By the time Jed stretched his long, muscular frame upon his bedroll later that night, he was in a much better state of mind than he had been all day. It wasn’t going to be impossible to ignore Vicky, after all, he asserted, a satisfied grin seizing his mouth, and the taste of zabeeb lingering on his palate.
Of course, it would have been a whole sight easier if he had behaved himself to begin with. It had been outright foolish to go to the pool when she was bathing, and danged reckless to kiss her. But still, he had managed to survive the day without succumbing altogether, and for that he was thankful.
Oh, there might have been a few instances when he had been tempted to surrender. Despite his best intentions, he had not been able to resist touching her when he had brought her the remedy for sunburn. Yet, when he had caught himself becoming faintly aroused by what he was doing, he had been strong enough to walk away, no matter how much he had wanted to stay.
Dinner, too, had been a dangerous situation. Sitting there watching her pick at her food and glance up at him nervously had nearly prompted him to assure her that she had nothing to fear from him. But he had managed to hold his tongue and the meal had proceeded, a strained affair at best. As a result, the tension that had hung in the air became a wedge driving Vicky and him further apart, in spite of Ali’s attempts to initiate conversation.
Afterward, when the cookware had been washed and stored away, it had been easy enough to keep himself distracted. There were chores to be seen to before their departure prior to dawn. And when Vicky had timidly come forward asking how she could help, he had assigned her jobs that would take her well away from him.
While it hadn’t escaped his notice that Vicky had engaged in easy conversation with Ali, the pair sharing a laugh or two, he had happily been able to disregard it by concentrating on cleaning his pistol and the rifle usually slung from his saddle. He was to be commended for his restraint, Jed thought, even as he pushed the image of Victoria’s fair head bent toward Ali’s dark one from his mind.
Now, however, everyone had finally settled in for the night, Vicky’s bedroll tactfully moved to the other side of the campfire. Consciously keeping his eyes on the stars overhead, Jed offered himself hearty if silent congratulations for replacing lust with caution.
He’d make a push to reach Cairo as quickly as Ali’s injury would allow. Surely, if tonight was any indication, he’d have little trouble keeping Vicky at arm’s length until then.
Contented, he shifted to his side so that it would be the sight of the desert that greeted him, and not Vicky, should he open his eyes. He was just drifting off to sleep, when soft movement in the middle of the camp sent adrenaline speeding through his body. Jed’s senses came rapidly alert and his muscles tensed. Yet only silence followed. He had found himself in peril too many times in the past, however, to ignore the warning signal his sixth sense had sent him.
Casually rolling over, as though in sleep, Jed turned to the campfire, his fingers tightening on the pistol he kept beside him. Slowly, he opened one eye, his body prepared to react.
The sight he encountered shook him. Here he was poised to kill and the only figure visible in the dim glow of the campfire was Vicky Shaw.
What the blazes was the woman up to now? he wondered cantankerously until he saw her slight form shift to pull her blanket closer against the chill of the desert night. He swore he could even hear her teeth chatter as he lay watching her.
Tarnation! What had he just been telling himself about keeping the woman at a distance? It would appear his self-congratulations had been premature. Propping himself up on one elbow, he heaved a mighty sigh, silently cussing what he was about to do. But now that he had witnessed Vicky’s distress, Jed found it impossible to turn his back on her.
“Come here,” he called begrudgingly. He raised a corner of his blanket and indicated an empty spot atop his bedroll.
It took Victoria a moment to adjust her eyes to the darkness beyond the campfire. But when their focus was complete, she understood why he had summoned her.
Trying to sort out her conflicting feelings, Victoria hesitated. Was Jed Kincaid offering her only the warmth of his body, or did he want her near for other reasons? It certainly had not taken much effort for him to elicit a response when he had kissed her. Could he be expecting such enthusiasm tonight, as well?
“The offer’s not open all night,” he said, seeing her waver. “I need my sleep.”
All at once Victoria knew there was nothing lewd or suggestive in the invitation. It was a simple act of generosity. She moved to join him with a grateful nod of her head and crawled beneath the blanket he held aside for her.
“It’s hard to fathom how a place so hot in the day can turn so cold at night,” she whispered. Not waiting for a reply, she fitted herself to Jed’s hard, masculine length, not so much snuggling as huddling against him. Far from the disturbing sensations she had expected in being so intimately close to Jed Kincaid, Victoria discerned only his warmth as it slowly spread to her, that and a delicious feeling of security. Before she knew it, she had fallen contentedly to sleep.
Aware of the slow, even breathing of the woman next to him, Jed craned his head to look at her face, so peaceful now in slumber. Dang it all! he thought miserably, a deep frown creasing his face. It was going to be a damned difficult feat to keep Vicky at arm’s length when she was curled up right alongside him.
* * *
“All right, Vicky, time to move out,” Jed ordered, shaking her awake in the pale gray light that presaged dawn.
