Desert Rogue (28 page)

“Maybe it was the way you moaned my name last night,” Jed drawled, hooking his thumbs into the top of his trousers. Against the waning Egyptian sun, he appeared larger than life, more than human, and very, very male. Chuckling quietly at the impact of his words when Victoria squirmed uneasily, Jed awaited her response, certain she could not deny the truth of what he had said.

“How dare you!” Victoria finally exclaimed, seeking to make it appear that his words had offended her rather than nearly causing her surrender. “Your rude comment only proves my point. You're no gentleman. I could never wed a man of your sort,” she lied, praying the quivering that shook her soul would not extend to her voice. “Vicky Kincaid? Hardly! Hayden is the one to whom I have given my heart, and I can't wait until I am
Victoria Reed.
”

Hearing her name joined with that of the consular agent was the spark that finally lit Jed's ever-shortening fuse and caused him to explode.

“So Hayden's the man you love?” he roared.

“Yes, he is,” Victoria insisted, despite what it cost her.

“Then why bother to go to your parents' home tonight? Why don't we just dock in Cairo and I can take you directly to Reed, the man of your dreams?”

“But—”

“But what, Vicky?” Jed boomed, his neck corded with tension and his green eyes darkened by anger. “Surely you can't bear to be separated from him for a moment longer than need be...unless you're not telling me the truth.”

“I am,” Victoria averred. “Take me to Hayden. I'm longing to see him. I can't wait until he holds me in his arms once again.”

“Then damn it, that's exactly what I'm going to do,” a frustrated Jed growled, stomping over to Ali and taking control of the boat. “Just think, within a few hours, you'll be rid of me and in Reed's embrace,” he taunted.

Malicious as his wretchedness made him sound, somewhere, hidden deep within the recesses of his mind, Jed nurtured the hope that if Victoria could view her two suitors side by side and compare them, she would not be so quick to settle for the Englishman. It was a gambit infused with as much risk as desperation. But the way Jed figured it, it was his last opportunity to win Vicky's heart before she disappeared into her world and he was left alone in his.

D
arkness had fallen before Jed finally moored the
falucca
at a spot not too far from the British Consulate. Helping Victoria onto the quay, Ali darted Jed a searching look as the American jumped ashore.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go home to your Fatima,” Jed barked before the other man could speak.

“As much as I yearn to see my wife and tell her of my safe return, I do not want to desert you when you are so troubled,” the Egyptian stated, his hawkish features alive with sympathy.

“You didn't mind leaving me on the bank of the Nile this morning,” Jed said with a snort. “As for trouble, I won't have any once I hand
Miss Shaw
over to Reed.”

“Perhaps I should go with you,” Ali said indecisively. He was afraid that if he left the man to his own devices, Jed would only make the situation somehow worse. “We began this journey together. We should end it the same way.”

“Listen, Ali, as far as I'm concerned, our forced partnership is over,” Jed pronounced acridly. “I'm not about to tolerate your company any longer than I have to. Get the hell out of here. I've seen enough of your face to last me a lifetime.”

“All right, so be it. But before I leave, there is something I must say,” Ali stubbornly continued, drawing Jed aside and lowering his voice. “I thought you were a brave man, Jed Kincaid, and now I find that is not the case. Slave markets, dervishes and miles of treacherous sands mean nothing to you. Still, you fear the simple pain of the human heart. You want the woman, and yet I can see from your face you will do nothing to win her. It is a coward's action to turn away. Fight for her, Jed. Forget your trepidation and your pride.”

“Go home,
fellah,
to your spouse and your shop,” Jed hissed, the muscles of his jaw working in barely suppressed fury, “before I permit my temper to get the better of me and I kill you.”

“You know where you can find me,” the Egyptian said quietly before turning back to the
falucca
to claim Fatima's bolts of silk. Then he bid Victoria a fond if brief farewell and walked off.

Jed ran the back of his hand over the stubble-covered planes of his cheeks while he watched Ali's tall, lean frame disappear into the crowd that had begun to form at the sight of such bedraggled travelers arriving at the quay in the darkness.

He certainly wasn't looking his best, but it was Victoria with her disarrayed profusion of blond hair, disheveled blouse and torn skirt that commanded the most notice. Before she could arouse any more curiosity, Jed hired some porters, shouting orders for them to take his saddlebags to the Crescent Hotel where he kept rooms. Then he shouldered his rifle and roughly grabbed Victoria's elbow, propelling her toward the consulate.

* * *

“What do you mean Reed's not here?” Jed shouted, his black scowl meant to quell the pomposity of the aide left in charge of the consulate for the night.

“Just what I said,” the new staff member replied officiously.

“Then where the hell is he?” Jed practically snarled, unwilling to see his plans for coercing Vicky into making a choice fall apart as a result of Hayden Reed's schedule.

