Desert Rogue (27 page)

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Authors: Erin Yorke

BOOK: Desert Rogue
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Jed finished dressing and did his best to tamp down his smoldering temper. Then, with an outer calmness that quarreled with his inner fury, he returned to the spot where they had beached the
falucca.

To his consternation, however, Ali had already loaded the river craft and pulled it into the Nile, where it bobbed erratically, like some animate water creature straining to escape.

Victoria sat in the prow, graceful and regal. For Jed, such impatience to depart appeared another indication that the woman he loved was all too eager to return to the arms of another man. The notion filled him with fresh rage, and he roared like a wounded lion as he paced the shore.

“I'm not going anywhere, Vicky, until we get this matter settled to my satisfaction. Ali, get that damned boat back here.”

“Prepare to sail, Ali,” Victoria countermanded, her quiet reserve more effective than Jed's bellowing. “If you want to come with us, Jed, I suggest you do so now.”

Ali looked from one to the other. Though he had warned against such a relationship, the Egyptian had known upon awakening this morning that Jed and Victoria had abandoned him in order to find each other. But something had obviously gone wrong.

Assuming their newly conceived relationship was doomed before it had ever really begun, Ali was startled to spy Victoria's sidelong glance at the American as she pretended to assiduously ignore him. Jed, in turn, continued to vigorously insist upon her notice. To Ali's eyes, it was obvious that the seductive dance begun in the heat of the desert had yet to be concluded.

“Ali! We're partners. Get that damnable hunk of wood back here. Vicky and I have something to talk about,” Jed called again, his tone promising dire consequences if his wishes were thwarted.

“Tell him we're leaving,” Victoria entreated, seeing the Egyptian's indecision. “Remind him that I'm anxious to return home to the life and fiancé waiting for me there.”

His loyalties divided, Ali looked from Jed to Victoria once more. He considered it a great pity that the Jed Kincaid who had brought them safely through the relentless hazards of a lethal desert could not follow the simple path of his own heart. Or for that matter, that Victoria, so well educated in the demands of society, knew nothing about the behavior of a man in love. But they were both blind as beggars as their argument continued.

“I told you, Vicky,” Jed called, not bothering to wait for Ali to convey Victoria's message before he replied, “I'm not going anywhere until you change your mind. And there's nothing you can do about it short of abandoning me here.”

“If you force my hand, that's exactly what I'll do,” Victoria countered. She feared if she did as he bid, her already weak resolve would evaporate. Terrorized that her surrender would ultimately mean his sacrifice, she held fast. “Ali, set the sail.”

“What!” Jed thundered. “After I escorted you all of the way back from Khartoum, you're willing to desert me!” He wanted to throttle her, he wanted to bend her to his will, but most of all, he wanted desperately for Vicky to return to him of her own accord.

“We're leaving now, Jed,” Ali finally interjected when it appeared that the two had reached a stalemate. From what he could observe, this was not an issue that would be settled quickly. Close as they were to Cairo, he was unwilling to squander more time. He had been away from Fatima overlong as it was. If Jed and the woman had anything to say to each other, they could do it aboard the
falucca,
not on the banks of the Nile. “Join us or stay as you will. We are getting under way directly.”

“Go ahead, Brutus, but I'm staying here,” Jed repeated, his obdurate features set in stone. He stood, golden arms folded across his well-muscled chest, waiting for the others to relent.

“That's your choice, Jed,” Victoria shouted loudly but calmly, unwilling for his sake as well as hers to be forced into enduring any more of the deadly assault he waged upon her heart. “I know a man of your skills will have no trouble getting himself to Cairo.”

It wasn't until the
falucca
began to drift farther from the riverbank that Jed perceived Victoria was quite serious.

“Wait!” he called, swallowing his pride yet managing to sound imperious all the same. “After keeping you alive this long, Vicky, I can't entrust your safety to a damn fool like Ali. Once I undertake a job, I see it through to its conclusion.
I'll
take responsibility for returning you to your precious Hayden in one piece.”

