Seized By The Sheik. Ann Voss Peterson

still someone out there gunning for them. He had to figure out what to do next. And he couldn’t afford to make another mistake. “This ranch of your family’s, how far?”

      “A few miles.”

      “Can we still make it before nightfall?”

      “Maybe. Or just after.” She glanced at Fahad. “We’ll have to take things slow.”

      The sun beat down, hot on his skin. Sweat stung his eyes. He wiped the back of his hand across his brow, realizing too late he had blood up to his elbows. And now, no doubt, all over his face. “You take Fahad on the horse.”

      “And you?”

      “I stay here. Cover you.”

      She shook her head, her hair blowing in the wind and lashing her cheeks like whips. “No. That’s not going to happen.”

      “What, then? We have an injured man, one horse and someone trying to shoot us.” He wished she had another answer, a better answer, but he doubted one existed.

      “You take him. I cover you.”

      “That is not going to happen.”

      “But this shooter, if he’s targeting you—”

      “Targeting me? And what if he is? You’re not law enforcement. I suppose you’re planning to use diplomacy?”

      She stepped to her horse and tapped the stock of her prize rifle for an answer, throwing his earlier gesture back at him.

      “Shooting targets is one thing. Engaging an enemy is another.”

      “You thought I was good enough a few minutes ago.”

      He shook his head. He hated to break it to her, but a few minutes ago, she’d been relatively protected. The riskier job had been climbing up to help Fahad. “I’m sure you’re a fine shot. But this isn’t the same thing.”

      She blew a frustrated breath through pursed lips. “COIN can proceed without me. It will die without you.”

      So that was it. He should have known. The COIN summit was obviously more important to her than her own life. Good thing that wasn’t true for him. “That’s not the way it works, Callie.”

      “Is this some sort of macho thing?”

      “It’s some sort of practical thing. You said your family’s ranch is the closest place to get help. I have no idea how to get there. I can, however, hold a gunman off and catch up with you once I know it’s safe.”

      She pressed her lips into a line, her chin set.

      He didn’t know Callie McGuire very well, but he already knew that look.

      She met his eyes. “We’ll both go. Together.”

      “Then we’ll both get killed. And Fahad will die from his injuries,” he said in a low voice. He glanced at his cousin. Fahad’s breathing was labored, but the slicker looked to have done the trick. For now. But with every second they spent arguing, he was getting weaker and the sun was dipping lower in the western sky. “If you want to keep Nadar in the COIN compact, we need to keep Fahad alive. His death will only give the dissenters in Nadar fuel for their movement.”

      “And your death?”

      “I’m not going to die.”

      She shook her head.

      “Fahad is losing blood with each minute we spend arguing.”

      “Okay, okay. I’ll do this your way.” Her eyes focused on him like blue lasers. “But you have to promise me you’ll catch up. That you’ll be okay.”

      The slight tremble in her voice held a desperation that made his breath hitch, and for a moment, he wanted to believe she was concerned about him, personally, not merely politics and business negotiations, but him as a man.

      “Promise me,” she repeated.

      “I give you my word.”

      She scrambled to her feet. “Then help me get him on the horse.”

      Chapter Three

      This whole thing was wrong. All wrong.

      Callie swung onto Sasha’s back. When she’d ridden out to Rattlesnake Badlands at Prince Stefan’s request, she’d been aiming to talk Efraim into going back to the resort where he’d be safe. Instead, he was risking his life for his cousin’s, for hers. And unless she was willing to let Fahad die, she couldn’t do a damn thing to change it.

      “Fahad,” Efraim said, kneeling next to his cousin. “Can you hear me?”

      Fahad mumbled something Callie couldn’t quite catch. His eyes fluttered and opened. His face twisted in a grimace of pain.

      “I am going to lift you onto the horse. It might get a bit rough. Hang with us, okay?”

      Fahad just kept breathing, in and out, as if anything else was beyond his grasp. It probably was.

      Efraim glanced up at her. “Ready?”

      She wasn’t sure how they were going to pull this off. Fahad couldn’t lie on his back across the saddle. Nor could he drape over it on his belly, letting blood rush to his head. She slipped behind the saddle’s cantle and sat on the stiff, leather skirt. “He’s going to have to sit on the seat. That’s the only way this is going to work.” Even then, she wasn’t sure they could manage.

      Efraim knelt down. Fitting his hands under Fahad’s shoulders and knees, he lifted the man from the ground and climbed to his feet.

      Callie reached down from the saddle, and Efraim hoisted him onto the seat. Callie guided his leg over the saddle until he sat astride. She settled him on the seat and leaned his body back against her. She could feel him groan, the sound shuddering through her body. She steadied him with one hand and held Sasha’s reins with the other.

      “Do you have him?”

      Good question. With a man who had the strength of a rag doll sitting on her lap and her legs dangling at her mare’s flanks, Callie had a challenge ahead of her. She was grateful the horse was Sasha. The palomino mare could read Callie’s shifts of weight almost as if she was reading her mind.

      She looked down at Efraim. The thought of him out facing the man who did this to Fahad chilled her to the core. If only she could do something.

      He had his pistol, but a pistol wasn’t going to do much good unless the shooter was close. Balancing Fahad against her chest, she tapped the stock of her rifle. “Take this.”

      He shook his head. “You’ll need it.”

      “Between balancing Fahad on the saddle and keeping control of Sasha, I don’t have enough hands to use a rifle. Give me your pistol.”

      He unbuckled his holster. Reaching up, he helped her strap it around her waist. She pulled the rifle from its scabbard and handed it to him.

      His hand closed around hers. He lingered for a moment, then took the rifle. “Go.”

      She clucked to Sasha and the horse moved forward. Callie kept her eyes on the horizon in the direction of the Seven M Ranch, resisting the need to look around, to see Efraim taking cover among the hoodoos and cliffs, to watch as he faded into the distance.

      Two gunshots cracked and echoed off the rock.

      Callie kept Sasha moving forward. She knew the shots were likely Efraim drawing attention to himself, trying to let her ride away unnoticed. She forced herself not to think of what might happen next, but her imagination niggled around the edges anyway. Efraim shot… Efraim lying in Rattlesnake Badlands alone while the life drained from his body… Efraim sacrificing himself to make sure she could escape.

      A sob stuck in her throat.

      In all the times she’d spoken to him before today,