Taken by Storm (ROMANTIC REALMS COLLECTION) (5 page)

Without speaking, Tahj knelt in the dirt, unrolling the blanket to lay it out by the fire. He lifted his eyes to hers. Bashea watched him guardedly, perhaps wondering if he expected her to join him in the bed he made. She glanced nervously in Radeem’s direction, but he was still crashed out, snoring incessantly. It was as if she was measuring the odds, determining if she could fight Tahj on her own if she had to, or if Radeem would help him to subdue her, and do…whatever else to her.

Tahj rose and stalked to the edge of the clearing. He couldn’t stand to see the pain in the girl’s eyes, knowing, in a roundabout way, he had caused it. Sure, he didn’t order the raid on her village, but it was undertaken to play a joke on him, so he felt some of the blame was his. As a leader, he hadn’t won over his troops, and this was the result. She didn’t trust him, and why should she? Her thinking poorly of him hurt. At the same time, it angered him that the men had acted out of hate and lust, and the pure evil dwelling within them.

These thoughts led him to others, thoughts of his father, whose body lay broken upon the bed, blood poured out upon the tiles Tahj had crawled over as a baby. And even as he saw this face, another one was superimposed over it—Kadeesh’s, his dear brother. Boltar had taken Tahj’s entire family away from him, and the need to avenge their deaths burned in his heart. But there was nothing to be done tonight, and he needed first to right things with the girl.

Tahj turned back to the camp. To his surprise, he found Bashea curled up where she had been, lying on her side against the tree he’d lugged out of the woods, the blanket abandoned. He headed silently toward Bashea, careful to avoid any branches that might snap and wake her. He retrieved the blanket, and, bending down next to her, noted how tightly she was curled up against the cold, how her hands lay clenched by her face. Tahj stretched out the blanket over her small body, being sure it covered the injured shoulder. He paused a second more, soaking in her face, and then unconsciously reached out to run the back of his hand down a soft cheek.

He felt a slight quiver under her skin. She had flinched at his touch. She was awake then, only pretending to sleep. He understood now—she was afraid to face him, afraid of what demands she imagined he would have. He drew back his hand and retreated to the other side of the fire. But, through the night, he continued to watch her as she slept. The moon traveled over the sky before he finally fell asleep, curled up on his side as she was, feeling suddenly very, very alone.

CHAPTER SIX

He was standing over the fire, mere feet away, with his back to her, gnawing on something, when the girl woke with a start. He heard the sharp intake of her breath and turned, holding a greasy finger to his lips. Radeem squatted down
in front of her. “The prince is still asleep.”

Straightening, he spun to sit
next to her, too close, causing her to sit up and draw the blanket around her more tightly, though he pretended not to notice. He was staring at Tahj thoughtfully. Tahj lay on his side, head on his folded hands, with no pillow, no blanket, curled up against the cold. “He didn’t sleep well,” Radeem commented.

The girl followed his gaze. “He didn’t?”

Radeem turned to stare at her. “Coming across your father with his throat slit, and then holding your dying mother in your arms will do that to you.” He got up, disgruntled, angered at Boltar and his men and sore from sleeping on the ground. He was ravenous, having found only a small amount of dried meat in their packs, and all that made for a grumpy captain. Radeem rarely missed a meal.

He strode off to the horses to search the packs some more. He glanced up, catching the girl as she gazed at Tahj. There was something going on there, he was sure of it. The concern on Tahj’s face when he found out she was hurt, the way she was looking at him now—there was definitely something going on. It amused him—he’d never seen Tahj with a woman—and irritated him. She was a beautiful girl, after all, and had no idea he was married, yet she chose Tahj over him. He fished an apple, which he had overlooked, out of a pack and then strode back over to her with purpose and sat down, chomping on
his find it noisily.

“So,” Radeem began uncertainly, “where is your home?” He turned toward her, resting a forearm on his knee, holding the apple loosely, in what he hoped was a casual position, not bothering to tie his shirt so she could see his massive chest. With his free hand he reached over to play with her hair.

She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t pull away. “Tamook, at the foot of Mt. Sabalan.”

He gestured to her bandaged shoulder. “Tahj do that?” he asked, with just a hint of accusation.

She nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

“What’s your name,
Ziba
?” he queried, using his best, honeyed tone, looking into those fathomless eyes and letting himself get lost for a moment with a stupid grin on his face.

“Bashea,” she answered through clenched teeth.