“He's most likely at home,” the aide said with a disdainful sniff, eyeing this barbaric colonial and the beauty of questionable character he had in tow.

“Well, send someone to haul his tail back here,” a fuming Jed ordered, his impropriety shocking the minor official more than the rifle he had left with the guard in the vestibule.

“I beg your pardon!” the Englishman commented archly.

“You can do that later,” Jed said. “Right now, go and fetch Reed. Tell him I've returned his fiancée.”

“Miss Shaw?” the incredulous fellow asked in awe, as he took in Victoria's sun-reddened cheeks and shredded clothing. At her nod, his arrogance transformed into fawning solicitation. “I'll see to it right away,” he replied, bowing while he backed out of the room, “and I'll have some tea sent up, shall I?”

“Yeah—I sure could do with a bracing cup of tea right about now,” Jed said with sarcasm lost on the bureaucrat. “And make yourself scarce until Reed gets here,” he called to the retreating figure. “Miss Shaw would like some privacy.”

“Very good, sir.”

After the man's departure, Victoria began to pace the room nervously. She had been shocked and put out to hear that Hayden had left his bachelor quarters and taken up residence in the house that would be theirs. But she had quickly forgiven him, supposing that the move was no more than a desperate clinging to hope, an affirmation that she would return and they would be married. However, it now dawned on her that his absence meant she would be compelled to spend more time alone with Jed Kincaid, something she hardly relished, and her pique with Hayden began to flourish all over again.

Her attitude would make it most difficult to be convincing when she threw herself into her fiancé's arms for their joyous reunion. Yet that was exactly what she had to do in order to make Jed believe Hayden was the man she truly wanted.

Would her virile rescuer watch her then as intently as he was doing at present? She felt his green eyes boring into her as she took step after step across the luxurious rug sitting upon a perfectly polished floor. Graceful and focused as he was, Jed looked like some great desert cat, hungry for prey. With trepidation, Victoria waited to hear his husky growl float across the hot, heavy air that hung between them, but to her relief, he kept his silence.

For each minute that passed without his speaking, a tiny bit of tension eased from her body and gave her cause to hope that perhaps he had seen logic and finally accepted her decision.

By the time the tea arrived, the pretty blonde was comfortable enough to perch on the edge of a damask-covered chair, though she still cast an occasional wary glance in Jed's direction. When the servant had disappeared, she chanced pouring the hot drink set before her, fighting not to allow the trembling of her hands to betray her unsettled state. There was nothing she longed to do as much as throw herself in Jed's arms, but she very civilly poured two cups of tea instead, not at all surprised when one cup remained untouched.

Oh, how she had longed for tea poured from a dainty teapot when she had set out from Khartoum. Back then, she had sworn there was nothing so wonderful as the trappings of civilization. But finding herself seated upon plush, expensive furniture beneath a crystal chandelier, with oil paintings on the wall and a fragile china cup in her hand, she discovered none of it mattered.

Jed Kincaid was what she wanted now. Even in his rumpled clothes, with his dark hair too long and a stubble of beard on his rugged face, Jed possessed a thousand times more dignity than his surroundings. There was an essential masculinity about him, and a vital, virile pride that diminished the importance of the things elite society valued. Once more, she was tempted to go to him, to bow her head and beg him to take her back, until she remembered why she could never be his. After all he had come to mean to her, it was beyond her to condemn Jed to a life of eventual unhappiness.

A soft sigh escaping her, Victoria Shaw reconciled herself to the inevitable. She would set Jed free and try to make Hayden a good wife.

Her roiling thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps along the corridor. Apprehensively, she stood and faced the doorway, steeling herself to do what had to be done.

At the measured tread echoing in the hallway, Jed yearned to take Victoria in his arms and crush her lips with his own, ardently claiming as his right her uninhibited response. Reed's being greeted by such a sight would settle the question of whom Vicky was going to marry once and for all. But despite the plan's bold merits, he decided against it, sensing instinctively that Vicky would hate him for doing such a thing.

With no other options he could see, Jed did nothing more than rise impatiently for the confrontation with Hayden Reed.

Suddenly the door was thrown open, and the tall, spare Englishman rushed into the room. Taking Victoria into his arms, he placed a light kiss on the top of her forehead.

Hell, that wasn't the way he would greet his woman, Jed decided in contempt. Surely a passionate woman like Vicky couldn't be satisfied with such a restrained show of devotion. Still, the sight of Victoria enfolded in Reed's embrace had him clenching his fists as well as his jaw while he waited for the diplomat to stop his murmured crooning to Victoria and to recognize his presence.

When Reed finally pulled away from her, Jed noted that Vicky was crying, huge tears cascading down the contours of her delicate face. It was only the second time he had seen her cry, and the thought that her tears could possibly be those of joy was enough to throw Jed into a frenzy.

