Hide-and-Sheikh

by Gail Dayton

  He walked across the drive, heading toward an isolated car, keys in his hand. Ellen broke into a trot.

  "Rudi!" She called to him. What was she doing? She'd just talked Campanello into trying to talk Ibrahim into leaving Rudi alone. She'd intended to watch from a distance, not chase him down in a parking lot. She had lost her mind yet again.

  He turned. The smile faded from his face when he saw her, and Ellen's jog slowed to a walk, then came to a halt. She'd killed his smile.

  "Ellen?" Rudi took a step toward her, uncertainty in his expression. But the longer he looked at her, the more his face closed down. "I will not go back."

  "I had to tell them where you were, Rudi. I had to." She forced her feet to move again, to walk toward him. "Your brother was on the verge of a heart attack, he was so worried about you."

  "Ibrahim always looks like that." Rudi glanced away briefly, before capturing Ellen's gaze again. "It is no good. I cannot live a life that I hate. I hate the man I was becoming—useless, good-for-nothing. A waste of time, my own and everyone else's."

  "No, Rudi. You're not like that." She stopped near the back of the car where he stood, its neighbors already gone home.

  "I was becoming like that," he said. "If you put handcuffs on me and chain my legs together, you can carry me onto the plane and take me back. But I will not stay. It has become a prison to me."

  "I'm not the one you need to be saying this to. I believe you. But you have to come back and tell your brother. Tell your father."

  "What does it matter to you? You care only because you are paid to care. Without my father's money, you would watch me die in the street and not lift a finger."

  "That's not true!"

  "Isn't it?"

  As he turned away, keys out to unlock the car, the image of the men in the blue van sprang to mind, and she felt the internal click as a pattern slid into place. The men matched the pictures she'd seen of the terrorists, though they'd shaved off their mustaches as a disguise. Their attention had been focused in this direction, as if anticipating…

  "Don't touch the car!" Ellen leapt as she shouted, shoving Rudi onto the grassy median and rolling with him to the far side. Time seemed to slow. Her heart pounded five times, six. Then the bomb blast hit her, knocking her head into the concrete. Everything went gray and blurry.

  The explosion startled Rudi. Then it made him angry. He lifted his head, hoping to see a car or a license plate, and he saw two men getting out of a van, guns in their hands. Rising to a crouch, he glanced at Ellen. She struggled, her legs moving feebly, and she groped in the small of her back, but could not grasp her weapon. She was injured.

  Rudi drew the big pistol in her stead and fired at the onrushing men. Wishing he had spent more time at the practice range during his last training session with the military, he fired again as he helped Ellen up and guided her behind a pickup truck in the next aisle.

  "Ellen, where are you hurt?" He raked his gaze over her, looking for blood.

  "What?" She frowned at him, then flinched as a short burst of gunfire ricocheted around them.

  It cut off abruptly, and Rudi could hear the terrorists arguing. He peered over the truck, hearing sirens screaming in the near distance, and saw one of the men gesturing back toward the getaway vehicle, while the other kept swinging his machine gun in Rudi's direction. They had brought harm to Ellen.

  Bracing the heavy gun, very similar to his own, on the hood of the truck, he took careful aim and fired at the more belligerent of the two. The man dropped like a rock.

  The other turned to run. Rudi fired a warning shot and called for him to stop. "I did not kill your friend," he said in his own language. "But I will kill you. You know that I can."

  The man halted. He dropped his weapon and raised his hands in the air, head hunched down as if expecting the fatal shot at any moment. Just then, what seemed to be twoscore police cars came screaming into the parking lot. Rudi laid Ellen's gun on the truck and lifted his hands as well.

  "Rudi." Ellen tugged at his pants leg.

  "Yes, Ellen?" He knelt beside her, cupping her cheek for support when she did not seem able to hold her head up on her own.

  "Are you hurt?"

  "No, zahra. I am well. Where are you hurt?"

  She touched her head, and now Rudi could see the swelling, huge and red, above her temple. He started up to call for the ambulance, but Ellen caught his shirt collar and tugged him back.