“Bashea…pretty, like you.” Radeem ran a finger down the girl’s cheek, giving her his most charming smile, but in exchange he got a death stare meant to put him in his place.

Out of nowhere, a pack landed at Radeem’s feet. He jumped in surprise. He had been so engrossed with Bashea, he hadn’t noticed Tahj rising. “We need to leave,” Tahj said coldly.

If Radeem had thought something was going on between them before, this only confirmed it. Oh, yes, he’d bet a silver coin on Tahj being jealous just now. Radeem smiled up at him. “You’ve got it, Your Highness.” He rose and offered the girl his hand. She looked from him to Tahj, but the prince was walking away. She placed her hand in Radeem’s, letting him help her to her feet. But when Radeem pulled Bashea in close she gave him the same icy stare. He backed up, holding his hands out as if offering her his surrender.

Tahj had stormed past them to the horses and now came back, squatting to roll up Bashea’s blanket. She bent to help him, but he whipped the end out of her hand. “I’ve got it,” he snapped, not looking up at her. He continued to roll the blanket up roughly and she backed away, rubbing a hand where the blanket must have burned as it was jerked from her grip.

Tahj would have felt bad about that if he wasn’t too busy fuming over what he saw when he opened his eyes after a horrible night’s sleep. Just as the bright sunlight chased away his nightmares, he heard their voices. He sat up just as Radeem was reaching out to touch her hair. She did not flinch at his touch. From Tahj’s angle, he couldn’t see Bashea’s face, just Radeem’s big, fat, foolish one, smiling at her like he was about to eat her up for dessert, and Tahj was angry.

It was perfectly reasonable to be angry with her. She sat there and flirted with Radeem, who was a complete stranger, and she shrunk away from Tahj’s touch like he was diseased. Who wouldn’t be angry? And then when Radeem touched her face, that was too much. Tahj thought about it as he threw the pack onto Ballamore’s back, nearly flinging it off the other side in his fury. He thought about it as he stamped out the fire, kicking the logs apart and spreading the remains high and wide.

“You all right there, Prince?” Radeem asked, peering at him curiously.

“Fine. Just ready to go,” Tahj mumbled, not wanting to have to explain himself. Besides, at the moment he was pretty sure any extended conversation with Radeem would end up with the good captain being belted.

“Sure thing,” Radeem responded in a chipper manner, which set Tahj’s teeth on edge. Tahj reached up for the saddle horn, stepping into the stirrup. “Bashea,” Radeem added, drawing out her name, “can ride with me today. Give Ballamore a rest.”

Tahj froze for a second, his muscles tense. “Fine.” He finished pulling himself up and sat, staring straight ahead.

“My dear.” Radeem offered Bashea a hand to help her onto the horse.

She took it, but muttered under her breath, “I’m only letting you help me because my shoulder is sore.”

“Of course.” Radeem winked and Bashea frowned at him. He climbed on in front of her. Tahj wondered about the exchange for a moment, but then decided he didn’t care. Whatever was going on between the pair was none of his business. None of his damn business.

They took off, heading north through the trees, not running, but keeping a steady clip all the same. Tahj just wanted to be done with the whole thing, leave the girl with her family and…what? What was he to do now? His home was gone, his family was gone… But he’d escaped with his life; he would at least be grateful for that. He would start a new life somewhere else. Somewhere…far away from these two, he concluded. He tried not to look, but every once in a while he couldn’t help but glance over at her hands around Radeem’s waist, as they had been around his the day before. Once, Bashea glanced back over at him, and he turned back around. He didn’t want to look into those eyes of hers.

At midday they stopped in a meadow by a stream. Tahj chewed on some of the leather-like meat, which had been stored in salt in a pouch inside their packs. He lifted his eyes and saw Bashea. He froze, and his lips whispered her name involuntarily as he watched her dip to get water out of the stream. She brought it to her mouth and drank long, and then splashed some on her neck, stretching and closing her eyes. She was hot and weary, he knew, as he felt the same. A light breeze blew the hair back from her face, and he dropped his eyes, afraid she would see him watching her again, and, no doubt, think he was having perverse thoughts about her, which, he had to admit, he wasn’t far from.

When Tahj glanced up again, Radeem had stepped up under the branches of the trees near the water, resting a hand against a limb as he talked to Bashea. She looked up at him and responded with something Tahj could not hear, but his stomach churned.

“Let’s get moving,” Tahj called out, packing things up again.

“What’s your hurry, Tahj?” Radeem queried, returning from across the meadow.

“Nothing. No hurry. I just want to be done with it.”

