The Sheikh’s Disobedient Bride(21)

Tair folded back the cuffs on his shirt and then stood to watch the setting sun paint the desert shades of crimson and gold.



In his culture women married young to protect their reputations. If a woman remained single too long no one would believe she’d remained a virgin, and in Ouaha, a woman’s virginity—her purity—was her greatest asset.



Tair realized Tally wasn’t of his culture, and he was familiar with her Western thought and education, but she was here now, living among his people, his men. He had to do what was right. To protect her. To ensure no one exploited her. And he knew just how to solve the problem.





Tally paced her tent in an absolute temper. She wouldn’t bathe. Wouldn’t change. Wouldn’t do anything she was told. She’d do what she wanted to do, and only what she wanted to do. Period.



Back and forth she went over the old carpet, footsteps muffled by the soft handwoven wool.



He could say he’d lock her up. He could threaten isolation. Starvation. Fine. It’d make a great book someday. She’d become a bestseller. Maybe she’d even win a big literary prize.



Tally glared at the tent opening where the flap had been tied back, in case she tried to run away.In case. Huh. How about, forwhen she ran away again.



Now she glared at the undulating sand dunes in the distance and the men crouched in a circle by the black fire pit.



She didn’t care if Tair was sheikh, or king, or emperor of the whole damn desert. He’d hate keeping her here. She’d be a horrible captive. She’d make his life miserable. He had to know it.



Furiously, restlessly, she kicked at the carpet covering the sand. My God she was going crazy here. But better to be angry than helpless.



Anger was a much better emotion than fear, than doubt. Years ago she’d made a vow—with Paolo’s help, of course—to face every fear with action. And confronting her fears had worked. Look at all the things she’d done: climbed treacherous mountains, kayaked in shark-infested seas, learned to fly solo. All because she’d once been afraid of danger. And change.



Now look at her. Captive in the desert, held hostage by Sheikh Tair el-Tayer, or whatever he called himself.



If only she could stay calm, really calm, not just on the outside but on the inside. Unfortunately, on the inside right now she was a hellcat, all anger and hissing sound and claws. But sometimes anger wasn’t a bad thing. Sometimes, anger protected, empowered. Anger got things done.



Tally exhaled slowly. Okay, maybe in this case anger wasn’t going to accomplish anything. Maybe anger was just going to make life worse.



She dropped onto her low bed, flung her arms over her head, stared up at the roof of her tent. He had to let her go. Send her back. He had to.



Minutes crept by. Endlessly long minutes. Tally yawned. Wiggled. Shrugged her shoulders, stretching.



The sun still wasn’t down yet. The night would be endless. She’d be alone and going crazy again.



If only he’d just give her one memory card. Let her do something. Let her photograph the sky, the dunes, the sunsets. She needed activity, needed to keep her mind occupied. If she didn’t find a way to stay busy she’d lose it for certain.



She was bored. And worse, lonely. Tally hated being lonely, hated that awful empty feeling she got inside.



Even Tair’s horrible company would be better right now than no company.



She slammed her fists on either side of her, hitting the bed’s mattress hard. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t handle this. She was bored and mad and ready to explode.



“You should try meditation.” Tair’s deep voice, tinged with amusement, broke the stillness.



Tally sat up swiftly. “Meditation?”



“It’d help,” he added kindly, the fading sunset behind him shot with lavender and purple streaks.



She hated the sudden leap inside her, a funny twitchy feeling in her chest, matched by a flutter in her stomach. Disgusting, she thought. Shewas glad to see him. “Help how?”



He smiled idly, as if enjoying her temper. “You’re the least peaceful person I’ve ever met.”



How could he enjoy her misery? What kind of man was he? “I don’t want to be peaceful, Sheikh Tair. Iwant to leave.”



“But you’re not going to leave so you might as well learn to relax.” He entered the tent, spotted the tub of water and stack of soap and towels that hadn’t been touched. “You haven’t bathed.”



“I wasn’t in the mood.”



“You like being dirty?”



Tally was just about to make another comment on the squalor of his encampment but decided better of it at the last moment. “If you’ll give me some privacy, I’ll bathe now.”