Girl in the Bedouin Tent

‘You’re a teacher?’ He tried not to let his surprise show. Obviously these weren’t her normal clothes. Look at the way she’d just covered up. Yet still he found it difficult, imagining her in a classroom.

‘It’s not my field back home in Australia, but they were eager for volunteers and it sounded … fulfilling.’

This woman grew more interesting by the moment. He could picture her at home in a bustling, lively city. She was so full of energy and opinions. Teaching in a provincial school was the last place he’d imagine her. ‘How did you get here?’

One neat hand clutched the coarse fabric of her cloak and her jaw hardened.

‘The bus broke down in the foothills near the border. Apparently it was a major mechanical problem, something that couldn’t be fixed quickly. All the passengers headed off across country to their own homes. There was just me and the driver left, and then.’ She shrugged, a jerky little movement that belied her show of casualness. ‘Then we heard a sound like thunder.’

She flashed a look at him. Behind the defiance he detected a shadow that might have been fear.

Instinctively Amir leaned towards her, only to straighten abruptly when she recoiled.

It wasn’t a reaction to which he was accustomed.

‘Horsemen came galloping down from the mountains. They grabbed me.’ Her voice flattened to an emotionless pitch that anyone less observant might mistake for insouciance. ‘I lost sight of the driver in all the dust and milling horses.’ She paused. ‘He’d been kind to me. I … don’t know what happened to him.’

‘You needn’t fear for him. A report of the raid came through as I travelled here. The driver is recovering from concussion in hospital.’

Anger ignited in Amir’s belly. For Mustafa to have led a violent raid and the abduction of a foreign national inside Tarakhan’s borders the day before Amir’s visit was little short of a direct insult.

Yet it wasn’t Mustafa’s arrogance that rankled. It was what had been done to this remarkable woman. Terrified, abducted and abused, she still managed to hold her own, challenging him and giving no ground even when it was patently clear she was dependent on his goodwill.

Was it her vulnerability or her courage that sliced straight through the diffidence he wore like a second skin?

Long dormant emotions stirred uneasily.

It was understandable he’d feel pity. Yet when had he truly cared on a personal level about anyone? Cared for anything but work or his own pleasure?

His lips twisted. He hadn’t.

Amir was self-sufficient and glad of it. He’d never experienced love, even as a child. Nor had friendship been permitted with the other boys who, with him, had learned the ways of a Tarakhan warrior under his uncle’s stern eye.

With the ease of long practice Amir turned his mind to more important matters.

Tonight he’d been the polite guest, playing the game of diplomacy and courtesy to the hilt. He’d allowed Mustafa to bask in the honour of hosting a man far more powerful than he could ever hope to be. Tomorrow his host would find a change in his revered guest.

Mustafa might live in a chaotic nation where the rule of law barely existed, but he’d soon discover the Sheikh of Tarakhar was no pushover. Earlier Amir had been impatient at the need for slow negotiations when an all-important personal arrangement required his attention at home. Now he looked forward to making Mustafa squirm.

‘The driver’s really OK?’

Amir saw concern on her pale features and felt a stab of admiration. Despite her own situation she was worried for the driver.

‘He’ll be fine. He was knocked unconscious, which would be why he didn’t raise the alarm about your kidnap.’

A tide of impatience rose that he was sitting talking when every nerve screamed for action. Amir was about to surge to his feet when her expression caught his notice.

She pretended strength and insouciance, yet her posture was a little too perfect. Instead of lounging on the comfortable cushions she sat erect, as if ready for anything, even sudden attack. She’d flinched earlier at his exclamations of outrage. Obviously she still didn’t trust him. How could she?

Amir subsided onto the banked cushions.

‘You’ve been with Mustafa’s men since the abduction?’

She nodded slowly, and he couldn’t help but read significance into the fact that this time she didn’t elaborate. He’d already learned she wasn’t afraid to express her opinion.

What had they done to her?

His stomach clenched at the possibilities.

Cassie watched him pour juice into a chased goblet that looked as if it dated from the time of the crusades. Who knew? Perhaps it did.

His hand, the colour of dark honey, looked strong and capable as he held it out to her.

‘Thank you.’ She reached to take it from him, careful only to touch the cool metal. She remembered the heat of his skin on hers, the curious sensation when he touched her, and knew better than to risk further contact.

He was too disturbing, even now when he sat with easy composure, drawing out her story, each movement measured and non-threatening. She couldn’t forget her sense of peril as she’d stared into fathomless dark eyes and that grim slash of a mouth.

What disturbed her most was the conviction the danger lay not only in his physical strength, his ability to subdue her bodily. It lay in that indefinable aura that tugged at her consciousness. The way her senses, though battered by kidnap and confinement, stirred when he gave that rueful half smile. When he apologised for being distracted, fighting for his life. When his eyes met hers and something unnamed sizzled through the air.

That didn’t stop her covertly noticing the slight shadow along his jaw that made him look like a sexy bandit, and the way his full lower lip and mobile mouth turned severe features into something far too appealing.

Cassie blinked, shocked. Her mind was wandering. She clasped her hands tight and leaned closer.

‘Now you know I’m here against my will, you’ll be able to get me away from here.’ Even outside his realm surely he’d be able to help her.

The silence lengthened. Her confident smile grew ragged.

The hastily stitched fabric of her defences began to unravel. Each second that ticked past shredded her nerves. The thud of her heart, so fast she felt dizzy with it, almost deafened her. He must help!

He couldn’t ignore what had happened to her. Finally he spoke. ‘Unfortunately it’s not that simple.’

‘Not simple?’ Her stunned voice echoed hoarsely. She felt betrayed. She’d counted on his assistance.

‘I’m afraid not. You need to be patient.’

Stiffening her spine, Cassie stared at the man sitting so imperturbably. Shadows from the lamps cast elongated shadows across the strong lines of his face, accentuating the way his hooded eyelids veiled his expression.

Didn’t he understand her desperation?

Unless he’d decided it was in his own interests not to help her.

Had she been gulled into a false sense of security by his calm questions and his mellow tone?

Breathing slowly, trying not to hyperventilate, Cassie told herself the Sheikh of Tarakhar couldn’t be interested in her. She had none of the sultry allure or seductive experience she imagined his lovers possessed. Despite the stark austerity of his clothes, he looked like a man who’d only settle for the best.

If it came to sexual skills, Cassie wasn’t in the running.

But then experience wasn’t always required. She knew that from bitter experience.