“Done with it?”

He shrugged. “Take the girl to her home. Done with it. Done with her.” Tahj said it casually, but it was far from the truth. The last thing Tahj wanted was to be done with the girl.

“
It is going to be an interesting trip from here on out,” Radeem speculated. “The journey to the girl’s home is only a day long, had we crossed the desert. But skirting it as we did, in the shadow of the trees, it will take a bit longer. I know this part of the kingdom, and we are going to run out of trees soon. We will need to cross out in the open eventually.”

It was just this the two men were discussing when
Bashea returned. “We’ll need to get a hold of some tents,” Radeem was saying. “We won’t last a day without them in the desert.” He looked up when she entered the shade where they reclined. “Our tree cover will be running out in a few hours. We are nearing the city of Shiraz.” He turned back to Tahj. “We cannot enter as we are, dirty and bloodstained. It will arouse suspicion, and Boltar may already have sent some of his men there. They would have made it easily before us, crossing the desert.”

“What are your suggestions?” Tahj listened to Radeem attentively.
At least him could trust Radeem in this.

Radeem chewed on their dilemma for a minute before coming up with a solution. “I know. I know just what to do. I have a friend. He won’t ask any questions, and he lives just outside the boundaries of the city. It’s on the far side of Shiraz, so we will have to travel around it to get there, but we will go there, with your permission.”

Tahj peered up at Bashea. He felt responsible for her safety, and exposing her to strangers, even if Radeem knew them, made him nervous.

S
he nodded her head. “If that is what we must do…”

Tahj stood. “Take us there.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Bashea sat uncomfortably behind Radeem. Not because of his earlier flirtation—she had put an end to that. It was simply because he was a large man, which left little room for her on the horse. No, Bashea could read Radeem easily. Probably married, with a couple of children, a flirt, but harmless. Though she had cringed earlier when Radeem called her
ziba,
“beautiful,” she knew he had no idea those other men had used the same word, or that the sound of it now made her skin crawl. Radeem may be a letch, but he wasn’t a threat; she was certain of that.

It was Tahj she couldn’t figure out. Cool one minute, warm the next, like a desert gecko moving from sun to shade. He had barely spoken to her all morning, or Radeem, for that matter, yet he seemed so pleasant the night before. She mused over his covering her with the only remaining blanket and sleeping in the cold without one. She rubbed her hand down her cheek, remembering the way he touched her when he thought she was sleeping. She had been frightened it was just a precursor to more. That if she did not give him what he wanted, he would just take it, as the others had. But when she woke and saw him sleeping on his side in the cold without a blanket, he looked like a little boy. A cold, lonely little boy. She figured then that she had been wrong about him. Now, she was totally confused.

As she wondered about her traveling companions, the trees on her right began to thin out. Between the branches she caught sight of a solitary house ahead. Radeem led them until they were behind the small home, a hovel, really, with a thatch roof and a dirty wooden portico, though living this close to the desert, it was probably impossible to keep it clean. They broke from the trees for the first time to approach the house. The owner heard their horses and came out into the shade of an overhang that ran the length of the house, peering through the swirling dust quizzically. When he recognized Radeem, he bent and called joyfully into the house.

“Ah, Radeem, my friend,” the old man said as the captain dismounted. He took Radeem by the shoulders and kissed him vigorously on both cheeks. “It has been too long. Welcome. Welcome.” With the last he turned to Tahj and Bashea, who bowed slightly. “Friends of Radeem, you are welcome in my house.”

Before the words were even out of his mouth, three girls swarmed out of the house squealing Radeem’s name and gathering around to kiss him. Radeem blushed. “Girls! Girls! You must be calm. There’s plenty of me for all of you.” The trio’s bright clothing stood out against the bland background of the desert like cactus flowers. Two of the girls took Radeem’s elbows to lead him inside and the third followed behind, obviously fuming because she had been left out.

Tahj and Bashea looked at each other and smiled. One couldn’t help being amused, it seemed. Appearing a little embarrassed by his girls’ behavior, but equally proud of them, the father ushered his other two guests into the house behind them, their twittering almost making speech impossible.

Once inside the house’s walls, however, the older man addressed them sternly, “Girls!” But then he chuckled. “I cannot even hear what my guests are saying.”

