The Sheikh and the Bought Bride. Susan Mallery
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He glanced at Victoria, taking in the perfect profile, the fullness of her mouth. This woman would not be content to be anything but a man’s true match, he thought. She would expect her opinion to matter. She would want to talk about everything. Her feelings, her plans, her life. It was more than a prince should have to bear. She would—
He glanced at her again and noticed the slight tremor in her cheek. As if her teeth had been tightly clenched for some time. She was pale and had her hands tightly clasped. He caught it then, the bitter scent.
Fear.
The knowledge made him weary. He was not cruel enough to allow her to terrorize herself with her concerns.
“Nothing will happen until we arrive at the village,” he said sharply.
Her breath caught. He felt her glance at him. “H-how long will that take?”
“Three days. Very few people know the place. It’s beautiful, at least I find it so. Like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
He hoped she wouldn’t ask what would happen when they did finally arrive. He had no answer for that. He had taken her because she had offered herself in exchange for her father and the desert law respected a noble sacrifice. But to what end? Did he really plan to take her for his mistress?
He looked at her again. She wore jeans and ridiculous boots with high heels. The shirt was made of some clingy fabric that seemed to hug her breasts. He forced himself to return his attention to the road.
He found her attractive and would enjoy her in his bed, but he was reluctant to commit to longer than a single night. Which meant he was going to have to find something else for Victoria to do.
“I, uh, thought the people of the desert were nomadic,” she said.
“Many are, but many also enjoy life in the desert and do not feel compelled to move from camp to camp. The village provides the best of both worlds.”
“I hope I brought enough sunscreen,” she murmured.
“We will send for more if you did not,” he told her.
“So you don’t plan to stake me out in the sun and let the ants eat me alive?”
“This is not the Old West,” said Kateb, bemused.
“I know, but it’s still a pretty gruesome punishment. Hanging would be faster.”
“There is less opportunity for a rescue with a hanging.”
“Good point.”
The fear had faded. Now he could smell her perfume, or maybe just the scent of her body. Either way it pleased him and in being pleased, he was annoyed.
Kateb sighed. It was going to be a long six months.
They made two brief stops for water and bathroom breaks. Victoria was thrilled they used something very close to a rest area, although she had a bad feeling the amenities were going to get worse before they got better.
Just before sunset they stopped for the night and made camp. Several tents were put up along with what looked like sleeping bags and bedrolls. Two men went to work over a large camp stove while another set up something that looked suspiciously like a gas barbecue.
Kateb came up beside her. “You look concerned. Are the facilities not to your liking?”
She guessed he was seeking information rather than offering to change anything on her behalf. She pointed at the stove. “I thought there would be an open fire and we’d be cooking food on sticks.”
That single eyebrow raised again. “Where would we get fuel for the fire?”
She glanced around at the campsite. They’d backed in the trucks, butting them up against a cliff. There were a few sad-looking shrubs, but nothing that could pass for logs or even sticks.
“True.”
“The stoves are more efficient. They heat quickly and there is little danger from fire.”
“There’s not that much to burn.”
“There is us.”
“Oh. Right.” She looked at the men working quickly by the stove. “Should I offer to help? At the castle the chefs were very fussy about who they allowed in their kitchen. They let me rinse off berries once.” Which she’d apparently done incorrectly because one of the cooks had muttered something under his breath and grabbed the basket from her.
“Why would you help?”
“They’re staff, I’m staff. It’s polite to offer.”
“You are not expected to cook the meal.”
Right. Because she was expected to provide other services. Her stomach tightened, which she ignored, along with any thoughts about sharing Kateb’s bed. That was for later. When they arrived at the mysterious desert village. For now she was safe.
She glanced at him, at the proud set of his head, at the deep scar on his cheek. Kateb ruled the desert. He could do what he would like with her and no one would stop him. Which made safe a relative term. She took a step back.
“I’ve never been camping,” she said. “This is nice. Desert life is more modern than I would have thought.”
“This is not desert life. This is efficient transportation. To be in the desert is to be one with the land. It is to travel with camels and horses, bringing only what you need, knowing what you forget you do without. There is beauty deep in the desert, but danger as well.”
Her gaze was drawn to his scar. She’d heard rumors that he’d been attacked as a teenager, but she never learned the details. Asking hadn’t seemed important. Her total knowledge about Kateb would barely fill a good-sized e-mail. If she’d known she was going to be spending some serious time in his company, she would have asked more questions.
One of the men brought over two folding chairs, setting them in the shade. Victoria wasn’t sure of protocol, but she waited until Kateb was seated before sitting down herself. When the man returned with two bottles of water, she accepted one gratefully.
“I grew up in Texas,” she said, more to fill the silence than because she thought he was interested. “A little town between Houston and Dallas. It was nothing like this, although it could get hot in the summer. There weren’t a lot of trees, so when people were outside, there wasn’t anywhere to go to escape the sun. I remember summer storms racing through. I would stand out in the rain, spinning and spinning. Not that the rain cooled things off very much.”
“Did you like living there?”
“I didn’t know anything else. My dad would disappear for weeks at a time. Mom missed him when he was gone, but I liked that it was just the two of us. It felt safer. Then he would come back, sometime with a lot of money, sometimes broke and driving on fumes. Either way she was happy—until he left again.”
That was a long time ago, she thought sadly. But she remembered everything about those days.
“When did she die?”
“On my seventeenth birthday.”
Victoria didn’t want to think about that. “She worked two jobs most of the time. She did hair during the day and worked at a bar at night. She used to talk about us opening a beauty shop together. I never wanted to tell her that I was just waiting to turn eighteen to leave.”
“Where did you go?”
“Dallas.” She smiled at the memory. “It was really the big city for me. I got a job, enrolled in community college and worked my butt off. I started off waitressing at a diner, then moved up to nicer places. I made a lot with tips and when I got my associates degree, I found a job as an administrative assistant.”
“Why not a four-year degree?”
“Have you