Darker Side of Desire & the Sheikh's Pregnant Prisoner(28)

‘I shall not stay here.’ Anger flashed in the dark eyes. ‘Hasim has promised that when this is over I can live wherever I wish. The world shall be my oyster, Claire.’

‘And your brother, does he honestly believe he will be able to retain control of the country?’

‘Hasim is clever. He has the support of a certain religious faction which is against our present progress. Omarah is too far away from Russia to be strictly controlled, and we have the wealth to protect ourselves.’

So Hasim would use Russian aid to gain control of the country and then once he had he would betray his former allies? Somehow Claire did not think he would be allowed to get away with such treachery.

It was growing dusk when eventually the Mercedes came to a stop at a small oasis. A cluster of tents crouched by the waterside. ‘Out,’ Nadia commanded, thrusting open the door, and wrinkling her nose fastidiously as they were enveloped in a cloud of sand. A small, squat man, heavily robed, approached the car.

‘Well, brother dear, I have brought them to you as I promised,’ Nadia called out gaily, ‘and it is even better than we hoped. She is carrying Raoul’s child.’ She cast a taunting look over her shoulder at Claire. ‘So we shall have to be extra caring of her welfare. Any news from the others?’

The man she had addressed as her brother switched into harsh Arabic, and both of them ignored Claire as she stood swaying in the darkness, overcome by heat and exhaustion, Saud a heavy weight in her arms. They were miles from anywhere and even as the thought of escape occurred to her, she was forced to admit that there was nowhere for her to escape to.

‘You will be pleased to know that your husband is busy trying to vanquish the rebels,’ Nadia taunted her, reverting once more to English. ‘But my brother’s men are skilled guerrillas and it will be some days yet before Raoul is able to return. By that time we will already have been in touch with the Sheikh.’

Before Claire could stop her, she picked Saud from her arms, showing him to her brother, pointing out the tiny betraying birthmark.

‘We lost three valuable people in London. As well as paying for you, Raoul will have to make reparation for them. I hope he values his child-to-be highly, Claire, for if he does not…’ She laughed when she saw Claire’s expression and tormented, ‘Oh you need not worry, we shall not hurt you, you will simply be set free… The desert has its own methods of punishing intruders.’

She was taken to a tent, far less luxurious than the one she remembered from before, and a surly girl brought food and water. Saud was fretful and remembering how cold desert nights could be, Claire wished she had something to wrap round him to keep him warm.

Although she had been sure that she would never sleep, she did so, so heavily that it occurred to her when she woke, cramped and cold just before dawn, that her food must have been drugged. Her main fear that Saud would be taken from her had not been fulfilled. As their chances of escape were nil, it was probably easier to allow her to continue looking after him, Claire decided, trying to coax him to drink a little of the water she had been brought by the same surly girl who had served them the night before.

She could hear sounds of activity from outside, and then the flap of the tent was thrust aside, and Nadia strolled in. ‘Farewell, Claire,’ she drawled. ‘From now on Hasim will take care of you. I am returning to the city—to see how the Sheikh reacts to our demands. I doubt we shall meet again…’ She was deliberately trying to frighten her, Claire knew, but she refused to give in to the insidious tug of fear spreading swiftly through her veins.

‘You will never be able to get away with this,’ she retorted with more assurance than she could feel.

‘You think not? Who is there to stop us? Raoul will never discover where you are. Never!’

Claire knew that she was probably quite right. After the tent flap was dropped in place behind Nadia, she heard the Mercedes purring away and then silence, punctuated only by brief outbursts of Arabic. Apart from the same girl who had brought her food earlier Claire saw no one all day. She tried to keep her spirits up by playing with Saud and by forcing herself to take some simple exercise—walking up and down her tent—but the relentless tide of fear she was constantly trying to hold at bay wouldn’t relinquish its cruel grip.

Another night passed, another dawn was heralded by the now familiar sounds of the camp, then disturbed when Claire heard the sound of a vehicle arriving and a staccato burst of conversation. Had the Sheikh responded to their threats already? She was being foolish to hope, Claire berated herself, Hasim would never allow them to go free. While Saud lived there would always be another contender to the throne. Instinctively her arms fastened tightly round the little boy as she heard impatient footsteps approaching the tent.