It was evident that Jed had been up for a while. Most things were packed away and the horses were saddled, including her own. Victoria felt touched by his consideration until the swaggering American began to bully her and impersonally bark orders.
“Wash up if you want to, there’ll be no oasis for us to stop at tonight. Shake out the bedding and roll it up, then water the horses,” Jed commanded. “After that, you’ll find coffee near the embers of the campfire, and there’s some dried fruit and bread, as well. I’ll be busy with Ali. The fool thinks he can sit his horse today.”
Stalking away, Jed shook his head and muttered, his words quite audible in the stillness of the sandy wilderness. “As if I need him falling off and injuring his ugly hide again. How the hell does he expect me to drag him and some damned, pampered woman across the desert if that happens?”
As she splashed water over her face, Victoria found it hard to believe that the man who had kept her so mercifully warm last night could be so callously cold today. In the darkness he had shared the heat of his body, but with the dawn, it appeared he was willing to give her nothing. There was no attempt at friendship or even civility. Yet she couldn’t blame him for his abruptness when she considered the responsibility he shouldered. Their lives depended upon Jed. For the first time Victoria felt as though she were a burden to him. The idea made her feel guilty, prompting her to do her share of the work and more. She put aside the mystery that was Jed Kincaid, knowing she had to concentrate on survival. After she returned to Cairo and he was gone, there would be plenty of time to think about Jed. But somehow such a realization seemed suddenly very sad rather than the comfort it was meant to be.
Appreciating the fullness of the gallabiya she wore and the freedom it gave her as she set about the tasks assigned her, Victoria envisioned no difficulty in wearing it for the remainder of the day.
Packing her clothing away, Victoria looked indecisively at the hideous and indecent slave outfit Zobeir had forced upon her. She might not want a reminder of her time in Khartoum, but she dared not leave behind any trace of their having been at the oasis. Quickly she buried the offensive garments beneath the sand, hoping to bury along with them all memories of her encounter with Zobeir.
Victoria had just finished her chores and had barely raised the coffee to her lips when she saw Jed helping Ali onto his mount, berating the Egyptian all the while.
“I said you could ride only if you agreed to this,” Jed insisted, fishing a thick rawhide strip from his own saddlebag.
“I will not be tied to my horse,” Ali objected.
“If you’re not quiet, I’ll end up gagging you, as well.”
“Why? Because I warned you to stay away from the woman?” Ali asked in a lowered voice that did very little to keep Victoria from hearing what he had to say. “I saw her sleeping beside you when I woke last night. She belongs to another man, Kincaid.”
“And just what were you doing looking to see where she was?” Jed wanted to know, obstinately refusing to defend himself.
“I would protect Miss Victoria with my life,” Ali proclaimed in a fierce whisper. “It matters not to me from whom.”
“Is that so?” Jed inquired, his voice casual but his eyes flashing dangerously. “Seems to me that’s a mighty great length to go for a woman you just met.”
“You’ve known her hardly longer than I,” Ali asserted, “and see how possessively you behave. I remind you once more, the woman is Reed’s.”
“He’s welcome to her,” Jed said with a grunt, moving Ali’s hands out of the way and deftly winding the leather thong around the Egyptian’s waist, then tying it to the saddle horn. “There. That ought to keep you perched up there for a spell.”
“Such precautions are not necessary,” Ali repeated, clumsily trying to undo the knot Jed had fastened.
“It is unless you want to be strapped to the travois again,” Jed pronounced with a glower. “Now, leave that damn binding alone or I’ll tie your hands to the saddle horn.
“Time to mount up, Vicky,” the American called before Ali could begin voicing his objections again. Swinging himself up effortlessly into his saddle, Jed glanced over his shoulder to make certain Victoria did as she was instructed, then led the way from the oasis without another word, his tall, gallabiya-clad form appearing as though it were fashioned for a life in the desert.
For the rest of the morning, Jed remained taciturn. On occasion he looked in Ali’s direction to see how the shopkeeper fared as the morning heated up with brutal intensity. But he assiduously made sure his eyes never fell on Vicky. Having her beside him last night had taken its toll. The soft feminine feel and scent of her still lingered in his mind so that he had faced today with new resolve to have as little as possible to do with her.
After a few hours of pushing the horses as much as he dared, Jed glanced up to find the woman he was trying to forget pulling abreast of him, demanding his attention.
“I need some water,” she announced. She eyed him nervously even as the rasping of her voice supported the truth of her words.
Tarnation, Jed thought, his frustration escalating. Vicky was looking at him as if she expected him to jump all over her simply because she was thirsty. Not that he wouldn’t like to pounce on her like some big cat on its prey, he admitted ruefully, but didn’t she know by now that he would never hurt a little bit of a thing like her, no matter how he might sometimes roar?
