CHAPTER FIVE
Khalid’s hands tightened on the horse’s reins, his gaze never wavering from the woman illuminated by the torches lining the dock. His heart was pounding so hard the conversation between his cousins receded into the background.
Only a few more yards and Olivia would finally be his. This time there would be no barriers between them. No mixed signals, no bedroom doors, and definitely no clothes.
Khalid gripped the reins even tighter. His horse objected to the pressure by prancing slightly to the right, colliding with his cousin’s mount.
“What the hell are you doing?” Malik growled as he attempted to control his horse.
“Cut him some slack, brother.” Hassan chuckled. “Our cousin is just impatient for his woman.”
Malik snorted. “Why go through all this trouble for a westerner? There’s plenty of sand in the desert.”
Khalid remained silent. How could he explain his obsession with Olivia Bryant when he didn’t exactly understand it himself? To acquire her, he’d risked his relationship with one of his oldest friends and his company’s reputation by not competing in the Vanderbilt Cup.
All he knew was that she’d embedded herself so deeply under his skin, he couldn’t concentrate on anything but possessing her. In fact, it took all his willpower to stay away from her during the journey from New York. They slept on different decks, but he found himself at her door practically every day.
Thankfully, he remained resolute and kept his distance. Starving her of daily interaction had been part of his plan. After several weeks of isolation, Khalid hoped she would be dying for human contact even if it was with him.
So far his strategy seemed to be working. Even though he’d been filled with guilt seeing her on deck, basking in her newfound freedom, Khalid reconciled himself to his decision as she walked toward them meek as a lamb. And here he thought he would have to tame her. Triumphant, he smiled beneath the alasho.
“You’re lucky Dihya is settled for the winter,” Malik pointed out.
Khalid winced. Mentioning his mother was a low blow even for his cousin, Malik, who always made it his business to rain on someone’s parade. The sister of the amenokal, his mother had her brother’s ear when it came to ruling over the clans and moved him to decree the taking of women forbidden. Not because she didn’t believe in the custom, but because of the blood feud between the Saeeds and the Zarqawis.
Seven years ago, a small civil war had erupted between the two clans when Khalid’s older brother, Aksim, took Soraya Zarqawi for his bride. The feud led to heavy losses on both sides, from stolen property to the deaths of more than a half-dozen family members. Son or not, disobeying the edict was grounds for punishment, specifically expulsion from the tribe.
Fortunately for Khalid, his mother and their tribe were hundreds of miles to the east on the Adrar Plateau, a highland area of the Sahara Desert. The distance was a boon because it allowed him to call on Hassan’s hospitality without raising suspicion. His cousin’s clan remained on the coast, near the Mauritania-Senegal border, for most of the year, so it was the perfect place to take his prize and avoid the long arm of his mother’s authority. By the time winter arrived, he would have exorcised Olivia from his system and set her on a boat back to the States with no one the wiser.
While reveling in her freedom, Olivia missed the three horsemen waiting at the end of the dock. Speaking in a native tongue, they laughed and gestured with their hands. All except the third; his attention seemed to be riveted on her.
A head taller than his companions and broader in the shoulders, he was dressed like the others in loose pants, knee-length boots and a tunic. A black turban was wrapped around his head, ending in a veil covering the bottom portion of his face.
Olivia tried to detect something in the way the man sat on his horse that would identify him as Khalid, but she came up empty. She just hadn’t spent enough time in his company to tell him apart from his companions, if he were among them that all.
Olivia abandoned her guessing game when her escort stopped several feet from their welcome party. They exchanged words and a bag of coins. With a grin stretching from ear to ear, her attendant jingled the coins before placing the sack inside his robe.
Trembling with rage, Olivia saw red. They were practically treating her like she was a commodity, a slave to be exchanged for a few coins.
“Ta-aal,” her escort motioned toward the three men.
With anger scorching a hot path through her veins, Olivia threw her shoulders back and lifted her chin. As she stepped forward, the night was suddenly split by the peel of cathedral bells. Olivia’s heart pounded with excitement. Even in a foreign land, a church could provide her sanctuary.
As she watched one of the men move to dismount, she rushed forward. Shocked, the man hesitated, giving her the opportunity to create a diversion. Her hand shot out and smacked the horse’s rump. His mount reared up, but Olivia didn’t wait around to see if the rider had been unseated. She bunched the caftan in her hands and took off toward town.
Thankful for the cover of darkness and guided by the moon, Olivia raced through the streets past shops and restaurants already closed down for the day. Hearing the pounding of horses’ hooves, Olivia ducked into an alleyway. Not content with just hiding, she navigated through the narrow passage. Several doors stood ajar, and she glimpsed at the occupants sitting down to dinner, but she kept going. Everyone and everything was a threat to her freedom. Her only salvation would be the church.