  "I was so worried," she whispered. The tears in her voice and pooled in her eyes shocked Rudi. He did not understand.

  "Because you are paid to protect me," he said, trying to make things clear in his mind.

  "Because I'd rather die than let anything happen to you." She tugged at his collar again. "Are you sure you're not hurt?"

  "I am not hurt, my Ellen. But you are." He stood, lifting her in his arms. The authorities waited, allowed him to carry Ellen to the nearby ambulance, apparently informed of his role in the incident by the onlookers now crowding around.

  Rudi identified Ellen. He identified himself only as Rudolph al Mukhtar. No one here knew any different, other than Ellen and the two criminals. There would be time enough later for the police to know his true name. He rode in the ambulance with her to the hospital, where he gave his statement to the police. He allowed the medical personnel to tend to his scrapes and cuts.

  The two terrorists captured were only a small part of the gang of thugs ranged against his father. They would provide valuable information, particularly since they had set off their bomb in Oklahoma, a state with good reason to hate bombers. But it would take time to capture the entire group. And for all of that time, if he allowed Ellen to remain near him, she would be in terrible danger. She had already risked her life to save his. By her own words, she would do it again, as a matter of honor at the very least.

  Ellen thought it was her job to protect him. But she was wrong.

  When the doctors released her, mostly because she refused to stay "just in case," Ellen went looking for Rudi. All of the things she'd said to him, all of the things she hadn't let Ibrahim say were still true. Nothing had changed. But still, she had to see him, had to see with her own eyes that he was unharmed. She found him with Frank and Tom, his bodyguards, in the waiting room.

  "We waited to see if you needed a lift to the hotel," Frank said, getting to his feet. "Besides, the prince wouldn't leave. We didn't figure it would be a good idea to knock him out and carry him off after these guys just tried to blow him up."

  Ellen scarcely heard him, all her attention was so focused on Rudi. He looked worn, almost haggard, with circles under his eyes and an incipient beard shadowing his face. Then he saw her and smiled, and all her good, logical intentions vanished like fog in the sunshine, especially when she saw the worry tucked behind the smile. Could he truly care for her?

  "Are you well, zahra?" His hand rose toward the bump on her head, paused when he glanced at the bodyguards, then retreated.

  "Well enough that they turned me loose." Ellen tried to make her smile big enough to encompass all three men, but she failed. It was for Rudi alone.

  "The police found your car and brought your bag." Rudi took it from a ferociously scowling Frank and handed it to her. "The rental company will pick up the car in the morning."

  Ellen glanced at Frank. He was still scowling. Why?

  Rudi took her arm, drawing her attention back. "Are you sure you feel well enough to return to the hotel?"

  "I'm fine." The light-headed feeling had nothing to do with banging her head on concrete. It was all Rudi.

  His arm beneath hers for support, he directed her steps to the door, to the large sedan waiting outside. Inside the car, Rudi urged her head over onto his shoulder. "Rest," he said.

  She let her eyes close. Frank and Tom would watch, would give her time to think. But all she could think of was Rudi: her terror as he turned to open the car door, her relief at finding him safe, her contentment at this moment nestled close to him, with h
is hand resting on her knee.

  His hand on her knee. The touch warmed all the cold, frightened places inside her. It loosened the knots of worry and set her free. So what if it hurt when he left her? She was hurting now, in her heart much more than her banged-up head. And maybe he wouldn't leave.

  She'd sent him away before. Maybe if she asked for a second chance, showed him she believed in him, maybe he would stay. Even if only for a day, that was more than she had now.

  Ellen curved her hand around his muscular arm and snuggled closer. She could feel Rudi's smile against her forehead.

  "Are you comfortable, zahra?"

  "Mmm." She didn't want to waste energy in talking. Not just yet.

  Sitting so close reminded her of that one wonderful night, when she'd been able to believe in fairy tales for a few short hours. A night when Rudi had made all her most secret dreams come true. And she wondered.

