The Sheikh's Destiny (Harlequin Romance) by Melissa James Page A

the foliage for where it was thickest.
    She gasped when she almost tripped over him some minutes later. He was on the ground, digging hard and fast with his fingers beside a thick tree surrounded by bushy scrub. He shook his head when she was about to speak, and tipped his head in a western direction.
    There were lights, and movement.
    She fell to her knees and dug beside him in silence. The ground was damp, growing wetter by the moment.
    â€˜We don’t have time for the dirt to settle. It’ll be muddy, but drinkable,’ he murmured against her ear as he filled a canteen with a cupped hand.
    She shivered with the feel of his breath inside her skin. How could the tentative touches they’d shared feel so incredibly intimate? How did she want him so much all the time?
    â€˜Any water’s good water,’ she murmured. All urge to celebrate their find had been smothered by the danger so close. And she kept digging.
    â€˜Move,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘They’re coming. The bole of the tree over the other side’s been emptied by honey-gatherers, and the bees are long gone.’
    â€˜The hole in the ground,’ she whispered frantically. ‘They’ll know—’
    â€˜Go.’
    Obeying the imperative command, she slipped into the tree. She watched as he covered the hole with all the branches and leaves scattered about, used a branch with leaves to clean off what footprints he could. She ached to help, but knew she’d only ruin his handiwork.
    The lights and voices came closer. Go, Alim, run!
    As if he heard her heart’s cry he lifted his head, listeningfor a moment; then he stood on the branch and, with a mighty leap, he landed three feet up the nearest tree.
    â€˜What was that?’ a voice cried in Swahili from not far away. ‘I heard something.’
    Alim shinned his way up the trunk of the tree, fast and quiet, his knees gripping the bole as his hands reached for a thick branch, the backpack slung across his shoulders. He moved so fast he was almost a blur in the night. As he jumped for the branch, he hung in the air for a moment; then he swung his legs up like a gymnast, and landed face down. He lay along the branch, making himself as flat as possible. He reached for the backpack and did something with it, what she couldn’t see; but now the men wouldn’t find him unless they shone a light on that particular branch of that one tree.
    But they probably knew about the hole she crouched in. She held her breath, pushed her back hard against the hollowed-out wood, and waited.
    The light seemed shockingly bright as half a dozen torches filled the small copse at once. ‘It came from somewhere around here.’
    Then a laugh came, followed by others, and she almost gasped in relief. She let the air out, taking in fresh and held it again before one of the men spoke. ‘A branch fell, that’s all.’
    The others made fun of the man who’d called the noise, and after a quick sweep of the area they all moved off.
    Soon, Hana heard the sound of a Jeep revving up and driving away—but as they’d done the day before, she stayed still, her thighs and calves cramping and shooting pains darting from her hips to shoulders. For long minutes she heard only the sound of a locust as it whirred from place to place in search of food.
    â€˜Hana, I’ve got the water. We need to leave.’
    The whisper was startling in the silence. Hana jumped, and groaned with the pain it induced. Everything felt frozen.
    â€˜Hana,’ he said again, and even in the hushed voice, she could hear his impatience.
    â€˜I can’t move,’ she whispered back in misery she couldn’t hide. She was so tired .
    She heard him mutter something, and then his head and shoulders appeared before her. ‘You’re cramped?’
    She nodded, feeling ridiculous, a burden at the time she had to be strongest. ‘I’m