“Too bad you didn't think of that last night,” Ali muttered, his words lost in the wind beginning to fill the boat's sail.

“Bring the boat back to shore so I can board,” Jed dictated.

Suddenly Victoria felt herself once again in a quandary. Of course she couldn't actually leave the man to whom she owed her life standing alone on the sandbank. But neither could she bear for Jed to begin his arguments anew under the misguided notion that he could override her objections. Maneuvering the
falucca
into position as he directed would only be construed, through his distinctly distorted male perspective, as some sort of victory. And she couldn't permit Jed the slightest glimmer of hope that if he could persuade her to steer the boat into shallow water, he could persuade her to be his wife, as well.

Placing her fingertips alongside her throbbing temples, Victoria considered her dilemma, conscious of the two men regarding her with blistering intensity. Watching the ripples of the Nile flow by, she had an inspiration.

“There's plenty of room aboard, Jed,” she called, “but if you want to come with Ali and me, you'll have to come to us.”

“What am I supposed to do, swim?” he asked incredulously.

“Why not?” she called with forced gaiety. “I seem to recall you telling me how much you like frolicking in the water.” From Jed's scowling reaction, Victoria sensed she had been successful. Forced to swim out to the
falucca,
he would undoubtedly be in such a temper that he would shut her out and keep to himself once he arrived. At least that was the pattern he had followed on their journey across the desert whenever she had done anything to particularly annoy him. As she watched Jed lunge into the great river and begin his powerful strokes, cutting through the surface of the water with apparent ease, Victoria prayed that such would be the case now, as well.

* * *

From the moment he had pulled himself into the boat, dripping and infuriated, Jed had maintained a stony silence. He sat apart from the others in the stern of the
falucca,
an ominous presence seeking to hide his rent heart and injured pride behind the fierce glowering he aimed at Vicky and, occasionally, Ali.

Only the term
utter betrayal
could aptly describe the grievous wrong Vicky had done him, at least to Jed's way of thinking. Rejection was something new to him, and he was at a loss as to how to deal with it. It was ironic, he thought bitterly, that he had spent most of his adult life eluding the grasp of wily females who saw him as a perspective spouse, only to be spurned by the one woman who had made him think of marriage.

His steely eyes riveted to Victoria's profile, Jed swore to conceal the raw gash of grief that ran through him.

Alone with his thoughts, he eventually turned to watch the fertile land fronting Egypt's great river slip by as Ali skillfully steered the
falucca
closer and closer to Cairo. But the troubled American didn't really see the whitewashed houses with their domed pigeon coops and outdoor ovens. He didn't notice the oxen set to turning the irrigation wheels, coaxing the river's waters into shallow ditches meant to reclaim arid land. Nor did he observe the
fellaheen
at work and at play alongside the Nile's banks.

Instead, Jed saw only Victoria's face as it floated through his wretched memories, stubbornly courageous in the pens of Khartoum, blushing in response to one of his more colorful remarks, alive with anger when they had battled along the trail, and most vivid of all, the face she had worn last night, lips ripe and eyes alive with blue flame, when she had joined him in sweet ecstasy.

Such a countenance was nothing like the icy facade she was displaying during this last leg of their journey, allowing it to slip only when she conversed with Ali. In so vile a mood, Jed attempted to dismiss the light, idle patter that passed between the woman he had idolized and the man he had considered his friend. But his irate frustration grew each time he observed their camaraderie and felt himself the outsider.

He also noted with aggravation that they had journeyed since dawn, and in his companions' haste to reach Cairo, they had stopped for neither the midday nor evening meal, preferring to nibble at their food while sailing. At the rate at which they traveled, they would reach their destination just after nightfall, when they could rush to the homes they were so anxious to see again. Well, he'd find someplace to go, too, Jed assured himself, someplace where he could forget blue-eyed women who said one thing with their caresses and something entirely different with words.

