Yusuf swerved the car onto a side road and suddenly they were airborne as they crashed through the scrub beside the road and into the desert along a barely discernable track.
The window between Yusuf and them wound down as Zafar pushed her onto the floor and he slid lower in seat with his phone out. His eyes held hers as he spoke rapidly into it and for some crazy reason she was too angry to be frightened.
‘Three vehicles. They will catch us.’ He nodded to Yusuf. ‘Support is coming. They will meet us at the valley pass.’ Then he turned back to her.
‘I have arranged for us to be picked up in an armoured vehicle in fifteen minutes. We wait by the rocks in the crevice. We must quickly hide ourselves. It is too late to get you away. We must return to the palace until it is safe.’ She shook her head. She didn’t understand.
‘If anything happens, and we get separated, keep quiet and unobtrusive and I will find you.’
‘Why is this happening?’
‘It is almost done but I feared this last assault. The last of the rebels have nothing left to lose. They wish to capture me but do not worry. Safeguards are in place.’
Now she was scared. ‘I’m not letting you out of my sight.’
‘Nor I you.’ He grasped her arm and eased her up beside him. ‘This is my world and when this is done it will be done.’ He dropped a swift, hard kiss on her lips. ‘Do as I command and you will be safe.’
For the moment the other vehicles were out of sight as they passed a large outcrop of rock and before she realised what was happening the car slowed. Zafar reached in front of her and pushed open the door on her side. She could see the sand rushing by.
‘Go,’ he said urgently, and pushed her so that she slid across the seat and out of the door onto the sand in an ungainly heap. He followed her and Yusuf in the car accelerated away from them in a spray of sand and dust, and suddenly the car was gone. She was in the middle of the desert, at midday, and Zafar was pulling her towards a crevice.
Zafar cursed his own stupidity as he crawled across the sand towards her. He’d known trouble was brewing but he’d thought they’d had another twenty-four hours before it escalated enough to pose a threat. And he’d dragged his woman into danger because he’d wanted to have her safe on a plane.
He froze. His woman.
It would be best when the fog that weakened him flew out from Dubai until all this was settled. His Carmen was a resourceful woman but the worry gnawed at him like a rat in the palace dungeons. All she had to do was lie low and wait to be picked up. Why did he worry she wouldn’t?
The hurt he’d seen in her eyes would pursue him. She didn’t trust him and he couldn’t blame her. He had missed her like a limb for the last seven days until the communication they had captured had outlined the revolt. And the plan of kidnapping Carmen to force Zafar’s hand had driven him back to the palace.
But the plan of shifting her to safety had backfired so now there was no time for thinking. Only surviving.
Carmen heard the growl of approaching vehicles and her heart thumped in her chest in time to the revs of the engines.
‘Go.’ Zafar’s voice was urgent behind her. Spurred into action, she crawled inelegantly across to the outcrop and there was a crevice, sand crusted and pushed a couple of feet back into the rock, just as Zafar had said, which afforded some protection from the road. When she pulled herself in, it was deeper than she’d thought and she fell several feet down into a heaped pile of sand. It was dim, and something scuttled away from her hand as she tried to steady herself. Carmen shuddered and pulled her hands in close to her chest. Zafar fell in beside her.
The roar of the approaching vehicles seemed to vibrate through her body and she blocked out the animals or reptiles she’d disturbed to worry about later as she jammed her head down into his chest and squeezed her eyes shut as if she could squeeze the whole crazy ten minutes away. This was not happening.
That thought at least brought her some sanity. And Zafar’s arms around her helped.
‘Fear’s your worst enemy.’ His voice in her ear. She’d heard those words before, the woman on the headland, a test by solitary birth that Jenny had had to go through, and she’d said that to Jenny. Well, fear was in this dark and dismal hole right alongside them both, and she wasn’t happy.
‘Who are they?’
‘Friends of Tom’s.’
The cars roared past and the sound bombarded her more than the sand that flew into their crevice and coated their hair and cheeks. Her heart thumped in her ears, staccato thumps, and then she realised it was not her heart but the sound of a battle not too far away. An explosion. Then the whoosh of heavy fire and the rattle of machine guns. Then the distinctive sound of vehicles driving off.
Now beneath her own dread was her fear of what had happened. And even a little for the annoying Yusuf. Who was attacking them and why? And just how out of her depth was she?
Zafar stood and pulled himself up. ‘Stay here. You are safe here.’
And then he was gone. The previous tenants scuttled against her hand and she shuddered. Zafar’s footsteps faded.
She shifted onto her knees and peered over the ledge. He’d told her to wait there but she’d never been good with orders. The sound of fighting over the rise had been quiet for ten minutes now and she had a bad feeling about it.
The tenant brushed past her hand again and that decided her. She was out of there. If need be, she could come back to get out of the sun but she had to know that Zafar wasn’t in danger.
It had been easier to fall into the crevice than climbing out, but with a skinned knee and three broken nails she finally crouched on the outside of the opening. She shuddered as she glanced back into the dark interior. It would take a fair incentive to get her back in there.
