Seduced by His Target. Gail Barrett

the bottles and headed back along the path through the trees.

      But a man blocked her way.

      Amir.

      She abruptly came to a stop. Every muscle in her body tensed. She took in his big, beefy hands, the power in his massive arms, the hatred simmering in his narrowed eyes. And she knew with an absolute certainty that he intended to do her harm.

      He tossed a saddlebag in the path. “Fill up my water bottles now,” he ordered in Jaziirastani.

      A swarm of uneasiness seized her. She did not want to deal with this man. He looked as cruel as her brother, Sultan, a monster who delighted in inflicting pain. And captive or not, she had no intention of being this sadist’s slave. “Forget it.”

      He went dead still. “What did you say?”

      “I said no, I won’t do it. I’m not going to wait on you.”

      His eyes blazed with an odd excitement. He took several quick steps toward her, and adrenaline pumped through her veins. She spun on her heels, and started to run, but he was faster than she’d believed. He grabbed hold of her hair and yanked her backward, sending fiery pain slashing through her scalp. Gasping, she dropped her supplies.

      But she didn’t intend to submit. Calling on all her street skills, she whipped around and lunged toward him, ignoring the sharp pain flaying her head. Then she rammed her knee into his groin with all her might. He bellowed with rage and staggered back.

      But he was still too fast. His huge fist came out of nowhere, slamming into her face. The force lifted her off her feet, and she crashed to the ground, pain exploding behind her eyes. She let out an anguished cry.

      He strode over and kicked her ribs. Agony knifed through her, knocking the breath from her lungs. She curled into a ball and wheezed.

      “Leave her alone.”

      Her jaw throbbed. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. She panted and gasped, trying to inhale around the fire torturing her ribs, and managed to push herself to her knees.

      Rasheed now faced Amir. He stood on the path between them, his legs planted wide, his hands balled into fists. Tension rolled off his powerful frame.

      “Get out of my way,” Amir told him. “This isn’t your business.”

      “The hell it isn’t. I kidnapped this woman. She’s under my protection now.”

      “She’s not your prisoner. She belongs to us all. And she can do our work until we’re done with her.”

      “Not unless I say so. I decide what she can do. And you won’t put a hand on her.”

      Amir’s eyes flared. A blade appeared in his hand, and Nadine’s already ragged breath came to a halt. A knife fight. She’d witnessed one in Oakland once—and once had been enough.

      “You’re challenging me?” Amir’s tone was deadly now.

      “I caught her,” Rasheed repeated. “So I control what she does. The man, too. No one touches them or gives them orders except me.”

      Amir stared at Rasheed, pure loathing in his eyes. Nadine tried to suppress a shudder, but failed. Rasheed had just made an enemy.

      Because of her.

      Neither man moved. Testosterone crackled in the air. Fearing the bloodbath that was about to break out, Nadine began to creep backward, not wanting to get caught in the deadly fight.

      But then Manzoor’s voice barked out from behind the trees. “Where is everyone? Let’s go!”

      Amir’s eyes narrowed. Several heartbeats later, he slid the knife back into its sheath. “We aren’t finished. We’ll deal with the woman later. But be careful, brother. You might not want to close your eyes at night.” He turned on his heel and stalked off.

      Nadine didn’t move. She kept her gaze on the bushes, her heart still galloping through her chest, terrified that he’d come back. But then Rasheed turned around and took her arm, and helped her to her feet.

      “Are you all right?” he asked.

      All right? Her jaw felt cracked. Her ribs burned so badly she could hardly breathe. Even her hair follicles ached. And without warning, tears sprang into her eyes, the horror of the attack beginning to sink in. Mortified by her show of weakness, she hurried to wipe them away.

      But Rasheed stepped close and grasped her chin. His eyes stayed grim, but his hands were surprisingly gentle as he turned her head from side to side to inspect her face.

      “You’re bleeding.” His voice came out gruff. His thumb stroked her bottom lip, the feathery touch quickening her pulse.

      And then his eyes met hers. Her pulse skidded off beat. And for a long moment she gazed into that hypnotic blackness, conscious of his calloused fingers skimming her jaw, the heat radiating from his golden skin, the sheer maleness of him as he towered above her, solid and strong.

      He looked lethal. Almost feral. Every inch the warrior—the kind of man she’d always feared. And yet...standing in his embrace with his big hand cradling her jaw, his wide shoulders sheltering her from the world, she felt completely safe.

      Which didn’t make a whit of sense.

      “I...I’m fine,” she managed to whisper.

      His eyes stayed locked on hers. Something seemed to pass between them, something she couldn’t name. Then he dropped his gaze to her mouth, and for one wild moment, her heart went completely berserk. And a myriad of emotions roiled inside her—relief, gratitude.

      Desire.

      He blinked and lowered his hand. “Come on. We need to go.” He turned and strode through the trees.

      Shaken, she watched him leave. What had just happened? Had he been intending to kiss her? And had she been about to let him? Had she completely lost her mind?

      Stunned at her behavior, she gathered the water bottles from where she’d dropped them and returned to the gurgling stream. She was glad he’d defended her. She couldn’t bear the thought of that creep, Amir, putting his hands on her.

      But why had he done it? He had no reason to come to her aid. Was he merely defending his male pride and claiming her as his property—or something more?

      Thoroughly confused now, she knelt on the bank and splashed cold water on her battered face. She had to proceed with care. Rasheed might have come to her rescue this time, but he was still the one who’d kidnapped her. She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t let herself care about him. She couldn’t fool herself about who—or what—he was.

      And she definitely couldn’t desire him.

      Now she just had to convince her treacherous body of that.

      Chapter 4

      Rasheed rode down the trail a short time later, still incredulous at what he’d done. He’d stupidly challenged Amir. He’d nearly blown his cover and given himself away. He’d jeopardized five years of painstaking work, five years spent laboring in the training camps and insinuating himself into the Rising Light hierarchy to stop these murderous thugs. He’d endangered the success of this critical mission, putting the fate of thousands of innocent civilians in doubt.

      All because of this insane attraction to his captive, a woman he couldn’t trust.

      He shifted in his saddle, trying not to jostle the injured doctor collapsed like deadweight against his back. He eyed Nadira—Nadine, he silently corrected—ahead of him on the trail, her slender shoulders slumped, her slim hips swaying as the mare descended the rocky slope, and knew he’d had no choice. He’d had to intercede. The sight of Amir putting his hands on her had razed his self-control. There’d been no damned way he could stand aside and let him hit her, even on the off chance that it was all a ploy. It went against everything he believed in and who he was.

      The