Desire In The Desert: Sheikh's Rule

They had shelter and, more importantly, they were alive. They had lived and others had died.

She wasn’t sure how it happened but suddenly she was in his arms and his lips were on hers. Her heart beat wildly as he held her tight against him and she could feel him hard and ready against her belly. His lips were warm and oddly soft in a demanding, masculine way as they parted hers, and her heart pounded in time with his.

She wanted to hold him tighter and demand more. And yet it all seemed too soon and too much. For the first time she had thoughts that hadn’t occurred to her before. He was her boss. Her job mattered. Sex with the boss wasn’t the best career plan she’d ever had.

“No.” She shook her head. “I can’t.”

His knuckle ran along the edge of her cheek, caressing it, as his tongue tasted the edge of her lips. “What’s wrong?” he asked thickly, his desire still hard between them.

“No, Emir. Not now.” Why did she say that? Not ever was what she meant to say as the wind howled and the tent rocked and sand pelted against the canvas.

He caressed her breast.

She couldn’t have wanted him any more than she did in that moment. Instead she pulled back, forcing him to let her go.

“You’re my boss,” she muttered.

His dark eyes raked her face but he said nothing.

She moved away from him but the tent wasn’t large. She found herself next to the heater, a heat that was safer than the kind of heat he offered.

“We need to get some food, get some sleep and make a plan,” she said.

An awkward silence seemed to descend after those words. She looked at him from beneath her lashes. His back was to her and he was going through their supplies. Apparently he wasn’t fazed by rejection.

“Here’s one of your demands met,” he said, holding up a can. His expression was placid, like nothing had happened between them.

He tossed her a can of soup followed by a spoon and she peeled the metal lid back. Despite the fact that it was cold and, as a result, slightly congealed, it was exactly what she needed.

Ten minutes later she set the empty can aside. The storm was still going full force and as the wind pushed and pulled at the canvas, the noise was almost alarming. It was dark except for the occasional flicker of a flashlight they used to navigate the space. The wind rocked the tent and she wondered if it would hold.

“Ignore it,” he advised. “We’ll be fine.”

But there was pain in his eyes and she knew that he thought of Tara.

“We’ll all be fine,” she said. “Tara, too.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead he handed her a tin of rice pudding.

“No.” She laughed. “There’s something about rice in pudding—no.”

“Don’t know what you’re missing.”

He took a spoonful of pudding that some employee had thrown into the kit and grimaced as he swallowed. He held out his spoon. “You sure?” he asked with a smile.

“From the look on your face, yes,” she said with a laugh and then immediately turned serious. “We’re seven miles from the oasis. That’s what I got from what I saw of landmarks before the storm hit and from matching it on the map,” she said thoughtfully.

He put the tin down. “We could walk in once the storm...”

“A mile of that is going to be a fairly challenging climb through the cliffs that are backing the oasis. Not wise in the dark.” She paused. “I’ve been thinking about the kidnappers. They’ve been playing you, taking their time.”

“And?”

“I think we buy time, make them nervous. Play the game they’re playing right back at them. We put ourselves in position to move on them by nightfall.” She looked at her watch. It was now only seven. “Tomorrow.”

“And Tara has to spend another day and night with them. Anything could happen, they could kill...”

“They need her, Emir. I think we put her in less danger if we bide our time, make them sweat a bit more, than if we try to move in without any idea of the environment in which they’re holding her. Tomorrow we’ll be prepared and we can use the night to our advantage.”

Hours later she slept and awoke to see that it wasn’t quite as dark, that the storm had abated and that she was cold. She looked over. Emir was sitting up, his gaze thoughtful.

She sat up, too. “What’s going on?”

“Not much,” he replied. “Almost daylight. We’ve got about an hour.”

“Did you get any sleep?” she asked as she blinked and rubbed her eyes.

“No.” He shook his head. “You got some sleep anyway.”

“I did,” she replied as she ran a hand through her hair. “I must look a mess.”

