His mouth tilted at the corners. ‘I’m touched at your eagerness to be alone with me, kitten,’ he said drily, ‘but surely you can survive another few minutes in the company of my countrymen.’
‘It’s not that. It’s—there’s…’ Her voice faded away. The man had vanished again.
‘Look, I haven’t time to play games. If there’s something you want to say, say it.’
She stared at him while her brain shrieked at her to tell him about the bearded man. But what, exactly, was there to say? That she’d seen the same face a couple of times and panicked?
‘Well?’ he said, his voice rough with impatience.
Dorian swallowed drily. ‘I—I was only going to say that I’m tired.’
Jake’s brows drew together as he looked at her. His gaze moved over her face, lingering on her shadowed eyes and trembling mouth, and she waited for him to say something scathing. Instead, to her surprise, he sighed and pulled her into the curve of his shoulder.
‘I know. But the next part of our journey will be easier, I promise.’
She closed her eyes for an instant as she let herself lean into him. How could it still feel so right to let him hold her close?
‘I hope so,’ she mumbled into his jacket. ‘I’ve about had it with camping out under the stars.’
Jake laughed softly. ‘OK. Tell you what. You stay here while I buy the horses. How does that sound?’
As if he was heading for a telephone, she thought breathlessly. She drew back and gave him what she prayed was an innocent smile.
‘It sounds—it sounds like a good idea.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I assume you’re not foolish enough to even think about taking off without me.’
‘In a crowd like this?’ She shuddered delicately. ‘Believe me, Jake, I won’t move an inch.’
Except to dog your footsteps… And what harm could come to her if she did that? He was going for a phone, she was certain of it.
‘And you’re not afraid to be alone for a few minutes?’
But she wouldn’t be alone, not the way he meant. Not if she followed after him…
‘Dorian?’
She shook her head. ‘No. Of course not. I’ll—I’ll be grateful for the chance to rest.’
He gave her a long, assessing look, and then he nodded. ‘All right. I won’t be long, I promise.’ Clasping her arm, he drew her to a stall where the counters overflowed with woollen and cotton clothing. She watched while he spoke to the heavy-set proprietor and pressed several coins into her hand. The woman peered past him at Dorian and nodded.
‘OK,’ Jake said when he turned back to her, ‘it’s all taken care of. I’ve explained that you’re from a distant hill country. I told her that you don’t understand our language and that you have an unfortunate handicap that keeps you from speaking normally, even in your own tongue.’
Dorian grimaced. ‘What a charming description. What does she think of me?’
‘She thinks you are a woman who needs looking after.’
‘I’ll bet!’
‘I told her that I’m concerned for your welfare in this village of scoundrels. She promises she will take good care of you while you choose trousers and a shirt for me and a jellaba for yourself, and that she will see to it you don’t wander off and get yourself into trouble.’ He laughed softly as he bent and kissed her cheek. ‘Get that look of outrage off your face, my beloved wife,’ he whispered, ‘or I’ll trot you down to the marriage broker.’
Dorian gritted her teeth as Jake strolled away. Go on, she thought, enjoy yourself. I’m the one who’s going to have the last laugh once we reach Kadar. In fact, once I’ve made this call…
The vendor caught her hand as she started to step out after Jake.
‘Bobska? Bobska, nasht vadai.’
Dorian looked at her helplessly. The woman was taking her responsibilities seriously, dammit! Jake was almost at the end of the street; soon, he’d fade from view.
She shook her head urgently and pointed after him. But the woman only smiled gently without relinquishing her grasp in the slightest.
‘Nasht vadai.’
‘Stay here,’ she was saying.
Dorian rose on tiptoe. Jake was at the corner, he was turning it…
‘Dammit!’ The word exploded from her lips. She swung towards the woman. ‘You must let go of me. Let go, do you hear?’
The dark, liquid eyes widened. ‘You—you English, bobska?’