But it was no use. He found he couldn't delude himself.
Khere ohe,
or Cairo, was approaching much too rapidly to suit him. The great city might be known as the diamond on the handle of the Nile Delta's fan, yet for Jed Kincaid, it was not a destination rich with promise. Instead, it was a place that would tender him nothing other than an end to his impossible dreams.

And still the
falucca
pressed forward. On his left, he saw the village of Esh Shobak, and situated on the right was Et Teben. Soon they would pass the crumbled foundations of fabled Memphis, and after that, Giza, its ancient pyramids visible against the desert wilderness awash with impending sunset. Then, skirting the islands in the middle of the Nile River, Cairo would finally rise up on the eastern bank of the river, the Mokattan Hills providing a dramatic backdrop behind it.

As the debris of centuries sprawled before him along the shores of the majestic Nile, its very presence seeming to grasp at ages long gone, Jed silently cursed the fact that time was something that could not be recaptured. If it were possible, he would travel back in time but a dozen hours and extract Vicky's promise to become his wife while they had been in the throes of loving and she had been unable to deny him anything.

But as it was, his life was no different than the shattered ruins strewn along the bank. Jed felt that like them, he would never again be whole. Soon Vicky would disembark, and then she would be lost to him forever.

At the notion, Jed began to wage a mighty struggle with his ego, wanting to confront her once more and contest her decision before it was too late. Yet he was unable to make the first move until he heard her silken voice advising Ali about the location of her father's estate, a few miles north of the city. Then he felt his courage surface, buoyed up by his rising sense of desperation. Unfolding his well-muscled body, Jed stood and turned toward Victoria, his purposeful step echoing along the
falucca
's keel.

Forcing herself to concentrate on the ripples of the Nile as they fragmented the sunset into a thousand gleaming jewels, Victoria was too timid to allow her thoughts free rein. She knew with certainty that, unchecked, every single idea would center around the fiery, virile man who all day had sat rigid with pride such a short distance away, and yet, forever beyond her reach.

For hours on end, she had tried to keep her guilt at bay for the treatment to which she had subjected Jed when they had departed the landing site north of Gharb Assuan. But he was the sort of man to assume acquiescence in one area meant surrender in all. While it had been cruel to make him swim out to the
falucca,
it would have been entirely heartless to have allowed his expectations for their future to renew themselves by giving in on even that issue. The penitent blonde held on to the thought, but it didn't make her feel any better, nor did the sudden sound of Jed's approach, leather boots on sun-dried wood.

“Vicky, we have to talk,” Jed said. The soft persistence in his voice made Victoria's heart ache. Whatever hell she had inadvertently created for him, for both of them if truth be told, it was apparent Jed stubbornly refused to abandon all hope.

“There's nothing to discuss,” she stated, refusing to turn her head until the gentle pressure of his fingers along her jaw forced her.

“Have the decency to look me in the face when you lie to me,” he commanded firmly. “We both left a lot unsaid. Maybe in my eagerness, I rushed you, demanding a response you weren't ready to give—”

“I'll never be ready to give you what you want,” Victoria hastily retorted, as an eavesdropping Ali listened intently and misinterpreted her meaning.

“Never is a long time, Vicky,” Jed commented. He allowed his forefinger to trace the curve of her cheek lightly before falling across her lips and moving down to her chin.

“Your demand didn't bother me. In fact, it was a relief to get things out in the open and over with,” Victoria claimed defiantly. She was so occupied with fighting the sensations Jed's touch evoked that she was oblivious to Ali's eyebrows rising in surprise as he loosened his hold upon the sail, the
falucca
veering sharply to the right until he could get it back on course.

“Then what's the problem, Vicky?” Jed inquired, only slightly aware of the boat's movement as he tried to be patient and understanding.

“You,” she erupted crossly. She wanted to send him back to his self-imposed exile in the rear of the
falucca.
How much more of his purposeful attentions she could endure, she didn't know. “What would ever make you think I'd want to marry a man like you?”

Marry? Ali thought, a grin bursting upon his face. Why hadn't either of these foolish foreigners informed him that marriage had been mentioned? That made this no more than a lover's quarrel.

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