Captive Bride (15 page)

Christina slowed Raven and turned to see Ahmad raising his rifle. But before he had time to pull the trigger, a shot rang through the air, and Christina felt sick as Ahmad fell slowly from his horse, blood oozing from his chest.

"Oh, God—no!" she screamed, but Ahmad lay motionless on the hot sand.

Immediately Christina turned Raven and whipped him into a gallop. She wanted to go to Ahmad, but she had to think of herself now. She could hear her pursuers closing in behind her. An arm went around her waist, yanked her from her horse, and threw her across another one. She struggled fiercely and was rewarded when she fell off backward onto the hard sand.

The man who had grabbed her got off his horse and slowly approached Christina. He had an angry, ferocious look on his bearded face.

Christina's heart beat painfully as she scrambled to her feet and started to run, but before she had got ten feet away, the man had swung her around and slapped her brutally across her face, knocking her down. He lifted her up halfway by the front of her robe and hit her two more times, then dropped her as if she were dirt. She was crying hysterically as she turned over on the sand so he couldn't hit her any more.

Vaguely, Christina could hear voices quarreling, but they sounded so far away. She felt dazed, and for a moment she didn't even know where she was or why she was crying. It all came back to her painfully when she cautiously raised her head and saw Ahmad's lifeless body lying some distance away from her.

Oh, God, why did they have to kill him? she thought miserably. A few yards away from her three of the men still sat on horseback, one of them talking harshly to the man who had beaten her.

Amair Abdalla dismounted and walked over to the woman lying on the sand. He felt pity when he turned her over and saw her face, already discolored and swelling. He had been told this woman was a beauty, but now her face was dirty from the sand, with clear streaks running down her cheeks from her tears.

That bastard Cassim! It had happened so fast that Amair had been unable to stop him. They were in a hurry, or he would punish the beast now. Cassim had always been a cruel man. His wife had nearly died twice from his cruelty and beatings.

Sheik Ali Hejaz would not take kindly to the beating of this woman. Christina Wakefield was important to Sheik Ah" in more ways than one, and he had given strict orders that she was not to be harmed.

Cassim would be taken care of when they returned to camp—and he knew it. But now they must hurry. The plan did not call for a confrontation on Sheik Abu's home ground, and Amair didn't want to have a run-in with the big man. It would mean sure death.

Moments had passed since the young man had turned Christina over. He had been staring at her face, and she could see the pity in his brown eyes. What was going to happen now? Perhaps they wouldn't hurt her any more— not now, anyway. Christina instinctively cringed away from the man when he bent down to pick her up. He carried her to the horses, put her on his small Arabian, and got on behind her. The other three men were mounted and waiting, and they all rode off at a gallop.

Christina closed her eyes when they passed Ahmad's body. Poor Ahmad. He was only a little older than she, and now his life was finished. The four men left Raven and Ahmad's horse behind. If they were thieves, why didn't they take the horses, too?

Who were they? They couldn't have known she was a woman, not the way she was dressed, so why hadn't they shot her also? The men couldn't be here to rescue her, for nobody had known she was here. Besides, if they meant to take her back to her brother, they wouldn't beat her. It just didn't make any sense.

These men must be from the neighboring tribe that Philip had warned her about. Would they all use her, then sell her into slavery? Philip would never be able to find her!

Philip, where are you? You've got to find me! But what could she be thinking! Hadn't she wanted to leave Philip?

At least my new master will never have the power to make me weak with his touch the way Philip does. No other man will be able to arouse my desire like Philip. Suddenly she realized what she'd just said in her thoughts.

I love him! I loved him all this time and didn't even know it! Christina, you're a fool, a stupid little fool. You fought Philip all these months and prayed to be sent home, when all the time you loved him. You may never see him again, and Philip still thinks you hate him.

But what if he doesn't come? What if he's glad I'm gone and off his hands? Can I blame him after the way I've acted toward him? Oh, no, he's gofto come for me, he's got to save me so I can tell him how much I love him. And he's got to find me soon, before it's too late!

