Home > To Tempt a Sheikh (Pride of Zohayd #2)(18)

To Tempt a Sheikh (Pride of Zohayd #2)(18)
Author: Olivia Gates

He dragged one between them, popped the lid open before looking at her with teasing back in his eyes, to her relief. “There’s one thing I can’t get over. How you don’t take words lauding your beauty and effect as your due—my jasmine dew.”

She followed his lead, loaded water bottles and packets of dry food into the backpacks. “Next you’ll call me Mountain Dew.”

A chuckle rumbled inside his massive chest. “Oh, no. You get your own brand names. But we do have canned relatives around.”

She stuffed a compartment into one backpack, turned to the other one, which she noticed was much smaller, as he pulled out another crate. “How nutritionally sloppy of you.”

He opened the crate, produced guns, flares, flashlights, batteries, compasses and many other articles, which he distributed between the two backpacks. “I assure you, I never come within a mile of anything canned, except in emergencies. For easily stored quick fixes of hydration and calories, they work in a bind.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to resort to them. I’d rather drink detergent. But then we won’t have to, since you have it all figured out, being the desert knight that you are.”

He gave her a stoking glance. “That’s right. And this desert knight says close your backpack and let’s move on to packing our accommodations.”

“You mean this tiny thing is mine?” She eyed his backpack. It was almost as big as her. “And this behemoth is yours?”

He nodded matter-of-factly. “I am twice as big as you are, and can carry four times as much or more.”

“Listen, this is getting old. I won’t stand by while you bust my sutures.”

“I thought they were mine.” Before the urge to smack him transferred from her brain to her arm, he added, “If I can’t handle it, I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah, right. Right after you tell me you’ve sighted the first flying pig.”

“But I’m the mulish ox here, therefore perfectly qualified for hefting and towing.” Before she could plow into a counterargument, he cupped her face in both hands. The gentleness in his grasp made everything inside her crumple, pour into those palms. “Thank you for worrying about me, for braving exhaustion to spare me. But I’ve been through worse, have trained to weather the worst conditions for over a quarter of a century.” His lips quirked. “Probably longer than you’ve been on the planet.”

That shook her out of her hypnosis. “What? When I told you I’ve been practicing medicine for years? You think they grant babies medical licenses now?”

“They do, to prodigies.”

“Well, I’m not one. I’ll be thirty next August.”

“No way.” He looked genuinely stunned.

“Yes way.”

“See? No end to your surprises.”

“Stick around. They’re bound to end sometime.”

“Oh, I intend to. And I bet they never will.”

“Didn’t take you for a betting man.”

“I’m not. But I’ll bet on you anytime.”

Only then did she notice he still held her face in his palms. And that she was shaking all over again. And that he knew that he turned her into a live wire, knew she was struggling not to succumb. He was also certain she would.

She glared back. Never again.

“Don’t be so sure,” he murmured, his tone a sweeping undertow, his exotic accent sliding over her, enveloping her.

She gasped. He’d heard her thoughts, was taking the challenge.

She shook her head, reclaimed her face from his possession.

With a last molten look of challenge, he resumed packing.

Afterward, he fashioned a sled from the helicopter’s remains, using ropes for a harness. On it he loaded a folded tent, their quarters, as he called it, and piled on blankets, sleeping bags and mats.

She matched him move for move, followed his directions, anticipating his needs as if they’d been working together for years in perfect harmony. And she felt that overwhelming in-sync feeling again, just as she’d felt when he’d assisted her in treating his wound, always reading her next move, ready for it with the most efficient action.

It wasn’t only that. She felt her body gravitating toward him, demanding his closeness. She resisted the compulsion with an equal force until she felt she’d rip down the middle.

It’s survival, she told herself. Seeking the one person around. Being out here would have been unsettling enough in controlled conditions. But she’d just learned that her predicament was far worse than she’d thought. And with him generating that field of reassurance and invincibility, who could blame her if all she wanted was to throw herself into his haven?

And since when did she indulge in self-deception?

This man had jolted things inside her, like electric cables forced life into a dead battery, from the second she’d turned to face him. Ever since, his nearness, everything he said or did, revved that life into something almost…painful. An edge that scraped everything aside. A knot of hunger that—

“You’re hungry.”

She jerked at the dark compulsion of his voice, and glared her resentment at him. Couldn’t he have the decency to have one crack in his imperturbable facade? It might be self-defeating to wish that her one chance at survival be less than the absolute rock he needed to be to get them out of this, but she still wished it. No one could be that unflappable, could he?

He only looked at her with that boundless tranquility that she felt traversed his being. She answered her own question.

Yes, someone could be. And his name was Harres Aal Shalaan.

And he’d just read her mind. Again.

Before mortification choked her, he let her off the hook. “Like you, your stomach snaps its teeth.” And she realized it was. She hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours. “So here’s the plan. We eat, prepare our gear then move out. It’s 1:00 a.m. now. If we move out in an hour, we’ll have around eight hours before things get too hot. When it does, we’ll set up camp, hide out the worst of it, then set out again before sunset. The schedule throughout will be two hours on, one hour off. More off if you need it. At a rate of about five miles every three hours, we’ll make it to our destination in about three days. If we ration ourselves, our supplies should last.”

“If they don’t, I’ll use the IV fluid replacement. We have a few liters still.”

“See? You are the best I could have hoped to be with in this mess.”

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