The Sheikh's Lost Princess

“You are making a mistake,” the old woman said in French.

He glared at her, flipped the tango to his back and began a rough pat-down. Sweeping his hands across the kid’s shoulders and down his sides and legs, Shakir checked for more weapons. The sight of that ancient dagger had put him on alert. This young Taj soldier could be as deadly to the mission as a scorpion’s sting.

Temporarily stashing his compact MTAR 21 in the pack on his back, Shakir used both hands to search. With his right, he checked between the kid’s legs. While with his left hand, he rolled down under the soldier’s armpits and around the rib cage.

“Bloody hell.” Shocked, Shakir stepped back and stared down into surprised hazel eyes. “Blast it, who the devil are you?”

“I … I …” The female under his hands was at a loss for words. So was he.

Then it hit him—a few minutes too late. “Nicole?” He reached out to take her by the arm and pulled her to her feet.

“Shakir? Shakir Kadir? Oh, my God, what are you doing here? You scared me to death.”

He took a step back and studied the form of the young man standing in front of him. Only now that he knew the truth, the form no longer even vaguely resembled a young man. He should’ve known.

But Nicole’s honey-blond hair had been entirely tucked up under a purple-checked kuffiyah. Her skin beneath the Taj soldier’s garments looked the color of splotchy brown dates. Her tiny feet—the feet should’ve been a dead giveaway—were encased in the smooth leather sandals prevalent in these desert regions.

“What is that ridiculous-looking thing you’ve stuck to your lip?”

She reached up, smoothing her finger along what looked like a line of dirt. “Just a bit of Lalla’s hair. Doesn’t it look like a moustache?”

“Not even a little.”

She grimaced, but immediately recovered her composure. “I don’t understand. This is crazy. Like a bad dream. What are you doing here, Shakir?”

His initial flood of relief at finding her alive gave way to irritation and he, too, grimaced. “We’ve come to bring you home.” She didn’t look injured, but what had they done to her mind?

Where was her gratitude? Where were the tears of joy he had expected to see?

Antsy and ready to move out, Shakir fought his annoyance and reached for her arm. “Let’s go.”

Nicole jerked back. “Where?” She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “How did you find me? Why are you really here?”

Stunned, Shakir saw the mistrust in her eyes and it wounded his pride. Never in their entire relationship had he given her reason not to trust him.

And he didn’t have time to deal with it here. “We’ll hash this out later. The choppers won’t wait.”

She stood her ground. Something odd was going on behind those eyes. Something very odd.

“Now, Nicole.” He started toward her again.

“I was about to leave on my own.” She backed up a step. “What about the other women?”

“I brought in a team. They’re rescuing the other women at this moment. Everyone will leave the country in choppers as a group. Everyone.” His whole body hummed with impatience. “Do I have to carry you?”

“What about Lalla? We can’t leave her behind.”

For the first time, Shakir turned his head to study the old woman in the corner. Speaking to her in French, he asked, “Are you willing to leave?”

“I cannot. I have family who … I cannot, sir.”

The old woman was not Taj. That much was clear. But how long had she been living with them? Long enough to bear Taj children?

Suddenly, the old woman was too much of a liability to leave behind—but killing her was out of the question. “Sorry. You go with us.”

Moving with the speed of lightning, Shakir grabbed the old woman up with one arm, then swung around and picked up Nicole with the other. Neither of the women was a burden. Both weighed less than his backpack. The old woman went limp against his side, but Nicole was another matter.

She didn’t shriek or call out but beat at him with her fists. “Put me down. I can walk.”

He hesitated. “Will you behave? If I set you down, you must keep up. And you must do exactly as I say. Everything. Understood?”

Nicole nodded but kept her mouth closed. Good girl.

He lowered her to her feet. “We don’t have a lot of time left.”

Taking her elbow, he guided her out into the narrow hallway. Once again in darkness, he flipped the NVGs over his eyes. But he didn’t really need infrareds to see. He had memorized every inch of the maze inside this building and they weren’t that far from an exit. He could make it blindfolded.

