Donna Young - Captive of the Desert King

The bed curtain flickered and Oruk’s loins grew heavy. He finished the shot of whiskey, then put down his glass.

“Screw up again, Roldo, and I will punish you myself.” Oruk held one side of the curtain open and stepped partway through before turning back to the little man. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes. I understand.” Roldo waited until Oruk disappeared, then he spit again.

This time in front of the curtain.

“WE’LL REST FOR A MOMENT and let the horses breathe a little,” Jarek ordered, then pulled on Taaj’s reins. He leaned down and whispered in his son’s ear, then pointed to a small niche in the wall a few feet away.

“It cannot be too much farther, Sarah,” Rashid told her as he slid off his father’s horse. “Once the path widens, I’m sure we’ll find shelter.”

Jared had stopped mid-height of the sandstone cliffs—a monument of jagged stone and sheered walls, all striped in burnt hues of rust and beige and black shadows.

The evening wind skittered across the dunes, now washed in golden hues from the fading sun.

“It really is beautiful, isn’t it?” Sarah murmured.

“Uncle Quamar says that for those who learn to respect the Sahara, her true beauty is revealed,” Rashid explained.

The little boy had dozed for most of the two-hour trip, leaving nothing but a tension-filled silence between Sarah and his father.

“Your Uncle Quamar seems to say quite a bit, doesn’t he?” Sarah slid from her saddle, happy to give her backside the respite.

“He certainly does,” Jarek commented wryly, then jabbed a thumb at the long wall of cliffs. “There are caves in between the rocks and crevices. We’ve only a little farther to go before we find shelter in one of them. But from here on, we’ll need to travel on foot,” Jarek instructed.

“I’m beginning to think, I’m more of the ‘wave down a taxi with air conditioning’ type of person, Your Highness. No offense to your horse, Prince Rashid.”

“I’m sure she isn’t insulted.” Rashid patted Ping’s neck, just to be sure then nodded toward the niche. “I have to…” He paused, then grinned. “Take care of business.”

“Oh, you do, do ya?” Sarah asked, totally charmed.

“An expression my aunt uses,” Rashid admitted.

Sarah glanced at the small crevice. “Very American, too.”

“Yes. It’s a good one.” This time when Rashid winked, he managed to flutter only one eye.

Sarah felt the familiar bump in her heart.

“You surprise me, Miss Kwong.”

“How?” she asked, her eyes locked on the little boy as he walked a few feet away.

“Rather than a taxi, I thought you’d be more of the ‘jump in the fire-red sports convertible’ type of person.”

The fury whipped through her, split-second fast and razor wicked.

She caught the speed, throttled the anger back. But the wicked broke free and curved her lips. “Actually, I drive a hedonistic black sports convertible. My father’s words, not mine.

“But when I step out with it—usually in a fire-red dress—I wear them both with class. Something my father said comes from good breeding and even better manners.”

She heard the hiss, a rasp of air caught between clenched jaws but she didn’t turn, simply because she didn’t care. Maybe it was the fact he’d come close to the mark, or the fact that she’d already spent the day surviving a plane crash and dodging madmen with machine guns. Or maybe she just couldn’t understand how a jaded man like Jarek could have such a wonderful little boy like Rashid.

In the end, none of it mattered. Even the possibility of being sent home on the next available flight out of Taer.

“I deserved that,” Jarek admitted on a sigh. “I apologize, Sarah. My father raised me better also.”

The sincerity caught her, another nudge, but unlike Rashid’s remark, Jarek hit her deeper, in the pit of her stomach.

“Apology accepted.”

“Thank you,” Jarek replied softly, simply. But his gaze, one that had the darkest part of his eyes flaring with awareness, wasn’t simple.

And suddenly, being sent home on the next flight from Taer didn’t sound so bad to Sarah.

STONES, some the size of adult fists, others small boulders, sprung free from the ledges and tumbled down the walls to the chasm below. But most stayed on the trail, little enough to make their way into Sarah’s shoes, dig in her heel and, after an hour or two, rubbed her toes raw.

“We’ll stop here for the night.”

Jarek halted the horses in front of a shallow crevice. It was identical to many others they had passed along the path.

“Here?” She picked a particularly sharp stone free from beneath the arch of her foot and decided distance was a relative term when traversing rocks and narrow trails.

He gestured just beyond one side of the crevice to a rock that jutted from the cliff wall.

Sarah looked closer and whistled. The stone lip curved back, hiding a cave entrance wide enough to fit each horse. “My first secret passage.”

“Mine, too,” Rashid said with awe. “Ali Baba and his thieves could have lived in a cave such as this.”

“Let’s hope they aren’t in there now.” Jarek took one of the glow sticks from the survival pack. “Sometimes there are lions in the caves, as well as vipers and scorpions. Stay here while I check to make sure it is safe.”

Sarah heard the snap of the stick and suddenly the entrance was dimly lit with neon green light.

“So you like Ali Baba, do you?”

“The story is my Aunt Anna’s favorite. She reads it to me and my cousin Kadan when we are sick.”

“It’s clear.” Jarek stepped out of the cave and gestured them in with the horses.

Eight foot in height, the crevice opened into a cave more than thirty feet deep and ten feet wide.

“This is huge,” Rashid murmured, leading Ping through.

“I don’t know about huge,” Jarek mused, tugging Taaj forward. “But it will provide protection from the cold.”

The scent of stale earth and dust caught in Sarah’s throat, making her cough. But it was the dankness of the rocks that made her rub her bare arms.

“Why is it damp?” Sarah forced her eyes to focus through the shadows. “Is there water in here?”

“Yes.” He led her to the rear of the cave. A small stream trickled down the back wall into a natural basin of rocks at the floor.

“You’ve been here before.” It was a statement, not a question, but Jarek chose to answer Sarah anyway.

“Quamar and I spent quite a bit of time out here exploring when we were younger.” Jarek took a few more of the glow sticks out of the pack, snapped them, then tossed them onto the floor.

“This will have to do for light. We cannot start a fire. The rocks at the entrance would conceal the flames, but not the smoke.”

“We should have energy bars or something in the survival kit.”

“Rashid, we’ll leave the horses saddled, just in case. But I want you to help me bring them back here to drink some water. After, we’ll return them to the front of the cave. They’ll give us warning if anyone approaches.”

“Yes, Papa.”

While father and son took care of the animals, Sarah grabbed the backpack and sat down on the ground.

Laughter caught her attention. A rich, deep chuckle that made a woman’s breath hitch, her heart beat just a tad faster.

Deliberately, she turned her back to the pair and sorted through the survival kit.

After a while, Rashid joined her at the wall. “Papa’s finishing Taaj’s feeding bag.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” Rashid said, his voice rough with fatigue. He rubbed his eyes. “I had oat cakes while we rode on Taaj.”

“Want a place to sleep?” She scooted back, until her back bumped the wall, then patted her legs. “I’ve heard my lap is pretty comfortable.”