Over his shoulder, Diyari yelled for Taj. Almost immediately, Taj appeared at his side. “Take this traitor into custody.” But Taj didn’t move, just stared at his brother. “Now!” Diyari screamed. “He’s part of the group planning our father’s demise.”
“And you know this how?” Taj moved closer to Mustafa. Placing his hands behind his back, Taj handcuffed him.
“Candace. She warned me in the desert, and he just admitted as much to me.”
“Where is she now?”
“Mustafa let her go into the desert by herself. She must have gotten some sort of tip about dad.”
“So why are you standing here? Go after her. I’ve got this.”
Diyari turned and rushed over to where he’d hung his rifle. Grabbing it, he slung it over his shoulder. Loading a magazine into his Glock, he shoved the gun into his shoulder holster as he rushed toward the entrance.
But Mustafa wasn’t finished spewing his venom.
“You’re acting crazy. Over a woman. You shame this country.” Mustafa spat at his feet.
Diyari pivoted on his heels and came at Mustafa with all the power of a man on the edge. “You’re talking to the royal prince of B’Quara, you piece of shit! Show some respect.” Diyari reared back and punched Mustafa in the nose, glorifying in the feel of his bones shattering under his knuckles.
Mustafa dropped to his knees. A caution from Taj sounded in his ear but his fury pushed him on.
Diyari raised the butt of his rifle and threatened to smash the stock into Mustafa’s face, but halted a mere second before making contact. “If anything’s happened to her? I’ll kill you with my bare hands.” He pointed a finger into Mustafa’s face, flicking his swollen nose. “And that’s a royal promise.”
Outside, he mounted his horse and jammed his rifle into its scabbard, taking some of his frustration out on the leather. Placing his Ray-bans on the crook of his nose, he spun his stallion toward the open desert. He galloped out of the camp, using his knees against the horse’s flank, pushing to maxim speed. He had to hurry. The sun was setting. It would be dark within the hour. The desert was not a place for a woman alone, even if she was a CIA agent. Hell, at night, it wasn’t a place for a man alone either. All sorts of animals preyed on vulnerable victims. And she was vulnerable. Her wound had barely healed. What if the strain of driving over the steep dunes re-opened that wound? Animals sensed weaknesses. The scent of blood carried for miles. If she ran out of gas . . . they could follow her until she was too weak to put up much of a fight, a multitude of horrible scenarios filtered into his mind.
He pushed his stallion harder. The fight they had at the hospital, him lying about not wanting her, played over and over in his mind. He couldn’t continue to use that pretense any longer. The last couple of days had been pure hell. Every time he crossed her path, she turned and went the other way, even when he called out her name. She refused to acknowledge him. It killed him. But he couldn’t blame her. He was the one who callously told her to heal up and get the hell out of his life. Moron. He loved her. She was a stubborn woman. His woman. His love. He couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her. He stood in the stirrups, his head swerving from left to right, searching, his eyes scanning the massive dunes in front of him. The only movement, a lone hawk circling in the sky. Damn it! Where was she? No tire tracks, nothing. He glanced toward heaven as he whispered a prayer for all the heavenly beings to assist him.
The sand began to shift as the wind picked up. Soon, any chance of findings her tracks would disappear. What had set her off? She must have received some sort of detrimental information. But what? Something about the plot against his father? These questions continued to plague him as he pushed on. He pulled the ends of his keffiyeh more securely across his face, leaving only his eyes exposed to the elements. He paused, pulling out his compass to get his bearings. Finally, when he crested the next dune, he spied her vanishing tire tracks all but invisible in the fading light. Panic surged within him, but he slammed the door on that useless sensation. He would find her. If he searched until his last breath, he’d find her. And it was a race against time—darkness would make his quest impossible. Plus, the alarming fact that she was injured pushed him on. Why? Kept hammering at his brain. And then it hit him with the force of a hurricane. He’d told her he didn’t want her. Stupid ass. That’s why she failed to confide in him. She didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to ask for his help. Oh god, he’d screwed this up . . . royally. He’d thought he could shove her aside and go on with his life. Ha! What a fool. He’d never let her go. Not after this. Not after his heart lunged into his throat and stayed there the entire time he searched for her.
