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

“Hey, PJ, you are in the middle east. Why don’t you tell it the story of Aladdin and flying carpets?”

“Heads up, guys! If this is Miss Malone, she’s not looking too well. She appears to be walking with a limp and keeps stopping to hold her middle. Brock, did you bring your medic kit?”

“Sure did, hon. As soon as the bastard who hurt her is secure, I’m there.”

Talib was silent as the Americans traded comments back and forth. At the familiar use of endearments rather than PJ’s name, he started to get angry, but then he reminded himself that the use of endearments was more common in America than in Jawhara. Men commonly referred to women as ‘babe’ or ‘doll’; her teammates use of the terms ‘darlin’ and ‘hon’ were aggravating, but more than likely were part of their normal speech.

PJ continued her conversation, oblivious to the dilemma Talib was having in his head. “Good. Okay, here goes nothing. Talib, you’re going to have to interpret for me if he starts talking fast. My Arabic isn’t all that bad…”

“He won’t speak standard Arabic. The Sumari have their own dialect, which sounds much different. Don’t speak to him at all unless you have to and then use single words as much as possible.”

Chapter 14

Erin saw the tent and then the woman tending to the camel and almost fainted in relief. “Amir! Amir, please! Could you please see if they have any water to spare?”

Erin hesitated to ask anything from the man who had backhanded her so hard earlier that she was still seeing stars and had left her jaw throbbing something awful. Her nausea had taken over sometime during the night, and without any fluid in her stomach, she was now having dry heaves and very concerning cramping in her lower abdomen. She feared for the safety of her unborn child, and she had tried to refuse going any further without adequate water.

Amir’s response to that had been to hit her. He had then threatened to tie her over the back of the donkey if she gave him any more problems.

Amir turned on her, stalking back to her with menace in every step, “I told you we would drink when we reached the caves. If you weren’t so pathetic and weak we would have already arrived there.”

“Amir, please. I don’t know how much longer I can do this without something to drink.”

Amir gave her a disgusted look and then commanded, “Fine. But you will remain right here. I will go see if they have any water to spare.” Here was approximately fifty yards from the camp.

Amir dropped the donkey’s lead and Erin leaned against the tired animal, watching Amir approach the camp. She covertly looked around her, disheartened when all she saw was sand and more sand. Sighing, she rested her tired head on her arms, closing her eyes in an effort to stave off more dry heaves.

Her jaw was throbbing in time with her heartbeat and she longed to remove the heavy veil and assess the damage, but to do so would incur Amir’s wrath and he was not being nearly as patient with her today as he’d been the day before. Kamal, I hope someone is on their way to get me.

Another stomach cramp had her moaning softly and it was all she could do to stay on her feet and not give into the stabbing pain.

Amir approached the woman who appeared to be talking to a camel. She was dressed in the colorful garb of the Jawharan women and when she heard him approach, she quickly looked up and then averted her eyes. As any respectful female should do in the presence of a man!

Speaking in the dialect most commonly used in Jawhara, Amir called out a greeting, “Marhaban!”

PJ hid her surprise, and bid him a good morning softly in her best accent, “Sabah el kheer!” Not wanting to Brock having to speak further to the man, PJ quickly made her way to the door of the tent, calling inside for Talib.

Talib answered her, telling her to invite the man into the tent.

PJ kept her head lowered, but gestured for the man to approach the tent, she pulled the flap back as he approached and Talib called out to him.

Amir approached the tent, not overly concerned with the lack of communication from the female. Most middle eastern women did not feel comfortable talking to strange men. As he neared the tent, he glanced at the woman one more time, stopping as he caught of glimpse of her porcelain skin and... Blues eyes? What in the hell is going on here?!

Quickly backing up, he placed one hand upon the sheath of his knife, calling out for the occupant of the tent to show himself.

PJ watched in dismay as the target stepped away, his hand grasping his knife in preparation to fight. Awesome! Here we go!

She stepped away from the tent door, making sure to keep her eyes down and plenty of room to maneuver in case she needed to evade him before Talib showed himself.

She didn’t see the packs that had been on the camel’s back sitting in the sand right behind her, and her foot connected with them, sending her sprawling backwards just as Talib stuck his head out of the tent.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Her headdress slipped off, her blonde hair tumbling free, Amir pulled his knife, shouting obscenities and attempting to get back to his captive. Talib shouted for him to stand down and lower his weapon multiple times, but the young man wasn’t listening. I don’t want to kill him and prevent Kamal from exercising his right to do so! “Tawakaf makanak!” Talib tried once more before glancing out the corner of his eyes to see PJ struggling to stand back up. Seeing that she was managing just fine on her own, he started advancing towards the man, brandishing his own weapon of choice – a Glock semi-automatic handgun.

He didn’t want to shoot the man, and his erratic movement made Talib hesitate in regards to shooting him. He would not take any chances with possibly missing and hitting Erin instead!

PJ gained her feet, tossing the worthless scrap of fabric away from her and started flanking the young man. If she could get his attention focused on Talib, she might be able to reach the woman before he did.