Owen grunted. “Thanks.” He did not sound grateful as he took the ointment.
Rayan focused on Leighton. “The plane comes at first light for the airport.”
While Leighton did not want to be rude, she was also growing weary of his near-aggressive insistence on inserting himself into her awareness and movements. She eyed Owen, wondering if he’d noticed it too. “Yes?—”
“We’re aware,” Owen bit out, then dropped the flap, which thumped softly against the wood. He sniffed and turned, a smile brightening his eyes.
“You look smug or satisfied with yourself.”
He grinned, unrepentant. “Smug works.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “All this time, they only wanted you to be humiliated, possibly punished—the whole one-bed thing is ripe.”
“Stoned,” she corrected with an arched brow. “At least, that’s what Sharia law would demand as punishment for being alone with a man.”
“But that didn’t happen. In fact, you’ve sort of had a biblical Esther moment here where you’re the sought-after one.”
“Esther had the king’s favor.”
Owen held her gaze. “I’m starting to think you do too. That maybe it’s his hand staying any retaliation by Maaz or the others.”
“But he doled it out to me.”
“Couldn’t look weak…” He waved noncommittally. “Anyway, my point is that their motivation was to see you condemned or punished. That hasn’t happened, and now Rayan wants you.”
“What?”
Another sniff. “That’s why I was so ticked out there. Maaz basically told me to stand down, so Rayan could have you.” He chuckled. “And the guy was lit just now, seeing the way you looked to me when he spoke to you. He hates that I’m here with you and he’s not.”
Concern churned through her at his words. “Arousing their anger is not a laughing matter.” Didn’t he understand that Ummi?—
Ummi is safe, she reminded herself.
As she stood there, Leighton grew aware of all these fear reactions that had become second nature to her, like breathing. She had lived and breathed fear. Every response fear-driven. And mercies of heaven, she was so tired of it. But she wasn’t really sure how to live any other way.
Serengeti, Tanzania
The relatively short plane ride to Kogatende Airstrip in Tanzania proved uneventful, even the loading and unloading. Then, once again, they piled into Land Cruisers to reach the final safari migration camp, where they’d spend the next few days on Princess Daria’s pre-wedding adventure.
“This has to be a joke,” complained the princess-bride as they hiked through the brush to the lone tents anchored by a large acacia tree. They explored the first and largest of the tents.
“No more complaining, Daria,” Hassan huffed. “I know you are tired of the heat and bugs, but so are we all.”
“But it barely has more than a bed,” she whined. “Is there even a shower?”
As he neared that tent, Owen noted a shower. He could see it from here. No walls. No curtain. Just a shower head jutting from a panel in the exterior wall.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Leighton murmured as she came alongside him. “Do you think our tent will be like that too?”
“Probably worse.” They’d gotten the short end of the stick at every camp, and he did not expect that to change, especially with suspicion on him.
A shove came at his back. “Keep moving.”
Surprised at the blow that made him stumble a step, Owen glared at the guard behind him. “What the hey, man?”
“Nouri,” someone barked—Maaz. He stood to the front with Rayan and his sister. “You will room with Princess Aliyah at this camp.”
Lips parting, Leighton swung her gaze to Owen. “What about?—”
The same guard who shoved Owen took it upon himself to do the same to Leighton. “Do not argue with the prince!”
