On the Line (Special Ops) (10 page)

Chapter Eight

W
hen the door
closed she turned back to look at Preston. She could see the look of worry in his eyes. She hadn’t been gone that long—at least she didn’t think she had.

“Ariana?” His questioning eyes beckoned her forward.

“I’m okay,” she knelt before him and placed the palm of her hand against her thigh as she sat back on her heels. “They wanted me to change into this.”

“Another costume,” he cocked his eyebrow as he looked her over.

“Apparently the guy whose harem I am about to join first saw me in a costume like this, when I was sixteen and over in Morocco for my first Belly Dance Universe competition. He liked it so much he had a replica designed and he wants to see me again in this.” She shook her head. “I am going to be sex slave number ninety-nine—probably, but the good news is he wants you dead. Apparently you killed his brother.”

He shrugged. “I was career military, and I have had this search and rescue firm going for a while now so I would say I have probably had my share in killing a lot of brothers to someone. Actually I guess I should say it’s Micah’s firm really, he just gave me the reigns and a huge part of the partnership, but this baby was his idea.”

She smiled. “Giving credit where credit is due, very noble of you.” There was no malice in her voice at all. She still admired and respected him to the fullest. “The man’s name in Ammon. Do you know him?”

Preston growled fiercely.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Long story,” he grumbled. “I would give you the details, but I’m trying to figure out how to get us out of here, unless you want to be sex slave number ninety-nine.”

She shook her head no. “If it comes to that I very much plan on dying with you.”

“You’re not dying,” he said harshly.

“I’m not planning on it. That’s why I got this,” she pulled a tiny piece of metal from her hip scarf. “I may have accidently on purpose fallen against one of the tables while they were taking me out the room. I saw this while I was changing and I thought maybe I could use it to pick the lock of your chains like you taught me to.”

“You remember that?”

Preston was always trying to teach her something, including how to shoot, even though she had horrible aim he had managed to get her to a moderate level of accuracy. “I remember many things,” she said before going forward with her plan. The first part of her plan was to get him out of his bindings. The second part of her plan was to pick the lock on the barred window and judging from the size of the window she knew that she and Preston could both fit through the opening one at a time. After that she didn’t have much of a plan other than running fast, hard and far away from this place; that part of the plan was going to have to be up to him.

“You can get us away from here, right?” She looked at him pleadingly.

He nodded. “I’ll do everything I can, Ariana. You know that.”

“I do,” she admitted. When Preston gave his word he stuck with it—except for their marriage vows that is. Even though she had been the one to send the divorce papers he had been the one to walk away long before that and on top of that he hadn’t fought for her. The memory of how things went down was still vivid in her mind, only now she questioned if sending the papers was the best solution. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but given the fact that he hadn’t come after her, even after all these years, maybe it had been the best thing. Maybe he wanted out and he just needed her to make the move so he could have his way out. She felt a single tear cascade down her cheek.

“Hey,” he said softly. “We’ll get out of here.”

That wasn’t what she was worried about, although maybe it should have been. “Okay, I have it,” she said as she managed to get the last shackle undone. Preston didn’t waste any time getting to his feet. She thought it would take him a few minutes because he had been sitting for so long, but apparently he was ready to move.

“I thought you might be stiff.”

He mumbled something she didn’t understand and then he looked out the window, checking to see if everything was clear. “I made good use of the breaks they gave me to use that,” he pointed to the toilet. “It wasn’t ideal movement, but it worked. My legs are ready to move. I hope yours are too.” He picked the lock on the gated bars covering the window and when he was sure they could get out he pulled it open and went out first, continuously checking for danger while she managed to get herself out the window too. Being in the cabaret costume was both help and hindrance. There was enough ease in the garment to move, but it was long and flowing with only the hip scarf holding the upper parts down. Trying to crawl out a window in an outfit like that wasn’t easy, and when she nearly tumbled to the ground she realized just how uneasy it was. If it hadn’t been for Preston she would have fallen flat on her face. Fortunately she was able to curtail her panicked scream at seeing the ground nearly connecting with her face, or maybe it was her face nearly connecting with the ground as the ground hadn’t moved at all.

“Quietly,” he said as he pulled the barred window gate closed and cautiously moved them forward. He kept moving them forward slowly until they hit a spot where running seemed to be the best option and then they ran. There was nothing but desert ahead of them. She had no idea where they were going and she had a feeling he didn’t either, but as long as they were moving away from that place she wouldn’t worry about where they were headed right now.

When they stopped running she was ready to breathe a sigh of relief until Preston reminded her that the area was volatile and even though their captors weren’t hot on their tail—at least he didn’t think they were just yet—they still had to worry about other enemies.

