Desert Rogue (22 page)

“Whatever you say, Vicky,” he agreed, conscious of the privilege she had allowed him. Hurriedly, he pulled himself up behind her on the camel, wrapped his arm about her waist and tugged at the camel's bit. “
Kam,
you mangy creature.
Rah!
”

* * *

The day was passing surprisingly quickly, Victoria found, when Jed signaled the midday halt. They had ridden until past noon, detouring away from the dervish camp, and then headed northeast toward the Nile. Yet the hours had flown by. Trusting Jed to manage the camel, she had persuaded him to talk about his brothers and his family, growing up in the wilds of Kentucky, as well as later when he came to adulthood.

“You mean Jed Kincaid has actually been seen in evening clothes?” she teased as she set out the dried meats and fruit for their midday meal. “I don't believe it.”

“My favorite night wear is nothing at all,” he said with a wicked grin, lowering himself to sit beside her on the sand. “But if I have to leave the house, casual trousers and a cotton shirt.”

“But that would not suffice in the hallowed presence of society matrons,” objected Victoria.

“Out of deference to my mother and Mr. Bradshaw, I did occasionally don formal attire,” admitted Jed, a grimace crossing his features. “However, I would not venture out onto the dance floor for anyone. Even if I was wearing a monkey suit, I wasn't about to act like a trained chimp. That was where I drew the line, no dancing!”

“Oh, come now, Jed. You ride gracefully—”

“That's because the horse does the stepping—”

What better excuse to be back in Jed's arms than teaching him to waltz, Victoria thought as inspiration overtook her.

“We're not in the public eye here, and the floor has no limits. Ali, would you keep time for us? One, two, three, one, two, three...”

“But of course, Victoria,” the Egyptian agreed, not believing she would succeed. Kincaid dance? It would be a rare sight to behold, another miracle to share with Fatima. “One, two, three, and one, two—”

“Ali, shut up, we don't need your counting.”

“That's fine, Ali. Continue,” she instructed, dismissing her partner's reluctance. “Come on, Jed, it will be fun.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Vicky. I have no feel for the rhythm of real music, let alone Ali's substitute. And you and I aren't the same height so it'll be awkward. The sand will get in our way,” argued Jed, busily listing objections, foolish as they might be. “Besides, we really don't have the time. We should be traveling so we can reach the Nile and get a
falucca
tonight.”

“We just stopped a few minutes ago, Jed, and we usually rest at least three hours at noon,” she responded, “so don't use time as an excuse. I mean, I can understand if you are afraid—”

“Afraid?” he snorted. “That's hardly the case.”

“One, two, three, and one, two, three...”

“Yes, you are. You think Ali and I might laugh at you. But if we should, remember dancing is meant to be an amusement.”

“I can think of an amusement that would be much more entertaining,” muttered Jed.

“Oh, don't be so stodgy. We have been riding for days and my legs are stiff. A waltz would let me work out the knots,” claimed the blonde, stretching her shapely legs out in front of her. Slowly rising to her feet, she tossed her head, sending her hat flying so her sun-bleached curls danced in the sunshine as she pretended to pout. “Of course, if you really don't care about my welfare...”

But her feminine wiles bore no fruit as Jed remained seated.

“Come here and show me how we don't fit together,” she challenged, grabbing his hand and urging him to his feet. Reluctantly, Jed allowed her to do so.

“One, two, three, and one, two...” intoned Ali.

“See, this isn't so bad,” she said triumphantly.

“In case you haven't noticed, we're standing still.”

Deciding more aggressive action was needed, Victoria took Jed's hand and placed it on her waist, confident he wouldn't object.

“Hmm, this part feels good,” he murmured.

“It all will, I promise. Now, turn toward me and take my left hand in your right.”

“Without gloves—or a chaperone?” he asked with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

“I'm sure it's no more unseemly than the two of us riding one camel,” she replied, determined to have her way. On horseback or simply walking, Jed displayed a supple grace that had to translate well to dancing, and she was not about to give up without proving it. In fact, she suspected the American was probably a better dancer than Hayden, who always held himself too firmly in control to move easily on the dance floor.