“No,” he said softly, his eyes intense as they swept over her. “You look beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” she repeated. She’d just been through a gunfight, a sandstorm—killed a man. No, two.

“They needed to die, Kate,” he said as if he’d read her mind, as if he knew that despite the thrill of battle she was not a killer. “It made me sick the first time and the second. It makes me sick every time,” he said.

“I threw up the first time,” she admitted. “And almost quit.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said softly, meeting her eyes. His were like molten chocolate, the look in them more of that of a lover than of a friend or colleague or even boss.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Kate,” he said in a gravelly whisper.

She shivered.

“You’re cold. The heater isn’t much. Come here,” he said and he could hear the edge in his voice.

He moved closer to her until he was right beside her. He lifted the blanket from his shoulders and brought it around both of them, and pulled her close to him, using his body to warm her. “Neither of us will be any use to Tara if we use all our energy trying to keep warm.”

But it was only a few minutes of them sitting like that, with her pressed against his side so tight that he could feel the softer contour of her breast, that he knew it had been a mistake. Nature hadn’t built enough restraint in him to hold a woman more sensual than any he’d met before and just keep her warm, or for that matter a woman he’d been attracted to since he’d first set eyes on her.

He tipped her face up and kissed her long and hard, his tongue tasting her, relishing it all; the sweet taste of the cinnamon gum she’d chewed just after awakening, the hot feel of her tongue as it mated with his, the sleek feel of her skin, all awakening a desire in him that ached to be appeased.

He took a deep breath and reminded himself of why he was there, that she was his employee, as she had reminded him—a partner for now. She couldn’t be anything else. And none of that mattered. For the beat of his heart told another story.

“I want you,” he whispered as if all the kisses that had come before hadn’t already told her that.

“You’re my boss, and my career...”

She looked at him with a desire that had him using all his willpower to hold back.

The rise of her breast seemed no more than a lover’s kiss, a soft caress against his upper arm. He reached out tentatively, his palm brushing the seductive softness.

“I want to be so much more,” he whispered. “The rest doesn’t matter.”

Her breath was a small purr of pleasure as her hand slipped under his shirt, skimmed the side of his ribs and moved down as if his words had given her permission.

His hands dropped lower, pulling her tight against him, flipping onto his back with her on top as he kissed her with every ounce of enthusiasm and feeling she gave him. His hand grazed the edge of her breast as it seductively pressed against him and his want pressed against her thigh.

She shuddered.

“You’re still cold.” He raised himself on an elbow, reaching for the blanket that had dropped to the side.

She took his wrist, even as she shook her head. “Don’t stop.”

He rolled over so that he was on top of her, blocking the cold tendrils of the breeze that seemed to find its way inside the tent. Her curves were pressed more tightly against him. His hand slid under her T-shirt, undoing the front hook of her bra, freeing her breast into his hand. One hand cupped a breast while the other pulled the T-shirt over her head, the bra followed.

She moaned as her nipple tightened beneath his fingers.

He took one nipple in his mouth, his tongue tormenting her in tiny caresses as he toyed with one and then the other. She twisted, rising up as if to meet his hardness, as if that would get them what they both wanted sooner.

“I can’t wait,” he said thickly as he unzipped her pants; his hand slipped under her panties to find her wet. She quivered as his fingers parted her.

Soon she was bare beneath him and her hand was reaching for his zipper.

His hand slipped between them, covering hers, stilling it.

He stood, took off his pants and was again pulling the blanket up around them, as their body heat was trapped by the blanket and combined with the heat of desire finally succeeded in warding off the desert chill.

“Now,” she said as she rose to meet him and clung to him as he entered her as quickly as he’d seduced her. Yet, in the hot and cold of the desert, where life was both tenacious and fragile, somehow it felt right.

But it was only when she rolled over and took command did he wish that time was not a short commodity, because for blissful minutes the nightmare that had been over fifty hours in the making was soothed twice in the most blissful way possible.

“I’m sorry,” she said when she laid by his side sometime later.