He caught a glimpse of movement up ahead. Squinting, he labored to make out the shape in the shrinking light. He smiled for the first time in days. His black Land Rover inched its way up the steep side of a dune. Thank God. He pushed his horse harder, anxious now to be with her, to shake some sense into her, and hear her justification for taking off into the desert alone. He’d listen to her explanation, oh how he’d listen, then, he was going to throttle her within an inch of her life. But first, he’d make sure she was safe.
Fear, thick and viscous, roped around his insides. He’d never had so much trouble with a woman.
Her head peeked out the driver side window and caught a glimpse of him riding full tilt up behind her. She realized all the fury of hell was about to sweep down on her. He groaned out loud when she sped up, rolling his eyes. For God’s sake, did she honestly think she could out run him? Get away from him? Again?
He stood in the stirrups as he came alongside the car, motioning for her to stop. For a brief moment, he thought she actually considered ignoring him. She applied more speed, hoping to outrun him. He kicked the stallion. Forcing his horse in front of the car, she had no alternative but to stop. Immediately he swung his leg over the side and dismounted. Pulling at his riding gloves, he approached the driver side of the car. “Of all the crazy stunts, what in the hell do you think you’re during out here all alone?” She opened the driver’s door, exited, and slammed the door, placing her hands on her hips. When they were side by side, she swung her fist at him, connecting with his jaw. Ouch! What the hell? He was trying to save her butt. Why was she bashing him in the jaw? Then just as he opened his mouth to question her moves . . . she busted him in the nose. “Damn it, Candace, stop!” he yelled. Was she insane? That hurt. “What the hell is the matter with you?” he shouted above the wind.
She pulled back her fist to hit him again but this time he was ready for her and cupped her fist within his palm. “You have to let me go. I’ve got a bead on the American leading the National Resistance Group, and I’m heading out to gather intel.”
He bit his tongue, hard, as fury roared through him like a meteor streaking across the sky. “By yourself. Are you mental? You forget where you are. The desert is no place for an individual to wander around alone.”
Candace kicked at the sand, her eyes never leaving his. “Well, after your little speech in the hospital, what was I supposed to do, get on my knees and beg your royal pain in the ass to help? I don’t think so. I pronounced my love for you, and you kicked me in the teeth.”
He stepped closer, so close her blowing hair swirled into his face. “And you think this is easier for me? I want you. I can’t have you. Try standing in my shoes for a moment.” His breath hissed through his teeth. “I’m in hell here.”
He leaned against the car, his black robes blowing out with the rushing wind. Crossing one ankle over the other, he pinched the skin between his eyes. He’d caused all this heartache. Him and his duty and rules. He’d made her run into the desert without asking for back up, facing almost certain death. Apparently, she preferred death to him.
Walking behind the car, he tied the reins of his horse to the bumper. “Get in. We need to talk.”
“I’m done talking! I’m hea
ding out to gain intel.”
“Not at this hour you’re not. Tomorrow we’ll go after this information together and see what we can uncover.” He grabbed her by the elbow and shuffled her to the passenger’s door. Opening it, he all but shoved her inside, using one hand to cover his aching nose as a drop of blood fell on his hand. Damn, that hurt.
Letting out a growl of frustration, Candace pulled the door shut.
Turning the car around, he headed toward his desert fortress. They’d be there within the hour, and its obscurity guaranteed their privacy. Khalid and some of the Black Scorpions would be there for protection. They needed water and gasoline. Turning to look at Candace, his head was jerked back. Bam!
She punched him again. Damn it, that hurt!
“Look, before you beat me to death, can we talk this out?”
She refused to answer. Staring straight ahead, she ignored him. He’d had just about enough. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him as he drove. “I’m talking to you.”
