Linda Conrad

The Sheikh's Lost Princess


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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