Desert Kings Boxed Set: The Complete Series Books 1-6 Read online

  6

  Bright spears of light pounding against Zadir’s eyelids announced that morning had come once again to the Rub’ Al Khali. He reached out for the lovely woman who’d slept in his arms, but she was gone.

  He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Ronnie?”

  “I’m in the cockpit.” Her voice stirred excitement in him. Last night had been incredible. Maybe the dangerous situation they were stuck in had unleashed some primordial energy, but he’d made love to her as if their lives depended up on it and the climax had left him too exhausted and drained to even worry about their dilemma.

  He sat up and pulled clean underwear and pants from his luggage. Today, he was going to get them both out of there. He took a judicious gulp of water from his water bottle and headed for the cockpit.

  She sat in the pilot’s chair, looking ridiculously poised and elegant in a crisp, white, fitted dress that set off her gorgeous dark complexion. She turned to him, eyes glowing with excitement. “I found a distress-call button. Or a pull, more accurately. Look.” She pointed to a small orange handle far up on the right among the rows and knobs and dials. “I tugged on it right away. I’ve been doing it every few minutes since.”

  “Damn, how did I miss that?”

  “We were focused on the radio. I think it will send a signal up to a satellite and let them know we’re in trouble. It may even give them our coordinates. You made me think of it last night when you mentioned that there might be another way to send a distress signal.”

  “You’re as brilliant as you are gorgeous.” He kissed her cheek and watched a smile spread across her sensual mouth. “Hopefully, now all we have to do is sit here until help shows up. Unless…” An ugly thought had crossed his mind in the dead of night.

  “Unless what?” She turned to him, her face so happy and excited that he didn’t want to share his fears.

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “Unless it also summons the person who’s trying to get rid of me.”

  He watched her smile fade, and she bit her lip with small white teeth. “I didn’t think of that. I suppose they thought we’d die in the crash. Now that I sent the signal more than twelve hours later, they’ll know that at least one of us survived.”

  He nodded. “And they may well be the first to get here.”

  “What can we do?”

  “We need to hope that someone legitimate also hears the signal and gets here first. Let’s try again to raise someone on the radio.”

  He donned the headphones and turned the radio dial past the endless recitation of prayers that had brought them no help. A loud burst of static made him start, and a voice in Arabic barked a question: “Is there anyone there?”

  It was loud enough to be heard in the cabin, because Ronnie gripped his arm. “What is he saying?”

  Foreboding unfurled in his belly. “He’s asking if there’s anyone here. You do the talking. Pretend I died in the crash, then if it’s the would-be killers they might leave us alone.”

  She donned the headset, pressed the mic button and started to speak into the mic. “I don’t speak Arabic. I’ve been in a plane crash. I’m all alone in the desert. Please send help immediately.”

  He watched as a roar of static tightened her muscles. Then he could hear enough to make out a different voice in heavily accented English. “You are alone?”

  “Yes, I need help.”

  The line went dead.

  “Can you hear me? I need help?” She looked at Zadir. Then turned off the microphone. “What if they’re legit? Do I need to tell them where we are?”

  “They can probably tell our coordinates from the distress signal the plane sent out.”

  “Hello? Are you there?” There was no response. She turned to him, frowning. “This isn’t good. Why would they disappear like that?”

  “Because they got the information they needed.”

  “That I’m alone, so they can leave me to die out here?” She held the mic close to her mouth. “Hello, are you sending help?” She shrugged, and even though she’d turned the mic off, she whispered, “I want it to sound legitimate, like I’m waiting for them.”

  No answer.

  “It probably is the bad guys, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “But the signal would have gone out to anyone who was listening, so hopefully the Saudi authorities got it, too. I’m assuming we’re in Saudi Arabia, because most of the Empty Quarter is within Saudi borders. They may be trying to contact us on another frequency. I’m sure there’s an official frequency for this kind of thing, but I don’t know what it is so we’ll have to hope we stumble across it.”

  “Let’s keep scrolling. If they could hear you, someone else will be able to hear us, too.”

  Veronica’s tight body was a real temptation but he managed to keep his hands off it while he scrolled up and down the range of frequencies. She was all business today, no flirtation or mention of last night’s wonderful lovemaking. He resolved to stay focus on the task at hand.

  They’d turned the volume up so loud, using the headset as a crude speakerphone, that even a burst of static fired his adrenaline. Every time they heard the familiar drone of a voice, or even some promising silence, they repeated Mayday and waited with their hearts pounding.

  But no one answered.

  “It’s getting hot in here.” Heat pressed against the slanted cockpit windows and poured in through the missing one.

  “Soon it’ll be hotter in here than outside. We’d better go see if we can reconstruct our circle in case anyone is looking for us. The plane is probably covered in sand.”

  He followed Ronnie out of the cockpit, trying not to let the lilt of her slim hips hypnotize him as she swayed across the tilted plane. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about her gorgeous body at a time when they needed to work fast to save their own lives, but it was hard not to.

