The Sheik's Captive Bride (The Jawhara Sheikhs 3)

Talib stopped and watched her struggle with the delicate fabric, hiding his grin as she became more frustrated with each failed attempt.

Her long blonde hair was so soft and silky, the thin fabric continued to slide right off each time she lifted it over the crown of her head. Coming up behind her on silent feet, he stopped the fabrics descent, pressing his body close against hers as he lifted it back in place.

PJ felt his presence at the same time she felt his hands grasp the fabric. She barely contained the gasp that rose to her throat, instead focusing on his nearness and the response of her body. His scent swamped her, sending a riot of butterflies to swarm in her stomach and below.

“Allow me,” Talib softly told her as he reached over her shoulder to take the remaining fabric from her hands.

PJ let him take ownership of the headdress, not even protesting when he spun her to face him and proceeded to expertly wrap the fabric around her forehead and drape it around her shoulders. She watched his face, noticing the small scar that ran from the side of his right temple down to his jaw.

Not thinking about her actions, she lifted a hand to the scar and traced a single finger down its length, “What happened here?”

Talib closed his eyes at her soft touch, forcing his body to hold still and his hands to remain where they were. Opening his eyes, he met her gaze, shocked to see the compassion in them for an injury he had suffered as a young teen. “Nothing too treacherous, I assure you. A foolish stunt undertaken by a young adult who should have known better. Khalil and I attempted to emulate one of your rodeo acts – calf roping. Unfortunately, the young cow we were attempting to rope headed for the fence. I was so focused on holding onto the small calf; I didn’t see the fence until I had been rammed head first into it.”

PJ smiled at him, “Good thing you weren’t trying bull riding.”

Talib laughed with her, “A very good thing. Now,” Talib took a step back from her and then gestured for her to twirl for him. “Very nice. The only thing you must remember is to keep your eyes down when facing others. Your eyes give away your heritage.”

PJ nodded, “I’ll remember. Is everything else ready?”

“Yes. We should go. Sheikh Kamal will be in contact with the other team. Once they are in place and have everything set up, they will contact us. I would like to be on the road back to Jawhara before that happens.

“I have my men here tracking the two figures we spotted earlier via satellite. They are still more than a mile from the Sumari border and both figures were last seen walking.”

“Is that healthy for Miss Malone?” PJ asked, thinking of how sick she had been.

“I don’t think any of this is healthy for her. The faster we make contact and can get her away from the kidnapper, the better.”

PJ nodded, “Well, I’m ready. Let’s go find her.”

Talib escorted PJ from the palace and to the waiting vehicle. Two of his most trusted security personnel would be escorting them to the border and returning the vehicle back to the palace. Sheikh Kamal had authorized an appropriate “gift” be given to the nomads for their assistance and the crates and sacks of produce and meat had already been loaded into the back of the vehicle.

Talib took his position in the passenger seat of the vehicle, but only after assuring himself that PJ was comfortably installed in the back seat. The second man would act as the sentry, maintaining and armed lookout during their journey.

“How long will it take us to reach the border?” PJ asked.

“About forty-five minutes.”

“Okay.” PJ hid her yawn behind her hand, not wanting to give in to the exhaustion that had been threatening to overtake her most of the afternoon. She and the other Americans had landed in country in the early pre-dawn hours. When word had reached them that a convoy was headed to the refugee camp, along with Miss Malone, the team had volunteered to go along before getting some much needed rest.

That had been over eight hours ago, and jetlag was beginning to make itself known in an undeniable way.

Talib watched the tiredness sweep into PJ’s eyes through the rearview mirror. Turning around to meet her eyes, he softly spoke to her, “Take a small nap.” When she started to argue, he cut her off and insisted, “I need you to be alert once we head out. I can see the tiredness in your eyes. Take a small nap, I promise to wake you once we arrive.”

PJ wanted to argue some more, but the urge to give in and close her eyes was too attractive to ignore. Nodding her head, she gave him a brief smile and then leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She had learned many things during her time in the service, but the value of the catnap was one of the most useful. A twenty minute nap could provide her with enough energy to keep going for another ten hours if need be.

She drifted off to sleep, the images of the young guard and Miss Malone replaying themselves in her mind. She wanted to make sure she could positively identify them both when the time came. Her last thoughts were of the mysterious dark eyes of her partner on this mission. The black lashes that framed his dark brown eyes, the deep tan of his skin and the luxurious black hair that just begged to have hands running through it were an attractive package; one she looked forward to becoming better acquainted with once this mission was over. For now – retrieving Miss Malone was the focus. There would be plenty of time for her hormones to rule her actions. Later.

Chapter 7

Talib watched the sleeping beauty in his rearview mirror, ignoring the questioning glances of the security guard doing the driving. She looked very young and he had a hard time reconciling the tough security operative with the beautiful woman asleep behind him; the one with the

porcelain smooth skin, long blonde hair – currently obscured by her veil, and the crystal blue eyes he knew lay behind her closed eyelids.

He could still smell her shampoo, the lemon scent mixed with herbs reaching his senses from the rear of the vehicle. When he had assisted her with the headdress, he had fought the desire to run his hands through her hair and to see if her skin was as smooth as it appeared.

His libido had been in overdrive since his first sight of her earlier in the day. Now that he was tasked with spending time alone with her in the middle of the Jawharan-Sumari desert, he doubted his ability to maintain his distance for very long.

He wanted to know more about this intriguing woman, including what demons drove her to keep up with the other men on her team rather than be content with her place in the world as a beautiful woman. If she were his, he would pamper her, making sure she always knew how beautiful she was to him.