by Albany, Cara
Then, it occurred to Zoe that Tariq was a man with a true passion for horses. She'd assumed he was just another member of the polo set, eager to be admired, desperate for approval. But, maybe she had been wrong about him. Maybe his desert roots set him apart in a way that Zoe hadn't recognized. She was quickly discovering hidden depths to Tariq. He'd changed so much. The question was, had Zoe also changed in the intervening years?
They made their way up the side of the dune. The horses legs sank into the soft sand. More than once, Tariq reached across and took Zoe's reins, guiding her horse up the steep slope, while maintaining control of his own mount.
Eventually, they reached the top of the dune and Zoe gasped. The view was tremendous. Dunes stretched away into the distance. The sheer intensity of the color of the miles of sand made Zoe's eyes narrow. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the brightness of the sun.
She'd never felt such an astonishing sense of distance and space. All her life had been spent within the confines of buildings, cities and carefully constructed spaces designed for comfort and safety. But, here, she felt a completely different set of sensations. Here, there was openness and freedom.
And then there was the silence. All she could hear were the sounds made by the movements of the horses, and the softness of her own breathing. It was suddenly disconcerting. Zoe understood how a place like this could inspire awe and fear in someone. Didn't Tariq feel fear in a place like this? How much hidden courage and strength did that reveal about him?
Tariq drew his horse close to her. She glanced across at Tariq and smiled. She suddenly understood what would draw him to such a place; why he would want to escape to this freedom, this liberating place of peace and tranquility.
Tariq seemed to be waiting before saying anything to her. It was as if he knew she would be affected by this place; was certain of its effect upon Zoe.
"This is amazing," she murmured.
Tariq gazed at the landscape. "Perhaps now you understand why I come here," he said.
Zoe nodded. "I do," she replied. "But don't you feel lonely out here?"
Tariq shook his head. "Quite the opposite. This place reinvigorates me. It gives me the strength I need to live. If I didn't come here, I wouldn't be half the man I am."
Zoe glanced across at Tariq. What kind of man was he? Did she really know? Had all her preconceptions about him been utterly wrong?
She could understand how this place could affect him like that. Zoe could almost feel the same thing herself. Had she been running away from her own problems, and not realizing it? Could she even contemplate making his palace and this place her own refuge from the world?
Zoe pushed those thoughts away. There was no use even considering making this her world. Not even if she was married to Tariq. That was a match made to end within the year, and there was no point going back on their decision.
They remained on the summit of the high dune for quite a while. Tariq gave her some water from his flask. She savored the cool liquid. Tariq's gaze became darkly earnest as he watched Zoe sip from the flask.
She handed the flask back to him. "Where are we headed now?" she asked suddenly eager to shift his focus away from her. Not much chance of that, she thought, judging by the way he looked at her while tucking the flask into his saddlebag.
"We're still pretty close to the palace," he said.
Zoe twisted in her saddle and peered back the way they had come. It was true. She thought they'd come a long way, but she could still see the palace, small and distant in the haze of the horizon. "I feel like we've been riding for ages," she said.
Tariq gave her a wry smile. "The desert does that to you. It changes your sense of time and space. It turns your perceptions of the world on their head."
Was that what he wanted? To make Zoe feel disoriented and dazed by this wondrous place. Did he have a plan to confuse her and make her light-headed with the strangeness of his world? And then what would he do?
"Of course, if you've had enough, we could always go back to the palace," he suggested. "Perhaps you've seen enough."
Zoe shook her head. "No. I want to see more," she declared, wondering at the same time if she meant what she had just said. She peered out across the forbidding landscape.
"Very well, then," Tariq said. "Follow me and I will show you what the desert really means," he said.
He flicked his reins, and his horse started down the long edge of the dune. Zoe was glad they were taking the easy way down. She followed him down, asking herself just what he had meant by his cryptic comment.