Moving like a cat, Shakir let his instincts take control. He wanted to blank his mind, to act as he had been trained—without thought. But that look in Nicole’s eyes still bothered him.

He tried to reconcile the tough woman in a makeshift disguise with the sophisticated royal he had once both loved and then hated, but couldn’t make the connection. In a way, he should be impressed with her. Impressed that she would’ve taken the initiative to disguise herself and try to escape on her own. The Nicole he remembered was a follower, not a leader.

Slanting her a glance in the dark, he wondered what kind of person this new Nicole had become. And if he would care for her as much as the Nicole he’d fallen in love with long ago. So far, that seemed highly unlikely.

Nikki let Shakir lead them out of the harem and into the fresh air. She still couldn’t believe it was really him. When he’d first said her name, shock waves of memory blasted right through her system like an earthquake.

Of all the people in the world. Why now?

There’d been a time when she would have given ten years of her life just to see him again. To hear him say her name. To have him tell her what to do.

But that was long ago. A different lifetime.

In this lifetime, he presented a threat. Oh, not that she thought he might hurt her. She knew without question that he would never do such a thing.

No, the biggest threat Shakir posed today was that he had a different agenda from hers. Nikki wasn’t sure exactly what his agenda entailed. But she knew he must have some reason for showing up here in Zabbarán all of a sudden. Since he couldn’t possibly know what she needed most, what she longed to get back, he could not be trusted.

It didn’t take much for her mind to travel from that thought to the next—she might not trust him, but she could use him. She’d seen the light in his eyes when he’d first realized it was her under the makeup. She’d also caught his slight distraction whenever they touched. He’d felt that instant charge the same way as she had. He still had feelings for her.

But Nikki could not let her own distraction deter her from her goal. She would use the charge between them, that sexual awareness, to her best advantage.

With Lalla thrown over his shoulder, Shakir led Nikki through the gardens toward the outer perimeter wall. He was heading toward the hidden gate. She’d been told by Lalla that no one else knew about the almost invisible exit in the wall.

Squaring her shoulders, Nikki prepared for a surprise confrontation at the gate. If he knew about it, others might know and be waiting. This could be some kind of trap. Nikki only wished she still had the dagger that Shakir forced her to leave behind.

When they reached the farthest wall, Shakir leaned down and whispered, “We’re late. Make no noise.”

Noise was the last thing she had on her mind when freedom was this close. She froze, silent and panting, as he released her to lean against the wall.

The gate was nearby. Only a few yards away, but Shakir didn’t move in that direction. Instead, he ignored the gate and withdrew a long doubled up rope with a hook arrangement on the end and began twisting it in his hands. In a few seconds, he pitched the hook end up and over the ten-foot wall. A distant clank told her the hook had hit something solid on the other side.

After another few rope maneuvers, Shakir turned to her. “You first. Put your foot in the loop. I’ll hoist you to the top of the wall. Wait for us there.”

One second’s hesitation was all she allowed herself. She slid her sandal into the loop, locked her knee and hung on to the rope with both hands. The ride to the top went quickly and she crawled up on the wide ledge. Taking a breath, she dropped the rope loop back over the same way she’d come up.

Nikki couldn’t imagine how Shakir would be able to climb up on his own, especially since he had to carry Lalla. But moments later he was standing beside her.

“Down is trickier,” he whispered. “Got the nerve to try it? Or shall I make two trips—one for you and one for the old woman?”

“Tell me what to do.”

Shakir gave her a quick lesson in rappelling. If Nikki hadn’t been so scared, she might have hesitated to go backward over the edge. But she was determined not to draw any attention or cause any trouble.

Not until the last second when she could make a break for it. Shakir and the others might be leaving by helicopter, but she wasn’t leaving Zabbarán. Not without her son.

She still had her map, her compass and the ability to navigate by the stars. And she could rely on her wits. The only difference now was that with all the others leaving by helicopter, her captors would assume she had left the country as well. They would not be quite as quick to give chase.

Her goal remained the same. She had come to this country to rescue her son.