With the opening to the alley looming ahead, Olivia picked up her pace. Bursting onto the street, exertion burning her lungs, she turned left away from the harbor, and skidded to a halt. The church stood only a hundred yards away, but between her and freedom was one of the horsemen. Back to her, he hadn’t noticed her. Heart pounding from a way too close call, she slipped back into the alley.
Olivia watched him amble up the street and turn the corner. Her path now open, she stuck her head out of the shadows, her caftan lifted above her ankles, preparing herself for the last leg. She looked left then right. With the path on both ends of the cobbled street clear, she stepped down. Her foot barely made contact when she was suddenly yanked back into the alley against what felt like a slab of meat and smelled like fish and piss. Her headdress tumbled to the ground and Olivia almost gagged.
Frightened, she struggled, but the arm wrapped around her waist held her arms pinned to her sides. And the hand covering her mouth cut off the scream welling in her lungs.
“Well, who do we have here?”
He spoke English? She shouldn’t have been surprised since Britain and France still fought over the continent.
“You and I are going to have some fun, love.”
Olivia’s blood ran cold. She’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire.
“Release her.” The voice came from the shadows behind them. Startled, the man spun around with her in tow. Olivia sighed in relief. Even in complete darkness, she could discern the exotic inflection of Khalid’s accent. The light from the apartment above them silhouetted his head and shoulders. At well over six feet, he was an imposing figure.
“And if I don’t?” the Englishman asked, his tone defiant.
Khalid answered with a quick jab that barely kissed her ear. Gurgling and clutching at his throat, her assailant stumbled into the street. Khalid grabbed hold of Olivia’s arm and pulled her behind him. His free hand struck out again, cuffing the other man under the jaw. Blood gushed from his mouth and nose as he arched awkwardly on his toes. Not giving him any opportunity to retaliate, Khalid punched him again, knocking her assailant flat on his back.
Gasping, Olivia tried to break free, causing Khalid to tighten his grip on her arm. “You will watch,” he growled, “witness the consequences of your stupidity.” He lifted his boot, the heel hovering over the man’s skull.
Unable to take anymore, Olivia fell to her knees. She wrapped her arms around Khalid’s leg and began to cry.
“Please stop,” she whispered. “He doesn’t deserve this. No one does.” Olivia wasn’t sure when the line blurred between begging for mercy to save her assailant or herself, but Khalid didn’t give her the opportunity to question her current state of mind. His hand curved around the back of her neck and he brought her against him at the same time he ripped the scarf from his face, finally revealing his identity.
“He deserves it and then some. You know why?”
Olivia shook her head, his unusual eyes holding her mesmerized. “N-no.”
“No one touches what’s mine.”
Without any warning, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. In spite of the bloody pulp lying at their feet, Olivia couldn’t stop the electric current ripping through her. Khalid Francois Du?s was just as magnetic as the day she’d first laid eyes on him.
Olivia groaned as he forced her lips apart to explore her mouth. His tongue slid over hers, teasing her, almost mocking her. To her horror, she acquiesced, loving every second of his assault. Remembering the night when she fantasized about him lying next to her naked, Olivia edged closer, pressing her body against his.
“?????? ??? ????!”
With a ragged curse, Khalid broke away from her. Breathing heavily, his chest rose and fell as he gazed down at her, while his companions laughed and smacked their lips, making kissing noises.
“What did he say?” she asked, her own breathing labored.
“Get a tent.”
Humiliated, Olivia turned away. After all he’d done, she’d fallen into his arms like a common whore.
“Olivia.” His voice sounded unusually gentle, but she ignored him and the feelings he aroused. A beat passed between and then he pulled her behind him to his horse and took both of her hands in his and tied her wrists together with rope.
Olivia smiled to herself. He was afraid she was going to bolt again. Her mad flight had knocked some of the wind from his sails. Good. Now the bastard knew his plan wouldn’t be a walk in the park. Soon, he’d rue the day he ever laid eyes on her.
They rode through the night, skirting the coastline. Under different circumstances, riding horseback on the beach would’ve been romantic. Instead it was a living nightmare Olivia couldn’t awake from. With each mile, she wondered if she’d ever see Harry or her home again.
The uncertainty of her situation hit home on the second day of their journey when Khalid suddenly blindfolded her. Up to then, all she needed to do was follow the coastline back to the tiny port. Now, with the sound of the ocean fading in the distance and the climate growing hot and hyper-arid, any chance of escape not only seemed fruitless, but downright life-threatening.
“Is the blindfold really necessary?” Sitting ramrod stiff, she and Khalid shared the same mount.
“I can’t have you memorizing your way back to Saint Louis.”
“Saint Louis?” Olivia racked her brain, trying to place their exact location, but she came up empty. “Where exactly are we?”
“Africa. The Sahara desert to be more exact.”
“Africa?” Olivia whispered.
