To Tempt a Sheikh Read Free

spraying sand in their wake and pushing the engine to its limit. With every violent jolt, the man’s arms tightened around his midriff, his legs grabbing him more securely, his cheek pressing deeper into his back until Harres felt they’d been fused together.
    His breath shortened by the moment as the heat of the man’s body seeped through every point of contact, pooled in his loins.
    Adrenaline. That was what it was. Discomfort. At having someone pressed so close, even in these circumstances.
    Yes. What else could it possibly be?
    In minutes, the crouching silhouette of his Mi-17 transport helicopter came into view. It was the best sight Harres had ever seen. He’d not only managed to reach their way out, but now he could get the man off of him.
    He screeched the sand car into a huge arc, almost toppling it before bringing it to a quaking stop by the pilot’s door.
    He wrenched Burke’s hands from his waist and leveraged himself out of the car in one motion. The man jumped out behind him, again with the stealth and economy of a cat, then waited for directions.
    He took in details now that his vision was at its darkness-adapted best. With his windswept golden hair and those iridescent eyes, Burke looked like some moon elf, ethereal, his beauty untouched by the ordeal—
    His beauty?
    â€œJump into the passenger seat and buckle yourself up.” He heard his bark, knew all his aggression was directed at his insane thoughts and reactions. “I’ll stuff the car in the cargo bay—”
    The crack of thunder registered first.
    Second, comprehension. A gun’s discharge.
    The shock in the man’s eyes followed.
    Last, the sting.
    He’d been hit.
    Somewhere on his left side, level with his heart. He had to assume not in it. He didn’t feel any weakening. Yet.
    Someone had slipped his men’s net, had managed to sneak up on them. This could be the last mistake he ever made.
    He exploded into action, charged the man to stop him from taking cover. They had no time for that.
    He shouldn’t have worried. Burke was no cowering fool. He was bolting to the helicopter even as more and more gunshots rang around them. He now knew the shot that had connected had been random. That was no sniper out there. That still didn’t mean whoever it was couldn’t hit a huge target like the chopper.
    In seconds they were in their seats and Harres had the monster of a machine roaring off the ground, levitating into the sky.
    He pressed the helicopter for all the altitude and velocity it was capable of. In less than a minute he knew they were too far for anyone pursuing them on foot or ATV to even spot anymore.
    Only then did he let himself investigate his body for thedamage it had sustained. It had no idea yet. All it reported back was a burning path traversing his left side back to front just below his armpit. Flesh wound, he preferred to assume. Maybe with some bone damage. Nothing major. If no artery had been hit.
    But the idea of losing blood too fast and spiraling into shock gave way to more pressing bad news. The chopper was losing fuel. The pursuer had hit the tank.
    He eyed the gauge. With the rate of loss, the fuel wouldn’t take them back to the capital. Nor anywhere near the inhabited areas where he could make contact with his people.
    He had to make a detour. Head for the nearest oasis. At fifty miles away it was still four hundred and fifty miles closer than any other inhabited area. The inhabitants hadn’t joined the modern world in any way, but once he and Burke were safely there, he would send envoys on horseback to his people. The trek would probably be delayed by a sandstorm that was expected to cut off the area from the world soon, a week or two during which his brothers and cousins—the only ones who knew of his mission—would probably think him dead. When weighed against his actual survival, and that of his charge, that was a tiny price to pay.
    His