Oh, he’d been willing enough to tease her and bait her when he had wanted to see her riled up. Now, however, everything had changed. If he didn’t leave her alone, he’d chance a repeat of the urgent kiss he had given her yesterday. And if that occurred, he knew there was no telling where it might lead.
But for all his fine, monkish vows, Jed was well aware that the night still loomed ahead of him, when there would be no fuel to be found and thus no fire. Without that, they would be colder than they had been previously, and he knew what that portended. He almost groaned aloud at the prospect.
His face dark and brooding, Jed wordlessly handed Victoria a canteen as Ali rode up beside them. At least the Egyptian looked none the worse for his hours in the saddle, Jed noted. With a sidelong glance at Victoria, the envious American only wished this journey could prove as innocuous for him.
The rest of the morning proceeded without incident, the trio halting shortly after noon for a few hours’ respite. Setting up a small canopy with the travois poles and a blanket, Jed noticed Victoria watering the horses and then setting out bread and dried apricots for a light luncheon. It was remarkable how a woman who had probably done nothing so physical as dress her own hair had suddenly become adept in the ways of the desert, Jed mused, until he realized that if he wanted to rest, all thoughts of Vicky would have to be banished. And sleep during this hottest part of the day would be essential, he knew, in light of the restlessness nighttime would bring.
His efforts had little result, however. Jed found himself far from refreshed when they set out again late in the afternoon, journeying until the purple haze of twilight began to color the desert’s golden sands. Choosing a small indentation between two larger drifts, Jed signaled the others to stop. Again Victoria helped without being told, which caused Jed to wonder if she wanted as little contact with him as he did with her. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about her seeking him out once the sun had completely disappeared.
After a simple dinner, Jed retrieved his precious supply of zabeeb and tried to pass it around, hoping Vicky would find the warmth it imparted preferable to last night’s source of heat. But, with a shake of her blond head, she declined to try it.
So much for that, Jed thought miserably. He grabbed the bottle from Ali and brought it to his mouth, taking a long, deep swallow to fortify himself against what the darkness would force him to endure.
Yet when it was time to crawl beneath the blankets, Vicky went her own way, and Jed began to pray he might still be spared. Ali’s soft snores soon rent the quiet of the night, and Jed reckoned that if the Egyptian was that exhausted, Vicky was probably more so. It could be that she had fallen into a sleep so deep the cold was no longer a problem for her. But just when Jed began to relax, he raised his eyes to find Vicky, blanket in hand, standing silently before him.
“Oh, all right, come on,” he grumbled, holding his cover aside.
“I tried, Jed,” she whispered in apology as she lay down.
“Just shut up and go to sleep,” he muttered, his voice indicating just how ornery he felt while he draped both their blankets over them.
To his surprise, Vicky soon complied, the slow rhythmic rise and fall of her chest attesting to her fatigue.
If that doesn’t just beat all, Jed thought as he fought to get comfortable. Here she was sleeping like some angel, when her presence was the demon that damned him to restlessness.
* * *
The next day followed the pattern of the one before until it was time to avoid the most brutal rays of the desert sun. The group had stopped and Victoria was busy with her mare when suddenly Jed appeared from nowhere, his hand shooting out to thrust her behind him.
Hot and cross, Victoria was about to demand what she had done to deserve such treatment when Ali drew her attention to approaching strangers, four men leading a small string of camels.
Though Jed remained outwardly calm and blasé, Victoria noticed he took the precaution of moving his hand to the pistol stuck into the waistband of his trousers.
“Bedouins?” Victoria asked, taking comfort for the first time during daylight in Jed’s nearness. The ominous strength he projected would surely be enough to dissuade anyone from trying to do them harm.
“No, these are village boys, I reckon,” Jed said in response, his voice low. “From the look of them, I’d say they are dervishes, probably Sammaniyeh, a fairly new sect, and some of them can be downright fanatical. They’ve very little love for outsiders, folks like you and me. So no matter what happens, Vicky, you damn well better stay quietly in the background. And if I tell you to do something, I want you to jump. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Jed,” she responded submissively. Her willingness to cooperate made him feel better, as did the rifle Ali had retrieved. Its stock rested in the sand, the barrel lying along the Egyptian’s leg with deceptive casualness. While his injury would make shooting damn nigh impossible, the dervishes wouldn’t know that, Jed thought with grim satisfaction as he watched them draw closer.
“Naharak said,” the smallest of the men called in greeting. Thy day be happy.
“Naharak said wemubarak,” Jed replied. He was all polite charm, but his fingers remained clutched around the pistol’s handle, even though the travelers remained on their camels.
“What brings you out in the middle of the desert?” one of the men asked in his native tongue.
Having no idea of what was being said, Victoria felt an uneasy chill creep up her spine, despite Jed’s brash smile and the sure, unwavering quality of his voice as he answered, the strange-sounding words rippling forth from his mouth with apparent ease.