The hot breeze dried the perspiration on her face and she licked her lips. Sand grated against her tongue and she could smell the smoke that was rising from ahead. Thirst was an issue already but not one she could worry about just yet. Keeping low, she scurried to the next outcrop and stayed crouched as she listened. No sound from over the hill and no vehicles that she could hear.
When she made it to the top of the sandy ridge she could see the remains of the battle. She gasped when she saw Zafar’s car teetered on its side next to another burnt-out wreck of a Jeep. A collision with consequences, and then she saw Zafar edging towards the car. Yusuf!
She scanned constantly for movement as she skidded down the hill from outcrop to outcrop until she was ten yards from where Zafar crouched. He turned and looked at her; his eyes flared briefly then he sighed and shrugged. ‘Of course you came.’
The low groan made her jump and she flattened herself against the rock and twisted her head from one piece of wreckage to another. It came again, guttural, weak and definitely masculine.
They crawled across the open ground to Zafar’s car and peered through the smashed rear window. Yusuf. The man seemed trapped. Crumpled against the steering-wheel. The smell of fuel reeked. The burning Jeep smouldered too close for comfort. They slid around the chassis of the car until Zafar could stretch up and peer through the driver’s window. ‘Yusuf?’
With a struggle he opened his eyes. ‘Leave here. It is too dangerous.’ He closed his eyes and whispered, ‘It is the will of Allah.’
Typical. She was getting so sick of men giving orders. ‘Not until we get you out.’
Zafar was concentrating on the task ahead. ‘Let us see if Allah wants you out first.’
He turned to Carmen. ‘I cannot budge it alone. If we put weight on this side that teeters, maybe the whole car will fall back on its wheels.’
Away from the flaming wreck beside it. Neither mentioned that. ‘Not easy to do that without getting closer to the flames.’
As they circled the car the tyres beg
an to smoke as the building heat encouraged the fire to cross the distance between cars.
‘We need a wedge, something to give leverage. We’re running out of time.’
‘Yusuf.’ Zafar’s command snapped the man awake. ‘Reach the lever for the boot.’
‘Leave, Excellency. Take the woman.’
‘Not without you. Do it.’
She heard keys rattle and then the boot latch clicked. Zafar scooped out a large coil of rope and a tyre lever. And her suitcase, which she thought strangely thoughtful.
‘We can do this.’ He glanced around. ‘That rock. Can you tie it there?’
She estimated the length of the rope and the nearest outcrop, and Zafar took his own end of the rope and tied it quickly around the doorframe next to Yusuf.
She ran and circled it until she had tied the car to the rock with as much tension as she could. She’d always been lousy with knots but the granny would have to do. The rear tyre burst into flames and smoke grew acrid in her throat until she coughed. They weren’t going to make it.
She could feel the thunder of her pulse as the sweat ran down her face. They were going to be too late and Yusuf would burn. She’d really grown used to having him around.
‘Fear is your worst enemy,’ she muttered, and gritted her teeth as Zafar caught the rope and twisted it with the tyre lever to tighten it slowly. The rope creaked, the car creaked she watched him strain against it to shorten the rope. She ran back to him and heaved as well. Between them it finally shifted.
In the end it didn’t need much, just enough to change the centre of gravity, and when it happened she wasn’t prepared for it and the car swayed and then fell with a whoomph.
Yusuf cried out as he was bounced around like a cork in a bottle. Zafar wrenched open the door. A now unconscious Yusuf half fell out onto the road and she ran to help Zafar as the rear of the car filled with smoke. Flames began to lick along the interior roof lining as they dragged him free.
It was going to blow. She could hear the words in her head and she kept pulling, yanking, cursing this heavy lump of a man who had uselessly fainted on them, until he was partially sheltered behind a rock.
That was when she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. The outcrop that almost protected them was too small to hide behind. Zafar pulled her behind him. Would this day never end?
The low throbbing rumble distracted them just as the vehicle erupted into a fire ball and she ducked her head into Zafar’s back. A blast of heat singed the hands she held over her head and then it settled to a steady roar of heat.
The rumble became a throb from an armoured car, which slowed and then stopped beside their outcrop. Good guys, she hoped. Please let it be Zafar’s back-up.
Two young men with machine guns jumped out of the armoured truck. One ran to the front of the vehicle and the other to the back as they guarded the road. A third climbed down and approached her with obvious relief. ‘Excellency. Are you well?’
He turned a blackened face to Carmen and no doubt she looked just as much a disaster. He grinned and she realised he’d almost enjoyed himself. Men! ‘It seems so.’ He raised his singed eyebrows. ‘Carmen?’
She nodded and after one searching look at her he stood up. Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Thoroughly. ‘I must go.’
Strange thing to say. She wasn’t planning on staying either. ‘Me, too.’ A few minutes earlier for the cavalry would have been nice, she thought sourly as she peered through the smoke. Carmen sat up beside the unconscious Yusuf, bedraggled, singed and over it all.
‘Miss O’Shannessy?’
‘Yes.’
‘His Excellency said we were to transport you to the airport.’
Now? Like this? A vehicle drove off. Of course he did. ‘Yes. But what of your prince?’