  According to those who knew, lightning often struck the same place twice. More than twice, sometimes. Her free hand slid down onto Rudi's lap and she tucked her fingers between his legs. Rudi tensed a brief second, then he relaxed, and his hand on her knee slid a bit higher. She could feel the fires start to burn inside her again. Whatever else happened between them, she wanted a chance to see if what the experts said about lightning was true.

  Ten

  At the hotel, Rudi got out of the car to escort Ellen to her room, ignoring Frank's gruff instructions to stay put. Rudi would allow no one else to care for his tough, fragile city flower. And despite his resolve to remain strong and protect Ellen from her virtues, the drive from the hospital had proved him the weak man he was. He must have one last kiss from her pink, petal lips.

  She clung to his arm through the small lobby, hugging it close as they walked up the stairs, Frank trailing behind. The pressure of her soft breast against his arm would drive him mad if he allowed it to. But he was stronger than his passions. One kiss. Then he would leave.

  By the time Ellen stopped outside her room and handed Rudi the key, he was offering thanks for Frank's glowering presence. The bodyguard would not allow Rudi to forget himself or Ellen's injuries. Perhaps it would be better to forgo the kiss.

  Rudi slipped the card key through the lock and opened the door, but instead of walking through it alone, Ellen tugged on his arm.

  "Ellen, I do not think—"

  "Then don't." She grabbed his collar and backed into the room, dragging him after her.

  "—this is a wise decision," Rudi finished as the door swung heavily shut behind him.

  "I don't care."

  In the dim entry light of the cookie-cutter room, Ellen looked up at him. Her expression softened, and for the first time he saw her without disguise or tension, the woman he had somehow known he would find behind her mask—strong, soft, tenderhearted. He could only gaze back into her summer-blue eyes.

  Her hand rose, stroked gently across his cheek. "You scared me half to death," she said in a whisper-soft caress of her voice.

  "You can see I am not hurt." Rudi caught her hand, intending to set her away from him. Instead he pressed her palm to his lips and held it there.

  "I see. But I can't quite believe it." She ran her other hand down his chest, shaping her touch to his form. "I have a whole month of worry to make up for. I feel like I've been searching for you my whole life. I would think I saw you on the street, but it was never you. It's going to take more than just seeing to believe I've found you."

  Shuddering with the effort to maintain control, Rudi could not stop her hands as Ellen moved them from his mouth to the back of his head, from his chest around his waist to his back. He could only hold himself rigidly still as she stepped closer, pressed her sweet body against his. Then she lifted her face, like a flower to the sun, and kissed him.

  The first touch of her lips shook him. The delicate thrust of her tongue shattered his control into a million glittering pieces. His arms whipped around her, crushing her to him as he plundered her mouth, tasting deep, needing more. When Ellen added her passion to his own, Rudi was far too weak to resist.

  He lifted her in his arms, unable, unwilling to end the kiss. He carried her to the bed, where he laid her gently down. "How is your head?" he whispered. "I do not wish to hurt you."

  "The only way you'll hurt me," Ellen said, twining her arms around his neck, "is if you stop. Don't leave me."

  "No."

  Rudi touched his mouth gently to hers, deepening the kiss as his fingers traveled from button to button, opening her shirt and laying bare her beauty. He couldn't stop kissing her to look. As she had said, seeing was not enough. He had seen her, could still summon her image to his mind, savor the delight of her beauty. He needed to touch her, to curve his hands over the soft, high roundness of her breasts, along the sweet sweep of her waist, over the delicate hollow between her hipbones. Then perhaps he could believe she was real and in his arms.

  He stripped away her clothes, then assisted her in removing his own, never ceasing his kiss or the driving thrust of his tongue into her mouth. He tried to wait, to bring her passion equal to his own, but when he sent his fingers delicately seeking her hidden places, he found her slick and ready, waiting for him. Barely able to take time to protect her, Rudi slid home.

  At that moment, he knew. Ellen was his home, the only one he needed. She was his heart, the breath in his body, his beloved.

