The Sheikh's Disobedient Bride

“I can’t drop everything every time you decide it’s time to run away again.”

“Dropeverything? Sheikh Tair, forgive me, but no one here does anything but drink tea and play dice.”

“It’s not dice and we don’t just drink tea. My men all have specific jobs they do.”

“That’s right. They have guns to clean.” She clapped a hand to her forehead. “Silly me. How could I forget?”

“Every time I set off, my men accompanied me until I sent them back. Every time I left camp to look for you we took risks and if you don’t appreciate me, you better damn well appreciate my men.”

Tears filled her eyes and furiously she rubbed them away. “You keep acting as though I should be grateful you kidnapped me from the medina. But I didn’t ask to have my life turned upside down. I didn’t ask for any of this, not even your protection!”

“But that’s not true. You came to our world, we didn’t go to yours.”

And that, Tally thought, shoulders slumping, was a most excellent point.

She walked away from him, a fist pressed to her mouth as she realized for the first time how this all must seem to him. He wasn’t Western, he wasn’t anything like the men in her world, and the rules here were so different. If as he said, she was traveling with dangerous men, he’d done what he’d thought was right, behaved fairly, protectively.

She focused on one of the wool pillows lying on the low bed. It was a beautiful pattern, handwoven. “How could you leave me in the quicksand so long?” Her voice broke and a lump filled her throat. “I could have died.”

Tair didn’t immediately answer and she closed her eyes as the silence stretched. Then she felt his hand touch her back, his palm warm, firm.

“Is that what this is really about?” he asked. “That I made you ask for help?”

She wiped away one tear and then another. “Maybe.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her around. “All you had to do was ask for help. It was your impulsiveness that got you into trouble in the first place. You ran off. You were just lucky I decided to go search for you.”

Lucky, huh? Tally sniffed. “If I’d been lucky I wouldn’t have been in the medina when you were. If I were lucky you would have kidnapped some other poor Western woman. That’s my definition of luck.”

He shrugged, but in his eyes was a glimmer of a smile. “Perhaps it’s a cultural difference, but to be given the gift of life—not just once, but twice—that’s good fortune.”

“You’re speaking of the two times you saved me.”

“Three now.”

She stared up into his hard, arrogant features. Big nose, dark eyes, fierce mouth. And strangely—beautiful. God, she hated him. And wanted him. And hated herself for still finding him so attractive, despite everything that had taken place between them. “I don’t know that you saved me three times,” she answered, striving to sound cool. “The first time you’d almost killed me so I don’t know if that counts.”

The corners of his mouth tugged. “To show you I am a fair man, I am willing to compromise and will agree that according to your definition, I’ve only saved your life twice.”

Tally hid her own reluctant smile, cleared her throat. “Since we’re trying to be accurate, I think it should be mentioned that your rescue today would have been more heroic if you hadn’t waited until I nearly slid all the way under.”

He sighed and yet the heavy sigh was contradicted by the warmth in his eyes. “I’ve never met a woman that demands so much and expresses so little gratitude.”

“We’re talking about my life, Sheikh Tair!”

“Then ask for help, Woman. Don’t wait until the grains of sand fill your nose. Ask for help while you still have air to speak with.”

And then his head dropped and he covered her mouth with his once again, his lips coaxing and she didn’t need much encouragement. Her mouth loved the feel of his, her body wanted him and her arms slid up around his neck as she kissed him back.

They were interrupted by a shout outside the tent, the voice raised in alarm.

Tair pulled away and turned to leave but not before he pressed a swift kiss to her brow. “I shall return for dinner. Wait for me.”

Tally watched from her tent as men gathered around Tair in the deepening twilight. He was gesturing, speaking, giving orders. Some men began to saddle up while others packed bags. They were going somewhere and they had guns.