The Desert Sheikh's Innocent Queen: King of the Desert, Captive Bride

“What happened in Ozr?” Sheikh Fehr asked abruptly. “What did they do to you?”

Liv jerked her attention away from the landscape below. “Nothing,” she answered quickly, too quickly, and from the creasing of the sheikh’s eyes, she knew he knew it, too.

“Ozr isn’t a nice place,” he said. “I can’t imagine they were nice to you.”

She suddenly pictured her life of the past four long weeks. The terrible food, the lack of sunlight, the lack of exercise, the taunts, the accusations and the endless middle-of-the-night interrogations. “I’m here now.”

His jaw tightened. “Barely,” he answered quietly, his gaze meeting hers.

She suppressed a shiver and turned away, unable to hold his intense gaze, or dwell on her weeks in Ozr. She was out now. That’s what mattered. She was out and soon she’d be going home.

“The view is beautiful from here,” she said, determinedly turning her attention to the landscape below.

He gestured toward the stretch of brown and beige beneath them. “That’s the Great Sarq Desert. It begins in Southern Jabal and stretches through much of Sarq, my country, and is one of the largest deserts in Northern Africa, consisting of thousands of miles.”

“I’ve read quite a bit about the Great Sarq Desert,” she said shyly but eagerly. “I read that thousands of years ago the desert was once a lush tropical landscape, that there are elaborate rock paintings in the mountains depicting everyday life. Is that true?”

He nodded. “Yes, and scattered oases are all that’s left of that ancient tropical landscape.”

“Oases used by traders and their caravans,” she added, her gaze glued to the empty plains below. “Before the trip I was reading a book on the area, and it said that in ancient civilization the desert here was the corridor that linked Africa with the coast, and the world beyond. Everyone utilized the desert corridor. The Romans, the Phoenicians, as well as the early Greek colonists—” She broke off, flushing. “But of course you know all that. It’s just … new … to me.”

The look her gave her was frankly appraising. “I didn’t know American women cared about geography so far from their own homes.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You can’t judge America, or Americans, by what you read in the news.”

“No?” he mocked.

“No.” She held her breath for a moment, battling her temper. “Just like it’d be unfair of me to judge all the countries in this area by what happened to me in Ozr.”

The rest of the flight passed in silence. Liv tried to blank her mind, desperate to ignore the questions and worrying thoughts racing through her head. She leaned back in her chair and turned her attention to the landscape below and for a short while, it provided the much-needed distraction.

The vast desert, with its contrasting hues of tan and orange, burnt amber and rust, maroon and even a few shades of purple, held her captivated as flat expanses of sand gave way to gently rising sand dunes, which led to even higher hills. She’d never thought the desert could have so many contrasting colors. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

Before long the hills completely disappeared and desert sand gave way to the Red Sea, the deep turquoise colors a vivid contrast to the view they had left behind. Liv was again craning her head to see out the window as they flew over the coast of the African continent. Brilliant blue water sparkled below as it suddenly dawned on her that they weren’t headed to Sarq but a different destination.

It had to be Dubai, she thought. It was one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the Middle East and a place very far removed from Jabal. “Are we headed to Dubai?” she asked, as the plane tilted slightly, giving her a wider view of the Arabian Peninsula looming on the horizon.

“No, we’re going to Baraka. I have friends there and you’d be safe. But tell me, how is it that a girl from a small Southern town knows so much about the Middle East?”

“I pour over travel brochures all day,” she said, but from his expression she could see he didn’t understand. “I’m a travel agent,” she added.

“So you’re a world traveler.”

She shook her head regretfully. “No. I don’t usually travel. I just book trips for other people. This is my first real trip. Until now I’d never been out of the U.S.”

Suddenly the nose of the plane tipped and they seemed to be changing direction again. Sheikh Fehr frowned and reached for his seat belt. The flight attendant moved toward them at the same time.

She knelt at his side and spoke quietly in Arabic. “The pilot said we’ve a problem. We’re dangerously low on petrol. We need to land almost immediately. Fortunately we’ve been given permission to land in Cairo.”

“Good. Thank you,” Khalid answered, glancing at Olivia, knowing that things were beginning to get a little more complicated than he liked.

By being diverted at the last minute from Baraka to Egypt he wouldn’t be able to process Olivia swiftly. He’d planned on having her checked out by a doctor then put on a private jet to New York tonight. Instead they were landing in Cairo, which meant they’d need to find a place to stay, and since he couldn’t use his preferred pilot and jet, nor the doctor he normally used, he’d need to find another way to get her quickly and quietly attended to. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be today, or tonight.

Olivia turned just then to look at him, her blue eyes wide, almost pinched, in her pale oval face. She was still wearing her headscarf, but the fabric was loose around her neck, exposing her delicate features.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, fear in her voice, the same fear that made her eyes turn to lapis.

“We’ve had a change of plans,” he answered.

Her forehead creased. “Another? Why? What’s happened?”

“Out of petrol, or as you Americans call it, gas. So we’re landing in Egypt instead of Baraka.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but her sudden smile stunned her, her blue eyes widening with excitement. “Egypt?” she repeated. “I was on my way to Egypt when I was arrested. Will we have time to see the pyramids in Giza?”

“Unfortunately not. We’ll be landing and hopefully taking off as soon as we refuel. We need to get to Baraka tonight.”

Her gaze searched his as if trying to see what he wasn’t telling her. “Why?”

“You want to go home, don’t you?”

She nodded slowly, clearly puzzled. “But if we don’t make it out tonight, we’ll just go tomorrow, right?”

He wasn’t ready to tell her that things were a lot more complicated than she knew.

For the past ten years he’d operated his version of an underground railroad. He specialized in rescuing innocent people and he’d enlisted some powerful friends to help him. People like Sheikh Kalen Nuri, the younger brother of Baraka’s King Malik Nuri, and Sheikh Tair, leader of the independent state Ouaha.

In the past few years Kalen and Tair had helped him with dozens of impossible rescues, and they’d pledged to help with Olivia’s, but first they had to get to Baraka.

“We want to reach Baraka tonight,” he said tersely, unwilling to give up his initial goal. “I need to make a few calls,” he added, rising from his seat. “Relax, try to get a little sleep. I will be able to tell you more once we’re on the ground.”

Twenty minutes later they touched down, the jet landing so smoothly that Liv didn’t even realize they were on the ground until the pilot began to brake, slowing the jet’s speed.

After taxiing to the terminal the jet sat on the tarmac, not far from the executive terminal. Khalid didn’t appear and the pilot hadn’t emerged from the cockpit.

Liv, seeing the flight attendant on the plane phone, flagged her down. “Are we refueling?” she asked.

But before the flight attendant could answer, Sheikh Fehr walked from the cockpit back to Liv’s seat.

“We’re staying in Cairo tonight,” he said. “I’ve a car waiting. Let’s go.”

Liv shot him an uneasy glance. He was angry. She felt his tension wash over her in dark brooding waves. Something had happened. Something not good.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, unbuckling her seat belt and rising to her feet. From her window she could see a black car outside, waiting not far from the plane.

“We can talk later,” he answered, extending a hand, his black robe with the gold embroidery swirling. “Come. Traffic will be heavy. We need to go.”

She put her fingers in his, shuddering at the sharp hot spark that passed between them. She wanted very much to take her hand back but was afraid of upsetting him.