“Let your body relax, Jed, and move one foot, then the other,” she urged, maneuvering him to follow her directions.

“One, two, three, and one, two, three...”

“A song might offer better inspiration, Ali,” criticized Jed. He had thus far avoided stepping on Victoria's feet, but there was no guarantee that it wouldn't happen any minute. Indeed, he would have quit the exercise altogether, only she felt so wonderful in his arms.

“Egyptian music is not for waltzing, Jed,” replied the Cairene, “though I doubt any music would help your wooden stance there. One, two, three, and one...”

“Ali is right, Jed. Feel the tempo,” Victoria encouraged. Hugging Jed closer, she tried to help him absorb the rhythm by humming in his ear as Ali continued to count. “Let your body respond to what mine is doing.”

If only she hadn't suggested that, thought Jed, fighting the urge to ravish her as she swayed against him, torturing every fiber of his self-control.

“Vicky, let's forget the whole thing.”

“Nonsense, you're improving already,” she said, trying to give him confidence. “Just surrender to your body's natural instincts.”

“Oh, honey, I'd love to,” Jed moaned, knowing he should stop the lesson, but unable to deny himself the pleasure of feeling her curves move against him in the most tantalizing manner. She felt as though she were born to be in his arms, an extension of himself. But how much longer could he stand this sweet agony?

Then, just as Jed was about to give up and admit defeat, he understood what she meant. He could tell from her body's subtle shift where she was going next, and he moved that way, pleased to hear her laughter tinkle up at him.

“One, two, three, and one, two, three...”

And all at once, with Vicky in his arms, Jed understood what Keats had meant about unheard melodies being sweeter. He whirled her around the sand as though the London Orchestra was providing the music, the same music that sang in his heart. When she laughed, he echoed the sound as it rippled across the dun-colored sand, imbuing the lethal desert with unexpected joy.

“Those women in San Francisco didn't know what they were missing, or they would never have allowed you to stay off the dance floor,” Victoria praised breathlessly. So taken was she with the firm muscles in Jed's shoulders and the rock-hard planes of his chest that she hated the idea of stepping away from her partner. Yet even the most magical of parties must end, she decided reluctantly. “Ali, thank you, but that's enough.”

“One, two, three.” Jed took up the call, increasing the tempo as he swung Victoria in a wide circle. Without warning, he lifted her up against him, hugged her tightly and set her down again, bowing deeply from the waist. “Thank you for a most unexpected pleasure.”

“It was mine, Jed,” answered Victoria as she gazed shyly up at him. He needed a shave again and his wardrobe might not be de rigueur, but Jed Kincaid was a prince of a man. However, she remembered with a start, unfortunately, Hayden Reed had a prior claim on her heart, a claim she could not, in good conscience, ignore any longer.

“I could use a nice cool drink,” said Jed as he reached for one of the water bags. “Vicky?”

“Thank you, there's something I must attend to first,” she declared softly, needing a reason to get away from Jed and still her racing heart. “If you two will excuse me...”

“I fear you will have to settle for a
long
drink rather than a cool one,” corrected Ali. “Nothing is cool in this heat. By the end of your performance, you looked as though you almost knew what you were doing.”

“Thanks for your less than generous compliment,” replied Jed. “Dancing was not my idea.”

“Nor was it a good one,” scolded the Egyptian quietly as Victoria moved off. “The woman belongs to another man. You have no right to tempt her as you have been doing.”

“
Me
tempt
her?
Damn it, Ali, are you going blind? She leaned against me all morning, she laughed and smiled, and then she put my arms around her, and you say I am at fault?”

“I said nothing of fault, that is your conscience speaking,” quibbled Ali. “It remains a fact, however, that you encourage her to be near you, even sleeping beside her, all the while knowing she is young and inexperienced—”

“So you accuse me of preying on an innocent?”

“Not yet, but I imagine it is inevitable given the passions that run between the two of you.”