It was a strange comment and one he supposed he should have been making, but he wasn’t sorry. He’d been attracted to her from the beginning—wrong place and wrong time, it didn’t matter—he wanted this to happen.

“I’m not,” he said and there was a hoarse edge to his voice. He sat up and snapped the top off one of their water bottles, took a long, thirsty swig and then offered it to her. “It was bound to happen.”

“What do you mean by that?” she demanded as she stood, naked and unconcerned, her hair loose, caressing the edges of her breasts, her face flushed from his kisses. “I was just sorry we didn’t have more time.”

“Really?” Desire raced hot and wild through him. “You’re damn sexy, Kate,” he said. “And I think I’m falling for you. But if you don’t get dressed, we’ll never leave this tent.”

Minutes later, dressed, she sat beside him.

“We need to focus,” he said. “We’re going in after Tara and I don’t want to see any casualties, at least, not of anyone I care about.”

Anyone I care about.

Those words seemed to hang between them, meaning so many things both spoken and not.

“I know you hate waiting,” she said, trying to forget his words that had the power to change so much. “But I really don’t think they have a clue what they’re doing. I’m beginning to think, like we talked about last night, that we should wait until tonight. It will throw them off, which is better for us.”

“If we at least get into position before nightfall, I can live with that.” He stood. “Let’s start getting this packed up so we’re ready to move.” He turned around. “And, for the record, I’d do it again,” he said.

A slow smile spread across her face. “For the record—we will.”

“Darn sure of yourself,” he said as he leaned over to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

She twisted so that the kiss landed on her lips and she took it to the next level. The kiss was hot, openmouthed, ripe with desire and the promise of more. But she pulled away as his body began demanding to take charge.

“I am very sure of myself,” she replied. “Now, let’s get your sister.”

Chapter Eighteen

Wednesday, September 16th, 11:00 a.m.

“Let’s do this,” Kate said as she pulled out her gun, checked the chamber and holstered it. She turned to look at him with zeal for the assignment alive in her eyes. There was a confidence about her that was all about succeeding, and that confidence was contagious.

They’d spent the earlier part of the morning scouting the terrain backing into the oasis. There had been no sign of the last man who had shot at them, but they’d been prepared if he had showed up. When they got back to the tent there was nothing to show that it had been disturbed. No footprints, no evidence that anyone, other than them, had been there.

“Looks like our guess was right. I doubt if their sniper even knew what he was shooting at. He couldn’t see much in the storm,” Kate said. “They know someone’s here. I don’t think they had a visual, but sound travels. It’s clear that they had a watch.”

“I think you’re right,” Emir agreed.

“It’s rough terrain. I doubt if we’ll be able to make anywhere near the average 2.4 miles an hour. So...” She looked at her watch.

“We leave in an hour,” he said as he pocketed the compass, loaded his Glock and stuffed two spare magazines into his pocket. He shifted his knapsack where she knew he had another couple of magazines, just as she did in hers. They were both prepared to hold off an army if necessary.

“Let’s do it,” Kate said less than an hour later.

“Kate,” he said, taking her into his arms and kissing her hot, brief and full of promise.

They both knew this would be the only reference to what was growing between them. After, it would be all business.

And as if to confirm that, he let her go as quickly as he had pulled her against him. It was like they’d never been intimate. It was what they had to do, for they needed to be focused. One mistake could jeopardize everything and everyone.

For the moment it appeared they had the advantage. The kidnappers didn’t know that she and Emir were out here. At least so they hoped, for just ten minutes ago Zafir had contacted them to let them know there had finally been another ransom demand, this time with specific instructions. They wanted a helicopter drop with an unarmed pilot at an oasis thirty miles to the south of the location where they now had them pinpointed. That wasn’t going to happen. Now it was just a matter of getting Tara out.

Unfortunately, the kidnappers knew someone was here, it was only a matter of time before they put the pieces together.

