I have not been in the mood to write lately but I have been inundated with emails asking me to continue the Sheik and the Slave story. I do enjoy the romance between Kat and Mohammed and I have missed them. It is to all my fans who have encouraged me to continue to write this story that I dedicate this chapter – I hope you enjoy it.
Kat’s hand was bleeding. She had used a spear stabbed in the sand by one of the Moors to free herself. In her excitement and haste to be away – she had also sliced her right palm. She wrapped a purple scarf around her palm to stop the bleeding. She pushed back the flap of the tent and looked outside into the desert. Her heart sank. It was dark and for miles in all directions all she could see was the sand dunes that dominated the desert. Kat flung herself out into the night. She would rather die in the desert than become that fat slob’s whore.
Bashasha had been summoned before the Sheik.
“Any sign of Yasmeen?” Mohammed asked the older woman, his quiet voice belying his simmering anger.
“No, my lord. But she did disappear about the same time Lady Kat went missing. I can’t help but thinking Yasmeen is involved in her disappearance.”
Mohammed nodded. “I agree. Have the riders discovered anything?” He asked after the men who had been sent across the desert to scout for Kat.
“No, my lord. I am sorry, but no word yet has been heard from Lady Kat or her disappearance.”
Mohammed shuddered and lowered his head. “Leave me.”
“Please my lord, let me stay with you.” Bashasha feared for his peace of mind.
“Leave me.” He told her coldly.
****
Kat had no way of knowing that has she stepped away from Fajer and Yasmeen’s evil plans she walked into greater peril as a desert dust storm was just beginning. The dust storms were known to be dangerous and even life threatening. When Kat first set out she thought that it was early morning because of her inability to see very clearly. Then she realized the dust had begun to swirl and twist and though she had heard of them from the harem women – Kat was walking through a dangerous dust storm.
As Kat continued to try and walk through the dust swirling around her – it became impossible. The dust spit into her eyes, her mouth, her hair and her ears. Kat knew she would die out in this desert never to be found. She fell to her knees and then collapsed. Her last thought before she sank into oblivion wasn’t of the green trees of England or the deserts of Arabia – it was the dark sensuous eyes of Mohammed and his mouth as he kissed her.
****
Yasmeen arched her body like a bitch in heat as one of the black moors settled his large muscular body over her delicate one. With no words or preliminaries the black moor thrust her legs apart and shoved his large cock inside her. She had fallen asleep directly after the night’s fun so her cunt was still filled with the Moors sperm and her own juices. The Moor grunted as his cock filled the girl and Yasmeen cried lightly as not to wake the other two men. Secretly she wanted to wake the other two and have a repeat of the night before. The Moor grasped her honey colored thighs hard as he continued to pound into her.
Yasmeen arched as the black cock filled her body and she reached up to touch his chest. Her nipples tightened in response and she squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure.
****
The two teenagers were fighting as they returned to the large main tent in the desert.
“I think she’s dead!” Said the younger Bikr. At twelve years old he was given to exaggerations and enjoyed making scenes to embarrass his mother and father.
“She’s not dead, Bikr. She’s alive and we need to tell father,” spoke the older Saber. Saber was 15 years old and his father’s pride and joy. As Bikr scampered off to find trouble, Saber went to find his father.
Saber and his father Majeed remained seated on their camels as they looked at the half covered form in the sand. She was half buried beneath it and her face was underneath her arm. She looked ragged and both men couldn’t guess how long she had been in the desert.
“A woman from another tribe?” Asked young Saber.
“Could be.” Majeed nodded at his son’s question. There were many Bedouin tribes such as his that wandered the desert. Some were linked by family, others by marriage but rarely did anyone venture into the great desert when a dust storm was upon them – they knew better. And this storm that passed had been going on a few days.
“Why would she go out in such a storm, Father?” Asked Saber.
“Perhaps she was lost.” Majeed dismounted and Saber followed. “We’ll take her to the camp and allow the women to attend her.”
Majeed walked to the form and knelt beside her. When he turned her over in his arms Saber gasped. Majeed looked down at the woman he held and was also shocked. The woman had golden blonde hair that blended into the desert’s sands and her skin was cream colored. Her face was lovely and against his will Majeed could feel himself stir.
He lifted her easily and settled himself and the girl on his camel.
“Come, Saber.”
Rana was charged to look after the young girl. Rana was the first and only wife of the Sheik Majeed. Since Rana had given Majeed two sons and a baby girl – Majeed had never thought to take any more wives. He had only ever wanted sons to help and continue on with his tribal duties when he was dead and Rana had done her duty by providing him sons. Since Majeed was not a sexual man – he was content to rule over his tribe with only one wife. In addition, he knew of many sheiks that had large harems and many wives and the trouble the women caused was not worth the sexual pleasure.
Rana had bathed and given the girl an Abaya to wear. An Abaya was a floor length gown with long sleeves that modestly covered the entire body. As Kat slept she bathed the girl’s forehead with jasmine scented cloths and tried to keep her comfortable.
Rana looked over the girl’s lithe frame with envy. Rana had never been a beauty. She was the youngest daughter of a neighboring sheik and had gown up coddled by her father. Though Rana’s sisters had been beauties, Rana was not. But what Rana lacked in face and form she made up for in sweetness and kindness. She was a devout Muslim, a loving mother and caring wife. When Majeed had been looking to marry those 16 years ago – Rana thought he would certainly pick one of her sisters. But Majeed was not interested in beauty. Majeed had seen how women and beauty could too easily turn a man’s eye and head. Instead he had settled for Rana and had never regretted his choice.
Rana had bathed the girl with the help of her women and all had admired the girl’s face and figure. Her golden hair had been cleaned and pinned back and her oval face had been washed and creamed with almond oil. Rana could not help but think the foreign woman was more beautiful than all of her sisters and any woman she had ever seen. Perhaps it was the uniqueness of her creamy skin and hair but she could not help but wonder what Majeed would think.
Majeed had come into the room quietly. His wife and ladies had gone to tend to the evening meal and Majeed wanted to see the young beauty. She lay asleep on the pillows and blankets inside his wife’s tent. She was dressed modestly in a pink Abaya but Majeed could see her nipples taut and stiff through the material. He knelt beside her as he had done in the desert. His fingers itched to touch her and he couldn’t stop himself.
Majeed was an attractive man in his late 30s. He was tall and muscular with brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a beard which aged him but he was an attractive man never given to impulses until now.
His fingers encircled his nipples and Kat moaned in her sleep. She arched and stretched and Majeed covered her mouth with his. He pulled her to him and Kat awoke in his arms. She moved her face away from his mouth.
“No.” She shook her head and Majeed was dazzled. Her eyes were blue like the Arabian sea and they were wide and innocent.
Kat’s head spinned as she tried to grasp where she was and with whom. Her hands came in touch with his muscular chest and she tried to separate them. She was frightened but as her head continued to spin she murmured, “Help me,” and sank into the pillows and oblivion.
Majeed stared at the sleeping beauty but was distracted by a noise and turned toward it.
“Rana!” Majeed stood up.
Her eyes were accusing and in pain.
“My lord.” Was all she said and exited the tent quickly.
Majeed cursed the beauty. He had been right. Women, especially beautiful ones were only trouble. He looked down at her. A woman of her unusual coloring was obviously not a native Arabian. She must therefore be either a slave, concubine or a foreign visitor. Either way he owed it to his wife and his own sanity to find her rightful place and be rid of her.
He sighed. He would take Saber and a few of his men and visit the neighboring Sheiks to see if anyone knew anything about the pale beauty.