“Why, I’m just scouting out a route for a new caravan master,” Jed replied languidly, his fluency in their language impressing the Arabs as much as the firearms he and Ali possessed. But their notice was soon drawn elsewhere. Once their eyes lit on Victoria, they stared like a bunch of hungry buzzards, so that Jed had to fight to ignore the itch of the pistol butt beneath his palm.
For her part, encountering such unsavory characters in the middle of the desert, under any circumstances, would have filled Victoria with apprehension. But with the memory of her recent abduction, terror threatened to run rampant when she attracted the strangers’ attention. It was only Jed’s presence that allowed her to hope everything would be all right.
“You are off the main route,” the leader of the group commented, his eyes impudently caressing Victoria. “Could it be you are lost?”
“No. Let’s just say my boss doesn’t want his merchandise disappearing somewhere along the more traveled paths crisscrossing the desert. He desires a private route, if you know what I mean.”
“A slaver?” the leader asked. His eyes glittered with possibility as he rode closer to openly inspect Victoria.
“The merchandise he wishes to transport is of a more explosive sort,” Jed replied with an enigmatic shrug of his shoulders meant to turn the dervishes’ thoughts away from Victoria.
“Ah, guns! Yes?” the youngest of the group burst out. “I have heard of such trafficking taking place.”
“Mostly he deals in ammunition,” Jed informed him. “That’s a mighty big powder magazine they’ve built down in Khartoum. He knows they’ll need something to fill it with.”
“According to the new prophet, the guns and powder housed there will be much needed, and very soon.”
“That’s what I’ve been told,” Jed replied, grateful for all poker had taught him about bluffing. “Now I’m sure you boys don’t want to detain me too long. The sooner I’ve finished my job, the sooner your prophet will get what he wants.”
“But I see no rifles or ammunition,” a more skeptical member of the quartet challenged.
“I told you, I’m just scouting the route,” Jed said quietly, his attitude daring the dervishes to call him a liar.
“And the woman?” asked the man to whom the others answered. His silk-laden voice was salacious, though his words were not.
“She’s mine,” Jed stated flatly. To emphasize that point, he pulled Victoria forward and threw his arm over her shoulder, casually allowing his hand to fall near her breast, so that it brushed against her in a most possessive manner.
“As you say,” the disappointed stranger murmured, put off by the fierce look of ownership the American wore.
“But perhaps you would consider a swap for the horses,” Jed offered. “They’re worth more than the woman, anyway.”
“True, yet that would leave you without transport,” another of the dervishes said quietly as he considered the possibility of killing the two men and taking both the woman and the horses.
“Not when you trade me three of those camels,” Jed informed him, calmly withdrawing his pistol and cocking its hammer, pretending to study the mechanism.
Though not a verbal warning, Jed’s actions told the strangers they had best beware. Ali’s fierce glower made it plainer still.
“Three horses for a like number of camels?” the leader of the Arabs asked, his lip curled into a mocking smile. “You are not much of a trader.”
“Oh, I know the horses are more valuable,” Jed said with a cavalier nod of his head. “But at the moment, I find the camels would better suit my purposes. We have a lot of desert to cross before we return to Cairo.”
“You work with the Mahdi’s contact in Cairo?” the youngest and least cautious of the men asked in surprise before the admonishing glares of his fellows caused him to fall abashedly silent.
“All you have to know about me is that I trade horses for camels. I assume we have a deal,” Jed stated, his eyes sliding meaningfully along the barrel of his gun.
“So be it,” the chief dervish pronounced. “It is done.”
“Good,” Jed replied as a slow, lazy grin made his white teeth glisten. “Ali, make certain our saddlebags, bedrolls and provisions don’t disappear.”
When Ali moved away from their small group, a curious Victoria began to turn in the direction he had taken. But the additional pressure of Jed’s arm across her shoulders kept her docilely in place.
“Smile, sugar,” she heard Jed hiss when she started at seeing her mare and the other horses suddenly being led forward. The look in his eyes told her she dare not make a fuss, but damn the man, couldn’t he give her some indication of what was happening? He knew she didn’t understand Arabic.
“I’ll take those, too,” Jed announced when two of the dervishes began to remove the saddles, richly adorned with velvet and silver, from the riderless camels.
“Our bargain mentioned nothing about that!” the leader protested, his already-wizened face twisting in determination.
“That could be, but they don’t really belong to you,” Jed drawled. “Three riderless camels rigged out like that suggests to me that you have either lost three comrades, or more likely, that you set upon the original owners and killed them. That’s no concern of mine,” the American continued, holding up a hand to signal the dervishes to silence when they all began to talk at once. “But I’m a fair man. I didn’t say anything about the water skins the horses will need in order to get to the next oasis, either. The water skins for the saddles...and the bridles.”
