It took all of his inner strength not to throw her clothes back at the ingrate shrew. So much for being meek and docile. One very opinionated lady indeed, glad he decided to refrain from exposing his true skill in the language.

Tomorrow they would be moving out towards his desert retreat. He needed to find out more about this strange creature he had rescued, beginning to wonder if he needed rescuing himself. As for doing a runner, he wouldn't put anything passed that one. Perhaps it was time to find out what she was capable of. And who the hell she was?

A tourist, his foot.

Something was going on behind the scenes. His instincts told him that, which had kept him safe more than once. He removed all guards around her tent and went about their day as he waited for reports on the capture of those men, before moving on. A decision had to be made and chose to take them out of the equation, mainly for her sake.

Tasting of food and refreshment, before she took part in the meal, had been a smart move on her behalf. She must have been starving by the way she had devoured it after she made sure it wasn't drugged. Then there was the constant chatter. Annoying, especially with the sarcastic tones. Probably some socialite with her pale creamy skin, large blue eyes and deep, rich burgundy hair yet didn't act like one. The photo hadn't done justice to her real colouring, just dark. She was a fighter, so how did she get caught up in this mess? He planned to find out.

The night began to fall and all was quiet from the tent.

A couple of times he had checked up on her, via other men, taking her in food and refreshments. She had been resting on the pillows, napping. Perhaps it had taken a lot more out of her than she had let on. Khalid could understand her reluctance to trust him, yet when they were together the air charged with undercurrent tones, and there was such wonder in her eyes that she couldn't hide, no matter how hard she tried.

He had sent his men to rest, so he was the only one at the campfire that was alight, seated upon a rug, staring across the oasis, looking all calm and peaceful, giving a false sense of lack of security. He heard soft footfall upon the sand behind him.

Light, not heavy enough for one of his men. Without looking up at her, he waved a hand beside him, and she sank down. A sweet scent of rosewater drifted across that was added to the bathwater, only enhancing his awareness of her. He glanced sideways, his breath caught in his chest at the sight of her, under the firelight of dancing flames. Hair enhanced in red, adding a glow to her pristine skin, head tilted back as she breathed in the night air, eyes closed, savouring.

He had to fight the urge to reach out and touch her; she had been brought here for her protection, not to be mauled by men. Yet she was like a siren calling to him. A fire in the blood that wouldn't be distinguished, he only wanted it fuelled by the touch of her soft plump lips. Leaning back on her hands, she tilted her head back more, exposing her throat, forcing the dress tighter across her ample breasts.

So that was her game. Seduction then what? He knew she wouldn't hurt him with the fork reaction. As if a fork would hurt him, only his heart if she had. Suddenly she sat up, looking at him.

"I don't suppose you have a scrunchie?" He stared at her baffled. "Sorry, hair band," she gathered up her hair into a ponytail and pointed at it. As if he would let her put up that gorgeous curls of heaven. A woman's glory was her hair, especially this one. Browns down, he shook his head.

Sighing, she released her hair. "I thought not. A girl can dream." She stood up and headed towards the water. Even though he hadn't moved, he was alert, as she moved towards the tethered horses and patted, talking to a black stallion. Her soft whimsical voice floated in the night air. None of them was saddled. As if he would be that stupid to leave a way for her to escape him.

Before she could even attempt to untether the reins he would be there. Ride bareback, he didn't think so. That did take real skill. Yet she seemed at ease around the horses. Even if she untethered the horse or tried, it will only tighten. A trick knot, the opposite of what it seemed. Pull the right rein and it fell away for a quick escape. Instinct had him sitting up straighter as she cooed, her hand closer to the leather rein. A great choice of horse, but also the wrong one. She knew her horses.

Fingers curled around the strap of the rein. This should be interesting as she patted the mane of his black stallion Midnight. Suddenly, with a swift movement, she was on top of the horse, rein released and riding off. Standing, he brushed the sand from his hands and whistled sharply as he headed towards the horses. Midnight reared, kicking legs high. Claire went flying off with a squeal.

There was an instant reaction, surrounded by armed men.

Khalid dismissed them with a wave of a hand.

Claire rolled out of the way as the hooves came down, having no idea that Midnight would never hurt a person. On her back, she glared up with hard darker blue eyes at him as if it was his fault, giving him the finger salute while hovering over her.

He offered his hand. "You are lucky not to be thrown in prison for that alone," he muttered in Arabic, not wanting to give anything away until he knew more. Ignoring his hand, she just glowered at him. If that was the way she wanted it, so be it, walking away to see to his horse, speaking softly to him in Arabic. "Did that nasty lady, try to steal you from me," he stroked his powerful silky neck.

