The Sheikh’s Disobedient Bride(28)
And yet she was trapped and it was sand.
Tally felt the slow slip of sand and knew she was sinking again, still slowly, steadily, sliding though to where? What lay beneath the sand? A hole? More ground? A cave? Why had the sand beneath her given way?
Tally shuddered imagining the very end and her shudder speeded the slipping sand. Or maybe it was her weight—and gravity—pulling her faster now but she continued to drop, lower, much lower, the weight of the sand on her chest, pressing hot and hard against her lungs.
Her pulse quickened and adrenaline coursed through her. Hell, hell, hell.
She didn’t want to go this way. Didn’t want to go at all, but certainly not this way. And the more she knew she didn’t want to suffocate in sand, the harder she thrashed the lower she slipped.
God, don’t let me die this way!
“Stop fighting,” a familiar voice said from behind her.
“Tair?” Hot tears surged to her eyes. Relief flooded through her. She tried to turn to see him and just sank deeper.
“You’ve got to stop moving,” he said, walking around the side of the sandpit, keeping a careful distance between them.
The sand was up to her armpits and weighing heavy on her chest. “Can you get me out?”
“Yes. After we talk.”
Tally instinctively kicked, feeling the sand creep through the armholes of her shirt, sliding against her bare skin. “Talk now? Tair, I can hardly breathe!”
“Then don’t talk, listen to me.” He crouched down, arms resting on his knees, white robe billowing. “I’m losing patience, Tally. This is the second day in a row I’ve had to save your skin and it’s getting old.”
“You’re giving me a lecture now?”
“You’re making life harder for everyone. You need to accept your fate more gracefully—”
“Accept being kidnapped?” Her voice rose in an indignant howl. “No. Never! This is not my fate. My fate isn’t to be trapped in the desert forever with you.”
“You’re right,” he answered mildly. “It seems your fate is to die today in quicksand.”
“Tair!”
“It’s one or the other, Woman. Make up your mind. I haven’t all day.” He leaned back, took a seat on the sand. “Actually, you haven’t all day. But why beat the point to death? It’s your life, not mine.”
“Stop threatening me and just get me out.”
“Tsk tsk,” he chided her. “So rude. Is that the way to ask for help?”
“You know I want your help.”
“You don’t appreciate all the things I do for you.”
“Do for me?” Her voice rose as she slipped lower, sand engulfing her all the way to her shoulders. “Tair, I’m going to go under. Get me out now.”
“Ask nicely.”
“This is a game to you!”
“I wouldn’t call it a game, but it is interesting. Will the American ask for help or will she sink all the way under?”
“Tair.”
“Ask for help, Tally.”
She felt wild, panicked. “You’re not being fair.”
“Life’s not fair.” His dark gaze met hers and held. “Learn to ask for help, Tally.”
“I did. I asked you to get me out.”
“It wasn’t very polite.”
She could feel the sand on her neck, feel it press relentlessly, feel the slippery cool grains everywhere and her head spun, dizzy. “I hate you.”
He sighed. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“Why are you?” Tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t even brush them away. “You know I can’t get out of here without your help but you’re making me beg and that’s cruel—”
“Refusing to ask for help is worse. That’s a death wish, and stupid.”
“What word do you want? What is it you want to hear? Tair, you’re so marvelous. Or Tair, you’re my man. What is it you want?”
The edge of his mouth tugged. “That’s quite gratifying, Woman, but I was actually just looking for please.”
Tair rose in one fluid motion, white robes swirling and going to his horse, he withdrew a rope, tied it to his stallion’s saddle and returned to her side.
He stretched out on the sand, and inched his way toward her and tossed the looped rope around her shoulders, and tugged, the loop tightened lasso-like and he had her secure.
Whistling to his horse, the stallion began to back up and with Tair guiding the rope, he managed to drag Tally free of the sand.