A burst of guttural Arabic from the doorway cut her off as a crowd of armed men burst in. Rafiq stepped in front of her, shielding her, and she realized with a horror that paralyzed her vocal cords that she knew them.
The scrawny one with the malicious smile. And the towering giant, with his brawny hand grasping a long bladed knife. She’d never forget him. He was the one who’d broken Duncan’s leg as easily as snapping a twig. She stared up into his cold eyes and shivered as a flood of nausea swamped her. She pressed a trembling hand against Raflq’s back, as if she could absorb some of his strength.
`What do you want, Selim?’ Rafiq cut across whatever their leader was saying. `Have you come to pay your respects to your sheikh?’
The man he addressed gaped for a moment, eyes wide in his pudgy face. Then he drew his lips into a snarling line and took a step closer. His entourage crowded beside him. Belle realized now that there were only four of them. Still enough to overpower Rafiq and herself far too easily. Especially as they were unarmed.
Selim spoke again, a belligerent flow of words she had no hope of understanding. But there was no need for translation. Their situation was clear, and all too hopeless. This had to be Rafiq’s kinsman, the man who’d masterminded her kidnap and the other recent acts of violence in the hope of destabilizing Q’aroum’s government and grabbing power for himself.
She looked at his smug expression, the signs of dissipation on his fleshy countenance, and shivered. Here was a man who’d be utterly ruthless in pursuit of his own ends.
Àh, yes,’ said Rafiq coolly, once more interrupting his cousin. À
transfer of power. And how much more convincing it would be if I were alive and apparently willing to participate.’
Selim smiled then, with all the charm of an alligator watching its next meal. He obviously liked the sound of his own voice, Belle decided, as he held the floor again. And that self-satisfied smirk sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine. It looked just as lethal as the weapons his henchmen brandished.
Wretchedly she wondered how long it would be before the help Rafiq had promised would arrive. Each second dragged with excruciating slowness. It seemed a lifetime since this group had burst in on them, but common sense told her it couldn’t be more than a couple of minutes.
Play for time. That was what Rafiq had said. That must be why he was encouraging his cousin to talk.
But unfortunately Selim was no fool. The realization had no sooner surfaced in her mind than he was gesturing to his followers that it was time to go. One of them left the tent and the other two stepped forward, one towards Rafiq and the other, the hulking brute whose bruise she’d worn for so long, coming for her, his eyes alight with sadistic satisfaction. Involuntarily she caught her breath, and pressed closer to Rafiq.
He shifted his weight, half turning so that he faced the giant who was reaching for her. He said something in his native tongue with a soft deadliness that brought her kidnap-per to a startled halt. Then she saw the speculation in the other man’s eyes, and a glitter of excitement that made her heart sink.
`We will go with you,’ Rafiq added in English. `But no one touches my wife.’
For an instant the tableau held. Over Rafiq’s rigid shoulder she saw the three men frozen in place, an automatic reaction to the commanding hauteur of his words. Then Selim spat out something short and vulgar enough to make his bully-boys snigger, and the big one reached out a long arm towards her.
There was a sudden swift movement. Rafiq stepped forward to meet him, and the next thing she knew the other man was on his knees, clutching his midriff.
There was a hiss of comment from his comrade, who lifted his handgun to point it directly at Rafiq, and Belle shouted out a hoarse warning.
`Quiet, bitch,’ Selim snarled in accented English. Òne scream from you and you’ll see your precious husband die before your eyes.’
Belle had no doubt he meant it. Nausea welled in her throat as her gaze flicked from his ruthless expression to the gun pointed at Rafiq. There was nothing she could do. Nothing but wait and watch this drama play out, praying that they’d both survive.
The tall man rose to his feet with a lurch and a grunt, and suddenly she knew just how unlikely it was that they’d survive. There was murder in his eyes as he looked at her husband. Selim snapped out an order, but the other man didn’t react.
Instead he drew himself up to his full, enormous height and lifted the curved knife in his hand.
`Rafiq!’ Her anguished whisper was drowned by Selim, as he barked another command to his sidekick. But it was too late. The big man was circling, one hand gripping his dagger as he focused on Rafiq.