They rode for a while in silence. In the past, when they had been lovers in a different world, talk had seemed like an urgent necessity. Their busy lives had driven them to share everything about themselves in a hurry, as if time had been running out and they had to reveal their inner thoughts as quickly as possible. The intensity of their lightning-fast romance had burned like a hot flame.
But that had been a different life. Out here, the urge for meaningless chatter seemed somehow wrong, almost an intrusion on the peace that enveloped them. The silence between Zoe and Tariq felt oddly appropriate. As she rode by his side, he occasionally glanced across at her. His gaze had a calmness about it, a pleasing, comfortable ease which she found appealing.
The rise and fall of the dunes became hypnotic. She felt as if she was riding on waves of golden sand, being drawn inexorably out to a distant place with only this man as her guide; this sheikh who was now her husband.
She was sure that he knew the effect all of this was having on her. And, it explained the sudden, lengthy spell of silence. He was allowing the majesty of the place to possess her, to change the way she was feeling. Tariq seemed to know that any idle chat would only break the spell that was being woven throughout Zoe's being.
Zoe lost all sense of time. She pulled her horse to a stop at the base of a dune and peered up at the sun. "How far have we come?" she asked.
Tariq blinked, as if he'd been lost in a trance of his own. "A couple of hours. We haven't come too far."
Zoe felt a sudden surge of emotion in her middle. "How far?" she demanded.
"We'll be fine," Tariq said casually.
"You might think that. But, I prefer to know," Zoe said. A knot of anxiety twisted inside her. She glanced up toward the peak of the dune and dug her heels into the flanks of her mount, driving it up the steep slope. She heard Tariq emit a groan of disapproval from behind her.
At the summit of the dune, she turned and faced back toward the western horizon. She felt a tight hand grip her heart. Where was the palace!
Zoe glared at Tariq as he drew his mount to a halt beside her. "Where is it?"
Tariq frowned, looking puzzled.
"Where's the palace, Tariq?"
He turned and looked back west. "There," he said in a flat tone of voice as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"I can't see anything," Zoe objected. "Just how far have we come, Tariq?"
"There's nothing to fear, Zoe," he said. She felt something shift inside her at the sound of her name on his lips.
"That's easy for you to say," she replied, desperately trying to disguise the edginess she felt. Tariq reached out a hand and tried to lay it upon her arm, but she moved away from him.
"You've brought us too far," she accused him.
"You forget that I know this place like the back of my hand," he said.
"That's all well and good," Zoe replied. "But, it seems like an awfully long way back to our home," she said.
Tariq's lips creased into a smile at her inadvertent reference to the palace as their home. Zoe wondered why she had said that, but quickly pushed that thought from her mind.
"We'll be fine," Tariq said turning back toward the direction where the palace lay.
Then she saw him freeze and her sense of anxiety intensified.
Tariq's gaze had shifted to the south. His eyes narrowed, and there was a clear expression of concern on his face.
Zoe
peered in the direction of his gaze, but she could see nothing unusual.
"What is it?" she asked.
Tariq turned and looked to the north, his features pensive. His eyes shifted from side to side, and then he glanced at Zoe. "We must go," he stated.
"Why?" she asked.
Tariq pointed to the south. "That," he declared.
Zoe squinted and saw something new. There was a haze on the horizon, barely visible, but real nonetheless.
"Sandstorm," Tariq said simply. "We must go. There is a place where we can take shelter. But we must ride quickly."
"What are you talking about?" Zoe objected.
Tariq grasped the reins of Zoe's horse and started to guide it northwards across the sandy summit of the dune.
Zoe grabbed the reins away from him, and he turned quickly, gazing at her. There was a sudden fierce urgency in that gaze that took Zoe by surprise. He drew his mount to a halt and peered at Zoe. "This is no time for you to start arguing with me," he said.
"Where are you taking me?" Zoe demanded.
Tariq's gaze shifted past Zoe's shoulder toward the southern horizon. "That storm will take us if we don't get shelter quickly," he said. There was a conviction in his voice, a certainty that took her by surprise.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"There is no time for this, Zoe. You must trust me," he said.
