The Sheik Retold(72)

After what seemed interminable hours, Ahmed and Gaston returned with Jim in tow. The moment he saw me, Jim leaped from his horse, making no effort to contain his elation upon seeing me alive.

"Good God! It is you! Darling Diana. I'd all but given up hope!"

He swept me up into his arms and spun me around until I was dizzy. I feared he might try to kiss me and was even more alarmed at what would happen if he did. Despite his aloof air, Ahmed looked on with a murderous gleam.

I immediately stiffened in Jim's arms. "Please, Lieutenant Arbuthnot! You forget yourself."

"I-I'm sorry." Jim flushed crimson and nearly dropped me in his sudden release. "You just cannot imagine what it is to have found you at last."

"Found me?" I laughed. "I wasn't aware I was lost."

He gazed at me in befuddlement. "But there has been no word from you these two months! You all but disappeared. Dozens of inquiries have been made. Your poor brother had nearly given you up for dead!"

"Had he?" Poor brother indeed, I silently fumed. "That's curious, given the messages I sent."

"Messages?" Jim repeated. "No one was aware of any messages."

I feigned a look of puzzlement and then turned to Ahmed. "Monsieur le Vicomte?"

Ahmed stepped forward with a bow. "Assuredly there were half a dozen dispatches during your stay at my camp, mademoiselle."

"Lieutenant Arbuthnot," I addressed Jim, "you have of course met the Vicomte St. Hubert?"

"Yes." He gave Ahmed a long assessing look. "We are newly acquainted."

"He has done me an invaluable service, you know," I explained. "One I fear I can never repay. My brother's concerns were partially founded in that my guide Mustafa Ali did indeed steal my caravan and leave me for dead. Were it not for Vicomte Saint Hubert's intervention…who knows what might have become of me."

"Once more," Jim said, "we owe you a tremendous debt of gratitude, Monsieur le Vicomte."

Ahmed returned a cool smile. "I am only too pleased to have been instrumental in this…happy reunion." Ahmed's gaze flickered from Jim back to me, with an expression that was anything but joyful.

"Do you go directly to Oman, as originally planned, mademoiselle?" Ahmed continued our sham. "I shall be pleased to send with you my servant Henri."

"That will not be necessary," Jim replied on my behalf. "I have hired several capable men as an escort."

"But this is a dangerous region, mon ami. Have you not heard of the rebel sheik who seeks to rouse the tribes?"

"Yes. Ben Hassan. I hear the French officials have recently put a price on his head. Indeed, my greatest fear was that Miss Mayo might have fallen into that savage's hands. Once more I am grateful that you have provided her with protection and a safe escort." Jim's brows pulled together in a frown. "You have not yet said what business brings you so far into the desert, Monsieur le Vicomte."

"No, I have not." Ahmed smiled but said nothing more.

I almost laughed at the perturbed expression on Jim's face. "The vicomte is conducting research for a book," I explained. "He is writing about some of the lesser-known nomadic tribes and he has spent a great deal of time in the desert camps."

"Then might you be acquainted with this rebel sheik, monsieur?"

"I might," Ahmed replied enigmatically.

"Do you perhaps know the location of his camp?"

"Perhaps."

Jim's mouth compressed. I had to stifle my amusement now that Ahmed's merciless mockery had shifted to one other than myself.

"Right then." Jim turned back to me. "Have you need of rest, Miss Mayo? Or would you prefer immediately to depart this godforsaken desert?"

At the thought of leaving, my gaze shot to Ahmed, and my heart accelerated to a wild and erratic pace. When our eyes met, I had a brief fantasy that he would pick me up, throw me over his shoulder, and gallop off into the sunset, but the only move he made was to take my hand in his. He briefly caressed my knuckles with his thumb and then raised them to his lips in a gallant old-world kiss. "Adieu, ma belle," he murmured for my ears alone.

He inclined his head to Jim and then turned to Gaston, who waited with his horse, the black called the Hawk. He mounted and struck his spurs into the horse's sides without a backward glance and rode out of my life forever. My gaze followed his departing figure, straining through the dust and sand to catch the very last glimpse of the upright figure on the spirited black horse.

It was over. Chapter closed. My heart was near bursting with bittersweet regret, and my vision was blurred by the tears that filled my eyes. I shook my head violently and forced a smile to my lips. "Yes, Jim," I finally answered. "I should like to depart right away, but not for Oran. I first have urgent business with the French authorities in Algiers."





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


The city of Algiers, French Algeria-May 1920

The acting governor-general stubbed out his cigarette. "You must tell me, Mademoiselle Mayo, who was the perpetrator of this…this…outrage to your person?"

And in that moment I knew.

It was not the details of my intended murder that had captured his interest. No, he didn't care at all about me. He desired only to know what I knew, specifically, the name and location of the force behind the simmering unrest—my captor and my lover—Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan.