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.
Nikki did her duty, stepped up and complied with her parents’ bidding. She sent Shakir away. But secretly, as she had spoken those hateful words of goodbye, she’d hoped against hope that he would not leave willingly. She wanted him to take a stand and make his own demands.
Wishing for him to love her enough to fight for her, Nikki had held her breath. She waited for Shakir to plead his case and offer to steal
