Diamond in the Desert(17)

Her hands were trembling, Britt realised as she buttoned the phone  inside the breast pocket of her shirt. Not much fazed her, but now she  wished she had a travelling companion who knew the desert. Sharif would  know. This was his home territory. Sharif would know what to do.

* * *

The elders had invited him to eat with them around the campfire. The  respect they showed him was an honour he treasured. Here in the wildest  reaches of the desert he might be their leader, but he could always  learn from his people and this was a priceless opportunity for him to  speak to them about their concerns. They talked on long into the night,  and by the time he left them he was glad he could bring them good news  about renewed investment and the realisation of their plans. He didn't  go straight back to his tent. He felt restless for no good reason other  than the fact that the palm trees seemed unnaturally still to him, as if  they were waiting for something to happen. He had a keen weather nose  and tonight the signs weren't good. He stared up into the clear sky,  knowing things could change in a few moments in the desert.

He paced the perimeter of the camp and found himself back at the harem  tent where Britt would be housed when she arrived. His mood lightened as  he dipped his head to take a look inside. He could just imagine her  outraged reaction when she realised where she was staying. He hoped she  would at least linger long enough to enjoy some of the delights. The  surroundings were so sumptuous it seemed incredible that they could  exist outside a maharaja's palace, let alone in the desert. Like his own  pavilion, hers had been cleverly positioned around the underground  stream. The water was clear and warm and provided a natural bathing pool  in a discreetly closed off section of the tent. Solid gold drinking  vessels glinted in the mellow light of brass lanterns, while priceless  woven rugs felt rich and soft beneath his sandaled feet. The heady scent  of incense pervaded everything, but it was the light that was so  special. The candles inside the lanterns washed the space with a golden  light that gave the impression of a golden room. It certainly wasn't a  place to hold a business meeting. This tent was dedicated entirely to  pleasure, a fact he doubted Britt would miss. He tried not to smile, but  there was everything here a sheikh of old might have required to woo  his mistress. The older women of the tribe had heard a female visitor  was expected and had approached him with their plan; he couldn't resist.                       
       
           



       

Would their Leader's friend be pleased to experience some of the very  special beauty treatments that had been passed down through generations?

Absolutely, he had replied.

Would she enjoy being dressed in one of the precious vintage robes they  had lovingly cleaned and preserved; a robe they carried with them in  their treasure chest on their endless travels across the desert?

He didn't even have to think about that one. He was sure she would.

And the food...Would she enjoy their food? Could they make her  sweetmeats like the old days; the sort of thing with which the sheikhs  of old would tempt their...their...

Their friends? he had supplied helpfully.

'I'm sure she would,' he had confirmed. He had yet to meet a woman who would refuse a decent piece of cake.

His acceptance of all these treats for Britt had put smiles into many eyes, and that was all he cared about.

Their final assurance was that if their sheikh would honour them by  entertaining a female visitor in their camp, they would ensure he did so  in the old way.

Perfect, he had said, having some idea of what that might entail. He  couldn't think of anything his visitor would enjoy more, he had told  them.

Imagining Britt's expression when she was treated as a prized concubine  was thanks enough, but there was a serious element to this mischief.  The older women guided the young, and it was imperative to have them  onside so they embraced all the educational opportunities he was opening  up to women under his rule. Kareshi would be different-better for all  in the future, and on that he was determined.

The peal of the phone distracted him from these musings. It was his  sister Jasmina, calling him to say that Britt had decided not to wait  until the morning to travel into the desert, but with all the confidence  of someone who believed she knew the wilderness-every wilderness-Britt  had insisted on setting out by road, just a couple of hours ago.

Issuing a clipped goodbye to his sister, he went into action. No wonder  he'd felt apprehensive. Here with tents erected against the shield of a  rock face people were safe, but if the weather worsened out in the  desert, and Britt was lost-

All thoughts of Britt in connection with the harem tent shot from his mind. She knew her wilderness, not his!

Striding back into the centre of the camp, he was already securing the  headdress called a howlis around his face and calling for his horse,  while his faithful people, seeing that he meant to leave the camp, were  gathering round him. They had no time to lose. If a sandstorm was  coming, as he suspected, and Britt was alone on treacherously shifting  sand, all the technology of a modern age wouldn't save her.

Calling for a camel to carry the equipment he might need, he strode on  towards the corral where they were saddling his stallion. Springing onto  its back, he took the lead rope from the camel and lashed it to his  tack. He wasted no time riding away from the safety of the camp at the  head of his small troupe, into what Britt would imagine was the most  beautiful and tranquil starlit night.

* * *

Where had the romance of the desert gone? She had almost been blasted  away in a gust of sand in a last attempt to change the tyre. What was it  about her and tyres? And this wasn't fun, Britt concluded, raking her  hand across the back of her neck. Sand was getting everywhere. Eddies of  sand were exfoliating her face while more sand was slipping through the  smallest gap in her clothes.

Did she even stand a chance of being found? Britt wondered, gazing  around, really frightened now. Visibility was shrinking to nothing as  the wind blew the sand about, and the sky was black. She couldn't even  see the stars. She had never felt more alone, or so scared. Battling  against the wind, she made it to the back of the Jeep and locked her  tools away. Shielding her eyes, she opened the driver's door and  launched herself inside. The wind was so strong now it was lifting the  Jeep and threatening to turn it over. She had never wished for Sharif  more. She couldn't care less about their differences right now. She just  wanted him to find her.

She had checked the weather before setting out, but could never have  imagined how quickly it could change. There was nothing to see out of  the window. She changed her mind about Sharif finding her. It was too  dangerous. She didn't want him to risk his life. But she just couldn't  sit here, helpless, waiting to buried, or worse... She had to remain  visible. If the Jeep were buried she would never be found.

There was a warning triangle in the boot-and a spade handle. And the  very last thing she needed right now was a bra. She could make a warning  symbol. And there were flares in the boot.

Downside? She would just have to brave the storm again.
                       
       
           



       
The wind was screaming louder than ever and the sand was like an  industrial rasp. But she was determined-determined to live, determined  to be seen, and determined to do everything in her power to ensure that  happened.

Once she had managed to get everything out of the back of the Jeep,  securing the warning triangle to the handle of the spade with her bra  was the easy part. Finding a way to fix it onto the Jeep wasn't quite so  simple. She settled for wedging it into the bull bars, and now she had  to get back into the shelter of the vehicle as quickly as she could or  she would be buried where she stood.

Closing the door, she relished the relative silence, and, turning  everything off, she resigned herself to the darkness. She had to  conserve power. There was nothing more she could do for now but wait out  the storm and hope that when it passed over she would still be alive  and could dig her way out.





CHAPTER TEN

DISMOUNTING, SHARIF COVERED his horse's face with a cloth so he could  lead it forward. Attached to his horse by a rope was the camel loaded  down with equipment. The camel's eyelashes provided the ultimate in  protection against the sand, while he had to be content with narrowing  his eyes and staring through the smallest slit in his howlis. His men  had gathered round him, and so long as he could see the compass he was  happy he could lead them to Britt's Jeep. When all else failed magnetic  north saved the day.

As they struggled on against the wind he sent up silent thanks that  Jasmina had been able to text him Britt's last coordinates, but a shaft  of dread pierced him when he wondered if he would reach her in time.