Though Victoria had no idea what Jed had said to set the Arabs muttering discontentedly, she nevertheless breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the leader nod in assent. She couldn’t wait until the strangers departed so that she could find out what had taken place, and move out from beneath Jed’s impudent hand!
“You are shrewder than I thought,” the leader said at last.
“Meaner and faster, too,” Jed added with studied nonchalance as he twirled his pistol with lightning speed once around his finger as though it were a six-shooter.
“You will have what you desire,” the other man replied tersely. Then he ordered the camels brought forward ready to ride.
“That’s always been my aim,” Jed said with a chortle that died away when his gaze came to rest once more on the woman he held beside him. She was one thing he wanted. But damn it all, she was also the one thing he couldn’t have.
Jed’s abruptly ended laughter meant nothing to Victoria, who watched as three sets of reins were exchanged for three others. Horror held her enthralled every bit as much as the relentless restraint of Jed’s arm when she began to suspect what had just taken place. He wasn’t really going to ask her to ride such a beast, was he?
Soon it became all too apparent that was exactly what Jed intended. She silently swore that once the dervishes left, he’d learn he had acquired not only the camels, but a hellcat as well.
“Khattar khairak,” Jed called as the Arabs left. May your goods be increased.
Turning to regard him with a stony countenance, the leader offered no polite reply. Instead, he and his men began to move swiftly across the burnished sands.
The instant the strangers were well under way, Victoria twisted out from beneath Jed’s hold, batting away the hand that had thrilled as much as annoyed her, keeping her where he had wanted her.
“Why did you give away our horses?” she demanded furiously, choosing to deal with that topic first so he would have no inkling as to the devastating impact of his accidental caresses.
“I traded them, not gave them away. And you’re lucky that’s all I bartered,” Jed growled, wanting to irk the blond virago by telling her how much he had been tempted to rid himself of her, as well. But the lie stuck in his throat, unable to pass his lips.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Victoria asked, placing herself in front of Jed when he tried to sidestep her.
“Nothing, Miss Victoria,” Ali interjected, attempting to forestall more trouble. “There was no insult intended. In fact, to keep you safe, Jed told the dervishes you were his woman.”
“Did you have to do that?” Victoria asked, her cheeks aglow with anger too long denied. And did she have to wish it were so? she thought in self-rebuke.
“I did if you wanted to stay with us rather than ride off with them,” Jed retorted. Didn’t the woman have any idea of the sacrifice he had just made, letting her get close to him, pretending she was truly his to protect, all this when he wanted nothing so much as to forget her very existence? “You can thank me later,” he commented acidly.
“The only thing I’ll thank you for is to keep your hands off me in the future,” Victoria answered.
But her indignation made no impression on Jed, who calmly placed his hands around her waist. Picking her up, he carried her over to one of the camels, ignoring her flailing hands and kicking feet.
“I surely would love to finish this friendly conversation, Vicky,” he said, his voice edged with grimness, “but it will have to wait. Right now I want to get us the hell out of here before those fellows decide to double back. Ali, help me get our stuff stowed on those critters pronto.”
“Pronto,” the Egyptian echoed with determination, never having heard the word before but knowing just what it meant.
“Urkud!” Jed sternly issued his command to the smallest of the beasts. The camel quickly lay down as it had been ordered.
“Hold on tightly, Vicky,” Jed suggested with amusement, dumping Victoria unceremoniously onto the saddle.
“Kam,” he shouted, and the beast obediently began to rise. In an ungainly motion, it unfolded its forelegs first, so that Victoria screeched unashamedly when she pitched backward, afraid she would tumble over the animal’s hindquarters to the ground. But before she could do so, the camel gained its back feet, as well, and the apprehensive Englishwoman found herself sitting altogether too high above the ground to suit her tastes.
First a horse, then a camel. Who knew what the wild American would expect her to ride next? Victoria fumed, until an unbidden answer arose half formed in her mind, causing her to blush furiously and lapse into uncharacteristic silence.
Taking the saddlebags from Ali, Jed did not question his good fortune when Vicky suddenly fell quiet. He was too intent on slinging the supplies across the neck of the camel he had chosen as his.
“Rah!” he called, settling himself. Go. And the travelers set out under the sun’s punishing rays without further delay.
* * *
Jed drove the little band later than usual that night, wanting to put as great a distance as possible between them and the dervishes. It was not that he really expected the Arabs to be so foolish as to try anything; still, his natural instincts cautioned him to err on the side of safety.
Besides, there was another, more disturbing, reason that made him wish to keep Vicky and Ali in their saddles well past the hour when darkness had fallen.