Dragging Nicole by her arm and carrying the old woman, Shakir traipsed across the sands to a stand of date palms not twenty yards away from the wall. He used a simulated high-pitched falcon whistle to warn the others of their approach.

Out of the darkness, Tarik appeared like a ghostly spirit and handed him a canteen. “The others have already headed for the coordinates. The women hostages are so drugged, they’ve been no trouble. There’s not much time left and ten miles to travel.”

Shakir took the first sip then put the canteen to the old woman’s lips and waited for her to drink. She was not cooperative but he forced her to swallow a couple of priceless drops. Afterward, he handed the canteen over to Nicole.

“I’ll take the old woman,” Tarik told him. “You take Nicole. We can make better time if we carry the women rather than try to walk them that far.”

Shakir nodded at his brother and turned to Nicole. “This may not be comfortable, but it’s for the best.”

“Stop …”

Not waiting for her to complain uselessly and waste any of their precious time, he hoisted Nicole over his shoulders and moved out behind Tarik. It was a difficult ten miles over rough terrain to the extraction point and he knew she would never make it under her own power. This was the only way for them to arrive in time.

At any point along the way, if either of these two women cried out for some reason, all of them would be at the mercy of the Taj Zabbar soldiers. Sounds traveled far in the night desert air. Explaining that to Nicole now, however, was impossible. He had to hope against hope that she was smart enough to keep silent.

In his opinion, the going was easy but too slow. He tried to follow an old camel trail, but sand had blown over it in spots and drifts were several feet deep in many places.

Carrying Nicole wrapped around his neck and draped on his shoulders was the easiest part. She was as light as a bird. He didn’t remember her body being this lean in the past. Perhaps the Taj had starved her while she was their prisoner. That notion made him grit his teeth.

After they were flown to freedom and had a moment to reflect and talk, he wanted to ask her how she had come to be captured by the Taj. Had they taken her by force? Shakir didn’t like the idea of that any better than the idea of her starving at their hands.

After her initial surprise at being carried, Nicole’s body relaxed and she was completely silent during their march across the sand. Grateful for the favor, Shakir only wished he could’ve had a moment to still her fears and calm her down before they began the trip. Grabbing her up like a bag of sheep feed and slinging her over his shoulder seemed barbaric. Like something he may have seen done to women back when he’d learned to live as a desert warrior at his grandfather’s knee.

The more he thought about it, the more horrified he was by his own savage reaction. Despite having done it for her best interests, he knew she would never forget. He could only hope she would be able to forgive him someday, though he doubted if he could forgive himself.

They ended up covering the ten miles of desert in good time. In a little over two hours, he looked ahead and spotted the chopper hovering over a wide flat surface. The other members of the team were boarding with their human cargo.

Worried that they were too exposed in the open desert, Shakir halted about fifty yards shy of the pickup zone and lowered Nicole to the ground beside a creosote bush. “Sit and stretch your legs out in front of you for a moment. I’m going in closer to help load the other women. For safety’s sake, I’ll board you at the last possible second. I don’t want to take any chances on surprise sniper fire. Think you can walk?”

Rubbing at her feet to get the circulation back, Nicole looked up at him with that strange expression in her eyes again. “I can walk. May I have the canteen?”

His heart went out to her. Handing the water over, he thought back to the sophisticated but fragile princess who had once captured his heart. She was holding up quite well under the strain.

But they had no time to reminisce. Perhaps later. After he’d rescued her and explained how he’d known of her plight. It was a long story and their minutes left in Zabbarán were coming to an abrupt end.

“I’ll signal when it’s your turn to board. If you can’t walk, I’ll come back for you.”

“I said I can walk.”

She was trying hard to be strong. It made him yearn to take her in his arms and hold her close to his chest, encasing her in a protective embrace. Instead, he nodded sharply, turned and made a dash for the chopper.

Within a few minutes, Tarik loaded the old woman, the last of the hostages to board except for Nicole. Through his earpiece, Shakir heard one of the Kadir surveillance teams warning that a Taj Soviet-made Ilyushin IL-28 was scrambling from the country’s main landing strip a couple of hundred miles away. The old-model jet was known to be a dilapidated bucket of bolts. But still, it would be here within minutes.