  It took some effort to get the plane door open, as sand had piled against it during the night. Naturally all their hard work of yesterday had been obliterated. “You go rest and drink some water. I’ll drag a circle in the sand.” He wanted to be a hero, to save both of then and whisk her off into an air-conditioned sunset. Every hour they spent out here brought them closer to the end of their water. Even if they paced themselves, their supply would last a day or two more, at most.

  She jumped down to the sand. “There’s no way I could sit idle right now. Two of us will get it done faster.”

  A sense of urgency fired adrenaline through Zadir’s muscles. He was sure that he was the reason they’d been stranded there and left for dead, and he had no intention of letting his enemy win.

  7

  “What was that?” Tiny hairs stood up on the back of Ronnie’s neck. The air seemed to grow hotter and more oppressive as they stood outside the plane, wondering how to make it more visible now it was coated with a thick layer of dust. They’d cleaned off the call numbers and the windows. Now the atmosphere around them suddenly seemed to throb.

  “A helicopter.” Zadir spun around. “I can hear it but not see it.”

  “Oh, my gosh,” her nerves jangled. “We have to make them spot us!”

  “I wish we had a flare, but whoever sent us here removed them. We’ll have to wave something. Grab an item of clothing.”

  She pulled up a pair of pale ivory pants they’d laid as part of their circle, and he grabbed a white shirt. They started to jump up and down, waving the items over their heads.

  Still no sign of a helicopter. Gasping already in the intense heat, she paused for breath. “Has it gone past us?”

  “I can still hear it.” He frowned. “I think it’s circling around us. It must be hidden by the high dunes.”

  “Do you think it could be the person who disabled the plane?”

  She watched him inhale deeply. “Could be. But they may also be our only way out.”

  “Not if they shoot us on sight. You need to hide inside the plane.”

  “I’m not hiding. I’d rather die in the open.”
>
  Her instincts recoiled against that fate for him, or for her. “Not me. I’d rather live to bring them to justice.”

  He scanned the horizon to the south. “I see them. It’s a dark helicopter. I don’t see any markings.”

  “What do rescue helicopters look like?”

  “The Saudi ones are mostly white, with red stripes.”

  She peered at the shape growing larger in the distance, rotors thumping. “That’s not white.” Fear clutched at her chest. “Get inside, Zadir. I mean it. If it’s the bad guys, they can take me back to civilization and I’ll send help for you.” She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him get shot, or worse.

  He glowered for a moment. “I don’t want to put you in unnecessary danger. I’ll lay low at least until we can figure out what’s going on.”

  “Get in the shade under the wing.” She watched as he crouched in the dark recess. If necessary, she’d use her wits to get them both out of there.

  Instead of growing closer, the helicopter continued to circle around the crash site. Frustration gathered inside her. “What the heck? Why aren’t they coming in to land?”

  “They’re trying to figure out what’s going on here. I think you were right to have me hide. They want to be sure you’re alone.”

  “Then they’ll leave. They’ll know I won’t survive out here.” The prospect chilled her, even in the burning heat of the morning sun.

  The throbbing of the rotors echoed the pounding of her heart. Someone out there wanted Zadir dead and didn’t care if she lived or died. Anger flashed through her and she wanted to yell at the dark copter, but she managed to keep her head, and her tongue.

  “There’s another helicopter.” Zadir’s low voice rumbled out from beneath the wing. “I can’t see it from down here but I can hear it. Scan the horizon.”

  She spun and instantly saw a pale helicopter approaching from the North, the opposite direction of the other. “It’s white. With a red tail.”

  “Those are the good guys.”

  Without a second’s hesitation she jumped on the wing, glad of her shoes on the burning metal, and started to jump up and down, waving the ivory pants. “Help! Help me!!” Unlike the dark helicopter, the white one changed course and headed straight for them. “Help! We need help!”

  She scanned the horizon for the dark copter and saw it disappearing off to the south again. “The first one is leaving.”

  “They don’t want to be seen near the scene of the crime,” Zadir said grimly.

  “Come on out. They’re heading right for us.”

  Zadir jumped up on the wing next to her as the helicopter approached, circled the site and landed about fifty feet from the plane, kicking up a sandstorm to rival last night’s and making them clutch their impromptu flags to their faces to keep the dust out of their eyes and nose.

  Men in overalls came running across the sand, calling out in Arabic. Zadir responded, and the men helped them down from the wing. She was tempted to go jump directly onto their waiting helicopter, but Zadir reminded her she might want her computer and phone, if not her clothes, so once their vital signs were checked and they’d drunk some water, they retrieved their possessions from the plane and boarded the helicopter.

  The propeller was so loud that it drowned out all noise in the Spartan interior. She could probably have told Zadir she loved him and wanted to bear his children, and he wouldn’t have heard her. Since they were both in good shape, the medics agreed to take them to a base in Dammam, near Bahrain, so they could drive to their destination.

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever get on a plane again,” she admitted, as they climbed down onto blissfully hard tarmac.

  “Then you’ll have to live your life in this part of the world.” Zadir grinned. “Designing my palace and city.”

  “That might be an excellent idea.”

  They freshened up at the hospital, then kissed all the way to Bahrain in the back of the taxi.