The simple truth of the matter was the longer they rode, the less time he would have to spend with Vicky cradled alongside him. Such intimacy had been painful before, smelling the womanly scent of her, listening to her occasional breathy little moans as she slept. And all the while, lying awake with her body pressed against his, he had wondered what it would be like to trace the curve of her neck with his lips, or what sort of provocative sounds she would make if she were lying beneath him, the recipient of those male urgings that were driving him to distraction.
Tonight, however, he knew that the sweet torment he had experienced the last two nights would bring him to the brink of madness, and he couldn’t be certain he was man enough to resist sliding over the edge into rapturous lunacy.
It would be so easy to surrender, following their afternoon encounter with the dervishes, he thought with a snort of self-derision. He’d played his part too well, the possessive male willing to maim or kill in order to protect his woman. He had been chagrined to realize that when the Arabs had departed, his feelings had not. They were still running away with him like a driverless stagecoach, careening wildly as he left the path of common sense he had always prided himself on traveling.
But the reins of self-control had slipped beyond his reach for the moment, and he knew he would find it impossible to slow things down and set himself on the right course once again.
He began to understand why he had so often provoked Vicky into arguing. Squabbling was a more acceptable release for the tension her nearness created within him than the one his too-vivid imagination engendered. And because of the emotions he had tasted that day watching the dervishes crave the woman in his care, he was having great difficulty coping with his feelings at present.
And so, in spite of his selfishness, Jed planned to keep Vicky and Ali plodding across the sand, transformed into fine silver dust by the glow of the moonlight, until he was so exhausted Vicky would be no temptation for him when they camped for the night.
On and on they went, the stars dimly lighting their way and the jackals, invisible in the darkness of the night, crossing their path, just as visions of Vicky stole across Jed’s mind until he found it hard to concentrate on the things that should be claiming his attention—their survival, for one.
Eventually, however, Jed began to feel his capacity to think become clouded and the rigidity of his body melt into softness with the weariness rapidly stealing over him.
It was safe to stop now, he reflected with relief, finally calling a halt to their swaying ride aboard the bartered dromedaries.
“Urkud,” he called to his beast, easily handling its descent as it fell upon its front knees before lowering its hindquarters.
Riding camels was no problem for him. Vicky, however, would need his assistance, he thought, his dark eyebrows drawing together in annoyance.
For a moment, he resented being so totally responsible for her, until he felt himself flush at his uncharitable attitude. He had always seen it as his duty to lend a helping hand to folks in need. When he considered the strangers he had assisted, how could he ever countenance turning away from Vicky when he might make this taxing journey less difficult for her? He couldn’t, and well he knew it.
His mouth set in a grim line, he walked to stand in front of Victoria’s camel, while she sat pale and fatigued above him, the dark smudges under her eyes evident even in the moonlight.
The sight of her made him feel guilty for keeping her riding solely to ease his own unsettlement. But he hastily brushed that aside. He already suffered from too many emotions where Victoria Shaw was concerned, and he was not about to tolerate another one.
“All right, Vicky, when the camel begins to go down, I want you to stand up in your stirrups and lean back so far that you think you’re about to fall on that little tail of yours. That’s the only thing that will keep you from toppling over this fool varmint’s neck. Think you can do that?”
“I can do anything that’s required in order to dismount from this vile creature,” she replied through lips compressed so tightly Jed was surprised she could speak at all.
With the camel’s unrelenting swaying as they had traversed the moonlit landscape, Victoria had come to understand exactly why the beasts were called the ships of the desert. She was even now experiencing a sensation akin to mal de mer, and she had the awful feeling she would disgrace herself by being sick if she didn’t dismount immediately. Who would have ever supposed a few days ago that she would be longing desperately to sit upon the little mare that had carried her into the desert?
“Good girl,” Jed said with grudging admiration. Despite her pampered upbringing, the woman had pluck; he couldn’t take that away from her.
Wielding the stick used by camel drivers, Jed barked the order that would bring the animal to its knees. Aside from the widening whites of Vicky’s eyes, she gave no indication of how frightened she was, though she did scramble off the beast with alacrity.
As the obdurate dromedary took it into its head to rise again, Victoria delighted in having the sand once more beneath her feet. If she hadn’t been tired, she would have smiled softly in amusement. The mare, the uneven surface of the desert, even Jed himself, things she had generally detested at the outset of this journey, were suddenly sources of familiar comfort. Dear Lord, but she had changed. She answered Jed’s gaze with one of her own. Regarding him in silence, she thought of Hayden, and realized that no matter how much she was transformed, it would never be enough.
Heaving a sigh that might have been exhaustion, might have been regret, Victoria remembered that there was work to be done.
“How am I supposed to unsaddle this demon?” she asked, gingerly stepping closer to the camel who was eyeing her with the same sort of suspicion apparent on her own face.
“You’re not,” Jed stated. “If you tried to pick up that saddle, you’d only get hurt...or else be plain ineffectual. Tend to the bedrolls and scrounge up something for us to eat. I’ll see to the animals tonight. Ali can help me if he’s fit.”
