letting him know she accepted his proposal. They would be together. They would be a family. Always.
High on a breezy hill, with the aquamarine of the Aegean Sea in the distance, Karim Kadir saved his heart. He married the love of his life with his cousins and their families looking on.
Now, the two of them stood arm in arm, watching the others dance. Just happy to be together. So far the day had been one of his best. The weather was clear. The food and songs were his favorites. It was almost perfect.
But he wanted everything. He wanted perfect.
Though he might be a fool, he wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t given Morgan a chance to change her mind after she’d agreed to marriage. He’d whisked her off to the Kadirs’ compound and only gave her a couple of days to prepare. And she seemed happy about it all. But every once in a while he saw a sad look come into her eyes, and he was arrogant enough to believe he knew why.
Placing a quick kiss across her lips, he said, “I have a gift for you.”
“Another one?” She laughed and hugged him tighter. “You’ve already bought me property and a house here on this hill. And made arrangements to bring in riding horses so I can train your cousins how to ride in the desert. What else?”
“Wait.” He turned and signaled to Shakir, who’d been waiting for the sign. “Now, close your eyes.”
When she did as he asked, Karim hurried over to pick up her present and get back to her side before she opened her eyes or peeked out of curiosity.
“What is it, husband?”
The sound of those words made him ever more eager to please her in any way possible. “Okay. Now you may look.”
As she opened her eyes, he saw exactly the emotions he had hoped to see.
“Matin! Oh, Karim. You’ve brought the baby to our wedding. That’s the best present yet. Thank you.” She reached out and took the boy who seemed just as happy to see her.
Over babbling baby talk, she gazed lovingly up at Karim. “How long can he stay? Who are his new parents?”
Now was the time to tell her all. “If you agree, we are his parents. I spoke to the Kadir council and they think we would be perfect for the job.”
He waited, afraid to mov
e. Knowing this was asking a lot of such a planner on short notice, he listened to the beating of his own heart. Warily, he watched as his new wife took in the meaning of her gift.
Suddenly, she burst into tears and clutched the baby closer. Karim had never seen his strong-willed, intense wife cry.
Backpedaling, he desperately sought to find the right thing to say. “I’m sorry. I know you hadn’t planned for this. But I thought—”
“Oh, Karim, I love you so much. We’re going to make such a wonderful family.” She leaned against his side, and he closed his arms around both her and the baby.
Perfect.
SHEIK’S CAPTIVE
Loreth Anne White
For Linda Conrad, always an inspiration, and to the
team at Harlequin, always wonderful to work with.
Chapter 1
Kathleen Flaherty stood at the bedouin tent entrance, her robes fluttering softly about her ankles as she watched darkness descend over the dry, distant Sahara range. The Adrar Plateau lay over those distant mountains. Her guides said they could possibly reach the plateau by tomorrow night. But the going would be rough.
Kathleen didn’t care how rough. She just prayed Adrar would yield some clue as to what might have happened to her sister, Jennie, missing for nine months now. The mystical Adrar Plateau was where a bedouin elder said he’d glimpsed a woman resembling the photograph of Jennie that Kathleen had been showing around in Tessalit. It was Kathleen’s last hope. If no new information surfaced in Adrar, Jennie’s trail would grow cold, and Kathleen would be left with no idea where to turn.
But while her own anxiety had been mounting over what tomorrow might bring, Kathleen had sensed a different kind of tension growing in her guides as they’d neared those mountains. She’d glimpsed it in the flicker of an eye, the quick exchange of a glance, a nervous movement. And she was beginning to feel as if their tiny convoy might be venturing into hostile territory.
The wind, tinged with campfire smoke, gusted a little harder, nosing under flaps, billowing the canvas structure. While it was a change from the airless, blistering temperatures through which Kathleen and her small caravan had traveled throughout the day, the breeze provided scant relief. It remained hot, dry, and in her imagination, the moving air rustled with warnings about an unknown danger lurking somewhere over those mountains. Kathleen tried to shake the notion, but that was her failing—a flair for the dramatic, a wild imagination. And it was not coupled with bravado. Kathleen was crap-scared by what she was doing out here.
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