.
huddled behind a falucca fifty yards away down the beach.
“Ali, make a run for it,” urged Jed in English, confident the Sudanese wouldn’t understand. The falucca was all set, and if he could angle it around, it might block the soldier’s view—
Crracck!
Ali had followed his advice too late, damn it! The Egyptian was facedown in the sand, thirty yards from the boat, and the Sudanese was already scrambling down the path toward him. For a moment Jed hesitated, weighing his responsibilities. The river was straining at the falucca, ready to start Victoria on her homebound journey, and she was his primary concern. Once he released the anchoring rope, they would be off with the current in minutes, safely away from here. Still...
“Here, take hold of this line and don’t let go,” he barked at her, leaping overboard.
Before she could argue, he was splashing through the water as the soldier raised his rifle to take aim at this new mark. Heart in her mouth, Victoria watched as her supposed protector dodged left and right then left again, running bent over to afford as small a target as possible. Reaching Ali’s unmoving body, he knelt briefly beside him while bullets spotted the sand around them.
“Damn that man!” she complained as the drag of the boat against the current increased. Her hands were raw from the effort to keep the falucca where it was, and she wasn’t certain she was doing all she could to protect herself. What if they began shooting at her?
While it was undoubtedly true she would be in jeopardy traveling alone on the Nile, would it be any more dangerous than lingering here? The temptation to release the rope grew stronger as her palms smarted all the more. It was not that she begrudged the Egyptian help, but what was taking so long? Any minute and she’d lose her grip on the hemp even if she wanted to hold on to it.
Lifting her head slightly, Victoria looked toward the city, panicking at the people crowding to watch the excitement. The shooting soldier was nowhere to be seen. Might he be sneaking up on her even now? Before she decided to abandon the line, there was a heavy thump forward and she turned anxiously, only to see Ali’s body dumped aboard and Jed pulling himself in after it.
“Let go of the rope and hand me the long pole,” he ordered, swinging the sail about. “Here, hold the canvas while I get us farther out into the current.”
Although she resented his lordly manner, she obeyed without complaint, permitting herself but a brief glance at the angry mob growing on the beach.
“Won’t they follow us?”
“Not if Ali did his job properly,” he answered curtly, propelling the falucca far enough from the beach that the occasional rifle shot was no longer a threat. “I’ll take the sail. Stow the pole and check on Ali. The bullet will have to stay in until we get ashore again, but see if the bleeding has stopped. Otherwise, find something to staunch the blood.”
Would this nightmare never end? wondered Victoria, making her way hesitantly to Ali’s side. As much as she hated the sight of blood, she couldn’t refuse to care for the man. The back of his shirt was already sticky with crimson, but there didn’t seem to be any more oozing. Quickly she rinsed her hand and dripped water on his forehead, but he didn’t waken.
Sighing at the unfairness of it all, the blonde looked back at the other man, the one who had been in the pens with her. As unmannered as he was, he had gone back for his partner. Could he be as bad as she had presumed him to be? She still didn’t know his name or his story. It was time for some answers, she decided abruptly, abandoning Ali to his continued unconsciousness.
“Look, your friend has passed out cold.”
“Passed out? Why?”
“How should I know? Maybe from shock or loss of blood or the way you so tenderly tossed him on board like a sack of potatoes.”
“Tenderly or not, I saved his life, lady, just like I saved yours!”
“So you keep reminding me, but who in heaven’s name, or should that be hell’s name, are you?”
“Just a man who had a choice of rotting in jail or coming to rescue you,” Jed snapped. “I made the wrong choice.”
“I think I did, too. I should have stayed in Khartoum.”
“Seeing that you are engaged to Reed, I understand your second thoughts—”
“It’s not Hayden who’s the problem. It’s you! You’re totally insufferable, ordering me about like—”
“Sorry if the service doesn’t suit you, but Jed Kincaid wasn’t raised to be any lady’s maid.”
“Service? What would you know about service? It is quite evident that you weren’t reared in a civilized home.”
“To my way of thinking, Kentucky is a hell of a lot more civilized than Egypt. We don’t steal women and sell them to the highest bidder.”
“You’re from America?” realized Victoria, shaking her head in sudden comprehension. “Well, that explains everything.”
With that, she made her way back to Ali, clearly preferring his company.
The sudden red-hot flare of his temper was familiar to Jed, but not the timing of its appearance. Ordinarily on a job, he prided himself in his ability to overlook irritants, concentrating on the task at hand and blocking out all else. Victoria Shaw, however, had become a burr under his saddle in less time than anyone but his youngest brother, Rory, could manage. It was all Jed could do to focus his attention on the falucca.
His life, as well as Ali’s, depended on his disregarding that irksome female, Jed told himself, sending a hateful glare in her direction. He must adhere to their plan, even though Ali was unable to assist him. For the moment, his own need to set Victoria Shaw down a notch or two would have to wait. Still, the pleasure that would eventually provide him would indeed be sweet, Jed promised himself, glancing over to where she sat. Very sweet, indeed.
Chapter Six
An American! After hours of sailing, Victoria raged silently in the stern of the falucca, recalling stories of tobacco-chewing, gunslinging cowboys from across the Atlantic, men who stopped at nothing in their desperate pursuit of pleasure and adventure. Is that what he imagined her to be, not that she would willingly give him pleasure!
Of course, knowing his nationality, she wasn’t at all shocked that he had dared to thwart Zobeir’s guards and steal her from the pens. Everyone knew that crude Americans had no common sense, no self-discipline, and no concern whatsoever for propriety.
Risking a glance over her shoulder at the renegade, Victoria shuddered. Even in profile, half obscured by the sail and the lengthening shadows of twilight, the man appeared menacing. His unshaven face and sun-burnished skin, grimy with gunpowder, proclaimed him a barbarous individual, no better than a criminal. Yet, unbelievably, Hayden had entrusted her well-being to him...unless Kincaid was lying and he wasn’t taking her back to Cairo.
After all, how would she know the difference? There were no landmarks she would recognize, no consulates to offer protection or advice, no one on whom she could rely, and she certainly didn’t know the first thing about surviving alone. Lord help her! Until she could revive the Egyptian, Kincaid was her only ally.
Determined to see to Ali’s welfare, Victoria stood up abruptly, eliciting unwelcome attention from her theoretical savior.
“For pity’s sake,” Jed scolded. “Can’t you sit still?”
“I—I only wanted to bathe your friend’s forehead, or can’t you spare a thought for him?”
“I wouldn’t have dodged bullets with Ali on my back if I didn’t plan to return him safely to his wife. However, right now, I prefer him unconscious.”
“How can you be that callous? Unless