AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She shuddered. She had no idea where she even was. He’d mentioned something about a gorge. Were they in Zokar? What if he tried to force her into an arranged marriage? How the heck would she stop him?
Panic bumped against her breastbone as she raced through every possible scenario, each one scarier and more horrifying than the last. She breathed through it, her head starting to ache with the struggle to remain calm, focussed and decisive.
Zokar might not be as developed as her father’s kingdom, but it was not unsophisticated. Just like that of Narabia, the economy had thrived in the last twenty years after the decision to mine its vast mineral wealth and it had begun to open itself to the world.
She thought of Kamal, dressed in a tuxedo at the Race of Kings reception. And later, in his bed-chamber, as he had stroked her to orgasm with a care and attention she had not expected. He was not an uncivilised man, however badly he had behaved this morning.
She had to believe that.
Her head continued to ache, along with every other part of her anatomy after their never-ending ride.
Stop panicking and start thinking, Liah. Because you’re the only one who can get yourself out of this mess.
But as she glared at the ceiling of the unfamiliar tent, and the circular hole in the top used to allow cooling air into the space, it was hard to keep the fury at bay when it replaced the panic. Shooting stars flared across the inky blue above, a flash of brightness which instantly flickered and died. Unlike her temper, which was liable to blaze for a long time to come.
Stolen!
There was no other term for what he had done to her. Because she had not gone with him willingly—and she had certainly made that crystal clear in every way she could.
Perhaps he’d convinced himself he was rescuing her from a possible sandstorm. Kidnapping her for her own good, or some such nonsense. But they both knew that was just an excuse. And a pathetic one at that.
The storm wasn’t due to hit until tomorrow—and, even if it had hit today, she would have been fine. She’d seen the storms before, maybe not in an encampment, but the desert tribes survived them so why shouldn’t she?
Rolling over, she forced herself out of the bed, found the facilities at the back of the chamber and washed the trail dust off her face.
He’d left her clothed, at least, although her riding robe was now filthy and sweaty. In the outer chamber she found the bag she’d packed intending to head back to the palace. She dressed quickly in a pair of loose trousers and a T-shirt, then caught the scent of something rich, spicy and delicious.
Her stomach growled like that of a starving lion.
The realisation she hadn’t eaten since the night before did not help control her fury because that was Kamal’s fault too. But she hesitated before charging out of the tent to demand to be fed and then returned to the Golden Palace, ASAP.
For once, you need to be strategic.
Having a temper tantrum now would just give Kamal another excuse to treat her like an unruly kid. She took several deep breaths which, while they didn’t do much to control her fury, did manage to stop her from marching out all guns blazing and giving the man who had kidnapped her yet more reasons to be a self-righteous jerk.
She lifted the tent flap slowly, to survey her surroundings.
She spotted Kamal instantly, crouched by the camp fire about ten feet away. His handsome features looked even harsher and more unreadable in the orange glow of the firelight.
Handsome? When did you start thinking he was handsome? He’s not handsome—he’s a flipping kidnapper.
But even so she felt the familiar flicker of reaction as she studied him.
‘Know your enemy’ was something she’d read in books, but it felt remarkably appropriate now if she were to have any chance of getting out of this mess without ending up unintentionally married, or triggering an international incident between Narabia and its nearest neighbour.
As much as her first instinct was to flee the first chance she got later tonight, saddle up Ashreen while Kamal slept, find her own way back to Narabia and her family and forget this had ever happened, she could already see that course of action was fraught with danger.
She didn’t know where she was. She had no means of navigation. And, despite having a first from Cambridge in the politics and history of the Nazar Desert kingdoms—which encompassed Narabia, Zafar, Zokar and the surrounding land—she had absolutely no experience of life in the desert, apart from the occasional overnight stay in the luxury accommodation supplied by her father.
She could die, lost out in the desert alone. And even she wasn’t reckless and impulsive enough to put her life in danger—no matter how mad she was right now—which meant she would have to find a way to reason with the man who had kidnapped her. A man who seemed about as reasonable as a force-ten hurricane.
He didn’t look her way, although she knew he had sensed her watching him from the way his stubbly jaw clenched.
She took the opportunity to study him, unobserved. The first thing she noticed was the way he was squatting on his haunches. It looked uncomfortable. But she’d seen her uncle Raif, the ruler of the Kholadi tribe, sit the same way whenever he was with his tribesmen. He’d once told her it was the most comfortable way to sit if you wanted to stay cool.
Did Kamal’s stance provide some clues to his mysterious past? Strangely, despite her fury with him and the way he had treated her, her curiosity hadn’t abated in the slightest. But maybe that was a good thing, because it might help her to figure out a way to persuade him what he’d done was abhorrent. And, given his arrogance, she suspected she was going to have an uphill battle persuading him anything he did was not okay. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to talk to him tonight without losing her temper, though. She was still too angry with him.
Her stomach chose that moment to growl so loudly, she suspected it could probably be heard back at the Golden Palace.