Nasty lady indeed. Another black mark against him. He will go down in flames if she had anything to do with it. There will be payback. Fuming Claire glared daggers at his back. How dare he have his horse trained! It was as if he has done all this on purpose. One thing was for sure, he wasn't even interested in her. She was the only woman on the campsite as far as she knew and she left him cold. Good for her.

The question was why had he bought her?

If it was to serve him in other ways, she hadn't been put to work. Just being looked after. None of it made sense, looking up at the dark sky full of twinkling stars, and released a long breath. She was out here in the open. Not tied up, wondering what he would do if she just walked out of there. He didn't seem to want to hurt her, or abuse her, so what was going on?

Time to test the waters, rising to her feet, dusting sand off her body and hands, while one gave loving attention to his horse. His large hands so gently, voice caressing that rolled over her as he was whispering those words to her, shaking them off. The desert was doing her head in and she needed to pick up the trail again. Crossing her arms, she headed towards the water, beyond the horses.

A short sharp whistle filled the night air. Stunned, she faltered and swung around mouth agape. "You just didn't whistle at me!" She yelled, trembling with rage, arms falling at her side, hands clenching into fists. "I'm not some sort of animal to be commanded by you! That's it," throwing her arms up into the air, she stormed off. She was out of here. How dare he do that to her! He had to be friggin' kidding her! The man was off his rocker! "First drugged, and then stolen from my room. Bought by some Arab, tossed over his shoulder, then over his damn horse like some sort of a saddlebag. Now expected to answer to a damn whistle like his horse. Like hell, I will," grumbling she kept walking, cursing and muttering under her breath, stomping around the waterhole.

Stopping, she caught her breath, as she looked around and found herself alone. So focussed on beyond into the desert that went passed the horizon with yearning, yet knew it was stupid and useless to head anywhere on foot, unprepared, looking down at her bare feet, wiggling her toes. There was that. She needed her head read.

This wasn't supposed to be happening and time was a-wasting. What if the one who had taken her, had taken Fleur?  Being here, she was wasting time, yet had no understanding of what the situation was. No one seemed to speak English, which only frustrated the situation she was in, not wanting to expose her secret. It was her only advantage at this time.

Giving up, she headed back towards the tent, where she had eaten and been resting, making herself comfortable into the cushions, needing to get some real sleep. Not that he said much, she had a feeling he understood more than he let on. Also, she had the freedom to move around, yet wasn't able to leave in the true sense.

With the provided blankets she curled up, wrapped in them, clenched hand against her lips, haunted by the fact she hadn't found any trace of Fleur. At least, for now, she was safe and wasn't living on her nerves as she had been, yet it still didn't rest well on her.

Restless from a bad night, Claire peered out of the tent, discovering she was guard free. Why would he need to? She had nowhere to go, placing on flat slippers that suddenly had appeared out of nowhere, outside the tent. Pity, she didn't have them last night, so why now?

She was that less of a threat. Maybe it was time to whoop some butt, shaking her head as she headed out. That would show him what a real threat she was. Knowing she couldn't show her hand at this time.

The sky still darkish, though, was lightening up, the air brisk. Much cooler at night before the heat of the day. Rubbing her arms, she wandered out further, while the men went about their business of the day, taking no notice of her. Why should they? Blinking back tears. She felt such a failure. Thinking that she could just enter a foreign country and follow the trail of human trafficking was beyond arrogant. Maybe it was time to call in the cavalry, yet did that help her find Fleur?

That was what had been troubling her most of the night. Was she still in the same country? Was she still safe? Had she even been taken? Yet how else would she disappear without a trace? Disturbed, she walked towards the oasis' water, climbed the surrounding's rockery, and perched, hiding amongst the palm trees, while she looked around, finding a strange peace.

Suddenly there was a splash of water, jerking her around and nearly fell off the perch at the sight of the man standing on the low-level side of the water, completely naked going by his nakedness to his hips and beyond, his Adonis belt exposed, v-ing down into the waters, unable to drag her eyes away, her mind going to mush. A fine specimen of a man, with his ripped toned body.

Claire slipped further out of sight. It wasn't like she could let him know she was here, while he was having a bath. Why not in the bath? No, it was all about going natural, letting it all hang out for the world to see, well, most of him with his sickening defined torso, most underwear models would kill for, especially when he raised his hands above his head and stretched.

Muscles flexed his shoulders and back, as the morning sun slowly spread across his darkened glistering skin. Slowly he lowered into the water and come up, tilting his head back, pushing his hair back from his broad forehead. His slanted defined cheekbones stood out more, water dripping down his face, neck, shoulders and sun-kissed bronzed torso, over every contour of his muscles. One very fit man.

