The Sheik and the Slave
Page 33
“Any sign of Yasmeen?” Mohammed asked the older woman, his quiet voice belying his simmering anger.
“No, my lord. But she did disappear about the same time Lady Katharine went missing. I can’t help but think Yasmeen is involved in her disappearance,” Bashasha confessed.
Mohammed nodded.
“I agree. Have the riders discovered anything?” he asked about the men who had been sent across the desert to scout for Katharine.
“No, my lord. I am sorry, but no word yet has been heard from them.”
Mohammed shuddered and lowered his head. “Leave me,” he said.
“Please my lord, let me stay with you,” she requested. Bashasha feared for his peace of mind.
“Leave me,” he told her coldly.
***
Katharine had no way of knowing, as she stepped away from Fajer and Yasmeen, that she walked into even greater peril. A desert sandstorm was brewing. The storms were known to be dangerous and even life-threatening.
Sandstorms were common in the desert regions, and a storm could move large volumes of sand unexpectedly. If dust or sand entered the body, it could cause illness; untreated sand in the eyes could lead to blindness.
The sand swirled and twisted around her and she recalled the harem women talking about the danger of the storm. Katharine continued to walk through the sand until it became impossible. The sand spit into her eyes, her mouth, her hair, and her ears. Katharine knew she would die in this cursed desert, never to be found. She fell to her knees and then collapsed. Her last thought before she sank into oblivion wasn’t of the green trees of England or the deserts of Arabia; it was about the dark, sensuous eyes of Mohammed, and his mouth as he kissed her.
***
Yasmeen arched her body as one of the Moors settled his large muscular body over her delicate one. With no words or preliminaries, he had thrust her legs apart and shoved his large cock inside her. She had fallen asleep directly after the night’s fun, so her cunt was still filled with the Moor’s sperm and her own juices. The Moor grunted as his cock filled her, and Yasmeen cried lightly as not to wake the other two men, although secretly, she wanted to wake the other two and have a repeat of the night before. The Moor grasped her honey-colored thighs hard as he continued to pound into her.
***
The two teenagers were fighting as they returned to the large main tent in the desert.
“I think she’s dead!” said the younger, Bikr. At twelve years old, he was given to exaggerations and enjoyed making scenes to embarrass his mother and father.
“She’s not dead, Bikr. She’s alive and we need to tell Father,” spoke the older, Saber. Saber was 15 years old and his father’s pride and joy. As Bikr scampered off to find more trouble, Saber went to find his father.
Saber and his father Majeed remained seated on their camels as they looked at the form half-covered in sand. She was almost buried and her face was underneath her arm. She looked ragged. Both men couldn’t guess how long she had been in the desert.
“A woman from another tribe?” asked young Saber.
“Could be,” Majeed said, nodding at his son’s question. There were many Bedouin tribes such as his that wandered the desert. Some were linked by family, and others by marriage, but rarely did anyone venture into the great desert when a sandstorm was upon them; they knew better. This storm that passed had been raging for two days.
“Why would she go out in such a storm, Father?” asked Saber.
“Perhaps she was lost,” Majeed said. He dismounted and Saber followed. “We’ll take her to the camp and allow the women to attend her.”
Majeed walked to the form and knelt beside her. When he turned her over in his arms, Saber gasped. Majeed looked down at the woman he held and was also shocked. The woman had golden-blonde hair that blended into the desert’s sands, and her skin was the color of cream. Her face was lovely and, against his will, Majeed could feel himself stir.
He lifted her easily and settled himself and the girl on his camel.
“Come, Saber,” he said.
Rana, the first and only wife of Sheik Majeed, was charged to look after the young girl. Since Rana had given Majeed two sons and a daughter, Majeed had never thought to take any more wives. He had only ever wanted sons to help and continue with his tribal duties, and Rana had done her duty by providing him sons. Since Majeed was not a sexual man, he was content to rule over his tribe with only one wife. In addition, he knew of
many sheiks who had large harems and many wives, and the trouble the women caused was not worth the sexual pleasure.
Rana’s brothers and their families lived with them, and together with all the offspring, they lived a nomadic existence. As the tribal leader, Majeed was intelligent and thoughtful, though he owed allegiance to his father’s family as well as his wife’s.
Rana bathed the girl and dressed her in a simple dark blue abaya. As Katharine slept, Rana bathed the girl’s forehead with cool cloths and tried to keep her comfortable.