When Yasir died and I wanted to comfort Philip, I should have known then that I loved him. It has taken a nightmare to make me see the truth, and now it may be too late. Oh, God, give me another chance!

It was getting dark now, and they were still riding hard, as if the devil himself were chasing them. Again it didn't make any sense. If these four men were from the neighboring tribe Philip had talked about, they should have gone into the mountains and reached their camp already.

She must be wrong. They had been riding along the base of the mountains, but now, as the moon came out to light the way, they tamed and headed into the desert. Where were they taking her? And what would happen to her when they got there?

Christina remembered the long-ago time when she had asked herself these same questions, only Philip had been her abductor then. She really had hated him those first weeks after he brought her to his camp. He had taken her away from all she loved. He had manipulated everyone to bring her to this land. But every young woman leaves behind all that she knows when she marries. It takes time to become accustomed to a new life.

Well, she had become accustomed—too accustomed, in fact. And she felt a fear and emptiness in her heart that she would never see Philip again. It was worse than the pain that she felt in her swollen face with each step of the horse. She closed her eyes to shut out all the misery she felt, and, somehow, fell asleep.

The sound of loud voices brought Christina's eyes open. She was lifted down from the horse. She wondered what had happened until she saw all the new faces about her and felt the soreness in her face. The sun was up and the heat was torrid, bouncing off the sand, forcing her to shade her eyes from the glare in order to see.

Before Christina was taken into a small tent, she glanced about the encampment. They were at a desert oasis. Two huge palm trees towered over six small tents, and she could see goats, sheep, and camels grazing on a stretch of grass behind them.

Inside the tent, it took Christina a moment to become accustomed to the darkness. She saw an old man sitting alone on a pillow behind a low table covered with bowls of food.

The old man hadn't even glanced in her direction yet. He was still eating his meal, so Christina looked about the tent. A few pillows were scattered about, and she saw a large chest in one corner, but there were no chairs to sit on or rugs to cover the sand.

When Christina looked back at the old man, he was dipping his fingers into a small bowl of water, as she had done many times after finishing a meal with Philip. He looked up at her then, and his brown eyes widened in anger at the sight of her bruised face. She jumped when his fist slammed down on the table, making all the bowls clatter.

He was dressed in a colorful robe and kufiyah, and she noticed that his feet were bare beneath the table. When he stood up, he appeared to be no taller than herself, but when he spoke, he commanded authority.

He spoke harshly to the young man with Christina, and she surmised he must be the sheik of this tribe. Heated words passed between them that Christina couldn't under-stai)d, and then the young man led her behind a curtain in the corner of the tent.

The small space was barely big enough for her to lie down. There was a sheepskin on the sand, and Christina was deposited there, then left alone.

A few minutes later, an old woman opened the curtains and brought in a tray with a large bowl of food and a glass of wine. The woman set the tray down on the sand, handed Christina a wet towel, pointing to her face, and left Christina alone again.

She washed her face with the towel, but couldn't remove all of the dirt around her painfully swollen eyes. The food was greasy, but was luckily soft, for it also hurt her to chew. The wine tasted wonderful, but she felt strangely tired after she finished drinking it. Christina fought to stay awake so she could be prepared for what would happen next, but she couldn't manage to keep her eyes open or think coherently, and presently she fell into a sound sleep.

When Amair Abdalla left the woman in Sheik AH Hejaz's tent, he stopped long enough to tell Cassim that Sheik Ali wished to see him, then he went directly to his father's tent. He did not feel sorry for Cassim, for whatever befell him was of his own doing. Sheik Ali was angrier than Amair had expected, and Cassim would probably die for his deed.

"Amair, did everything go well?" his father, Cogia Abdalla, asked when Amair walked into the tent that they shared.

"Yes, father, all went as planned," Amair replied distastefully. He sat down on the sheepskin that was his bed, and grabbed the goatskin of wine beside it. "But I will tell you this—I do not care for what I was ordered to do. That woman has done nothing, and she should not be made the pawn for revenge. Already she has suffered, for Cassim beat her before I could stop him."