“Now or never, brother.” Tarik turned and held out his hand.

Shakir swivelled, signalling to Nicole. The chopper’s rotors blew sand in wide circles around the landing zone. He was suddenly worried that she would not be able to see his signal and started running toward her position.

Calling her name, he closed the distance between the chopper and where he’d left her waiting. No answer.

“Sixty seconds,” Tarik shouted through his earpiece.

Shakir arrived at the creosote bush, but the space was empty. No Nicole. He made a cursory inspection of the surroundings. No Nicole.

“Thirty seconds.”

Bugger it. Bugger her.

“Go!” he shouted to his brother.

“Not without you.” Tarik’s voice was too sharp. His brother was worried about him.

“I’ll be okay.” Shakir worked to sound calm, confident. “I’m not leaving without her, Tarik. I’ll contact you as soon as I can. Now, go!”

Nikki never imagined it would be this difficult to find her way across the desert by using the stars. Lalla had marked the coordinates of every water hole, oasis and town within a hundred-mile radius on her map. But now that Nikki was out here, it all looked the same in the pitch-black night.

Luckily, the house where her son was supposedly living was only about fifty miles from the fortress she’d left behind. She could certainly make a fifty-mile walk in a couple of long nights’ worth of travel. It was true, though, that she would need fresh water and places to rest during daylight hours. In addition to being impossible to travel during the heat of the day, she needed to keep the Taj Zabbar soldiers from spotting her in the desert.

Stopping for a moment, she breathed deep and used one of her precious matches to check her map. That water hole should be right here. She needed to find it before daybreak.

Surely she wouldn’t have the bad luck to get lost on her first night. Yes, she’d gotten a bit turned around while being carried on Shakir’s shoulders. But she had been sure that she’d reoriented herself properly within the first few moments on her feet.

Still a bit curious about how he had known to come for her in the first place, Nikki felt guilty about her disappearing act. But Shakir hadn’t allowed her any time to speak. And hers was a story that needed more than a cursory explanation.

After she found her son and rescued him, maybe then she would try again to locate Shakir. To talk. Of course, the last time she’d tried to find him things hadn’t worked out well.

Thoughts of that dark time, those long months, surrounded her in a swirl of sadness. It had been the beginning of a whole new life. And she had drastically changed from those difficult days to today.

Nikki often wondered how different her life might have been had she found Shakir back then. But what-ifs and maybes were a part of her past now. She could no longer afford to dwell on how things might have been.

Turning in a complete circle, Nikki looked up at the stars once more. That watering hole had to be close.

“You’re almost there.” The male voice, coming out of the darkness, nearly caused her to turn tail and run.

“Shakir?” It had to be him. She had heard that voice often enough in her dreams. “How in the world did you find me here?”

He was beside her in an instant. “We’ll talk about it later. For now, we need to take shelter and stop standing out in the open.”

Grabbing her elbow, he whirled her around. He didn’t take more than fifteen steps before a rock outcropping appeared silhouetted in the darkness.

“Why didn’t you fly off with the others?” She was confused and felt a growing annoyance at his showing up when she least expected it.

“I should also ask why you didn’t get on the chopper.” His pointed reply was not an answer. “But both our questions will have to wait. Trouble is coming. We need to hunker down.”

“The Taj Zabbar soldiers? They found me?”

“No.” Marching them straight past a stand of scrawny trees, Shakir leaned in close. “Hell is on the way.”

“Hell?”

“Scourge of the desert, Nicole. Sandstorm.”

Chapter 3

S andstorm?

Nikki had heard of them, of course. But she never dreamed they could be a problem for her in Zabbarán.

“Could the storm kill us?”

“No.” Shakir put his arm around her shoulders, guiding them closer to the boulders. “But we must take precautions.”

Why hadn’t she noticed anything wrong before he showed up? Was he lying to her about a sandstorm coming? For what reason?

She’d learned the hard way not to trust anyone. Never again would she allow herself to be taken in by a sincere-looking face and a kind manner.