Zoe sighed and glanced back toward the southern horizon. The hazy cloud was visibly larger now. She looked into Tariq's eyes and saw barely contained fear in his dark, demanding gaze.
"We must ride. And quickly," he declared.
Zoe nodded.
Tariq seized the reins of his stallion and raced off, pounding down the sharp edge of the dune.
Zoe kicked her mount into sudden movement, racing off in pursuit of Tariq.
Where was he taking her? And, more importantly, would they reach safety in time?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
What had he been thinking of? He'd been lost in a dream, riding alongside Zoe, joyously content to be here in this golden paradise with her. Alone.
And he had allowed them to stray into danger. What an idiot he'd been!
Tariq pushed his horse to even greater speed. He twisted in his saddle and looked behind him. Zoe was there, matching his pace, and he felt a surge of relief. She looked in complete control of her mare. There was a determined focus on Zoe's features as she leaned forward, driving her mount fast across the flat plain of sand.
They'd be there soon, Tariq thought. The only place for miles around that could offer any chance of safety from the storm. Out here, exposed and vulnerable, they could possibly hunker down, jammed against the sides of the horses, settled deep against the protective northern side of a dune. They could cover themselves with the blanket in his saddle bag and hope for the best.
If he had been here on his own he might have tried that.
But, Tariq knew that it wouldn't be enough. It wasn't good enough because it didn't guarantee Zoe's safety.
He drove his horse onward. If they were lucky, they'd arrive at the place within minutes. But, he knew it would be a close call.
He'd been a fool. He'd placed Zoe in danger by simply losing his mind for a few hours. That was what she could do to him, he realized. Lose his hold on rational thought. How could someone so beautiful also be so dangerous? But the danger felt so good, he thought. It gave his life an edge that it had lacked for such a long time.
Tariq had been so concerned about making a favorable impression upon Zoe that he had loosened his awareness of the inherent perils of the desert. And those perils were very real.
Tariq glanced behind him and up at the sky. He could see the gray, diffuse cloud growing there. The air had become cooler, and he could feel the wind at his back. The light was dimmer now, and soon they would be at risk of losing any sense of direction. It wouldn't be long before they were enclosed in the lethal cloud, pummeling them with dust that would clog their lungs and lacerate their exposed skin.
Tariq drove his horse as fast as he could.
Suddenly, they crested the peak of a low dune and there it was.
The encampment.
Tariq drew his horse to a halt and waited for Zoe.
Down below Tariq saw the familiar sight of the tented encampment by the edge of the tree-lined oasis. A cluster of half a dozen large tents hugged the edge of the small pool of water.
Tariq saw a few figures rushing around, preparing for the imminent arrival of storm. The tribesmen knew Tariq well. He was a regular visitor to the encampment. He and Zoe would be safe there.
Zoe halted next to Tariq. He saw her eyes widen as she gazed down at the sight below. She looked at him, astonishment written on her features.
They said nothing to each other, an unspoken agreement passing between them. Tariq turned and peered at the dark cloud billowing toward them. The wind was stronger now, and he could feel a soft spray of dust caressing his face.
Then, Tariq jerked on his reins and started down the incline of the dune.
Moments later he and Zoe rode into the camp. Two tribesmen, their robes tied tightly around themselves, looked up in surprise. Tariq leaped of his horse, keeping hold of the reins. He explained the situation to the men, and they took his horse, leading it away. Tariq moved quickly toward Zoe.
She dismounted and stood in front of him, holding onto the head covering of her robe. The wind was stronger now, and he could see the dawning comprehension in her eyes. She knew this was their only option.
Without saying anything, Tariq took the reins of her horse and handed them to another of the tribesmen. Then he wrapped his fingers around Zoe's arm and led her toward one of the large tents. He was pleased that she didn't resist, gratified that she seemed to trust him implicitly in this matter.
