Page 48 of Kismet

“What possessed you to take the anasi into the desert without an escort? Taking her short distances is one thing, but this . . . this . . .” Jamal sputtered to a halt and glared at him with disgust.

“I know it was foolhardy,” he bit out, not needing any reminders of his mistake.

“Foolish?” Jamal stared at him with a look of contempt. “It showed a total lack of concern for the anasi’s safety. She’s your responsibility.”

Jamal’s tongue-lashing was no more painful than the one he was subjecting himself to internally. He’d been a fool. He could have easily gotten her killed, or worse, if Nassar had found them—the thought of her in that bastard’s arms chilled his blood.

“I realized my mistake the moment we found Omar,” he said quietly.

“So the sheepherder took you to task as well.” Angry satisfaction filled Jamal’s face.

“No,” he said harshly. “He was dead when we arrived. Hacked to pieces and left to rot.”

Stunned, Jamal stared at him for a long moment then spat on the ground. “Nassar.”

“Either him or Sheikh Cadi, but this kind of barbarism isn’t Cadi’s way. Nassar on the other hand . . .” Shaheen gritted his teeth. “Khalid needs to know Nassar might have formed an alliance with Cadi.”

“Agreed. I’ll send someone to Sidi Rahal immediately,” Jamal said in a tight voice. The Bedouin turned away then stopped and bowed his head. “I am disappointed in you, Shaheen. You are not worthy of thejahīm anasi.”

It was a slap in the face, and it stunned him. Never in their fifteen-year friendship had Jamal ever expressed anything but pride and satisfaction in him. It was as if he was a child again, and he was watching his father walk away in disgust. But this time, he truly deserved all the blame laid at his feet.

Allegra pushed her way up out of the depths of sleep. When she’d returned to her tent, she’d raised the wool side panels before lying down. Now a soft breeze danced across her cheek, stirring her awake. Turning her head, she stared out at the Atlas Mountains. It was late afternoon, and the sun was illuminating the craggy rock face of the tall, mountainous range. The memory of what she’d seen earlier flashed through her mind, and she winced at the images fluttering through her head. The horrific scene seared into her memory.

Sitting up, she hugged her knees into her chest. She was certain Shaheen would never have taken her with him if he’d suspected something was wrong. In fact, she’d seen the self-recrimination in his face as they’d fled the dreadful scene. His tenderness had startled and warmed her at the same time. It was a side of him that she’d not seen before.

Over the past month, he’d flirted with her, teased her, but the regard he’d shown her today was unlike anything he’d exhibited toward her previously. His actions had revealed him to be a man capable of deep feeling. A man who made her feel safe.

Safe where her welfare was concerned, and yet he was dangerous to every one of her senses. Last night, he’d nearly brought her to her knees with little more than a kiss. He’d not exerted any overt pressure on her in any way, but her body recognized him even when she couldn’t see him. Raw and fiery, her senses pulled at her whenever he was near until she ached with need.

Just the thought of him made her skin tingle, particularly beneath her tattoo. And with each new thing she learned about him, it became all the more difficult to resist him. She was experienced enough to know that Shaheen had suffered a terrible loss at the hands of a woman. A woman who had most likely been a courtesan. Whatever his suffering, he’d buried it deep inside, and then he’d built a wall around himself to keep everyone out. But there had been moments when he’d peeled back the layers to show her what type of a man he really was.

Another breeze blew through the opened tent, and it hinted at the night’s chill. Rising to her feet, she quickly unrolled three sides, securing the woolen flaps in place as Jamal had shown her. When she’d finished, she moved toward the last open wall of the tent. One hand on the rope holding the wool material in place, she studied the unobstructed view of the Atlas Mountains. If someone had told her four weeks ago she could be happy living here, she would have deemed them a liar. And yet she had been happy. Despite the brutality of what she’d seen today, she realized she didn’t want to leave this place. Leave him. She froze as a tingle skimmed across her back. She knew without turning around that he was behind her. She always knew when he was near. It was how her body responded to him, and she was tired of fighting the inevitable.

Slowly she turned around to meet his penetrating gaze. There was something powerful and magnetic about his dark brown eyes. They pulled her to him with the same force a mesmerist invoked on an audience. She didn’t want to resist. As her gaze flickered over him, she drew in a soft breath. He still wore the familiar black gambaz he always wore, but this evening he seemed more potently dangerous to her senses. The garment emphasized his hard, broad shoulders, and accentuated the predatory aura that always emanated from him. He’d discarded the crisscrossed gun and cartridge belt he usually wore for a beige belt with a small curved blade tucked into the band of cloth. He was the proud Amazigh warrior and every bit the Bedouin Sheikh.

“You are well?” His concern revealed he’d been worried about her, and she nodded.

“I doubt I’ll ever forget seeing that . . . that terrible sight, but I’m well. Thank you.”

He studied her for a long moment, then moved to stand at her side to stare out at the mountain range. It was an easy silence, but she knew he was still troubled.

“I should never have taken you with me this morning.”

He didn’t look at her, but kept his gaze focused on the mountains. Regret echoed in his voice, but there was anguish mixed with his remorse. It made her want to comfort him.

“You had no way of knowing what would happen.”

“No . . . but I should have been more cautious with your safety,” he bit out with an anger she knew was directed at himself. “I knew Nassar was nearby. I underestimated his boldness.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’re safe now, and that’s what’s important.”

“But that’s my point, Allegra. It does matter. What if we had met up with Nassar? I wouldn’t have been able to protect you. And the thought of that bastard touching you has been eating away at me since we returned to camp.” Something flared in his eyes as he looked at her, and the heat of it stole her breath away.

“Why?” Her soft query made him go rigid. The tension in him was razor sharp, and his mouth was taut with an emotion she couldn’t name. He spun away from her, and with repressed violence, he shoved his hand through the dark, silky waves of his hair.

“Because you’re mine,” he growled. “And because the thought of any man touching you is enough to drive me mad.”

Her heart skipped a beat. There was something more than desire layered beneath that possessive note in his voice. She wasn’t sure whether to rejoice or be terrified. Slowly, she moved to stand at his side and reached out to touch his arm. Uncertain of what to say to him, she remained silent as he turned his head to meet her gaze, his eyes dark with angry remorse.