Just then, Victoria’s camel decided to allow its usual nasty disposition to surface. It began to bray in a loud, raucous voice, scolding these two humans to hurry in its care. To emphasize its impatience, it spit, missing Victoria by a fraction of an inch.
“Abominable creature,” she muttered as she unlashed the bedding from Jed’s mount, a beast that was slightly better behaved.
Jed chuckled. For an instant, he had thought Victoria was going to spit back square in the camel’s eye. Good God, but she was a fiery woman, he thought, becoming engrossed in the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away to relay his orders to Ali. Even in her rumpled gallabiya, so large it was virtually shapeless, and with that ridiculous felt hat perched on her head, Jed found Vicky Shaw to be incredibly sexy. With a whoosh of breath meant to expel her from his thoughts and release the tension building within him, Jed turned to the camel, surprised at how difficult he found it to concentrate on even this simple task.
Once again he had been caught off guard. No matter how many times he had vowed to ignore the woman, where Vicky was concerned, promises were worthless as fool’s gold. All nice and shiny on the surface, they had no value whatsoever. He was filled with self-disgust at his inability to remain distant when it came to her.
Exhausted as he was, and caught up in the incongruity of his attraction to Miss Victoria Shaw, Jed Kincaid grew careless. He didn’t hear the soft whinnying of a horse in the surrounding blackness. Worse yet, he was completely unprepared for the bloodcurdling yell suddenly severing the tranquillity of the night, accompanied by the blur of marauding horsemen and the glint of moonlight on brandished swords. Before he knew what was happening, a group of brigands, three of whom were mounted on steeds all too familiar, came swooping into the camp.
“Son of a bitch!” Jed exclaimed as he raced toward Victoria, pulling the pistol from his waistband. What the hell was the matter with him, not to have seen this coming instead of mooning around like some useless, lovesick calf? He wasn’t a man if he couldn’t keep the woman he guarded safe from harm.
Defeat was not something that sat right with Jed Kincaid. He would save Victoria or he’d damn well die trying. About to issue a war cry himself, Yankee-style, the challenging yell dissolved before it truly formed when he saw one of the dervishes riding down hard on Victoria. Though Ali was already engaged in combat with another brigand, he sought to protect her body with his. Yet Jed feared she would be trampled. In an instant, he knew terror of the type he had not experienced since he was a young, tree-climbing boy, when the darkness of the night had hidden all that was familiar. But now, it was forfeiting the unknown, each new and unexplored facet of Vicky that he had yet to uncover, that filled him with dread.
Run, Vicky, he wanted to scream. Run into the blackness, the safety of the night. I’ll find you when this is over. But he had caught the broadside of a large, curved blade, losing both his breath and gun in the process. After that, he had no wind left for anything but survival. And he had to survive, he told himself, his heart beating in his chest as fast as a steam locomotive, or else Vicky would be lost forever.
Still struggling to get to her side as Ali did his best to fight off the dervish swinging down to capture her, Jed managed to avoid the deadly slashing of two horsemen by staying between them at close range. Feinting right and then left, he rolled under nervous hooves at one point, all in his struggle to reach Vicky.
Yet the two dervishes would not relinquish him. The sharp edge of a sword almost caught him, but Jed’s natural dexterity saved him, and he was left with only a scratch running below his cheekbone. Had he not dodged when he had, his head would have been severed from his body, and the awareness of what had almost occurred gave him new vitality as he swore not to fail Vicky again.
Somehow, he was able to retrieve the knife kept in the top of his boot. With a fierce strength born of desperation, he grabbed at the hemline of one of his attackers and, with a mighty wrench, unseated him, bringing the bastard to the ground.
His knife quickly found its mark, but he had barely rolled aside when the second attacker rushed him again. Narrowly escaping the descending blade, Jed turned, the hard planes of his face a deadly mask filled with fury. Grabbing the dead man’s weapon and leaping onto the horse left riderless, he engaged the assailant in battle, frantic to dispatch the enemy and hasten to the other side of the camp before it was too late.
Hacking wildly, he advanced, his countenance that of a madman, forcing his foe to retreat against his violent onslaught. Soon understanding that he would be no match for a man who fought so recklessly, the intruder took flight, leaving Jed free to hurriedly cover the ground between him and Vicky.
But as he turned his horse in her direction, he saw her being lifted up onto the leader’s saddle. The dervish sneered at her fruitless attempts to kick and scratch while Ali was busy fighting for his life with yet another of the raiders.
“Vicky!” Jed yelled loudly. Her name was torn from his throat in a roar of anguished fear and pain so rife with emotion that if either of them had truly listened, they would have heard in that one word all of the things Jed felt but had never admitted, even to himself.