He turned to Tahj and Bashea now. He was short and round, with a snowy-white beard and white clothing with a wide, gold sash, his eyes quick and merry. “I am Faraz, and these are my daughters. Etti—” One of the girls, dressed in the same sort of flowing jumpsuit Bashea wore, stepped forward and curtsied. She had on one of the traditional veils and shiny, metal medallions glinted from all over her vibrant orange clothing; her bright eyes swept over Tahj appraisingly before she stepped back. “This is my next eldest, Dariya.” A second girl stepped forward wearing the same outfit in a pastel green, and the third, and youngest, daughter was introduced as Jessmyn. She was dressed in pink, and white sequins sparkled
on her dress like grains of sand caught in the midday sun.

Each of the girls dropped their eyes when curtsying, as was respectful, but as they rose they held Tahj’s gaze boldly. Bashea looked from them to the prince to gauge his reaction, but his face was unreadable. She felt the hair on the back of her neck begin to bristle and in turn became aggravated she was even aggravated at all. It was foolish. Of course the girls would admire Tahj, a young, handsome, eligible man. But did they have to be so obvious about it? They were practically throwing themselves at his feet.

“And you are…?” their host asked.

Tahj stepped forward. “I am Pr—”

“Pravin,” Radeem corrected. “Pravin is my old friend.” Radeem clapped Tahj on the back heartily, making him stumble forward.

Faraz’s shrewd eyes seemed to catch the lie, but he graciously accepted it as the truth. “Welcome, Pravin.”

“And this,” Radeem added with a flourish, “is Bashea, Pravin’s espoused.” Both Bashea and Tahj cast him a look of surprise, but Radeem ignored them.

The older gentleman took Bashea’s hand and kissed it while never taking his eyes from hers. “Bashea,” he said with an odd tenderness, “welcome to our home.” She curtsied.

From the moment they entered the house, the fabulous smell of some kind of savory repast had tempted them. Radeem, who seemed to almost drool as he spoke, addressed their host. “But it seems we have interrupted a meal. We should go and perhaps come back another time.”

“Nonsense. Nonsense,” Faraz answered. “There is plenty to share, isn’t there, girls?” The three bubbled in response. “You must stay and eat with us. We insist.”

Radeem bowed with his palms pressed together in front of his chest. “We would be forever grateful, my friend.”

“Perhaps you would care to wash up after your travels,” Faraz said tactfully, eying their soiled and bloodied clothing. “Pravin and your lovely Bashea, you shall have my room for the night.”

“The night…?” Tahj began.

“And you, my dear friend, will have the girls’ room.”

There immediately seemed to be some infighting among the female trio, and from the snatches of whispers caught here and there, it was clearly evident they were fighting over who would share Radeem’s bed for the evening. After a few seconds, the father made a sharp sound and the squabbling stopped, the middle girl smiling victoriously while the other two looked, at first disappointed, and then hopefully, in Tahj’s direction. “Jessmyn, show Pravin and Bashea to their room.”

“Our room?” Bashea questioned in a panic. Then, remembering they were supposed to be a couple, she added, “B-but we aren’t yet married—”

Faraz winked. “We will keep your secret.”

Bashea glanced at Tahj, who just shrugged, and she was forced to follow him across the room. As they walked past Radeem, the captain, seeming quite pleased with himself, slung his arms loosely around the pair’s shoulders, leaning in to talk to them privately. “Since I went to the trouble of creating a lie to keep your identities a secret, the least you could do is act the part. Take your betrothed’s arm, you idiot.” Unseen by their host, he thwacked Tahj on the head. Tahj stuck his arm out begrudgingly and Bashea put her arm through it, equally unhappy. Radeem, for his part, seemed to be enjoying the fact that he was making them both uncomfortable.

Jessmyn sauntered in front of Tahj and Bashea, swishing her hips temptingly and glancing over her shoulder with a giggle now and then. Bashea looked at Tahj, but he wasn’t watching the girl; he seemed to be stewing over something. “Here’s your room.” The obviously infatuated girl gave a wink, which was lost on Tahj.

When the door closed behind her, Tahj gave Bashea’s arm an absentminded pat and withdrew his hand. It was suddenly very quiet. The room was tiny, with a double bed that took up most of one side, a small window at the head of the bed, and a fireplace on the adjacent wall. Tahj stepped up to put his hand on the mantle, staring into the barren depths of the fireplace beneath without speaking.

After standing just inside the doorway for several minutes feeling awkward, Bashea crossed to the window.
Forgetting about her shoulder, she reached to move aside the curtain, sucking in her breath in pain. Tahj looked up, seeming immediately concerned.

“Let me look at that.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Don’t be foolish. I should check it. Come here.” He sat on the bed and gestured for her to sit down next to him. When she hesitated he snapped at her, “Come here. I’m not going to do anything to you, for Arishtat’s sake.”

