prayer beads and the heavily decorated scabbard of his khanjar , the traditional Kareshi dagger that he wore at his side.
This was his joy, he realised as he watched the children’s dark, inquisitive eyes, and their busy little hands as they examined these treasures. They were the future of his country, and he would allow nothing to put a dent in the prospects of these children. He had banished his unscrupulous relatives with the express purpose of allowing Kareshi to grow and flourish, and he would support his people with whatever it took.
He was still the warrior Sheikh, Sharif reflected as the children were called away for supper. His people expected it of their leader, and it was a right that he had fought for, and that was in his blood. But he did have a softer side that he didn’t show the world, and that side of him longed for a family, and for closeness and love. He hadn’t known that as a child. He hadn’t even realised that he’d missed it until he spent more time here in the desert with his people. What he wouldn’t give to know the closeness they shared...
He stopped outside the tent they had prepared for Britt, and felt a rush of gratitude for the heritage his people had so carefully preserved. As he fingered the finely woven tassels holding back the curtains over the opening his thoughts strayed back to Britt. They had never really left her.
* * *
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t changed a tyre before—
Famously, she had changed one on the very first day she had met Sharif. But that had been on a familiar vehicle with tools she had used before, and on a hard surface, while this was sand.
As soon as she raised the Jeep on the jack, it slipped and thumped down hard, narrowly missing her feet. Hands on her hips, she considered her options. It was a beautiful night. The sky was clear, the moon was bright, and she had parked in the shadow of a dune where she was sheltered from the wind. It was lovely—if she could just calm down. And, maybe she shouldn’t have set out half cock with only the thought of seeing Emir/Sharif again in her head. But she was where she was, and had to get on with it.
She had never seen so many stars before, Britt realised, staring up. What a beautiful place this was. There was no pollution of any kind. A sea of stars and a crescent moon hung overhead. And there was no need for panic, she reasoned, turning back to the Jeep. She had water, fuel, and plenty of food. The GPS was up and running, and according to that she was only around fifteen miles away from the encampment. The best thing she could do was wait until the morning when she would try again to wedge the wheels and stop them slipping. As a sensible precaution, and because she didn’t want Jazz to worry, she texted Sharif’s sister: Flat tyre. No prob. I’ll sleep 4WD then change it am and head 2 camp.
A reply came through almost immediately: I hve yr coordinates. Do u hve flares? Help o—
The screen blanked. She tried again. She shook the phone. She screamed obscenities at it. She banged it on her hand and screamed again. She tried switching it off and rebooting it.
It was dead.
So what had Jazz meant by that last message? Help was on its way? Or help off-road in the middle of the desert at night was out of the question?
Heaving a breath, she stared up, and blinked to find the sky completely changed. Half was as beautiful as the last time she looked, which was just a few seconds ago, while the other half was sullen black. A prickle of unease crept down her spine. And then a spear of fright when she heard something...the rushing sound of a ferocious wind. It was like all her childhood nightmares come at once. Something monstrous was on its way—what, she couldn’t tell. The only certainty was that it was getting closer all the time.
Her hands were trembling, Britt realised as she buttoned the phone inside the breast pocket of her shirt. Not much fazed her, but now she wished she had a travelling companion who
This was his joy, he realised as he watched the children’s dark, inquisitive eyes, and their busy little hands as they examined these treasures. They were the future of his country, and he would allow nothing to put a dent in the prospects of these children. He had banished his unscrupulous relatives with the express purpose of allowing Kareshi to grow and flourish, and he would support his people with whatever it took.
He was still the warrior Sheikh, Sharif reflected as the children were called away for supper. His people expected it of their leader, and it was a right that he had fought for, and that was in his blood. But he did have a softer side that he didn’t show the world, and that side of him longed for a family, and for closeness and love. He hadn’t known that as a child. He hadn’t even realised that he’d missed it until he spent more time here in the desert with his people. What he wouldn’t give to know the closeness they shared...
He stopped outside the tent they had prepared for Britt, and felt a rush of gratitude for the heritage his people had so carefully preserved. As he fingered the finely woven tassels holding back the curtains over the opening his thoughts strayed back to Britt. They had never really left her.
* * *
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t changed a tyre before—
Famously, she had changed one on the very first day she had met Sharif. But that had been on a familiar vehicle with tools she had used before, and on a hard surface, while this was sand.
As soon as she raised the Jeep on the jack, it slipped and thumped down hard, narrowly missing her feet. Hands on her hips, she considered her options. It was a beautiful night. The sky was clear, the moon was bright, and she had parked in the shadow of a dune where she was sheltered from the wind. It was lovely—if she could just calm down. And, maybe she shouldn’t have set out half cock with only the thought of seeing Emir/Sharif again in her head. But she was where she was, and had to get on with it.
She had never seen so many stars before, Britt realised, staring up. What a beautiful place this was. There was no pollution of any kind. A sea of stars and a crescent moon hung overhead. And there was no need for panic, she reasoned, turning back to the Jeep. She had water, fuel, and plenty of food. The GPS was up and running, and according to that she was only around fifteen miles away from the encampment. The best thing she could do was wait until the morning when she would try again to wedge the wheels and stop them slipping. As a sensible precaution, and because she didn’t want Jazz to worry, she texted Sharif’s sister: Flat tyre. No prob. I’ll sleep 4WD then change it am and head 2 camp.
A reply came through almost immediately: I hve yr coordinates. Do u hve flares? Help o—
The screen blanked. She tried again. She shook the phone. She screamed obscenities at it. She banged it on her hand and screamed again. She tried switching it off and rebooting it.
It was dead.
So what had Jazz meant by that last message? Help was on its way? Or help off-road in the middle of the desert at night was out of the question?
Heaving a breath, she stared up, and blinked to find the sky completely changed. Half was as beautiful as the last time she looked, which was just a few seconds ago, while the other half was sullen black. A prickle of unease crept down her spine. And then a spear of fright when she heard something...the rushing sound of a ferocious wind. It was like all her childhood nightmares come at once. Something monstrous was on its way—what, she couldn’t tell. The only certainty was that it was getting closer all the time.
Her hands were trembling, Britt realised as she buttoned the phone inside the breast pocket of her shirt. Not much fazed her, but now she wished she had a travelling companion who
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