“You've been in the sun too long, shopkeeper! Put your
kaffiyeh
back on your head and perhaps this insane talk will pass. There is no passion between us,” he declared, only half-truthfully. There
could
be passion on his part, it was possible, even probable, but thus far he had kept the flames at bay.

“Do not take me for a fool. You know well that the fire burning in her eyes from anger will glow twice as hot when she is in the throes of loving. My Fatima is much like her—”

“But Victoria doesn't love me!” Here at least was a truth Jed could defend honestly. “She loves that pompous ass Reed.”

“Then do not distract her from that love. It is not fair to her or to you to taste fruits that are not rightfully yours to harvest,” warned Ali. “In fact, it might be better were Victoria to ride with me—”

“I hardly think your wife would approve of that arrangement,” Jed hedged, running his fingers through his hair. Moments in the saddle with Vicky's derriere rubbing suggestively between his thighs were too pleasurable to forgo. Many was the time he thanked heaven for the concealment of his
gallabiya.
He was living on a tightrope stretched taut between desire and conscience, but he was not about to abandon the challenge. “No, I am certain the lovely Fatima would much prefer that Victoria remain my charge.”

“Fatima?” echoed Victoria as she rejoined the men. “Have you met her, Jed?”

“Not yet, but Ali was saying how much you are alike.”

“Really? Do we share the same features?”

“No, not alike in looks, though she is small like you. In spirit, however, you are much the same. You both have strong preferences and large hearts, and you allow nothing to interfere with either, though, at times, that is not the wisest of paths. Often it is safer to overrule one's heart rather than tempt disaster.”

Raising her eyebrows at Ali's solemn tone, Victoria looked at him closely. Was he trying to warn her about something? It certainly sounded like it, but what? Riding with Jed? Dancing in the desert? Before she could question him, he continued.

“I miss my Fatima very much. She is the breath I need to live, and without her, my days are dark and dreary, even under the midday sun,” the Cairene admitted with a rueful smile. “Still, I am certain I am not alone in such feelings. It must be much the same as you feel toward your Mr. Reed—”

Jed snorted in disbelief at Ali's obvious ploy to discourage Vicky's attention. Why was the bastard making such an issue of it now? In three days they would be back in Cairo. What could happen between now and then?

“Mr. Reed? Oh, Hayden...yes, I suppose it is the same,” demurred Victoria, looking up at the sky, down at the ground, anywhere but at Jed. “Of course, I cannot wait to see him again.”

“By not coming after you himself, Hayden is the one responsible for your still being apart,” interjected Jed. Enough of this nonsense about Reed, let Victoria realize just what a coward the man was. “Had he been brave enough to come with me—”

“Brave or not, he is Victoria's choice,” reminded Ali.

“No, he didn't come to Khartoum, he sent you,” argued Victoria, overriding the Egyptian's words to defend the fiancé she betrayed each time she looked at Jed Kincaid. “And he was right to employ you. Haven't you done your utmost to get me back to his arms? In fact, I'm surprised we are not traveling even now instead of listening to you pontificate.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them, but the falsity of Ali's belief that she was longing for Hayden with every breath made her lash out. How could she explain to Jed that she felt guilty for responding to him and forgetting Hayden in his presence? Watching the angry flush deepen the American's sun-burnished face, however, Victoria knew she had to attempt an apology, if not an explanation.

“Jed, I'm sorry—”

“Don't be. You were right, I forgot that I was only the hired hand. Ali, we'll ride shortly, so stow the supplies.”

“Of course, Jed.”

At once the Egyptian was on his feet gathering the blankets and food, but Victoria gave him no thought. She had wounded Jed's pride and she could not let the matter end there.

“Jed Kincaid, I want you to stop and listen to me a minute. I'll be disappointed if you don't do so.”

“Most people have to live with disappointment every day of their lives, Vicky. It's time you got used to it,” he advised, moving toward his camel to attach the water bag to its saddle.

“Damn it, Jed, what I said was wrong—”

“But thinking it wasn't?” he challenged without turning around. “Soft words are handy shields to hide behind when things go amiss.”