Tariq thrust aside the loose tent flap. As he'd requested, they were already making the tent ready for himself and Zoe. Inside the tent, a few tribesmen were rapidly gathering up their belongings. Tariq paused at the entrance and turned to Zoe, who was watching the scene inside the tent with a look of puzzlement on her features.
"What's going on?" she called out to him, raising her voice above the steady, low roar of the wind.
"What does it look like?" he replied. "They're making the place ready for us."
"Us?" she exclaimed. "How long are we going to be here for?"
Tariq peered up at the ugly dark cloud. "For as long as this thing lasts," he explained.
Tariq saw Zoe's eyes widen. "When are we going back to the palace?" he heard her ask.
Tariq shook his head and said nothing in reply. He looked inside the tent. It was almost ready for them. He stepped inside and spoke quickly to the men. They would be safe in their shared tents. On his arrival, Tariq had become the men's priority. As the sheikh, they had a duty to protect him and anyone traveling with him. It was an obligation born of tribal tradition and respect for the Al Kharif family.
The men left, and Tariq turned to Zoe, who was still standing at the entrance, a hesitant look on her face.
Tariq went to Zoe and extended a hand. "Come. Enter," he commanded.
He saw her eyes narrow and heard her draw in a deep breath. She didn't like it, but she obviously realized she hardly had any choice in the matter.
Zoe took his hand. Tariq held her fingers tightly and guided her into the tent. Her steps were tentative, and she gazed around the spacious interior of the large tent with nothing short of astonishment written on her face.
Tariq released her hand and went to the tent entrance, pulling down the flap and tying it securely. From outside, the wind pushed against the tent's fabric, causing it to buckle inwards, but it held fast. They'd be safe for now, Tariq thought.
He turned, eager to see how Zoe was. The image that greeted him caused the breath to catch in his throat. Zoe stood in the center of the ornately woven carpet. She had slipped off the wrappings from her head and was gazing around the interior.
Zoe's beautiful gree
n eyes seemed to shimmer, catching the light from the lamp which sat upon the small stool near her feet. She had loosened her thick blonde hair, shifting it so that it settled across her left shoulder. She was slowly running her fingers through her hair, in a way that he suddenly recalled from a long time ago. She only ever did that when she was nervous and unsure about something. Seeing her doing that made something tense with a sudden desire inside himself.
Tariq took a step toward her, and her eyes fixed on him, causing him to halt. There was curiosity as well as challenge in that look.
"Are we going to be safe here?" she asked.
He was taken aback by the obviousness of the question.
"Right now, there's nowhere we will be safer than here," he replied.
He saw her glance toward the wall of tent cloth which partitioned off another area of the enclosure.
"What's behind there?" she asked, although he was sure she already knew the answer to that question.
Tariq paused a moment. He felt his throat tighten slightly as her gaze settled on him. "That's the sleeping area," he murmured.
Her eyes widened imperceptibly, and her cheeks flushed with a subtle pink.
Zoe turned and gazed around the interior. "This is surprisingly comfortable," she observed. "From the outside, it looks so plain."
Tariq moved closer to Zoe. "They make sure the interiors are made for comfort," he said looking at the many soft cushions strewn across the large rugs which covered the desert floor. He had to agree that it would be a pleasant place to wait until the storm passed. That would be a least a few hours, he realized.
That meant it would be almost night by the time it was safe to travel back to the palace. They couldn't travel in the dark, so there was the prospect that he and Zoe would have to pass the night here in this tent. Tariq had to suppress the urge to smile. That was not something he had planned, but it promised so much, as long as Zoe could be made to feel at home.
Tariq examined the interior. The whole space was around thirty meters square, so it was the largest of the tents in the encampment. A long red, cushion-covered mattress had been laid on the floor off to one side against the red patterned tent wall. The makeshift divan looked invitingly comfortable. He could imagine Zoe lying there, enjoying the hospitality of the tribe and the attentions of Tariq. He drove that last thought out of his mind.