Bashea marched over, giving Tahj a cool stare, and sat down with her back to him. Slowly she moved her hair out of the way, looping it over her other shoulder.

The movement struck Tahj as very sensual, and the smell of her hair about drove him over the edge. Unsteadily he reached out and untucked the edge of the bandage and began to pull it off little by little. When it fell away, Tahj saw the blood had only gone through two layers, and he took that as a good sign. He pressed around the area gently.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little.”

“I need to pull the fabric away to get a good look at it and make sure the edges are clean and sealed.”

She nodded, but said nothing. Tahj put a hand on her shoulder, and his heart started to beat quicker. Chastising himself for being foolish, he carefully slid the fabric down off her shoulder, but the move was incredibly erotic, and when he saw the smooth skin of her neck and the top of her shoulder he fought an urge to sink his teeth into it, or, at the very least, brush his lips across the creamy expanse. He closed his eyes.

“So, how is it?”

“Oh!” he said, surprised by the sound of her voice. “Fine, fine. It looks fine.”

His answer must not have been too convincing, as she jumped up to check herself in a large, rectangular mirror which had once been in a frame but now stood leaning against the wall. There was a long crack in it, and the glass was murky with age, but Bashea turned to look at her bare shoulder in its reflection speculatively. Since the wound was indeed clean, and looked like it was beginning to heal, she looked at Tahj quizzically.

The door opened a crack. “I’ve got…oh!” Seeing Bashea’s top halfway off her shoulder and Tahj sitting on the bed behind her, Radeem commented suggestively, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No.” Bashea bit off the word angrily, moving to the window and pulling her sleeve up.

Radeem winked at Tahj with a sly look, but, getting no smile in response, he continued. “I got you guys some clothes, if you want them,” he added with a cheesy grin. He handed Tahj a stack of clothes, and Bashea turned and then rushed over to pull hers off the top. It was a beautiful piece, and she ran her hand over the fabric
, her eyes wide.

Radeem turned to Tahj
. “Uhh…I need forty Abbas to pay for them.”

Tahj’s head spun
. “Forty Abbas!”

“I had to give my friend some compensation.”

“But forty Abbas? That would pay for a whole new wardrobe and food and board for a week.”

Radeem shrugged, still holding his hand out.

“Some friend,” Tahj grumbled, pulling out a drawstring pouch and handing him the silver coins. “I’ve been gone a little over twenty-four hours, and I’m almost out of money.”

Radeem accepted the money with a smile and turned to leave, counting the coins again into his palm, seeming unduly satisfied with their tinkling.

“Forty Abbas,” Tahj muttered when the door closed. He laid the new clothes out on the bed and started to remove his shirt.

“You’re not getting changed in here!” Bashea s
queaked.

Startled, he asked, “I’m not?”

“Not in front of me.”

“Oh, come on,
my sweet
.” Tahj smirked. “We’re engaged, remember?”

Seeming f
lustered, Bashea turned away when he proceeded to pull his shirt off. Tahj just laughed and shifted to dip his hands into a basin on a stand by the fireplace. He splashed the water on his face and chest, glancing over to where Bashea still stood by the window, her back turned, though peeking from time to time.

Bashea shut her eyes, trying not to think about the raw twist of muscle she had glimpsed as he had removed his shirt. “W-what about me?”

“You can get changed. I won’t look.”

“What?” She spun around, but finding his chest was still bare, dropped her eyes, nervously stammering, “I-I’m n-not g-going to change with you in here.”

“Fine. Then you can change after I leave.”

Despite his undressed state, Bashea looked up at him desperately. “But they believe we are to get married. If you go out there, and I stay in here to change, they’ll suspect something.”

“No, they won’t. Women always take forever getting ready,” he rejoined, slipping the fresh shirt over his head.

“Not me,” she responded indignantly.

“Well, what’s it going to be, Bashea?” he asked, sounding exasperated. “Do you want me to stay, or do you want me to go?”

“Ugh!” she cried in frustration, her face
hot with suppressed rage. She took one of her shoes off jerkily, nearly falling off balance. “
Get...out of here
!” She winged one of her shoes at him, and Tahj dodged it. He just had time to duck out the door before the other shoe hit it.

* * *

Everyone at the small kitchen table looked up at the loud bang of the door, followed by the sound of the second shoe battering it. Tahj lifted his shoulders apologetically. “Lovers’ spat.”