To Tempt a Sheikh(17)

"Hmm, if I were a Cyclops, we wouldn't have this dilemma."

"If you were a Cyclops, they'd be the sexiest creatures to ever dominate men's fantasies."

She snorted. "And among all your skills, you acquired a black belt in far-fetched flirting?"

"You're right. I should have stuck with the truth. That it would  dominate this man's fantasies. The two-eyed, sexy bundle of cuteness I'm  wrapped around right now already does."

"I bet you wouldn't say that if you saw me in bloodstained scrubs with  my hair spiked like a porcupine. Yeah, that 'atrocious' haircut wasn't  for my disguise's sake. That's how I keep my hair out of my way and off  my mind."

"You're talking to the man who found you overwhelmingly arousing when  you were sporting a beard. I'd find you sexy if you were covered in mud.  Oh, wait … now there's an idea."

"Mud-wrestling fantasies, huh? How mundanely male of you."

"I don't have those, no. But if it involves you and me, I'll definitely  add them to my inventory of fantasies." She twisted around to glare up  at him and he only whistled. "Whoa. Maybe I'll call it Talia's Glare."

"Since it's harsh and cold, huh?"

"Far from being either, this star, like your glare, is compelling, hypnotic, resolute, indomitable."

She almost did something stupid. Like kiss the aftertaste of those  delicious words off his lips, or swirl her tongue in that solitary  dimple that winked in his left cheek when he grinned.                       
       
           



       

She gave him a pseudo-self-important glance instead. "I'll have you know  this glare has my interns and junior residents in the E.R. jumping and  remaining in the air until I say down."

"I believe it." Suddenly he gathered her tighter. "Would you consider doing that here?"

Her heart veered in her chest. She struggled to spin around further in  his arms, came to lie sideways over him so she could more easily look  into his eyes. "You mean work in an E.R. in Zohayd?"

"Actually, I'd love for you to consider training my men and women in field and emergency medicine."

"Oh … " The idea of remaining in Zohayd after they got through this, the  fact that he esteemed her enough to offer her a responsibility like  that, and elation at the thought of being where she could see him  regularly erupted inside her.

Without thinking of the feasibility of such a scenario, she grinned up  at him. "That sounds incredible!" It was only when his eyes blazed in  return that she faltered. "I mean, we'll have to, y'know, talk this  through when this is over … see if it's even plausible given why I'm here  and all and-wait … women? You have women in your special forces?"

Impatience spurted in his eyes, probably since she'd changed the subject  without giving him an answer. Then they softened again, perhaps in  acknowledgment of the difficulties of their situation beyond the real  and present danger. "Not many, since it doesn't seem to be one of the  career options Zohaydan women prefer."

"I'm staggered that it is an option in Zohayd. That you have any."

His smile turned whimsical. "There is a difference between being a pigheaded, mulish ox and being a male chauvinist pig."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll never hear the end of that, will I?"

"Do you want to hear it?" he teased.

She thought for a moment. Then grinned impishly. "Nah."

With that, they both fell silent and snuggled deeper into each other as if by agreement.

After an hour of being melded together in deepening companionship,  during which she'd simultaneously managed to remain molten and he to  remain hard, they set off again.



The third day came. And passed.

At the end of the fourth day, their supplies had been all but exhausted. And there was no sign of the oasis.

On the fifth day, after sunset, as they'd set out on their cycle of  hikes and rests, Harres had done something that had dread and  desperation taking hold of her.

He'd dumped all their gear.

When she'd protested, he'd fallen silent for a long moment. Then he'd looked at her solemnly.

He'd said that she had no reason to believe he knew what he was doing  anymore. But he could no longer afford to go at that pace. Would she  trust him to know what they needed to survive, to reach the oasis?

And she'd trusted him.

But they hadn't reached the oasis.

Ten hours later, she'd been unable to go on.

She'd collapsed. Harres had managed to catch her before she hit the  ground. He'd laid her down with utmost gentleness, held her in his solid  embrace, raining on her soothing kisses and pleas for forgiveness.

She'd succumbed to unconsciousness thinking those would be the last things she felt and heard in her life.

But she woke up to find herself wrapped in the two blankets left with  them. And Harres's jacket. She was parched and frying alive in the  blistering heat of midday. Emphasis on alive.

And she realized another thing.

She was alone.

She struggled out of the tight cocoon, sat up. Harres was nowhere in sight.

He'd left her?

No. She knew he never would.

But what if something had happened to him? What if their enemies had  found them? Would the prince of Zohayd be a bigger hand to gamble with  in their quest for the throne? How would they use him? What would they  do to him?

She sobbed. No tears came from her dehydrated eyes. She drifted in and  out of consciousness. And even in waking moments, nightmares preyed on  her. Showed her Harres, abused and worse, and all because he'd come for  her … .

Oh, God, Harres … please …

Then, as if in answer to her plea, he was there. She knew he wasn't really there. She was hallucinating with dehydration.

For this Harres was not the sand-car-and-helicopter-riding modern desert  knight, but one on a white horse. Galloping her way as if he rode the  wind, as one with the magnificent animal, made of the same energy, the  same nobleness and fierceness and determination. Her knight coming to  save her.

But there was no saving her. This was the end.

Not that it was too bad. She had only two regrets. That she hadn't saved  Todd, and that she had let everything stand in the way between her and  Harres.                       
       
           



       

If she had her time with him to live again, if she had more time with  him, she would disregard it all and just be with him, experience all she  could of him, while she could.

Now it was too late, and she would never know his passion for real.

What a waste.

Her dream Harres leaped off his horse before it came to a halt, spraying  sand in a wide arc with the sudden abortion of its manic momentum.  Harres descended on her, the wings of his white shroud spread like a  great eagle's, enveloping her in peace and contentment. She was so  thankful her intense desire had given her such a tangible last  manifestation of the man she loved … yes, loved … .

She could barely whisper her bliss to the apparition. "Harres … you feel so good … "

"Talia, nadda jannati, forgive me for leaving you."

"S'okay … I just wish … you didn't have … to leave, too."

His regal head, covered in a sun-reflecting white ghotrah, descended to  protect her from the glare, his magical eyes emitting rays of pure-gold  anxiety.

She sighed again. "You make … an incredible … angel, Harres. My guardian  angel. Too bad you're here now … as that other angel guy … the death guy … "

"What?"

Talia winced. She'd been floating in the layers of Harres's voice, so  deliciously deep and emotional. Now it boomed with sharpness and alarm.

"You're alive and you'll be well. Just drink, ya talyeti." She found  nectar on her lips, gulped it without will or question, felt life  surging into her as she sank in the delight of his crooning praise and  encouragement to her, pouring hoarse explanations. "If I'd carried you, I  wouldn't have been able to reach the oasis. So I left you, ran there.  It took me six more hours, and two to ride back. I died of dread each  second away from you. But I'm back, and you're alive, Talia."

"Y-you're sure?"

His face convulsed in her wavering focus. "Sure I'm sure. Now please  drink, my precious dew droplet. Soon you'll be as good as ever."

"Don't you mean a-as bad?"

She felt herself gathered into arms that trembled, pressed against a  chest that heaved, her depletion probably shaking up her perceptions.  "There you are. My snarky gift from Ullah."

"You say … the most wonderful things. You are the most w-wonderful thing … that ever happened … to me … "

Then she surrendered to oblivion in the safety of his arms.

In the dreamscape that claimed her at once, she thought she heard him  say, "It's you who are the most wonderful thing that ever happened to  me, ya habibati."