They were taken outside and forced to sit beside the oasis as Claire witnessed tents being taken down and placed in sturdy Land-Rovers, and heard shouted, muddled instructions on the cool morning air. As the sun gradually rose, all signs of occupation of the oasis were swept away. They were obviously going to move on, but why? Had the Sheikh somehow discovered where they were? Hope flamed in Claire’s heart, only to be doused when Hasim approached her. He was flanked by two men, both carrying rifles, and Claire stiffened automatically, remembering the scene in the breakfast-room of the Dorchester.

‘Thanks to the ingenuity of your husband, we are forced to move on to a more secure place. Oh no, you are not to come with us,’ he murmured, when Claire moved towards the nearest Land-Rover. His eyes rested on her body and he shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. ‘Is it true that you are carrying his child?’

When Claire nodded her head, too weary and terrified to lie, he grimaced. ‘You will not survive to bear it, I fear, but as any man who takes the life of a woman with child is thrice cursed by Allah, I cannot do as Nadia would no doubt insist and use these,’ he indicated the guns carried by his men, ‘to bring your life to an end. You have two choices. Either you leave the oasis now, taking the child Saud with you; or you remain here, where you might survive until you are found, but we shall kill the child before we leave.’

It was no choice at all and he knew it, Claire thought bitterly. How could she even contemplate saving her own life at the cost of Saud’s? Once they walked into the desert they might as well be dead, she knew that, but she also knew that she would not even think of trying to save herself by sacrificing Saud.

‘I choose the desert,’ she said proudly, lifting her head to meet the cold dark eyes, ‘and I give thanks to Allah that he gives special care to women in my condition.’

‘Personally I care nothing for these old superstitions,’ Hasim told her callously, ‘but my men have learned of your condition and would doubtless react adversely if I killed you or instructed them to do so, and until I have taken my uncle’s place I shall need their support. Now… walk…’

Refusing to give in to the urge to look behind her, Claire did as he instructed. With every step she half expected to hear the whine of bullets behind her, but it seemed Hasim had spoken the truth when he had said that his men would not kill her.

‘Walk and keep on walking for two hours,’ he called after her. ‘If you attempt to return to the oasis before that time is up, Saud will be killed.’

And if she kept walking for two hours, the oasis would be lost from her sight, Claire thought bitterly. It had taken six hours for them to reach the oasis—in a car—and although she was following the road, she knew quite well that she would die, of thirst and heat, before she could reach safety. Feverishly she tried to think. Perhaps if she only walked at night. It was colder then… but how long could she exist without water? How long could Saud exist? Already he was a heavy burden for her to carry, and already the horizon was wavering in front of her. She stopped and turned. Hasim was standing watching her, rifle slung casually over his arm. No, her only option was to go on… and on… her mind thought drearily as two hours melted into three and she had no clear idea of where she was going, the road a dark ribbon where it wasn’t obliterated by sand.

Saud was awake, demanding to be put down. Surely it wouldn’t hurt her to stop for a brief rest? Three hours. Hasim would have left the oasis by now. She could turn back, but as she did so, Claire was attacked by swirling dizziness. She forced herself to walk back, counting her footsteps, forcing herself to concentrate, unaware until she found herself ankle-deep in sand that she had somehow strayed off the road. It was a physical effort to keep her eyes open, her skin burned, her body flinched from the scorch of the sun. She had to sit down and rest… and it didn’t matter really if she did. She had plenty of time… all the time in the world…

* * *

Someone was speaking, dimly Claire recognised the harsh Arabic sounds. She forced her eyes to open, her lids feeling like heavy weights. Someone was leaning over her, a man robed and wearing a head-dress, his features concealed by the thickness of his beard. Vaguely she was aware of deep-set dark eyes, and the curved arrogant blade of his nose, and then everything started to slip away from her. There was something important she had to say, but she couldn’t remember what it was. She roused herself again and this time she was aware of subdued, high-pitched chatter that she remembered from somewhere. She must have made a sound because the chatter stopped. Someone was offering her water, and she gulped at it greedily, suddenly remembering.