“If we come in from the northwest corner, there’s what I believe is a crevice that leads to a tunnel through a cave and goes straight through and into the oasis, hopefully near where they’re holding her. I don’t know how big it is, but I know the children, when the oasis was a settlement, used to use it,” Kate said with an almost breathy excitement in her voice.

“How do you know this? You have no access to internet, no...”

“At the village. El Dewar. The women had more to say than what I told you.” She shrugged. “An old lady I met was born here, in these very hills, on the oasis we’re heading for.”

“Anything else?”

“No one uses the oasis anymore, at least, not to live. In fact, she said it was mostly forgotten. Dried up when she was a child. She thought that there was some water, enough for a traveler or two. I’d say that makes it about perfect.”

He smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

The valley was narrow and surrounded by low-lying sandstone hills. The oasis was on the other side of the valley and, from what she had gleaned from the atlas, backed two steep hills at the end of the chain that served to protect it from outsiders.

“From what that woman said and what I’ve calculated,” Kate said hours later, “we should be close to the break in the rock that would take us in.” They’d been moving carefully through the valley throughout the afternoon. Now, the sun was setting and spilling a vibrant orange across the valley and up into the hills that stood like ancient sentinels, protecting the valley from intruders.

“We go up from here and through the rocks there,” Kate said a few minutes later as she pointed to her right and about two hundred feet up.

They began to make their way up the narrow, steep path that wound between the rocks. Within twenty-five feet the path became smooth, almost worn, making it clear that at one time it had been a well-traveled route.

“The tunnel that leads into the oasis shouldn’t be much farther,” she said.

The rock rose on either side as high as Emir’s shoulders, then the path narrowed and he found himself occasionally clipping his shoulders against outcroppings.

“They must have used this path to get water or maybe for defense. I believe they more frequently came in from the other way,” Kate said. “From the oasis.”

They both knew it was irrelevant what the path had been used for. What mattered was that it was there and that they knew of its existence.

He was glad that she had been in El Dewar to listen to the musings of an old woman. Between that and the other women who had spoken to her, in the end, despite her unease, she’d succeeded. In an odd way, the women had trumped the men. He wondered what Tara would say about that and, at the thought of Tara, the old fury rolled in his gut. They were so close.

We’re here, Tara, he said silently, as if his sister were privy to his thoughts.

“We’ll get her out, Emir,” Kate said. She stopped and took his hands in hers. “We’ll get her out,” she repeated and rose up on tiptoes to kiss him.

He took her in his arms and kissed her with all the emotion he was feeling. When he let her go, somehow he felt better, more centered and less angry.

That was something Kate did for him, among so many others. He felt like he’d known her forever and, as much as he wanted to find Tara, he dreaded the moment when he’d have to let Kate go. He pushed the thought out of his mind, for it was those kinds of thoughts that got one killed or worse, got one’s partner killed. That would never happen. He wouldn’t let it.

“Let’s go,” she said and they continued to make their way along the trail as it rose up and then began to go downward.

Finally they came to a dark hollow, a cave that Kate claimed the old woman had told her tunneled through the cliff and straight into the oasis. It was a long shot, but it was all they had. The light was scant as the penlight flickered off the rocky path. They had more powerful flashlights but this was all they could chance without risking the light might be seen.

“Cover me,” he said. “And I’ll go in.”

“You won’t fit,” she replied.

“You don’t know that.” The opening was five feet high by four wide, plenty of room. He bent and entered the tunnel, but within seven feet it became drastically smaller. He shone the light ahead to see that the tunnel curved and realized that he would never get through. This tunnel was made for a smaller person. Reluctantly he backed out.

“We can go around...” he began.

“And let them know we’re here. Ring the doorbell before entering—so to speak,” she said and didn’t tone down the sarcasm. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Let me, Emir.”

“No...”

“Think of it, if the kidnappers are there, they’re protected. If we come in from the oasis, we’d be in the open with no idea as to what their setup is. We’d be sitting ducks. No help to Tara. I can make it through the tunnel. At least, I can try,” she whispered frantically. “I need to do this, Emir. We have no choice. You know that.”