A sight she didn't see often, actually never, feeling a little bit guilty. She hadn't meant to be perving on him. All by accident, but would it be seen that way? Turning towards the side, she scrambled away further, her foot slipping.

Crying out, she slid down the side of the rock face and plunged into the water, landing undignified at his feet as he turned, water up to her neck, while he stood over her, arms cross his broad bare chest. He didn't even try to cover himself up by lowering down into the water. The water lowers dangerously in a responsive wave, at eye-popping levels.

Eyes bolted up, she placed on a smile. "Good morning, lovely day for a swim." Not sure he would understand. He stood before her, unimpressed, arms still crossed, water lapping around his hips, very low, burning into her mind. Dangerously low. She kept focused on his face. "Just went for a walk," she walked fingers across an open palm, "no spying." She made glasses with her fingers around her eyes, shaking her head. Maybe just a little.

Having him completely naked, standing in water, made him seem less threatening. Nonetheless, dangerous, for her and her thundering heart. She pointed around her and followed by two thumbs up. "All good." A dark brow arched. "Okay, not. So you like to go all-natural like in nature." She tried to push up with her hands only to slip on the surface underneath her. She suddenly looked down into the water, eyes darting around nervously. "Is there fish? I hate fish, the slimy things. No, of course not," she reassured herself. "Natural spring. No fish in the desert, a long way from any waterways."

Without a word, Khalid bent down, placed his hands under her arms and lifted her onto her feet in front of him, face to face even if she had tilted her head back, air sucked into her lungs sharply, held by his gaze. He turned her around and sent her on the way with a firm tap on her wet-covered bottom.

She gasped ready to give him a piece of her mind, turning around only to stop dead. Wet naked man, her brain froze, then gathered up the heavy wet garment and forced her way through the water towards the edge, where the water met the sand. "Male chauvinist pig!" She squealed. "He did that!" He was pushing his luck.

The man was impossible, she fumed wading closer then suddenly dropped into the water, screaming, arms flailing, taken by surprise. Strong hands clamped around her wrists and pulled her out of the fallen-away sand bottom and found herself hard up against his rock-solid body. Finding more solid footing, holding him desperately, gasping for breath, clinging to his broad, wet shoulders. He had such big, broad shoulders, her fingers digging in as she sank against him, coughing and spluttering. He patted her back.

"I didn't mean this to happen," she trembled. "I only went for a walk, not spy on you. What do the gods have against me? I just wanted to find Fleur," she bawled. "Not to be drugged and sold into slavery. I didn't want this!" She completely lost it, then because aware of being plastered hard against his wet hard body. Every damn inch that she pushed away from. "No! No! NO!" She stepped back dazed. This was all wrong.

This time he grabbed her arm. Panic soared through her hard, pulses racing, not just by his touch. Only to realise he was leading her away from where she had gone down before, towards the edge, yet the impression of his manhood made a huge impact on her. In the water. This was totally, utterly beyond words.

Reaching the edge, she was released, where she dragged herself and the heavy dress out of the water and raced as best as she could towards the tents. Only to stop dead, because she didn't have anything else to wear. Hair plastered her face, shoulders and back that would fizz under this heat and felt like a drenched rat, hands clenching at her side in frustration, wanting to scream. However, a lady never screamed, one must at all times remain calm.

This non-speaking was driving her insane. She hadn't realised she had to go up against that. There should've been some sort of sign-up. Don't enter, naked man bathing. Head down, she looked from side to side. No interest at all. She was no threat at all? Okay, that's a good thing, veering off towards the other tents, darting into one after making sure it was free.

Only beds, quickly scanned the area, seeing nothing matching her bag. She slipped out after making sure the area was cleared and sidled across towards the next one, holding out her dress as if she was drying it, just in case she was spotted as she edged closer towards another tent. She had to find his tent; after all, he had her bag on his horse, so logically she had to find his tent.

Finding another empty tent, heart pounding, she slipped in and scouted around, throbbing pulse ringing in her ears, eyes kept darting towards the opening. She dropped down at the sound of voices lingering outside before moving on, much to her relief. Crouched down, she scanned the area, noticing her bag across the tent, where she crawled towards it, grabbed and stood, placing it down on the provided bed, unzipped and rummaged through for new underwear and something to wear.

Only to jerk back as a hand clamped onto the bag, heart lodged in her throat, heart skipping a beat. Startled, she looked up at the man at her side, wiping a towel down his face. Her eyes widened, and she gulped. He removed her bag and walked around her, she followed with her eyes on the bare tight contour of his bottom.