  He whispered the words to her in his own language as he loved her with his body, too much the coward to bare his soul in words she could understand. She had already told him she did not, would not believe his words of love, but perhaps if he showed her…

  Rudi whispered the truth in her ear, in words she did not know, while his body sang to her songs with a beat as old as life itself. His heart pounded double time as he laced his fingers with hers, holding her in place. He drove deep inside her, striving to touch her soul with each thrust. Her sighs and moans sang counterpoint to his slow, silent tempo. She danced for him, her hips rising to meet him, urgent and demanding. And finally, with a crescendoing cry, she raked her nails across his back.

  Ellen throbbed around him, and Rudi lost all semblance of control, pounding into her like a madman. Her pulsing climax continued, driving him beyond madness into a passionate explosion of such power that his mind went white.

  Outside the room, Frank knocked softly on the door, then looked at his watch again. He sighed and pulled out his cell phone.

  "Park the car, Tom," he said when his call was answered. "He's still in there with her. After this long, you know he ain't comin' out. Rent the rooms on either side—pull out that diplomat thing if you have to—and get your butt up here."

  He hung up the phone and sighed again. Then he leaned against the door, folded his arms across his chest and settled in.

  Rudi lay beside Ellen, studying her face by the pink light filtering through the gap in the curtains. Dawn would break soon, and the neon's power would fade. He wondered if dawn's light would fade the power of the things they had known and felt in this room.

  He thought not. His love for Ellen would not fade, but it had to change. He loved her. Therefore he could not put her life in danger. He could not allow her to put her body between his and those who would do him harm. Even if she were no longer employed as his bodyguard, Rudi knew it would make no difference to Ellen. If they were together and came under attack, she would act in the same manner.

  Huge cracks opened in his heart as his eyes traced the straight line of her nose, the sweep of her eyelashes across her cheeks. He had awakened her twice more in the night, partly to follow the doctor's instructions and ensure that she would wake, but mostly to make love to her again. Each time proved sweeter than the one before. He stored up memories, knowing that much time would pass before they could be together thus, before they could be together at all. Chances were very good that he would never hold Ellen in his arms again.

  His mind told him it was better so. His heart agreed, unwilling to put her at risk even as
it mourned. Rudi slipped from the bed, careful not to disturb Ellen's slumber, and he dressed. He debated leaving a note, but decided against it. She had never spoken of love, save to deny it. Better that she continue on that path.

  Quickly Rudi slipped from the room. Tom rose immediately from the chair beside the door where he had been keeping watch. "Wake Frank," Rudi said. "Tell him to take Ellen home when she wakes. You and I are flying to New York."

  Ellen woke to the sound of someone knocking on the door. Out of rhythm with the pounding in her head, it made her head hurt worse. She sat up, and only then realized that she was alone and she shouldn't be. At least, she'd hoped she wouldn't be. But the room was empty. No friendly noises came from the bathroom. Rudi had left her.

  "Hey, Sheffield, are you alive in there?" Frank's gravelly basso came through the door as he knocked again. "Open up, or I'm gonna get the manager to do it and make sure that bump on your head ain't put you in a coma or somethin'."

  Groaning, Ellen dragged on a T-shirt and yesterday's jeans and went to let Frank in. "Don't talk so loud," she said, padding into the bathroom to splash water on her face. "A concussion has a lot in common with a hangover."

  "You sure you're okay, Sheffield? You wanta go back to the hospital and make sure?" Frank surveyed the room, taking in the crumpled sheets, ripped from their previously neat tucking, and turned a bland face back to her. Bless him.

  "I'm fine. Where's—" She corrected herself before she could say Rudi. "Where's the prince?"

  "He and Tom took the Learjet back to New York this morning."

  "This morning?" Ellen looked up from rummaging in her suitcase. "What time is it now?"

  "After one. You slept so long, I thought somethin' was wrong." Frank hesitated before continuing. "Prince Rashid said he was going back to Qarif this afternoon."

  "I…" Ellen took a deep breath. "I see." She wrapped a clean pair of slacks around her underwear and stood up. "Did they catch the guys who blew up his car?"