  “We’ll be there in time to dress for the wedding. It’s at sunset,” she murmured, when they came up for air.

  “And we’ll have to tell and retell the story of how we survived a plane crash in the desert.”

  “Or we could keep it as our little secret.” She didn’t really want anyone to know she’d been rash enough to get naked with Zadir while their lives hung in the balance. And the whole ordeal was so emotionally and physically exhausting that talking about it seemed an overwhelming prospect.

  “That’s probably a good idea, since there’s someone out there who wants me dead. I suppose it’s bound to get out into the media that a small plane crashed.”

  “No one needs to know that we were on it, though, do they?”

  “I suppose not. I’ll have to tell my brothers so we can start searching for the culprit. But we’ll tell them the full story together when you come with me to Ubar and meet them.” His deep blue gaze and warm smile made her heart swell with joy.

  “The full story?”

  “Maybe we’ll keep some of it just between ourselves.” Zadir lowered his lips to hers and kissed her, softly at first, then harder, until she didn’t know right from wrong, up from down or the desert from the deep blue sea.

  THE END

  DESERT KINGS

  Osman

  Rescued by the Sheikh

  By Jennifer Lewis

  In Osman – Rescued by the Sheikh, Royal heir Osman Al Kilanjar must choose a bride to claim his throne, but he’s tired of the gold diggers who flock around him and knows he’ll recognize his true mate when he meets her. Practical film producer Samantha Bechtel has her whole life mapped out like the shooting script of one of her documentaries—but it takes a detour when she breaks down in the desert and is rescued by the commanding and charismatic sheikh. Osman decides to put the local marriage festival she’s filming to good use and claim his bride. Sam is shocked by Osman’s bold seduction—and even more surprised when she finds herself falling under his spell.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “We’re going to die out here.” Allan punched more numbers into his dying phone, his sandy hair blowing in the desert wind.

  Samantha took one more peek under the propped hood at the nonfunctioning engine of their Land Rover. “We’ll be fine. We’ll just hunker down until morning. Then someone will come along the road and we’ll get help.” She shivered. A menacing chill had descended over the desert as the sun sank below the distant horizon. “We should build a fire to keep warm.”

  “And to keep animals away. There are probably jackals and hyena out here.” Allan glanced nervously around. “But there’s no wood.”

  Scraggly trees poked here and there out of the arid scrub, she saw no loose branches. Probably the local villagers gathered them as soon as they fell. “We could run the engine for the same effect. But it won’t be long before we run out of gas. This thing’s a guzzler.” Sam tapped the Land Rover’s dusty white exterior. Something in the distance caught her attention. Specks of light, moving toward them.

  “There’s a car coming.”

  “What?” Allan jumped. She could barely see him in the thick dusk. Sam became increasingly aware of the natural smells around them and the tiny movements of invisible creatures.

  “I’ll turn the lights on so they can see us.”

  “No! Don’t.” Allan hurried toward her. “What if they’re bandits? These empty stretches of desert are full of outlaws.”

  His chicken heartedness annoyed her. “Maybe they’ll give us a ride back to civilization.”

  “Or take us prisoner and send ransom demands to our families. I knew we should never have taken on this project. Who cares about a wedding festival in the middle of nowhere, for crying out loud?”

  “It’s never been filmed.” She shivered again. “We’re capturing a moment in history.” The lights grew steadily closer, possibly illuminating the way for nomadic warlords armed with semiautomatic weapons. Goosebumps pricked her arms.

  “There may be a good reason film crews nev
er come here.” Allan’s teeth chattered.

  She stroked his back. “Just relax. Let me do the talking.” She’d had romantic visions of them joining in the celebrations at Nabattur, celebrating their love under the stars. Instead, their love was being tested by setbacks that threatened to derail the whole project. Their flight to the airport in Medina had been delayed, so they’d missed their connecting flight and had to take a tiny puddle jumper on a journey almost longer than its gas tank could handle. They’d now driven for six hours, and dreams of hot showers and cool hotel sheets were evaporating in the dry desert air.

  The quiet purr of the approaching engine suggested a large sedan rather than a paramilitary vehicle, but all she could see was the blaze of white headlights. Heart pounding, she turned on their hazard lights and started to wave her arms. All they needed was a ride into Nabattur. Or maybe just someone with a flashlight and a little mechanical expertise. Despite a flicker of apprehension, she gritted her teeth and crossed her fingers as the approaching car slowed to a stop on the loose surface of the dirt road.

  The blinding headlights hid their potential savior—or kidnapper—from view as the car door opened. She squinted as a large, unmistakably male silhouette materialized dressed in the long robe favored by the locals. A gruff voice addressed them in Arabic, with an expression she didn’t recognize.

  She attempted, in halting Arabic, to explain that they’d broken down. She could hear Allan’s labored breathing behind her. The man swept around their Land Rover and looked—in the dark—at the silent engine.

  “You’d better come with me.”

  It took her a moment to register that he’d spoken in English. His low voice sounded kinder in the less guttural tongue. She wished she could see his face.