The Sheikh Who Stole Her: Sheikh Seduction / The Untamed Sheikh / Desert King, Doctor Daddy. Dana Marton
not going to let them win,” she muttered as much to herself as to him. “They can all go to hell.” Then she realized they already had. She was too worried about Tariq for that thought to make her feel any better.
The water was several degrees cooler than the air, shaded as it was by the boulders and palm trees. She rolled Tariq in, clothes and all, and went in after him to keep him from drowning. A good soaking couldn’t hurt his sand-and-sweat-clogged wounds, and she had to bring his temperature down somehow. She dragged him farther in, gingerly, making sure the pool didn’t deepen so suddenly that she lost her footing.
He was unconscious. If she let him slip to the bottom of the pool, he would drown.
“Hang in there. We’re in the shade, we have water. The battle is half-won.” She moved slowly, step by step, all the way to the base of the boulders, where the water seemed the coolest.
This was probably where the stream that fed it bubbled up from the ground.
She took off the headdress she’d worn and rinsed it with one hand, then draped it across her hair. She did the same with Tariq’s, folding it and draping it across his forehead. Then she uncovered his injuries as gently as possible and washed his wounds.
He was in bad shape, the infection probably spreading through his blood. What was she supposed to do? He needed to go to the nearest E.R. But she couldn’t do that for him. So she did the only thing she could: she prayed.
They were at an oasis. With water. Somebody would come here sooner or later. All she had to do was keep Tariq alive until then.
She stayed in the cool water for a good half hour before making for shore, and then only because she realized that she’d left the camel untethered, with nothing to stop it from wandering away. But the animal seemed content standing by the water’s edge.
“Okay. Let’s rest on the sand for a while.” She floated Tariq’s listless body to shore, pushed and pulled him to dry land and made him comfortable in the shade. Then she tied the camel to the nearest palm tree, close enough to the water to drink if it needed to. But it seemed filled up for now, and chose instead to go after the grass.
Sara’s stomach growled. It’d been a while since she had regular meals.
She got a small bundle of food from the saddlebag, things she had collected from the bandits’ belongings, and the remaining bags of chips and dried fruit from the vending machine. She unwrapped a package of dried figs and some white mess that smelled like it could have been goat cheese, or something else entirely, and was possibly spoiled.
“You have to wake up if you want to eat.” She waved the cheese in front of Tariq’s nose, using it like smelling salts in Victorian times.
He didn’t react, and she didn’t dare force solid food down his throat for fear that he would choke. She gave him water, and then she ate, not nearly enough, leaving more than half of the loot for when he came to.
Hopefully, that would be soon. If he didn’t take nourishment, how was he to regain his strength and fight the infection?
The camel brayed, drawing her attention.
She’d assumed it was a male, based on its size. What if it wasn’t? If she could force some camel milk down Tariq’s throat … She was on her feet before she finished the thought, kneeling by the animal and peering underneath its body.
Definitely male.
She blinked her eyes for a second in dismay, then shook off the unproductive emotion. She wasn’t going to give up now. They were at an oasis. Somebody was going to come.
Tariq gave a low moan.
“Wake up. Come on.” She hurried back to him and drew his head onto her lap, leaning against a palm tree, wiping his face with the damp headdress. Their clothes were nearly dry already. She touched her palm against his forehead. It seemed the cold bath had lowered his fever a bit.
She would rest for a few moments, then repeat the procedure. There was little else she could do.
She must have dozed, because she woke to the sound of bells. And when she opened her eyes, confused and disoriented, she found herself surrounded by a gaggle of girls, who seemed to range in age from six to sixteen. They were staring at her with wide-eyed curiosity.
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