“Reed,” he said, his barely controlled voice harsh.

“Kincaid,” Hayden greeted him with a tight nod. “I'll deal with you in a moment, after making certain Miss Shaw is quite all right before sending her home to her parents.”

“Her parents?” Jed echoed in mocking disbelief. Hell, he'd be too busy even to think of notifying the girl's family of her return until sometime around noon tomorrow.

“Of course!” Hayden snapped, annoyed by the impudence of the man he considered no more than a vulgar ruffian. It was beneath him to lose his temper with this brash American before Victoria departed, but restraint seemed impossible in light of Jed's contemptuous smile. He decided, therefore, to dispatch his fiancée to her home with all possible haste so he could deal with the smug American as he deserved.

“Victoria, darling, you seem as well as can be expected under the circumstances,” he began, his lips compressing at the sight of the shapely leg exposed by her skirt. “As overjoyed as I am at your return, I can't be entirely selfish and remiss in my duty to your parents. I shall have an escort brought around to see you safely to your father's estate so that he and your dear mother can partake of the happiness I feel.”

“But, Hayden, don't you want to know what happened?” Victoria asked with distress. Suddenly she was loath to leave Jed's company, her heart bereft at the prospect of never seeing him again.

“Of course, my dear, but that can wait for tomorrow,” he said with a rigid firmness couched behind a gentle tone of voice that set Jed's teeth on edge. “Besides, you must be overcome with exhaustion, and the only place for you is your own bed.”

Her own bed! You don't deserve her, you fool,
Jed wanted to shout, hoping that this rejection would open Vicky's eyes.

“But, Hayden,” Victoria importuned, trying not to compare her fiancé with the man who had saved her life only to claim her heart.

“No buts, Victoria,” Hayden insisted. He reached for the bell pull that would summon his aide. “I won't hear another word about the matter. Do as you're bid like a good girl, won't you?”

To Jed's utter disbelief, Victoria docilely agreed. This wasn't the fiery Vicky he had known. But more than that, the anxious American could not bring himself to believe she would turn her back on him and leave this room,
still
Hayden Reed's intended.

Yet when the aide appeared, Victoria made no further attempt to protest. Eyes lowered, she bid her fiancé good-night, receiving a proper peck on the cheek for her efforts.

In an instant, Jed stopped her before she could follow Reed's lackey into the hallway. Heart beating thunderously in his chest, he knew the moment of truth was at hand.

“Aren't you going to say goodbye to me, Vicky?” he asked, his gruff voice half jeer, half entreaty.

“Of—of course,” Victoria muttered, conscious of Hayden's annoyance. Drawing close to the man she loved, she felt as though she were being wrenched in two. But she told herself that her present pain was for Jed's sake. She had to be strong.

“Goodbye, Mr. Kincaid,” she began, studying the tips of her ruined shoes. Given Jed's silence, she was not prepared for the look in his eyes when she finally raised hers to his. It was a taunting expression, a silent dare. He never thought she'd walk out of this room without him and into a future that included only Hayden Reed.

She faltered for a moment, calling on every bit of courage in order to bid Jed Kincaid farewell. Finally, she knew she had to proceed before she broke down under the strain of what she had to do.

“Thank you for all you have done. I truly appreciate what it has cost you,” Victoria said in a small voice. Close to tears, she reached up to place a light kiss on Jed's cheek. Then, before she could react to the achingly familiar sensation the brief intimacy evoked, she turned and fled amid the flutter of her tattered skirt.

A stunned Jed looked at the door that closed behind her. She really had left him forever, and all for some jackass who would never cherish her as he would have done. Perhaps Vicky's departure was just as well, he decided in an effort to fight the helpless rage swelling up inside him. He certainly hadn't known her as he thought he had. She had been right, they would never suit.

“All right, Kincaid. Let us have at it,” Hayden Reed said briskly, giving Jed an excuse to push his tumultuous emotions aside and regain his control. “You were expressly told to do no more than deliver the ransom. The next thing I know, the oasis was strewn with carcasses and not only has Miss Shaw disappeared. but so had you, the Egyptian and the money. You'd better have a good reason for disobeying orders.”

“I did my job, and I did it damn well,” Jed said with a lazy smile at odds with the grief constricting his heart. “As for orders, I don't answer to you or anyone else.”

“You most certainly do,” Reed insisted.

But before Jed could form a reply that would eradicate the Englishman's arrogance, the door swung wide, catching his attention and renewing his hopes. The figure standing at the threshold was not Victoria's, however, though it was familiar all the same. At the sight of Ali Sharouk, Jed nodded. At the moment he could use a friend, and despite the harsh words with which they had parted, Ali was just about the only one he had in all of Egypt.