She bit his hand. Her teeth chopping down on the tender tissue between his thumb and finger. He saw stars as the pain registered. Releasing her instantly, he shook the pain out of his hand. Fine, she could have it her way.
They continued on in strained silence.
What did she hope to gain with this silent treatment? Right now, as pissed off as he was, she could just sit over there and sulk. He’d had enough of being bitten and punched. Then, he heard her sniffle. Ah, hell! Was she crying? If there was anything he couldn’t compete against, it was tears. He reached inside his robe, searching and locating a handkerchief. He held it out in front of her for her to take. She broke into a silent shoulder-shaking sob. His heart shattered into a million pieces. “Candace?” he gently prompted.
She held up her hand for him to remain quiet. Again, they rode on in silence. Well, silence except for him muttering every curse word he’d ever learned, both in English and Arabic.
~ ~ ~
As they crested the next dune, Candace’s eyes widened as the clouds parted and his fortress, his term not hers, came into view. Had she’d been zapped back a couple of centuries? She stared in awe at the twenty-foot stone walls surrounding the entire compound, appearing eerily black under the silver light of the full moon. Entering this compound would truly make her his captive. A sudden gust of fear spurted through her. Even Dracula would think twice before moving into this place. Campfires outside the main wall flickered like the fires of Hades against the night sky, their orange, red, and yellow flames dancing with the wind’s current spitting sparks into the darkness. Lightning split the sky and thunder boomed, rattling the windows of the car as a storm brewed.
“We’ll be in the middle of a horrific sand storm tonight.” His probing gaze dragged over her, generating a rush of hunger so consuming, she quivered from its intensity. She turned her head away from his intuitive gaze, blowing out a puff of breath through her bangs.
Shifting nervously in her seat, she pulled her cell from her pocket and checked for a signal. No such luck. She was literally at his mercy. Did she think he would hurt her? No, of course not. He was too regal and gentlemanly to do anything disrespectful. Physically that is. But he could and had crushed her heart, again, with his heartfelt declarations of loving her but not being able to marry her. That alone gave him a mastery over her so formidable, she shook from head to toe. Had he been upfront about his inability to marry her? Yes, he had, from the very beginning. Did that make it hurt any less? Not in this world.
Moving forward, they slowed as a man approached the driver’s side. Wearing desert robes, he stuck his head into the interior of the car. She recognized him immediately as Diyari’s younger brother.
“Hey, Khalid, anything to report?”
A smile broke across the man’s face. “Taj called and said you were on your way. Dad is heading back to Caythi tonight, and he’d wanted you to accompany him. He was going to send a helicopter to pick you up, but this fast-moving sand storm axed that option.”
Without waiting for Diyari’s answer, the beam from Khalid’s flashlight illuminated the car’s interior. “What the hell happened to your face?”
“I walked into a door,” Diyari simply stated.
“Yeah, you have to watch out for those doors in the desert.” Chuckling, Khalid continued, “It looks like it hurts like hell. You need to get some ice on that.”
A smile lifted the corners of Diyari’s lips. “I’m so glad you’re amused.”
Diyari rubbed his eyes before dropping his hands to the steering wheel, his frustration palpable. “I really needed to go with Dad, but something came up.”
That something being her. Guilt weighed heavy on her. Diyari had missed his responsibilities to his kingdom and his father.
Driving forward, the massive wooden gates creaked open. She gasped with surprise as they entered a man-made desert oasis. The courtyard, lined with soft colored lights and palm trees, exposed an area dominated by an Olympic size pool and hot tub. Her first impression—his fortress reminded her of an exquisite Italian estate. The mansion was two storied, with a circular drive leading to an entrance with ascending stairs in the shape of an upside-down U. In the dark light, she squinted to see the Paprika-colored Italian tiles covering the tiered roof, accentuating the sand-colored stone. Diyari drove to the edge of the staircase and parked. The wind picked up as they exited the car, filling the air with the refreshing scent of lemons and limes. Turning her head, she located the rows of fruit trees over her shoulder. Retrieving her luggage from the trunk, Diyari gestured for her to follow him. In the stillness of the night, silence stretched between them. Diyari showed her to her room.