"What! That no-good—"

"Don't you see, father?" Amair cut in. "None of this should have happened in the first place. Cassim shot the man Christina Wakefield was riding with. I pray that he is found before he dies, for he is Ahmad, the brother of Amine's husband. If Ahmad dies, then Syed will hate us and we will never be able to see my sister, Amine, again."

"I should have known this plan would come to no good." Cogia hung his head dejectedly. "I should never have agreed to let you take part in it. I only want this hatred to come to an end so I can see my daughter again. Amine must have children now, and I have never seen them. I might never see my grandchildren!"

"But even so, father, you should never have agreed to this plan. Sheik Abu had nothing to do with what happened all those years ago. He was across the seas then. I do not think he should be made the target for Sheik Ali's revenge now that Sheik Yasir is dead."

"I know, my son, but what can we do now? Perhaps Sheik Abu will not come," Cogia said. He looked out of the open tent. In the center of the camp three little boys were playing with a baby lamb. Cogia ached with wanting to see his own daughter and her children.

"He will come," Amair replied. "And if he brings the men of his tribe, there will be much useless bloodshed for something that happened twenty-five years ago. And not one man who will die had anything to do with it."

And Philip did come, less than an hour later. He came alone and cursed himself for doing so when he realized the danger he was up against

Philip had returned to his camp and was told that Christina had gone riding with Ahmad. He was glad she'd decided to resume her daily rides, and realized it was time to break out of his own depression. His father was dead, but he still had Christina.

Thoughts of Christina went through Philip's mind as he paced the tent waiting for her to return. But when the sun went down and there was still no sign of her, a sickening dread came over him. He ran from the tent and, seeing Syed by the corral, told him to follow.

Philip broke out in a sweat as they galloped down the hillside, Syed desperately trying to keep up with him. After riding some distance in the direction Christina usually took, Philip saw two horses standing close to each other. The color drained from his face when he came closer and saw a body lying on the sand.

He jumped from his horse and ran to Ahmad. The wound was in the lower part of Ahmad's chest; he had lost a lot of blood but was still alive. Syed arrived, and they forced some water down Ahmad's throat. He finally opened his eyes. He looked from Philip to Syed and tried to sit up but was too weak from loss of blood.

"Can you talk, Ahmad?" Philip asked. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Ahmad looked at Philip through glazed eyes. "There were four desert men riding toward us at a fast speed. I—I raised my rifle to fire, but they shot me. That is all I can remember." Ahmad strained to look about, and when he saw Christina's horse he sank back onto the sand. "They have taken her?"

"It looks that way," Philip replied. His body was tense, ready to do battle. He looked to the older brother. "Syed, you take Ahmad back to camp. Maidi will know what to do for him. I don't know how long I will be, but do not follow. I will find Christina, and the man who shot your brother will die."

"Allah be with you," Syed replied as Philip mounted Ms horse.

The tracks from the kidnappers' four horses could still be seen, since there had been no wind to cover them with sand. Philip followed the tracks with a speed Victory had never reached before. He kept seeing Christina's frightened face, and he prayed that he could find her in time, before the men raped and sold her.

He should never have let her ride on the desert. If he had limited her to the camp, she would be there now. And he wouldn't be fearing for her life. Please, God, let him find her in time!

Philip had a sick feeling in his heart as he tried to imagine what his life would be without Christina. He pictured the empty bed that he had shared with her, the empty tent that he had always been eager to enter, her beautiful, soft body that could tempt him so easily. How could another woman ever take Christina's place? He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing her again.

He must love her if he felt this way!

Philip had never believed he would fall in love. What a fool he had been! But what if he couldn't find Christina? Worse, what if she didn't want to be found? Well, he would find her or die trying, and he would force her to go back with him. He would rather live with her hate than live without her. Perhaps someday she would grow to love him in return.