As she let Shakir lead her toward a two-story mound of shale and rocks, Nikki paid closer attention to her surroundings. Yes, she could feel a slight increase in the wind’s velocity, but at this point she was only aware of a nice quiet breeze on her face. Looking around, she also noticed the pale beginnings of lavender light and knew that in the desert that meant daybreak would soon appear in all its magnificence.

Things were never as scary in the light of day as they seemed in the dark.

After climbing up a medium grade to the base of giant rock boulders, Shakir pealed off his backpack. He crouched beside her on the stony ground and opened his pack.

While searching through the pockets, he made a demand. “Give me the canteen.”

Feeling at a loss, she was in no position to argue. At least temporarily she had no choice but to let him make his demands. She gave him the canteen and he used the water to dampen a tan-colored cloth. Then he handed the cloth to her.

“What is this? Your wet T-shirt? What do I do with this?”

The predawn glow gave her enough light to see his eyes. Warm, liquid brown and fringed by long, ebony lashes, those fascinating eyes were a reminder of a time past. Whenever she’d gazed into them in her youth, she’d ended up swamped in a pool of longing and need. There was a time when she had trusted him implicitly to do the right thing. Not anymore.

“After we take cover,” he shouted, “hold the shirt over your eyes, nose and mouth. Breathe through it and don’t stop until I give the okay.”

“Cover?” Turning in a circle, she looked around and saw nothing but rocks and sand dunes. “Where?”

Shakir didn’t answer but stood and hurried over to a nearby rock-covered stand. Even through the low light, she realized this must be the water well she had been expecting to find. While lifting the large flat rock from its base, his muscles rippled and bunched under his shirt. The sight gave her an unwelcome tingle, forcing her to dig her fingernails into her palms to stay quiet.

Once Shakir had the heavy-looking rock in his arms, he used it to cover the well. Every one of his movements was economical, as though he’d been taught exactly what to do.

After returning to her side, he said, “Let’s go.”

Huh? “I don’t think …”

“Look.” He pointed off in the opposite direction of the rising sun.

She turned her head and got one of the biggest shocks of her life. The entire horizon, from desert floor to electric-blue sky, was blurred by a clay-colored cloud. A towering line of menacing dust blocked out both sky and land as it rolled over the dunes. The storm appeared to be headed right for them.

Maybe some things could be scarier in the daylight.

Shakir scooped her up next to his side and ran toward a cleft in the rocks. As they came closer, she managed a better look at the indentation in the rocks. The space seemed tiny. But never hesitating for a second, he pushed her into the small crevice.

“Cover!” He jammed in close behind her, blocking her body with his own.

Nikki had enough room and time left to raise her hands and cover her face with the wet cloth. In the next instant, a deafening roar overtook them.

The sounds of angry sands, fiercely pounding against solid stone, assaulted her eardrums. Winds roared in her ears even under the protective head scarf she still wore. Biting the inside of her cheek, she waited.

Those initial dire seconds of the storm soon turned to long desperate minutes of panic, and finally dragged on interminably for what seemed like hours. Between bouts of panic, boredom and spurts of claustrophobia, she had time to think. Time enough for the stillness of a memory.

A memory from long ago. One sunny summer day when the sky over the English countryside was not blurred with sand, but was so clear and blue it could bring one to tears. That afternoon had been meant for young lovers. It was one of those days meant to fool them into believing that true love would last forever.

But even then, as lost as she’d been in her dreams of lust and in an intense pair of chocolate eyes, in the back of her mind she must have known that love was not the road to happiness. Not for her.

Still, for those few precious months with Shakir, she had let herself believe in the dream.

She’d wanted desperately for Shakir to make things different for them. In her naïveté, he had been everything she’d thought she needed. Everything she had ever wanted. Tall, broad and so good-looking that other girls swooned over him, he was a dashing prince of the desert. An intelligent, modern-day sheik who would carry her off to a fantasy life in some faraway romantic land.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t taken long for her to awaken from the dream. Her eyes had been opened when her parents began demanding that she come home and take up her royal life. The life she had been raised to obediently follow.