After settling in, she stripped off her clothes, shimmied into her bikini, and headed to the pool. The bulk of the storm hadn’t hit yet. Her body craved exertion to extract him from her system after sitting next to him in the small suffocating space of his car. If she didn’t work out, burn off all this pent-up frustration, she’d never sleep tonight. Over the past three weeks, his appearance had changed. Along with the super-sexy dark stubble covering his chin, he now sported a mustache and a goatee. As if the man could be any more handsome. Rugged, sensual, the slight beard enhanced his Middle Eastern heritage, accentuating his erotic allure. She sucked in a huge breath. She was in an impossible situation.
Heading to the pool she arched her body and dove into the translucent water, the chilled liquid spilling a rush of clarity through her. As she surfaced she let out a huge sigh. Yes, this was exactly what she needed. A blistering workout. Keeping her head down, she pumped through lap after lap, picking up speed, forcing him out of her mind. Hand over head, pull, drag through the water, repeat, punishing her body, erasing the sensual the image of Diyari upstairs, asleep. If circumstances were different, she could be enjoying his bed with him, tangled together in the heat of the sheets they’d burned up. Oh God! Harder and faster she moved, sucking in bits of air to propel her as she envisioned him naked beneath silken covers. What was she going to do? She couldn’t stay out here all night, swimming like some deranged otter. Not with the mounting storm moving in. Not with her mind whirling with what could have been. What they’d never have.
Thirty minutes later, she had exhausted herself, her strokes becoming labored and uneven. As she headed for the stairs at the shallow end, Diyari stood there, waiting for her to emerge. The dancing light bouncing off the movement of the water cast him in a blue light, shadowing his features, chiseling them into a hardened mask. He’d changed out of his desert robes. The image of him in jeans with the unmistakable imprint of his raging erection outlined against his fly made her falter. His sage-colored silk button down shirt with his cuffs rolled back against his forearms hugged and accentuated the well-defined muscles of his upper body. stooping down, he picked up an over-sized towel and spread it out for her to walk into. Slowing to a breast stroke, she g
ave her body time to adapt to the impact of his nearness.
Nobody had that amount of time. Nobody. As she neared, his eyes remained riveted on her. His lips were set in a staunch line, his body tense, and the strain between them as thick as a coconut’s shell. Along the sharp angle of his jaw, a muscle ticked out of control. The raw male sight upped the ante, creating a new and savage level of excitement. Damn it! Why did he have to be so off-the-charts gorgeous? Why? She inched closer to him.
His glittering eyes raked her as she emerged from the water, taking in her skin-hugging bikini, which felt like it had suddenly shrunken to very tiny and way too revealing. The spark of lust she witnessed within his eyes gave her pause. She glanced around the pool area. Lounge chairs and umbrella tables dotted the flagstone terrace. Palm trees, their fronds swinging fiercely swished loudly in the gathering storm’s wind. She couldn’t stay in the pool all night. No, she swallowed her nervousness, it was time to face him.
In measured strides, she ascended the steps, her hands straining the water from her hair. He stepped forward, enclosing her within the welcoming folds of the heated towel. The plush material wrapped her in a warm cocoon. Immediately, he eased back, creating an insurmountable mountain of distance between them. Goosebumps covered her as the cool desert night air rushed over her damp body, but it was the sight of the man and his over-powering testosterone that caused her to shiver.
“I want to know why you didn’t ask for my help,” he blurted out.
She dried her body with the towel, his gaze following every movement. Geez, he made her crazy.
Patiently, he waited for her answer.
“I . . . I . . . got a flash of intel, and I wanted to follow it up.”
“That’s a bullshit line, and you know it.” He crossed his arms over his chest and drew in a staggered breath. “Now, the truth.”
For the Sheik's Pleasure (Sheiks in Love Book 2) Page 22