Reluctantly he nodded. “If she’s not near, or if she is and you can’t get her attention, come back. Any trouble at all...come back.”

“Don’t worry.” She adjusted her holster, moving it to her back so she could more easily crawl on her belly if necessary.

She took the small penlight then gave him a kiss.

He pulled her against him, his lips ravishing hers, opening her mouth, bending her back as if the passion in the kiss would somehow protect her. When he let her go, they stood looking at each other as if it was the last time they’d get to do that. He pushed that thought from his mind. It wouldn’t happen. She was too skilled, too smart, and he cared for her too much.

“Be careful.”

“No worries,” she said, her lips red from his kisses.

She turned and ducked into the tunnel. He shone his light on her until she disappeared and all he wanted to do was follow her.

He was left to wait. He couldn’t leave his post. He had to remain there, waiting in case she might need him.

He paced.

* * *

THE TUNNEL NARROWED almost immediately and then opened up so that Kate was able to walk with her head down. The rock was cool and the passage narrow enough that her shoulders occasionally scraped rock. She could hear faint scratching and movement from somewhere within the tunnel and her flashlight caught sight of a black beetle that froze and then scurried away. She could see why children used this route, but a grown adult wouldn’t as at one point she was doubled over and her knees were bent.

The low ceiling and the narrowness had her fighting feelings of claustrophobia and wrestling with the idea of retreating. A minute later she came around a turn and then another going right and then left. Suddenly she could hear male laughter and saw a flicker of light. She turned off the penlight.

The smell of cigarette smoke wafted around her and was intertwined with the smell of burning wood and of what she guessed might be the smoke from a campfire. She squatted, knowing she was near the exit, and waited. If she were able to smell the cigarette smoke over the fire, then the smoker wasn’t far from her position. She waited, sniffing the air. Five minutes passed before she could smell nothing but the fire. Whoever the smoker had been, they’d either put it out or moved away. She had to take her chances and hope it was the latter.

She got down on her hands and knees and crawled the remaining distance as the tunnel twisted before she saw another flicker of light. There was a palm tree growing up against the rock, partially hiding the opening. She could see the snap of flames about fifty feet away and as she looked down there was a movement. But she couldn’t make out anything in the dark. She squatted back on her heels. As she contemplated what to do next, the night sky cleared and the moon shone bright and revealing. She looked down and met the terrified eyes of Sheikka Tahriha Al-Nassar.

Kate put her fingers to her lips and the woman nodded while avidly watching her. She pointed at Tara and then back at the tunnel where she crouched so that it was clear what she wanted her to do and where she wanted her to go, once she managed to free her. It was a backup plan, nothing else. So that if anything happened to her, as long as she was untied, Tara could still get out and to safety.

Kate looked toward the campfire and saw that there were three men. She could hear their voices and laughter and, as the flames danced, she could also see that they were sitting with their backs to her. The tricky part would be getting Tara free, for they could see in the moonlight as easily as Kate could.

She slid down the path that wound steeply from the tunnel to the hill. She kept low and used her feet to control and steer her way while remaining hidden from the men by the shrubbery growing up against the hill.

With a bump she was on her butt on level ground and the only thing that stood between her and discovery was a grassy bush and another palm tree. She looked over and Tara was watching her. Kate shook her head and the woman looked away.

She could see that Tara’s hands were tied behind her back and secured to the trunk of a palm tree. She could also see that they’d only used rope. They obviously hadn’t expected much resistance and she hadn’t expected that it would be that easy. She fished the knife she always carried out of her pocket. It couldn’t be called a pocketknife but it couldn’t be called a hunting knife, either. All she knew was that it could slide through any kind of rope with ease.

She held her breath, watching the men. They were caught up in their conversation, and none was paying attention. She’d be in the open for a minute, the time it took to get to Tara. She just needed Tara to back up against the palm tree. She waited until the woman glanced at her and she motioned to the tree. Tara moved until her back was pressed against it.