Guilt scythed through her, tightening her fists in her lap, even as she held onto the thin hope that Tahir hadn’t turned her away. Yet.
But what if he did?
She pursed her lips. She’d fight that battle if it arrived.
She was affirming that to herself when specks of white dotted the sandy vista. Rapt by the sheer, deadly beauty of the desert, she watched the specks turn into a large sprawl of Bedouin tents, varying in size from small, individual camping-sized ones to some large enough to house several families. Each one had their highest points tipped in the same gold she’d seen in Jukrati mosques and temples.
Brought back down to earth by their landing, she watched a group rush towards the aircraft, hands raised in rapturous greeting of their Sheikh.
On a wild frantic whim, she fished out her phone. Stared in stomach-dropping dread at the no signal icon displayed on the screen.
The sound of the door opening drew her attention to Tahir as he stepped out to greet his people.
Laser-sharp eyes zeroed in on her, dragging up a foreboding shiver.
None of her family or friends knew her exact whereabouts.
She might have boarded his helicopter of her own free will, but in doing so she’d placed herself completely at the mercy of Tahir bin Halim Al-Jukrat.
The man she’d wronged so devastatingly twelve years ago.
Tahir watched her over the heads of his subjects, the thought he’d had en route, that he should’ve left her on the helipad, slowly morphing into a shrewder plan.
The initial reason he hadn’t had her escorted out of his kingdom was because he’d been curious. That note in her voice...
Desperation.
The kind he’d experienced once upon a time. When he’d been in her position. When he’d pleaded for her support.
And she’d turned her back on him.
But that had given way to something else.
The greater need for retribution. He’d thought he resented her being here on someone else’s behalf rather than on her own quest for his forgiveness. He despised her even more that that person was her self-absorbed brother.
His lips twisted as he gazed over the endless dunes of Zinabir, his home for the next two weeks. The soaring cream-coloured tents with their gleaming gold turrets he’d flown over should’ve calmed him.
He’d been looking forward to swimming in the clear lake nestled beneath his favourite mountain at his final destination; to the whispered seduction of the wind weaving through the dunes at dawn.
Instead, he was submerged in the chaotic emotions only this woman evoked in him. But...no matter. She’d handed him the perfect opportunity to settle their past once and for all. Perhaps it was even karmic that it happened here, with the very tools his grandfather had taught him with.
He smiled grimly and took satisfaction in watching her eyes widen. Took satisfaction in watching her pink tongue slick over her bottom lip, that nervous tic dragging heat to his groin.
Oh, yes, Lauren Winchester would definitely rue stepping into his web.
Charged emotion pulsing through him as his plan unfurled, he raised an eyebrow at her, daring her to take up his silent challenge.
She remained in the helicopter, frozen in her seat, not exactly prey because Lauren Winchester, no matter how much she’d changed, would never be a victim. But the look in her eyes said she knew she was at his mercy.
A primitive sort of pleasure wove through him, settling his intentions into his bones with satisfaction he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He saw the moment she took note of it.
Her nostrils flared in peril-scenting. Had he been close enough, he suspected he would’ve seen the pulse fluttering at her throat.
Fight or flight tension held her in its talons. Except flight was no longer an option. By boarding his aircraft and allowing herself to be flown across an arid and unforgiving desert, she’d sealed her fate. And the truth was hitting home. Hard.
As he indulged in the sights and sounds of the familiar, his brain considered just what had brought her here.