Relieved when silence fell on the vehicle en route back to the reserve, she watched the bustling city vanish beyond the windows. Prayed this story they’d given him would not only be delivered to the crown prince but believed.
She heard another grunt from Owen and glanced at him. “You okay?” Only as she studied him did her mind suddenly, vibrantly return to that terrible attack. She’d never forget watching him throw himself into the fray to protect her. This time—straight at an angry lion. When he’d fallen off the monument and landed beneath the great beast, she just knew he was dead. Or would be soon. But this man, this warrior, was as wild and untamed as the cat he’d fought.
He lolled his head in her direction, winked, then closed his eyes again.
Admiration stirred in her chest. How had she ever deserved to have a man like him in her life? Her stomach rumbled—loudly. The kebabs had been a nice appetizer but not enough to miss their only full meal.
“Me too,” Owen murmured.
“We missed dinner.”
“Yeah.” He swiped a hand over his mouth, then grimaced. He had five stitches along his jaw and six more on his neck. “Hey, uh, Mugo?”
The driver glanced back at them, his eyes likely begging them not to rat him out.
“At camp, is there a way to get something eat?”
“Sure, sure,” Mugo said eagerly. “Anything you want, Mugo get.”
When they drove up the long road to the tents a half hour later, Leighton spotted Rayan and Maaz walking toward the Cruiser. “Oh no.”
Owen’s hand covered hers and he squeezed.
It was comforting—but not as much as she needed facing these two. Her heart sank, unplugging the dread that she had managed to bury while with Apollo at the clinic.
“Let me handle it,” Apollo said, grim-faced as they climbed out. And he made a really good show of being in pain—or maybe it wasn’t a show.
Maaz considered them both. “Apollo, you are well?”
Owen maneuvered to put himself between her and the princes. “Not even hardly. Guide abandons us on the road, I get mauled by a lion, take thirty-something stitches, then have to fight off thugs who wanted to ransom Nouri.”
With a sharp intake of breath, Rayan stalked to her. “You are hurt!” He was reaching for the seared path left by the bullet.
“I am okay. Really, your concern should be for O—uh, Apollo.” Pulse jackhammering at using his given name—deemed inappropriate here—she worked up a smile. “The doctor did not even get to finish stitching him before the men tried to kidnap me.”
“We found them in an alley,” Ghalib said. “Running.”
Owen gave the guy a glower. “Not sure I like your tone—yeah, we were running—you were shooting at us!”
Maaz snapped a fierce look at the man.
“They were with two other men.”
“Kidnappers!” Owen snapped, then drew in a ragged breath and braced himself.
Was he in real pain? Or was he acting to give the story more weight?
“Wasn’t like we could get far,” Owen continued, leaning against the Cruiser. “Still too weak.”
“But you stopped them from taking her,” Rayan said in a tone that almost conveyed respect.
“Or was helping them,” Ghalib suggested.
Leighton gasped. “No! That is not?—”
“Enough.” Rayan lifted a hand, his expression tender as he again considered the welt on her cheek. “Perhaps Mr. Apollo should rest. Nouri can come with me?—”
“Negative,” Owen spoke up, much to her relief. “We’re both starved since we missed dinner. Mugo said we could get some food, so that is our pl?—”
