The Sheik's Safety (12 page)

He stared at her for a moment. “I think I would like to see that. How your people handle living the old and the new at the same time.”

“Not well.” She thought of the trailer park and the poverty. Her grandfather still had pride in who he was, but her mother had only complaints and disillusion.

“It is not easy.” Saeed looked up at the sound of a plane going above. “I fear every day that too much is lost. And yet we must move forward or be forever left behind and overrun by an impatient history. There is no time to grow at our own pace. We must race to catch up with the rest of the world, and to gain speed we must toss many things overboard, things that are important to us,” he spoke with a passion that reminded her of her grandfather when he spoke of his heritage.

“The only alternative is to be left behind and be exploited by the winners,” Saeed said. “We must choose between our past and our future. It is not a choice anyone should have to make.”

His words bounced around in her head, helping her understand him better and, more surprisingly, helping her understand herself. She glanced at the water truck and the sleeping camels next to it—generations colliding and the future of a nation at stake. It seemed too much of a burden for one man to bear.

“You can never lose this.” She motioned with her hands to indicate their surroundings. “It's as much a part of you as your bones.”

He did not respond at once, and when he did, his voice was low, inquisitive. “Have you not lost the Lenape?”

She blinked, surprised by the question, startled that he could see inside her so well. Had she? Heaven knows she had tried hard enough. The faces of her great-grandfather and grandfather rose in her mind, both of them dead now. She blinked a tear from her eye. She refused to cry. She was a soldier.

“For a time perhaps,” she said. “You can't really lose yourself forever, can you?” She turned to him. “I mean, wherever you go, there you are.” And for the first time she understood. And she felt comfortable with it.

They reached the horses and between the two of them they saddled Hawk swiftly. She rode in front of him, didn't protest when he enfolded her in his arms,
leaning back into his strength while he spoke to one of the sentries before they rode into the desert.

“Is this safe?” she asked once the camp was out of sight.

“Majid's men are back at the city. He knows we're coming. It's too late for a covert assassination now. People would know what happened. They would rise up even without me.” He nuzzled her neck.

“The king didn't send as many troops after you as I would have thought.” She made a last ditch attempt at keeping her mind on something professional, on something a less distracted bodyguard should be thinking about.

“There is unrest everywhere. He couldn't afford to pull out of the villages. And a large contingent is stationed at the southern border. There's always trouble there.”

She knew about the southern border. The Colonel had mentioned it, among other things. She expected to talk to the man again in the morning to get the latest satellite intelligence.

“Turn to face me.” He was already lifting her as he spoke the words.

She swung her legs until she was sitting in the saddle face to face with him, her legs, having no other place to go, resting on his thighs. Now what? Not that she didn't like to be able to look into his eyes while they talked, but the position was hardly comfortable.

He let go of the reins to pull her close, touched his forehead against hers. “I've never known another woman like you.”

She kissed him, afraid he might say more.

His lips parted over hers as he took charge, mastering her mouth as their bodies communicated what neither dared to put into words. He was gentle yet possessive at the same time, and thorough. Lord, he was nothing if not that.

He kissed her senseless, his hands roaming over her body, pulling her legs up until they were wrapped around his waist. She felt his desire and her body responded swiftly, heat pooling in her center that was pressed against his hardness.

And still he found ways to whip her arousal to new heights until she was ready to drag him to the sand, ready to beg for or take by force her release.

“Let me show you an old Bedu trick,” he said against her lips and reached between them to unzip her pants.

“No,” she said.

His hands stilled, his gaze full of emotions, confusion being prominent. “I don't know what's happening between us.”

That wasn't what she needed to hear. She was conflicted on the issue already. His doubts weren't helping any. “We should not have gotten involved. I— It was my fault.”

“This is not a mistake,” he said with force.

“No,” she sighed. However much it would hurt later, she would never regret it.

Why couldn't she have this with some nice American man? Preferably someone in the SDDU who understood her work and was on the same crazy schedule. Why did she have to fall for the one man with whom any relationship was completely impossible?

The last few days with him were like stepping on a live mine. She was still reeling from the explosion of sensations and feelings.

She wouldn't think about the feelings. Maybe she could distract herself with the sensations. Too soon the touch of his hands on her skin would be nothing but a memory anyway.

She wanted that closeness, their two bodies to be part of each other's one last time.

“About that Bedu trick—” She brushed her lips across his.

“Mmm?”

“Maybe you should show me. I mean, for the sake of cultural exchange.”

He cut off with a kiss whatever else she might have babbled. He moved her legs until he could slip off everything—an involved process, but he managed without making her feel awkward—careful to tuck her clothes behind the saddle. Then came his
garments, although by that time she barely noticed what he was doing with his hands since his lips were closed around her nipple.

He cupped her buttocks and he let go of the nipple to take her lips as he pulled her up and forward onto his lap, onto him.

She moaned as he stretched her, filled her with instant pleasure. He had spoiled her for life, she thought. Nobody would do after him. She was going to die an old maid—a very, very horny old maid.

“You like this?” he asked with a conceited grin.

“You're a regular circus act.” She tightened her legs around his waist and drew him in deeper, flashing a smirk of her own at the stunned look that appeared on his face.

The saddle moved back and forth with the gait of the horse, and they with it. All other movement on their part was unnecessary, nothing to do but enjoy the steady rhythm and let their hands discover each other's bodies.

The wild pleasure his body gave her took her by surprise each time. So did his gentleness. It had never been this way for her with anyone.

When they were like this, the world disappeared around them. She didn't want it to return. He was an addiction, a compulsion. Somewhere along the way her body had become convinced that he was necessary for her survival, and overrode her mind.

