there was nothing. Nothing to be seen.
She blinked again. No indentations. No little telltale heaps where a frisky camel might have kicked out at the sand.
Panic rose in her throat like bile but she fought to keep it at bay. Because panicking would not help. Most emphatically it would not. It would make her start to lose her nerve and she couldn’t afford to lose anything else—losing her way was bad enough.
She didn’t even have a compass with her.
She dismounted from her horse, trying to remember the laws of survival as she took a thirsty gulp of water from her bottle. She should retrace her steps. That was what she should do. Find where she’d lost the path and then pick up the camel trail again. Bending, she lifted a small pebble out of the sand. Sucking it would remind her to keep her mouth closed and prevent it from drying out.
She patted the horse before swinging lightly into the saddle again. It was going to be all right, she told herself. Of course it was going to be all right. It had only been a couple of minutes since she’d missed the path and she couldn’t possibly be lost.
It took her about an hour of fruitless riding to accept that she was.
* * *
‘What do you mean, she’s not there?’
His voice distorted with anger, Suleiman stared at the bent head of the female servant who stood trembling before him.
‘Tell me!’ he raged.
The girl began to babble. They had thought that the princess was sleeping late, so they did not wish to disturb her.
‘So you left the princess’s tent until now?’
‘Y-yes, sir.’
Suleiman forced himself to suck in a deep breath, only just managing to keep his hot rage from erupting as he surveyed the bodyguards who were milling around nervously. ‘And not one of you thought to wonder why one of the horses was missing?’ he demanded.
But their shamefaced excuses were quelled with a furious wave of his hand as Suleiman marched over to the horses, with the most senior bodyguard close behind him. Because deep down he knew that he was not really in any position to criticise—not when he was as culpable as they.
Why hadn’t he been watching her?
His mouth hardened as he swung himself up onto the biggest and most powerful stallion.
Because he was a coward, that was why.
Despite his supposedly exemplary military record and all the awards which had been heaped upon him—he had selected a tent as far away from hers as possible. Too unsure of his reaction to her proximity, he had not dared risk being close. Not trusting himself—and not trusting her either.
He hadn’t imagined the white-hot feeling of lust which had flared between them last night and he was too experienced a lover to mistake the look of sexual yearning which had darkened her violet eyes. When she was standing in front of him in her embroidered robes—her hair woven with fragrant leaves—he had never wanted her quite so much.
Hadn’t he wondered whether her western sensibilities might make her take the initiative? Hadn’t he wondered whether she might boldly arrive naked at his tent under cover of darkness and slip into his bed without invitation, as so many women had done before?
He stared down at the senior bodyguard. ‘You have checked her trail?’
‘Yes, boss. She has headed due north—taking the same path by which we came, back towards the airbase.’
Suleiman nodded. It was as he had thought. She was trying to get back to England on her own—oh, most stubborn and impetuous of women! ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I will follow her trail. And you will assign three men to take up the other three points of the compass and to set off immediately. But no more than three. I don’t want the desert paths disturbed any more than they need be. I don’t want any clues churned up by the damned horses.’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘You will also send someone to find a high enough vantage point to try to get a mobile phone signal. I want the military base informed and I want every damned plane at their disposal out looking for her. Understand?’
The bodyguard nodded. ‘Understood.’
‘And believe me when I tell you that you have not heard the last of this!’
With his final, angry words ringing Suleiman galloped off at a furious pace, the warm wind streaming against his face as he followed the mixed track of the camels and the newer footprints of Sara’s horse.
He had already realised that there would be repercussions. By involving the military, word would inevitably get back to the Sultan that the princess was missing. But he didn’t care what criticism or punishment came his way for having lost the future Sultana of Qurhah. They could exile him or imprison him and he wouldn’t care.
He didn’t care about anything other than finding her safe and well.
He had never known such raw fear as he travelled beneath the heat of a sun which was growing ever more blistering. Even though she was out of practice, he knew that she was a sound horsewoman—a fact which had always been a source of pride since he had been the one to tutor her, but which now gave him only comfort. And he found himself clinging to that one small comfort. Please let her ride safely, he prayed. Please not let something have frightened the horse so that Sara might be lying there buckled and broken on the sand. Alone and scared while the sun beat down on her and the vultures waited to peck out her beautiful violet eyes...
He sucked in a breath of hot air which felt raw as it travelled down his throat. He should not think the worst. He would not think the worst. Think positive, he told himself. At least no snake or brown scorpion could touch her when she was high up on her horse.
But knowing that did not help him locate her, did it?
Where was she? Where was she?
His eyes trained unblinkingly on the ground before him—he saw the exact point where her path had veered off from the main route. Had something distracted the horse? Distracted her?
He pushed forward now, letting the powerful stallion stream across the sands until Suleiman urged it to a halt and then opened his mouth to call across the desolate landscape.
‘Sara! Sa-ra!’
But the ensuing response was nothing but an empty silence and his heart gave a painful lurch.
He forced himself to take a drink from one of the water-bottles he carried, for dehydration would be good for neither of them if he found her.
When he found her.
He had to find her.
The position of the sun and his wristwatch told him that he had been searching for her for over four hours. He could feel his heart pumping painfully in his chest. The heat of the midday sun was a tough enough combatant but darkness was a whole different ball-game.
He thought of the nocturnal creatures
