on the news?”
His lips spread in a wry smile. “There was a time when you trusted everything I said.” Sighing, he gave his head a slight shake. “I only wish I knew why they hate us today. Our old family legends say the two tribes have been enemies for over five hundred years. And supposedly about fifty years ago, my family took sides against the Taj Zabbar and sided with the country of Kasht, their neighbors.
“The Kasht government offered the Kadirs control of Zabbarán’s only seaport. I guess my grandfather’s generation decided that a deep water port was a good enough prize to trade arms to the Kasht. Unfortunately, those weapons allowed the Kasht to kill and imprison a hell of a lot of the Taj people—women and children included—before they could win their freedom a few years back.”
“I can see why the Taj might hate you. But …” He barked out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I know. It was a long time ago, and revenge is an odd reason for war. Nevertheless, the Taj have already blown up one of our port facilities in America, killing a dozen people including my uncle. And we’ve tracked the Taj elders’ movements as they’ve made several attempts to kill my brothers and me.”
Shakir’s unusual story rambled around in her head, while she tried to make sense of it. “I can’t say I have any great love for the Taj Zabbar,” she admitted.
But were the Kadirs any better? “I know firsthand that the Taj run their country like a medieval fiefdom. And they apparently have no trouble at all dealing with drug lords and mobsters from around the world. Still, if things are as bad as you say, I don’t see why your family hasn’t gone to the United Nations and the world community seeking help.”
“How do you know we haven’t?”
“I would’ve learned about it from the news.” He opened his hands, palms up, as if trying to find something he could say to make her understand. “The civilized world won’t listen to us without proof. The Taj pretend to be weak and innocent. We’ve been forced to start up a covert defensive army of sorts, designed to gather as much information about the Taj and their activities as possible.”
“So that’s how you learned about the women prisoners being held for auction?” His explanation sounded logical enough.
She had no reason to doubt. She’d already found out just how sneaky and terrifying the Taj Zabbar could be.
“I didn’t think the Kadir family had a home country.” Could the Kadirs fight such a powerful enemy? “I mean, aren’t you Bedouin? How can you possibly manage to protect yourselves without borders to defend?”
“It’s not easy, Nicole. The Kadirs will have to become tougher than the Taj. Fortunately, some of us already are.”
Chapter 4
“I see.” The horrified expression on Nicole’s face was no surprise, and Shakir didn’t blame her in the least.
He’d deliberately neglected to tell her one thing. This Kadir son was already a tough, ruthless youth when they’d been involved in their college fling. He’d hid his true nature from her, from everyone, all along.
Perhaps it was best if she never learned the uncomfortable truth. Too much information could destroy lives as well as memories. And all he had to do to keep his secret was lead her out of Zabbarán to freedom tonight. Then they would never have to see each other again.
But, hell, he’d been trying to lead her out earlier, and they were within seconds of attaining that goal. She’d casually sneaked away from the chopper instead. Now he would have to find another way of taking her to safety. But somehow his brain wasn’t processing those facts in the right way. Why hadn’t she jumped at the chance to leave?
“All right, Nicole,” he began, using his sternest tone. “I told you how I knew you were a prisoner in Zabbarán. It’s your turn. I want to know why you didn’t board the chopper for safety when rescue was offered.”
“I didn’t want to leave the country yet, obviously.” She sniffed, looking down her nose at him. “And stop calling me Nicole. That’s not my name anymore.”
He was positive she had not married and ascended to the throne of her tiny country the way her parents had wanted. If she had, he would’ve heard the news long ago.
Her current snippy attitude put him at a loss. “Shall I address you as Your Majesty?”
She wrinkled up her nose and frowned.
“How about if I call you Princess? Would that suit you better?”
“I answer to the name Nikki now. Or sometimes to Ms. Olivier. The person you knew as Nicole has been gone a long time.”
That reply brought up more questions than it answered. She hadn’t said why and that made him curious. But Shakir decided against asking anything else. There was probably a long story behind both the name change and why she’d been seeking a job when she came here. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any of it.
Their very survival meant he needed to extend his full focus toward getting them out of the country. Becoming caught up in her troubles was the last thing he could handle in the meantime.
He stole a glance at the lengthening shadows beyond their cave’s entrance. Daylight hours were growing short.
“Let’s take this conversation outside while we test our leg muscles. Rest period is over.”
Going up on all fours, he crawled out into the dry, fresh air. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done had she refused to follow. But fortunately, when he rose to his feet and turned around, she was right behind him. He took a sip of water and encouraged her to do the same.
Then he said, “Okay, I will ask once more and this time you’d better give me a straight answer. Why did you sneak away from the chopper? Why didn’t you want to leave Zabbarán?”
Tracing a finger across her dry lips, she silently stared at him as if lost in thought.
“If you don’t tell me, Nikki, I’ll simply drag you across the desert tonight to the Zabbarán port city of Sadutan. You know I can do it, too. The Kadir family has contacts there. If all else fails, I can either sail us out or fly us over the border in a stolen plane.”
She made no reply.
“And I will do that with or without your consent if you don’t start giving me answers.” He narrowed his eyes and silently dared her to go against him.
“You can sail and fly both? I didn’t know you were such a superhero.”
He didn’t crack a smile. “This isn’t a joke. You have two seconds to explain yourself.”
She looked away, while rubbing circles on her stiffened knee and elbow joints. “To start with, I didn’t come to this horrible country for a job. That was only the excuse I used to earn the airfare. I came for …”
Her hesitation irked him. “Don’t stop now. I need the truth.”
She flicked him a glance full of fear. But he had not a clue what she might be afraid to say.
“Um … Look,” she began hesitantly. “The truth is, a child was stolen from his mother in Paris. I came to Zabbarán to find him and take him home.”
“What?” Her words made no sense. Shakir shook his head and put a hand on her shoulder. “I said the truth. Start again.”
Ripping her shoulder from his light grip, she glared at him. “It’s the absolute truth. A little boy …” Her breath hitched and she had to stop and breathe deeply for a moment. “Just a baby—really. Anyway, he was kidnapped and brought to Zabbarán. The Parisian police refused to do anything about it so I volunteered to bring him back.”
“You?” The idea was almost laughable, but no one was smiling. Shakir put a hand to his aching temple.