‘He has already left.’ He reached down and helped her up. ‘Our orders are clear. We have matters in hand and you must catch the flight.’
He gestured to the front soldier, who’d run in a crouching position towards the rise and after a brief surveillance had returned. ‘His Excellency wishes you a safe journey.’
* * *
Carmen flew back to Australia first class from Dubai. After she’d been given fresh clothes. The strangeness of being greeted by name and with deference was both unexpected and uncomfortable. Yet all was overshadowed by the desolation she felt as the distance widened between her and the man she should hate. Even the engines seemed quieter up here, which didn’t help drown out the ache in her heart.
On arrival Coogee was filled with memories of Zafar, and everywhere she turned made her want to run. And hide. She needed to get away. Maybe one day, when it didn’t hurt any more, she would return here. She almost wished she could return to her double-shift working life so she could fall exhausted into bed and sleep, instead of gazing out the window and thinking of Zandorro.
Instead, the next week dragged by as she tidied up the loose ends of her life, paid the last of her husband’s debts, attended exit interviews, finalised the lease on her flat, applied for and accepted a job in the new birth centre in Yalara, the access town beside Ayers Rock in Central Australia.
She had to go somewhere remote, unfamiliar, safe from memories, for the next few months.
When some time had passed then she’d see where she ended up. For the moment she told herself she needed to meet her need for escape. She’d arranged for the few sentimental possessions she had left to be stored in a box at Tilly’s and she spent the last night here before she flew out.
Donna, the concierge, had arranged with Tilly a farewell morning tea at the baby hotel with a few friends from both workplaces. It was the last thing Carmen wanted but she smiled and nodded her way through the morning until her head ached as she waited for the time she could pick up her bags from her room and head for the airport.
When she could finally escape towards her suite, compliments of the management and ironically on the seventh floor, her head throbbed with memories of another time as the lift doors opened. At least the lift hadn’t jammed.
Her room lay only a few doors down from so many memories and the corridor seemed strangely empty without a man standing guard outside the tiled entrance to the presidential suite.
Carmen’s door lock clicked behind her and she crossed the room to drag open the heavy sliding door to let the stiff breeze from the ocean beat against her. The wind was up and she staggered a little as it whipped the curtain from beside her and flapped it against her head. The sting of salt lifted her face and she asked herself again why on earth she’d chosen the furthest place in Australia from any beach for her new job. But she knew why. She hated the weakness she hadn’t realised she would be a party to. Her hands gripped the cold metal as if to soak in as much of the sea as she could before she left.
* * *
Zafar let out his breath. She was here. She hadn’t left. He’d been to her flat, peered through the windows into the empty room until he’d driven to the hotel to hear she had resigned.
He’d managed to wrangle her room number from the staff, but not access. He’d also known she was checking out today.
He’d seen her downstairs, but talking to her there was impossible. How could he get privite time with her.
‘If you take a room on the same floor, you’re almost neighbors,’ the receptionist had purred, giving way to his charm. ‘And you can see each other on the balcony.’
It made sense. He’d known she couldn’t leave without her baggage; couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to the sea.
So here he was, and here she was.
‘I’d prefer you to move back a little. I’ve had bad experiences with heights.’
She didn’t turn her head but he knew she’d heard him. Felt her stillness. Prayed she would forgive him
for taking so long to claim her. But he’d needed to finish it. Once they’d threatened Carmen he hadn’t been able to rest until it was done. For the future, they would face it together, but for the past he had needed to finish alone.
Carmen felt his presence. Memories fluttered around her like butterflies in the sunlight. His eyes on hers, his wicked mouth curved and coming closer, his angled cheeks beneath her hand. She could see it all without turning her head. So he’d come back to haunt her.
She turned to see Zafar leaning uncomfortably around the privacy screen two rooms up. If he hated heights…‘Then why are you out here?’
He moved back a little to safety now that he had her attention. ‘I need to see you. You won’t answer the phone in your room.’
‘I haven’t been in the room. What do you want, Zafar?’
One word. ‘You.’ One command.
‘Still giving orders? Another quick romp?’ She had to finish this. ‘Go away.’
He crossed his arms. ‘Not until I have had the chance to explain.’
Of course he wouldn’t go away. ‘No.’
‘The flight was long.’
Tough. ‘I’m sure there were other business affairs of state you need to do here.’
He’d had enough. ‘Your room or mine?’
Impossible man. She needed to get this right. ‘Give me a moment to think.’ She turned and stared at him and his smile glinted.
‘As you wish.’
See, that was the problem. She ducked into her room again. She had to bite back a smile. It had to be his room. Hers was so much smaller and he would be too close no matter where he stood. When the phone rang, still she hesitated. Was she agreeing to more disillusion or should she just get it over with? She let it ring again. But he would come if she didn’t, she knew that, and she hated being a coward.
She picked it up, said, ‘I’ll come, but must leave for my flight in twenty minutes,’ and put it down again.
It seemed strange to know he was there and no guard stood outside in the corridor. Zafar opened the door himself and stood back to allow her to enter.
Falling for the Sheikh She Shouldn't Page 14
