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“Son of a bitch,” Jamal gritted furiously under his breath.
He checked two more tents. Both were empty. He stayed low as he approached the tent where he’d shot a man from the helicopter. His breath eased out at finding the same man lying dead in the tent’s doorway. Shooting from the air, even with his skill and the aid of a spotlight, was unpredictable at best.
Stepping over the dead body, he crouched low and listened for any sound before he drew the fabric aside and again jerked one way. It wasn’t necessary, this tent, too, was empty of life. Literally. He scanned the mess of crates, a couple of which had been opened, before his stare settled on Arif.
Jamal’s lip curled at the dead man, whose hairy and obese body was on full display. Going by his blood-smeared temple and the jug of wine close-by, he’d likely been bashed in the head.
Had Yasmine killed him? Hope surged. But as he looked around the empty tent, dread followed hot on its heels. She was nowhere to be seen. Coldness settled in the pit of his stomach, a sour taste filling his mouth. Had Arif raped her before she’d killed him?
His stomach rolled and he rocked back on his heels, his hands trembling.
Hold it together. Yasmine needs you.
Leaving the tent, he raced back to the helicopter and climbed inside. “Get us back into the air and circle the camp with the spotlight. My wife is still missing.”
The pilot pulled them up into the air, the spotlight dazzling with its intensity as it lit up a circular patch of the desert beneath.
They ignored the bodies of the men who lay scattered around the camp, the helicopter and its spotlight covering an ever-expanding area in an effort to find Jamal’s wife.
His heart wrenched. If he’d been wrong and Yasmine was dead he’d die himself. Life without her in it would be untenable. Unimaginable.
I love her.
His vision blurred and he couldn’t see anything for a moment beyond his grief. How had he stuffed things up so badly?Bad enough he’d questioned her for sending money to her dad. After all, Jamal had given her free rein to spend it how she wanted and that was exactly what she’d done. That he’d been angry at her father for using her was a secondary problem, one he should have addressed with Zameer.
He exhaled heavily. He’d never forget the look of horror on her face when he’d told her about her father’s gambling addiction and the real reason her dad had demanded such a large sum of money. The truth had hit her like a truck. But instead of comforting her like a loving husband, he’d taken her to bed for sex.
Even worse was that he’d pressured Yasmine into having a family, then raged at her for taking birth control pills and not wanting to be a mother. For fuck’s sake, she was all of twenty years of age. Of course she didn’t yet want to have a baby.
He dragged a hand over his face. He’d been an arrogant fool and Yasmine deserved better.If she ever forgave him it’d be a miracle.
“Is that the Sheikha?”
The pilot’s voice snapped Jamal out of his misery and regret. He peered at the parcel of desert lit up below, recognizing Yasmine’s inert form immediately. His throat dried, making his voice raspy. “That’s her. Get us to the ground.”
It seemed forever but would have only been minutes before the helicopter landed. Jamal jumped out and ran toward his wife, dropping to his knees and turning her onto her back. Her face was a mess of bruises and swelling, her blonde hair limp and stained with blood. His heart wrenched. “Yasmine, are you hurt? Talk to me!”
Her lashes flickering apart, she croaked, “Please tell me you shot all those men?”
Relief flooded through him. “Yes, I did. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Good.” She smiled weakly. “I knew you’d come for me.”
Her words both riddled him further with guilt and sparked his love for her even deeper. He didn’t deserve her gratitude.
“I think I like this uncivilized side you warned me about,” she added softly.
His heart twisted in his chest. He’d raze the world to the ground if needed to make it up to her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Yasmine was only half-aware of being lifted in Jamal’s powerful arms. She was too lost in his sandalwood and cinnamon scent, and the sense of calmness that followed. Even with his urgent, clipped instructions to someone her whole body was blessedly numb as she slumped against him, her emotions hazy.
Everything felt like an out-of-body experience, from the jostling motion as he climbed up into a seat and held her protectively against him, to the helicopter rotors roaring before they were lifted into the air.
He held a bottle to her lips and as cool water slipped past her dry lips and down her parched throat, she gulped at it greedily.
“Just a little bit for now.”