What? Dropping down onto the bed, uncaring she was wetting it, arms crossed. It was just too much nakedness going on around here. Didn't he have any modesty at all? What would he do if she walked around as he did? Shaking her head. As if she would. Need to focus on why she was here, not the man himself.

"That belongs to me. Mine, do you get it? Mine!" She fought to keep the tears at bay, to be ignored as he went through his belongings. Removed a robe and pulled it over his head that lowed down, covering him, the towel fell away, where he had draped it in front of him, not around him like most people. Thank goodness, shooting to her feet, heading for the exit.

"I would not take one more step if I was you, Claire Donovan." Startled, she swung. He closed the distance and stood before her like a mighty warrior. "Get changed into these then we will talk in your tent." Standing there stunned, he turned her around and urged her out gently. Removing dry towels as well, he shoved them into her arms. "I would stick to one's bath next time, Claire."

Bamboozled she stumbled back into her tent, where she stood in the middle of the tent. He spoke English, very good English. Frantically, she got out her wet clothes. Dried and changed into creamy harem pants, with brightly colour tunic tops with fresh underwear, her mind racing, heat burning her cheeks, trying to remember everything she had said, going blank. Suddenly she didn't want him to speak English. Very bad.

She had to remain calm, pacing the tent, shaking her hands. This has put a spanner in the works. Claire suddenly stopped, unless it was in her favour and gets her the hell out of there. Depending on what this was all about? Why was she left alone in her tent? As grateful as she was about that unless she was being taken somewhere else, never to be seen again. She needed her bag. It was her lifeline. He had no idea.

Feeling a presence behind her, she turned slowly around. Once more he stood before her, yet he didn't look at her like the others had, with cold greedy eyes with evil intent in their hearts. This one was different, with smoky dark chocolate velvet eyes heavily fringed with thick black lashes. His hand opened and exposed her transmitter. "Explain this," he asked in perfect English with a slight accent.

Claire blinked at him. "You spoke English all this time and you ignored me?" She asked, astonished, crossing her arms.

"I asked you a question."

She glared at the tiny electronic piece. "I thought it was obvious." She reached across and pressed the sides together. His eyes widened in disbelief as they started flashing brightly. "Now you're in trouble. The whole damn air force is about to take you out." Swearing, he pushed at it again. Colour flooded her cheeks. It didn't stop flashing. She waved at it. "Oh, didn't I tell you, once it's pushed it doesn't stop until the one who holds its twin arrives, and then it stops transmitting." She hadn't meant to start it, but this was a different situation. Plus, he had found it. It was the only way she could have armed it.

It fell from his hand to the tent floor, foot lifted. "Go ahead, smash it, but we have already been marked. Also, there are more. So when they arrive if I was you, just hand me over, without being tortured." She waved a hand over him.

Her father said she could bluff her way out of anything. His foot went down, beside it. Instead, he bent down and picked it up, tossing it towards her that dropped at her feet. She looked from the transmitter to the man in front of her. Strangely, she felt no fear towards this man, when she should be scared out of her friggin' mind.

Holding his gaze, she bent down and removed the transmitter, placing it into the pocket of the harem pants that had been given to her. "Bring your armies, it will do you no good, you are now in my lands."

Startled, she stared at him. "Sorry? What lands? Where am I?"

"Taraha, my home."

"Really," she crossed her arms again. "And is that what you do here, buy women?"

His eyes narrowed, watching her intensely, not looking fazed at all. "How old did you say you were?" And too smart for his own good.

"I grew up quickly after being kidnapped and sold to you. By the way, how does that make you feel? Like a real man?" Her hip popped out towards the side. Clasping one arm, he ran his thumb over his chin as he moved towards her, while she stiffened as he walked around her with interest, his eyes roaming slowly over her. Her back went rigid.

"Are you always this forthright?" She watched him closely, although her heart was pounding, her temple throbbing. All a brave front. They wanted her meek and scared. Being brave and defiant had kept her safe so far.

Stopping in front of her again, he brought out her passport. Her finger dug into her arms to stop snatching it from his hold. He had gone through her personal belongings that had hardly anything connected to her real one. His eyes kept flicking from the photo to her, back and forth, until his gaze lingered back on her.

He shut the passport. "Forgery. So who are you really?" He captured her face in his hand and tilted up, looking deeply into her eyes. His touch burned her skin, leaving it tingling. Not good! No, she was just out of sorts. Off-balance and he was affecting her in ways he had no right to, gritting her teeth. "A lot older, who are you really Claire Donovan? Is that even your name?"