However, there was no time to consider anything. There was barely time for action. Without a care for his own safety when the leader raised a rifle and aimed in his direction, Jed charged. Instinctively, he threw his arms around his mount’s neck and slipped from the saddle, riding suspended above the ground along the side of the horse like some warring Indian brave.
Cursing that his target had eluded him, the dervish turned his attention to Victoria and escape. But before he could do so, Jed was beside him, leaping upward from his horse to the stallion. He landed on the rump of the skittish beast, where the dervish and his rifle no longer posed a threat. Mercilessly, Jed crooked a powerful forearm around the villain’s throat and squeezed.
His supply of air effectively stopped, the Arab’s hands flew to his neck to fight off Jed’s muscular arm, while Victoria jumped from the saddle. Ignoring the rearing and pawing of the nervous horse, she was only concerned for Jed’s safety. Her anxiety grew when she saw the dervish pull a knife just as the two men fell to the ground, engaged in a life-and-death struggle.
She had no reason to worry. Summoning every reserve of brute force he possessed, Jed tightened his arm around the abductor’s neck and a snapping of bone signaled the fight was over.
As Jed rose to his feet, his lungs gulping for air, the two dervishes who had survived made ready to flee. While the one retreated from Ali, the other grabbed the reins of the riderless horses. Then they galloped swiftly into the night leaving the bodies of their fallen comrades behind.
Barely conscious of Ali picking up a rifle and somehow managing to discharge shots in the wake of the attackers’ departure, Jed paid them little heed. His only concern at the moment was that Victoria had not been harmed.
Holding out a protective hand, he helped her rise from the spot where she had remained on her knees in the sand. When his fingers closed around hers, he became aware of her trembling and castigated himself for having allowed the raid to ever take place.
“Are you all right?” he asked. His voice was husky as his eyes swiftly moved in assessment over her slight form.
“Yes,” she replied, her vulnerability obvious. But she paid no heed to her own needs as she tenderly wiped the blood from his face. “You’re a brave man, Jed. Thank you for saving me.”
At her words, a steely look descended like a curtain across Jed’s eyes, turning their clear emerald green to a smoky hue. Saving her? It was his fault she was nearly kidnapped. Why didn’t she understand that? Jed asked himself, rejecting any rights he had to accept this woman’s thanks.
But Vicky didn’t seem to comprehend his blame in the matter. Instead, she stood on tiptoe, her hand against his cheek, coaxing his head down so that she could place her lips against his as a sign of her gratitude.
Feeling unworthy as he did, Jed could not bear Vicky’s touch, let alone her kiss. He drew back from her, ignoring the look of hurt confusion in her eyes, and busied himself with replacing the saddle he had only recently removed. The pain that had sliced through his heart when he thought she would be stolen had told Jed that he could never kiss this woman again. It was too dangerous. Nor could he ever be lax with her safety. From now on, he would take every precaution available, no matter how needless it appeared to be.
“What are you doing?” Ali demanded indignantly.
“What does it look like?” Jed retorted, his voice laced with anger. “I’m getting ready to take us the hell out of here before those boys come back with some of their friends.”
“I agree we should remove ourselves from this place,” Ali continued. “But must it be so soon, before Miss Victoria has had an opportunity to properly recover from her fright?”
“I don’t want to gamble on another bushwhacking,” Jed said with a calmness that belied his still-racing heart. “If that happened, there’s every possibility there would be no chance for Vicky to recover—properly or otherwise. We’re leaving here now.”
“Miss Victoria?” Ali questioned gently.
“It’s fine, Ali,” she said, patting his hand and finding comfort in the human contact Jed had denied her. “Don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’m too unsettled now to sleep or even rest, anyway.”
Grunting his approval, Jed helped Victoria mount up, and then proceeded to lead them on through the starlit night.
Taking the time to look over her shoulder as her camel followed Jed’s, Victoria’s keen gaze took in the remnants of the destruction they were leaving strewn across the sands. She found her heart hardened when her eyes came to rest on the corpses of the two dervishes. Had Jed not been so skilled, it might have been his body and Ali’s she was leaving behind.
Turning to face front once more, she regarded Jed with a shy, sideward glance. To Victoria, his proud, chiseled profile silhouetted in the moonlight was surely one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen. The stubble that dotted his chin was no longer repulsive to her, but merely an indication of his extreme manliness. And though he could be domineering, reckless and crude, lacking in all of the social graces she had been raised to value, Victoria Shaw had come to recognize that Jed Kincaid was quite a man in his own right. He appeared to follow some code of his own, one that was more demanding in some respects than the one society adhered to.
This night he had unselfishly risked his life for hers. The manner in which he had fought to save her might have made her think she was important to him, except for the fact that when it was all over, when she had needed to feel his masculine strength surrounding her protectively and she had attempted to show her gratitude, he had most definitely pushed her away. She didn’t understand him at all, or her own reaction to him, but then there were miles of desert yet ahead.