The sun beat down upon Illya's exposed head, and he felt as if he was about to shrivel up and die as he wearily put one boot-clad boot ahead of the other in the burning desert sand. Sheer determination was the only thing keeping him going in the nightmarish scenario in which he now found himself.
I have to find her. The sheik had grabbed her roughly around the waist, then quickly mounted his camel and frisked her away before Illya could even move.
I never should have brought her here. In New York she'd been perfectly safe. But the fresh-faced, wholesome young woman had been enthralled by his stories of adventure and had been eager to accompany him on this assignment, investigating corruption in the oil fields of the Mideast, and Illya himself had thought that an Arabian adventure would be romantic.
After what seemed like an eternity, Illya finally reached a group of tents surrounding an oasis, a refreshing respite from the unforgiving heat. Several camels were tethered near the largest tent.
His heart pounding, Illya furtively glanced around and, seeing no one, stealthily approached the tent and peered in, gasping sharply at what he saw.
There she was, reclining on a zebra-skin rug, her face heavily made up, her body scantily clad.
He whispered her name.
"Illya?" Her voice sounded as if she'd been drugged. Illya's mind pushed his fury aside as he went into flight mode.
"We must hurry!" Quickly he threw a robe over his Western clothing and donned a turban. He helped her to dress similarly, and they dashed out of the tent to the camels. He helped her onto the back of one, then mounted another himself, and they rode away.
He heard a loud commotion behind them, shouting in Arabic, but he didn't dare turn to see who their pursuers were. Not until they'd reached safety did his heartbeat slow its frantic rhythm.
In the safety of the American embassy, he finally shed the Middle Eastern garb, then contacted Napoleon and hurriedly explained what had happened, requesting permission to return to the States.
"Of course you may return," Napoleon told him. "We've just about wrapped everything up here, and besides, it sounds like you've had quite enough adventure as it is. I think, especially considering the circumstances, you're entitled to a little R and R."
Illya made the flight arrangements, and they soon found themselves on a jet headed back to New York.
At last it occurred to him to wonder about what had happened to her in between the time the sheik had kidnapped her and his discovery of her in the tent. He turned apprehensive eyes toward her.
"Did he...?" His mouth wouldn't form the words.
"Oh, no." She smiled. "He was very kind and gentle, very concerned for my comfort."
It was then that he noticed the rings on her fingers and gasped in surprise.
"He gave them to me," she explained.
"We could pawn those and easily buy a very fashionable split-level dwelling," he said dryly. "Unless you would rather keep them."
"Perhaps as a memento of my first, and hopefully last, trip to the Mideast." Relieved, she laughed lightly, and he joined her.