His lips brushed her ear and despite her hate for him, her pulse raced and her breath caught in her throat.
“When I want something, I will go to great lengths to obtain it.”
Olivia didn’t balk at his arrogance. He’d more than proven his point by abducting her.
Per her escort’s usual routine, they stopped at dawn. Olivia was lowered to the ground and her blindfold removed. Thinking they were simply resting, she was shocked to find they’d entered an encampment with more than a dozen black tents.
Olivia tensed as men, women, and children began pouring out of the dwellings to greet them. The festive mood did nothing to dispel her disquiet. She’d come to the end of her journey. Soon she would have to face the music. Filled with trepidation, Olivia watched Khalid as he talked easily with the people crowding around him. Seeing him like this, in his element, made Olivia almost forget she hated him.
As if sensing the knife digging in his back, Khalid turned around. His gaze locked with hers. Tall, dark, and handsome, with his head scarf looped casually around his neck, he looked like a wild desert bandit. Mesmerized, Olivia watched him close the distance between them. Under his spell, she didn’t protest when he took hold of her wrist and pulled her behind him.
He led her to a mid-sized tent framed by palm trees. Curtained on three sides by heavy black canvas, the entrance consisted of a sheer gauzy material. A brazier hanging from the weight bearing pole in the center illuminated the main area. Oriental rugs covered the floor, and a handful of hand-carved wooden furniture topped with multicolored pillows saved the space from being sparse.
“Is this place yours?”
“Temporarily.” Khalid pulled her to the rear of the tent. He threw back a curtain, revealing a low bed, large enough for two. Cheeks burning, Olivia tugged on her hand. To her surprise, he let her go and moved deeper into the sleeping area. “My brothers and I spent half the year in France, the other half in Africa.”
“Sounds exciting,” Olivia sneered as he sat down on the bed and removed his boots.
“Very. My mother and father separated when I was six. So my two brothers and I were shuttled back and forth across two continents, used as pawns for their sick tug of war. I couldn’t wait to reach my majority.”
Olivia refused to feel sorry for him. He of all people should know what it felt like to be ripped from one’s home.
“Enough about me. Let’s talk about you and why I brought you here.”
Olivia gulped as he slowly tugged his tunic over his head and threw it aside. Without an ounce of fat, Khalid was in better shape than she could have imagined. Before her resolve slipped, she pulled her gaze away and centered it on a wooden chest in the corner. Her precautionary measure didn’t quite work. She no longer had the tempting view, but his broad shoulders, corded abs and wide chest spattered with dark hair were already burned into her memory.
“No need,” Olivia snapped. She was one part angry with him and two parts angry with herself for the dull ache throbbing between her legs. “You’re a sadistic egomaniac who won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”
“If that’s what a sadistic egomaniac is then yes, I go after what I want. Your being here is your fault.”
Abandoning her focus point, Olivia’s gaze found his. “M-my fault?” she sputtered.
Khalid stood and his pants slipped dangerously low around his hips, uncovering a line of hair disappearing beneath the waistband. Heart pounding, Olivia followed the trail of dark hair.
Bad move.
His cock seemed to thicken and grow under her scrutiny, tenting the loose material of his trousers. Thank goodness for the bit of string holding up his pants or she would’ve spontaneously combusted. The throb between her legs had already turned into an annoying ache, and her thighs were so slick she could smell her arousal.
“You tempted me. You bewitched me from the first moment I laid eyes on you.” He stalked toward her. Olivia didn’t shy away. Like a magnet, she was drawn to him. “I opened myself to you. I offered you the world, even marriage. And yet you threw it back in my face.” He towered over her but didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. His body heat and masculine scent, a heady mix of sweat and sunshine, caused enough damage on their own.
Olivia’s squeezed her eyes shut. She needed to pull it together, be strong. “Why is it so hard for you to take no for an answer?”
“I can accept rejection,” he replied. His breath tickled her cheek and she shuddered. “It’s a bitter pill to swallow when I know it’s a lie.” His fingers slipped into her hair and he tugged down gently. Olivia moaned. She felt his touch all the way down to her *.
“Even now with your body burning for mine, you want to deny us both.”
He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers. It wasn’t a gentle kiss but a full-on assault of her lips, her tongue, her spirit. Breathless, Olivia’s knees buckled and she reached out for him. His skin was smooth and unbelievably warm.
Without breaking the kiss, Khalid slowly walked them backward. Olivia followed. He was like a drug and she was quickly becoming an addict.
Somehow they ended up stretched out on the low dais, arms and legs entwined, just like in her fantasy.
“You have no idea how much I’ve longed for this moment,” he whispered huskily as he pushed up on his elbows. Planted between her thighs, he wedged himself against her sex. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Now I can do anything to this beautiful body of yours and no one would come running to rescue you.”
He couldn’t have done more to dampen her desire if he had dumped a pail of cold water over her head.