She refused to worry about tomorrow, the next hour, the next minute even. She just wanted to enjoy the here and now. She wanted to savor every moment of their time together, preserve it forever in her memory and take it with her when she left.

She would not think that this might be the last night they spent together. She would not think beyond the pleasure of the very moment they were sharing.

He kissed her lips, long and tender as the horse plodded on, taking them on to new heights of ecstasy.

“I like the Bedu ways,” she gasped out the words as tension tightened her body. She felt the first spasm of her muscles then felt him surge inside her as they rode into mindless bliss together.

 

N
ASIR DIDN'T COME BACK
until dawn, forcing them to wait another day so they could have the cover of darkness as they approached the city. The old hand-me-down B-52s Majid's air force used weren't equipped with night vision. The Bedouin army meant to take advantage of that weakness, but the waiting was hard. Tension and impatience vibrated in the camp. The men were ready to fight.

Dara looked over the small hill of weapons piled in the tent that had had to be enlarged to hold them all and shield them from the prying eyes above. Crates of semiautomatics, hand grenades, grenade launchers, blocks of TNT. Everything brand new,
standard military issue. The little hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She glanced at Saeed, who was talking to the elders of the clans.

She wanted to be by his side, but understood that it would hold him back. He needed to be with his men, strengthening alliances and reinforcing connections. The presence of a foreigner, especially a woman, would be in the way.

For a moment, she wondered if she would ever be fully accepted in his world, then it occurred to her how little it mattered. She would not be in his world much longer.

She ambled toward him and caught his gaze. He came over a few minutes later.

“Miss me?” He flashed her a cocky grin. “I promise to give you lots and lots of undivided time once we take the palace.”

She snorted to cover up the fact that her blood raced at the thought of them spending some private time together in the near future. “You are the father of your people. Get your mind out of the gutter and try to act with some decorum.”

He raised an ebony eyebrow. “You want to talk about the attack?”

She shook her head. “Where did Nasir buy these weapons?”

Saeed looked at her for a moment as if he didn't fully comprehend the question. “He has connections.”

“Smugglers?”

He drew back at the disapproval in her voice. “It's hard to make a living from the herds anymore. Not all Bedu have oil.”

“You sent your brother to the same gun smugglers who supply the terrorists?” A sense of betrayal choked her. Damn it. He was supposed to be one of the good guys.

“The world is spotted,” he said, not looking the least bothered.

“Excuse me?”

“It's an old Bedu saying. It means the world is full of good and bad. Every action has many consequences. Without the weapons, I cannot defeat Majid, but by obtaining weapons I gave money to the illegal gun trade.” He fell silent for a moment. “You should understand hard choices.”

“Well, I don't understand how you could make this one.”

He took a deep breath. “While hunting terrorists in Afghanistan, the allied forces made over five thousand accidental kills. That's the number of innocent people who were taken out by accident, a number the Pentagon publicly admitted. But it doesn't mean that going after the terrorists was wrong. It was right and necessary, and yet, in another aspect, a terrible price had to be paid.”

Heat crept into her face and voice. “Damn it, don't
you tell me about that. I was there. I flew twenty-two missions.” She swallowed. “I probably killed some of those innocent people.”

“You did what you had to do and in the end you probably saved the lives of ten times as many,” he said quietly.

She looked at him for a while, then back at the trucks. “You are breaking the law.”

“I am about to lead a rebellion. In case you haven't noticed, this whole enterprise is illegal.”

“The men your brother is doing business with are probably the same ones who shot down my plane and killed my team.” She heard her voice rise as Harrison's and Scallio's faces flashed into her mind, Miller's.

“Your plane had no business being in Beharrainian airspace,” he said, but there was no heat in his words.

“So you're glad it was shot down?” Anger whipped through her.

“I'm glad I found you,” he said quietly.

The look in his eyes took the wind out of her sails for a second.

“When you're king—”

“When I'm king my first priority will be to make the desert safe again. I'm going to make sure that all the tribes can survive and make a living legally, so they don't have to turn to smuggling.”

She gave him a skeptical look.

“‘The country we build, we build it for our sons.' My father used to say that. I
will
uphold the law.”

And it filled her with relief to know he meant it.

“I cannot win against Majid with daggers and the few old rifles that have been handed down from father to son in the tribe.”

He couldn't. She knew that. But damn it, he could have asked her for help. She could have had the Colonel arrange for a weapons drop. “I'm going to need to talk to Nasir and get as much information as possible.”

“He is my brother.” Saeed's voice carried a fair dose of warning.

She held his gaze.

“We will go together,” he said.

 

“D
ID YOU GET
the TNT from the same people?” Dara watched as Nasir's face hardened. He disliked being questioned by a woman, answered her only because Saeed was there.

“Of course. I didn't have time to wander all around the desert shopping. I was lucky to get any at all. They were taking a big shipment to the border for someone. It cost me plenty to have them give me even a little of it.”

“Which border?” She figured Yemen.

“Saudi,” he said.

Saeed sat up straighter. Dara understood his sudden focus. His sisters and son were in Saudi.

“If there was a large-scale terrorist attack, what would be the obvious choices? The U.S. embassy, company compounds with Western interest, U.S. Air Force bases.”

“Call Gedad and warn him, just in case,” Saeed said to Nasir as he stood. “I'm sending men for Salah, Fatima and Lamis.”

Dara held her hand out for his cell phone. “I'm calling this in.”

Saeed dropped the phone into her palm. “Nasir will tell them everything he knows.”

And from the look he pinned his brother with, she was pretty sure Nasir would.