“That’s just great,” she had said. “See, that is why I don’t come over here. They’re all crazy.”

He laughed.

“You think that’s funny?”

“You have been avoiding this area like the plague since Morocco happened.”

“No, I have been avoiding this area like the plague since crazy people with an obsession with bombs took over.” She sighed. “Thankfully this outfit doesn’t have the coin beading or we would have made far too much noise getting out of there.”

“You can take some of that stuff off if you want.”

“And put it where? I think if I leave it buried in the sand somehow they’ll still find it and they’ll know exactly which way we went. Besides, this arm bracelet is heavy so it’s more than likely real gold. We might need to barter it for something like food, water, a camel.”

He laughed heartedly. “Maybe we can barter it for a bike.”

“As long as we get out of here I don’t really care what we use.”

He nodded as they walked along.

“It’s really hot out here,” she said absently as she shielded her eyes to look up at the sky. “Should be dark soon though…you think?”

“Sun will be setting soon,” he told her. “Then we’ll have to worry about this tomorrow. No water. No food, but I’ll take this hell over the alternative any day.”

“True,” she whispered. “I am still scared, Preston. I mean this is bad, this is really bad. Stranded in a foreign country with far too many potential enemies and no friends to help. What are we going to do?”

“Hey,” he stopped walking and turned her to face him. “I’ll get us out of here. And if we’re lucky maybe there will be some covert U.S. military men out here somewhere.”

“And if we’re not lucky?”

“I’ll still get us out of here.”

She nodded. “Yeah, we’re going to make it. I’m going to keep walking until I drop.”

“And then I’ll carry you.”

“How do you do it? You have been locked up and shackled and you’re spry as a chicken.”

He started laughing so hard she wanted to slap him. “Spry as a chicken? Wow,” he laughed again. “One would think you grew up in the south instead of the Midwest.”

She mumbled her discontent with his words. She had been born and raised in the Midwest so it would have made sense to move back there after their divorce, but she hadn’t. She wanted to stay in Texas. Maybe she wanted to stay because she had held on to hope that they could make things right one day. That was a long time of wishful thinking, but she couldn’t help it—she still loved the man.

He was still just as handsome. He was older, a few lines around his eyes that she would call smile lines, and some gray hair mixing with the dark hair, but he was still handsome—maybe more so today than he was eighteen years ago, if that were even possible because Preston was a handsome man even back then.

“Why don’t you take that hip scarf off and drape it over your head to block the sun?”

“Because…well…this is a little embarrassing,” she mumbled. “I had on a darker costume when I arrived and my panties matched that costume. This is clearly white and very sheer and without this hip scarf my underwear will be on display for everybody to see.”

“Am I missing the rest of the patrons of the desert here or something? It’s just the two of us and I have seen your panties before, Ariana.”

“You haven’t seen these,” she said. “And you haven’t seen them in a long time. And I’ve gained a little weight. Not much, but some.” She was rambling now. Why was she rambling?

“I noticed. It looks good on you. But it can’t be more than ten pounds, fifteen at the most.”

“Twelve,” she said. Although maybe this wasn’t the conversation she wanted to have. She didn’t need to draw attention to the changes her body had undergone. Wait, he had said the weight looked good on her. She smiled.

“You look great, Ariana and you know it. You’re aging well.”

“So are you,” she returned the compliment.

“Seriously,” he stopped walking and stepped in front of her. Putting his hands on the knot in the hip scarf he untied it and removed it from her body. “I promise not to peek.” He winked and she laughed. He had already peeked. There was no way he couldn’t peek given the sun illuminating the fabric and making it look like an open window to her barely hidden flesh.

“Okay,” she mumbled as she took the scarf from him and placed it over her head. Maybe it would help block out some of the sun until the sun set and they were able to get some reprieve from the glaring heat.

Preston couldn’t help but notice the lace panties beneath her chiffon skirt. Good lord what he wouldn’t give to pull those panties off and get to the areas they covered. He shouldn’t be having those thoughts about her. She had left him. The reasoning behind it still wasn’t clear to him because in his mind she had to know he loved her. He was still trying to figure out how one simple statement could have been interpreted so wrongly. If she had loved him then she wouldn’t have sent him divorce papers. She would have come after him.

They walked along in silence, each one either afraid to say anything or not knowing what else to say. He had questions and he wanted answers, but now really wasn’t the time. Right now he needed to focus on what they were doing and where they were going other than wandering aimlessly in the desert. He didn’t have a gun, which he hated being without. He didn’t have a compass, and he had no idea of where his exact location was. He could navigate by the position of the sun and by the stars so by nightfall he should have confirmation if they were headed in a good direction or not. Navigating away from their captors was a good thing, but eventually they would need water, and thus far they weren’t near any.