‘No. Not English, I’m American. I…’ Dorian caught her breath. ‘You—you speak my language,’ she whispered.
The woman nodded. ‘My menya—my cousin,’ she said proudly. ‘In Chicago.’
‘Listen to me.’ Dorian looked around, then moved closer. ‘Do you have a phone? A phone,’ she repeated sharply when the woman looked blank. ‘You know. Hello? How are you? A phone!’
‘Your man say you no speak, bobska.’
‘He’s not my man.’ Dorian’s jaw shot forward. ‘He—he’s taken me from my people.’
‘Ahh.’ The woman frowned. ‘Bad, take womans.’
‘Yes. And I must contact them and tell them what he’s done. A phone.’ She mimed putting a receiver to her ear. ‘Do you have one?’
The woman shook her head. ‘Office,’ she said, pointing down the street. ‘Tele—tele…’
‘There’s a telegram office in Quarem?’ The woman nodded and Dorian smiled in triumph. So. That was where Jake had gone. She had been right; two could, indeed, play at this game. ‘Do you have pencil and paper? Pencil and paper,’ she repeated, miming writing on the palm of her hand with her finger.
The woman frowned. ‘No-o…’ Her eyes lit. ‘Wait,’ she said, and she turned and moved quickly along the narrow aisle. She was back in seconds, clutching a soiled paper sack and a tiny pencil stub. ‘Pencil, paper,’ she said proudly.
Dorian printed WorldWeek’s address, then hesitated. What message could she send Walt that would tell him everything but have no meaning for anyone else? A smile curved across her mouth. She bent over the paper as the shawl slipped from her head to her shoulders.
‘Assignment completed,’ she wrote. ‘Emperor of World in pocket. Arrive two days, Valley of Two Suns.’ She signed it, ‘Blondie.’
?
??Can you send this for me?’ she said urgently. ‘I—I have no money. But I’ll pay you back after—after my family comes for me.’
‘I do.’ The woman’s mouth narrowed. ‘Bad man, take womans.’
Dorian nodded. ‘He—the man with me—mustn’t know.’
The woman nodded, too, as she took the note and stuffed it into her pocket. ‘Bobska take,’ she said, pointing to the garments on the shelves.
Dorian nodded. ‘Bless you,’ she said breathlessly, ‘you’re right. This, then,’ she said, pointing to a dark blue caftan. ‘And—and this. And…’
The hair rose on the nape of her neck. She straightened slowly, and as she did she saw the other woman’s eyes widen.
‘Vostaritch,’ she muttered, nodding her head surreptitiously at something behind Dorian.
From the look on her face, whatever she saw was not good. Dorian took a deep breath, then swung around.
Her throat constricted. It was the bearded man, only now he was on horseback. And he was not alone—two others, as big and as ugly as he, rode with him. He smiled, showing a mouthful of discoloured teeth, and said something that made the men with him burst into laughter.
‘Bobska!’ The woman from the stall shoved her, hard. ‘Go,’ she said urgently. ‘Go, bobska!’
Dorian didn’t hesitate. She spun away and raced blindly down the narrow street, driven by a terror so primal that it drove all rational thought out of her head. All she knew was that she had to reach Jake before the hoofbeats and that awful male laughter caught up with her.
A small herd of horses was staked just ahead, but would she find Jake there? If he’d gone to send a telegram, then she’d have to face whatever rode behind her alone.
There was no time to think about it. She ran towards the horses. It was her only chance. Jake had to be here. He had to be…
‘Dorian?’
She fell into his outstretched arms, sobbing his name, burrowing into his embrace while she gasped for breath.
‘Dorian.’ His voice was rough with concern. ‘Kitten, what is it?’
A tremor went through her. ‘A man,’ she huffed. ‘A horrible man. He—he was watching me.’
‘Where?’ Jake grasped her shoulders and held her from him. ‘Dorian. Tell me where you saw him!’