Sheikh Seduction. Dana Marton
ducked behind the car when they reached it, hoping there’d be someone there to join, to gain strength from numbers. But nobody was alive save for her and Tariq, and the vehicle had been shot to oblivion.
“Why are they doing this?”
Tariq didn’t answer. He was too busy returning fire.
His arm was covered in blood. He’d lost too much. How long would he be able to keep up the fight? Sara planned to take the gun from him and continue shooting if he wavered, but the handgun clicked with his next shot. Empty.
He glanced at her, his dark eyes swirling with barely restrained rage that softened as he held her gaze, the look turning into something akin to regret.
This was it, she thought. As good as he was, he could do no more without firepower. They had seconds at most before the bandits reached them. And then… She couldn’t bear thinking about what would happen next. Her mind was filled with the gruesome images of the men who had been mercilessly massacred already. Jeff…
Sand flew up around them. The bandits had plenty of ammunition and were not afraid to use it.
“Take off your jewelry.” Tariq cast his useless weapon aside, then rolled up his sleeves to pull off an expensive watch. He buried it in the sand, along with his cell phone, which had the No Signal message on its display. “Quick,” he said when she hesitated, wondering about his request.
She slipped off her two rings, although, facing certain death, those few grams of gold were the last things she was worried about.
He brushed sand over them, as well.
The bandits were shouting and moving closer, emboldened by the lack of return fire.
Fear squeezed her lungs, so tight she could hardly breathe. She dipped her head when a bullet came too close, and could all of a sudden see the oncoming attack through the gap above the tire. For a moment she was struck speechless, but then she asked, with all the desperation she felt. “What do they want from us?”
She didn’t get to find out. Something hard connected with the back of her head and her world went dark.
Chapter Two
“Are the charges set?” He looked at the pumps dispassionately. For a man to reach his goals, sacrifices had to be made. A goal as large as his required an equally large sacrifice.
“Everything is ready, Shah. We are just waiting for the young sheik to leave and the workers to go on break. He wasn’t expected here today.”
How fortunate that he had come, anyway. “Detonate.”
“Now?” The idiot was staring at him, wide-eyed with sudden fear and lack of understanding.
He simply glared at the gaunt young man. He was not going to have his orders questioned.
“Yes, Shah,” the man said after a long pause, his face several shades whiter than a few moments ago. He scurried off to the utility trailer where he’d worked for the past three months and disappeared inside.
The explosion that shook the desert with elemental force was followed by another, then another, the charges going off in neat order, obliterating the target and everyone around it.
He watched the clouds of sand with satisfaction, then the flames that shot to the sky. His man appeared as the dust settled, running for him, for the car. The shah lifted his pistol and aimed carefully. His ears were still ringing from the explosion, so he barely heard the shot. But he allowed himself, at last, a satisfied smile. It wouldn’t be long now before he would reclaim for his son what was rightfully his and fulfill their family’s destiny.
SARA WOKE WITH A HEADACHE, her mouth so parched her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Sand, as fine as dust, ground between her teeth.
She opened her eyes, grateful for the shade of the busted Hummer she was leaning against. She lifted a hand to the back of her head and winced as her fingertips came in contact with a nasty bump.
Motionless bodies lay scattered on the sand. Fear and confusion washed over her as memories of the attack came back in a rush.
“Oh, God.” The words tore from her throat, followed by a horrified groan.
Faint clanging drew her attention, and she swung toward the sound, but it stopped almost as soon as it began. She pushed herself to standing and sneaked a peek over the car’s roof. The military trucks were nowhere to be seen. A man was working on the other Hummer, his upper body half-under the hood.
She recognized his powerful physique and the determination in his focused movements. Tariq.
She wasn’t alone. Thank God, she wasn’t alone.
“Excuse me,” she called out, her voice so raw she didn’t think he would hear her.
But he turned and glanced at her. “You’re awake. Good.” He scrutinized her with narrowed eyes.
She moved forward. Maybe all hope wasn’t lost yet. She stumbled to the closest man and sank onto her knees in front of him, turned his head, blanched at the fixed, empty stare, the dark lashes clumped with blood. The driver of the other Hummer. She recognized him before her gaze fell to his ring finger, which had been hacked off.
Tariq’s voice was tight as he spoke. “They’re all dead. I already checked.”
She drew her hands back. The sun was cooking her, the sand burning everywhere she touched it. A wave of dizziness assailed her. She was going to be sick, or faint or have a nervous breakdown. Surely all of those responses would have been appropriate under the circumstances.
“Have you called for help?” she asked weakly. Maybe he had walked around and found a spot where his phone worked.
“There’s no signal this far out. And they took the satellite phones from the cars. Took everything that could be sold at the nearest market. Get out of the sun.”
She stumbled back to the car to see if she could find some water, glanced through the window and gagged at the sight. One of the armed guards sprawled across the backseat, bathed in blood. Lots of it. She pushed away and lurched toward Tariq, fixing her eyes on the sand at her feet, not wanting to see any more dead.
He glanced at her when she stopped next to him. “You should drink.”
She couldn’t form the words to respond. Hardship on a business trip before had meant that the projector didn’t work. What had happened here was beyond all comprehension. She couldn’t begin to process and make sense of it.
She ran a hand over her body, scarcely able to believe that she had survived whole. Her brown skirt was speckled with dark stains, her top had been torn. She had bought the suit specifically for this trip because the skirt was longer than usual, the outfit suitably modest. She reached to her blouse, and found it stiff with dried blood. Not her blood; nothing hurt when she moved.
A faint sound in the distance startled her, and she launched herself against Tariq’s solid chest, thinking another attack imminent. Then she realized it was only the wind. She stepped back, embarrassed, away from the steadying hand he held out.
“Do you think they’ll return?” Her voice was shaky from nerves.
The look he gave her was an understanding one. “I don’t see why they would, but we better get out of here, anyway.” He walked around and pulled out a bottle of Evian from the back. He even twisted off the cap for her, before coming back and handing it over. “We’re lucky this rolled under the driver’s seat.”
“Thank you.” She drank sparingly, then tried to give the bottle back, but he wouldn’t take it.
Instead, he reached out and cradled her cheek in his hand, lifted her chin and rubbed something from her jaw with his thumb. Dry blood, most likely. The moment dragged out, and she stood still, surprised by the gesture, even a little breathless.
“You’ll be fine. Go sit behind the car, in