Sheikh's Royal Baby Revelation

Tori sucked in oxygen and tried to steady her breathing. In the gloom she met his eyes. It was too dark to be sure but she’d swear she read sympathy in his face. And something else. Pity?

Because the fate of a woman abducted by violent men would be truly pitiful.

Tori stiffened her knees against the images she’d tried so hard not to picture. She couldn’t afford to crack up now.

‘Of course I checked.’ She made herself concentrate on the conversation, not her fear. ‘I thought if I could pry it loose I might use it as a weapon when they came back.’

‘One against three?’

Despite their desperate situation, Tori felt a throb of satisfaction at surprising him. ‘I won’t go down without a fight.’

‘It would be safer if you don’t resist.’

Tori opened her mouth to protest but he went on.

‘Three to one aren’t good odds. Wait till you’re alone with one of them. Someone will probably transport you elsewhere tomorrow.’

‘How do you know? What did they say about me?’ Her voice was harsh with fear.

He shook his head, then winced. The soft whisper that followed might have been in a language she didn’t know, but she knew a curse when she heard one.

‘I didn’t hear them mention you,’ he said finally. ‘But their leader arrives tomorrow. They’re expecting payment for their efforts then. They’ll leave us be until he arrives.’

Tori sagged, her knees giving way suddenly. She stumbled to the wall, propping herself against it. For hours she’d been on tenterhooks, expecting at any moment—

‘Are you okay?’ He moved closer before stopping, as if recalling her earlier recoil.

She nodded. When she opened her mouth to reply a jagged, out-of-control laugh escaped. She clapped a hand to her lips, hating the hot tears behind her eyes and the sensation that she was on the verge of collapse.

It was ridiculous to feel relief, hearing she was safe for tonight. She was still in terrible danger. Even so, her exhausted body reacted to the news by slumping abruptly.

Firm hands caught her upper arms as she sank, taking her weight and easing her descent to the floor.

His hands were big and hard, yet surprisingly gentle. Tori heard the clank of metal as he withdrew, hunkering before her.

‘Sorry.’ The word wobbled and she tried again. ‘I just...’ She looked up into dark eyes. ‘What else did they say? What are they going to do with us?’

Did she imagine that his expression turned blank? In this light it was impossible to tell.

‘Nothing about you.’ He paused, then continued slowly. ‘I have no proof, but I suspect they’ll take you over the border.’

Like a smuggled commodity? Tori bit her bottom lip. She’d heard stories of the illegal slave trade, particularly in women. Nausea rose as she contemplated where she might end up.

‘If that’s so there might be a chance to escape. Maybe some of them will stay here.’ Tori knew she was grasping at straws but it was better than giving up hope.

‘I can guarantee it.’ His tone grabbed her attention.

‘Why? What else did you hear?’

He shrugged those wide shoulders and sank cross-legged before her. Despite the heavy chain and his injuries he looked at ease. Strange how his air of confidence reassured her.

‘Their leader is my enemy. I think it fair to assume he’ll be more focused on me than you.’ There was a note in that deep voice that sounded almost like wry humour. Grim lines bracketed his mouth.

Suddenly Tori remembered the gesture one of their captors had made as he’d chained this man to the wall. One man had asked a question and another had laughed, a sound that had sent a chill skittering down her backbone. He’d said something sharp and dragged his finger across his throat in a gesture that crossed all languages. Death.

They were going to kill this man.

She should warn him.

Except even as she thought it she realised he knew. Tori read it in that stern face, a chiaroscuro masterpiece of male strength, and knew he wouldn’t surrender to fate. Not with that pugnacious set to his jaw.

Instinctively she reached out, her hand fleetingly touching his, feeling living warmth flow into her chilled fingers. ‘What can we do?’

For long seconds he surveyed her. Then gave another infinitesimal shrug. ‘Check for a way out.’

‘I’ve done that. It’s all I’ve done for the last five hours or so.’ That and try not to panic.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a hairpin?’

‘For picking the lock on your handcuff?’ Tori shook her head. ‘I don’t need hairpins with a ponytail.’

He watched the swish of her hair around her shoulders and something unexpected zipped through her. Something other than fear and despair.

Tori stilled.

‘And I unfortunately didn’t think to bring bolt cutters for the chain.’

She choked down a laugh. It was only mildly amusing, but in her emotional state any humour was a welcome break from constant fear.

‘The windows are too small even for you.’ He paused. ‘The roof?’

He rose in a single fluid motion that revealed enviable core strength and left Tori gawping. A short time ago he’d been unconscious.

‘Come.’ He extended his hand.

She didn’t know if it was the command in his tone or not, but a second later her hand was in his and he was drawing her up. They stood so close that she identified the tang of cinnamon and male, and the comforting smell of horse, before he stepped away, surveying the roof.

‘Here.’ He turned and beckoned.

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘Hands on my shoulders. I’ll lift you so you can check for a way out.’

‘But you can’t get out.’ Her gaze dropped to the manacle on his wrist.

‘That’s no reason for you not to try.’

That voice, as smooth and rich as her favourite coffee, warmed her as his gaze captured hers. Tori’s racing thoughts stilled. She felt a moment of communion, as if this stranger understood the guilt that made her protest even as the idea of escape made her thrill with excitement.