The Sheikh's Little Wife.

CHAPTER TEN

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"You look bothered, your Highness. What's the matter?"

Tobias glared at Xavier, his commander-in-chief, as the chopper whizzed over the desert the next morning.

They'd come from the crash site of the aircraft that had been transporting the journalist, the said person had been reported to be in a nearby settlement, alive.

"We've lost men. Should I feel otherwise?"

"I'm aware of that, and our souls are forever in debt of their lives. But as I said, there's nothing we could have done."

Tobias grunted in displeasure. There could have been a lot to be done, but the news had reached them too late. What bothered him, irritated him even, was that the little journalist was still kicking while his men were down.

Not that he'd wished her death, but it seemed every time he was close to never seeing her again, she came right back.

"Do you have any idea who could have wanted my men dead?" Tobias said.

"I should be asking you that question. Although I have a feeling it's incorrectly stated. Both of us know that missile was meant for someone else, not your men. And the look on your face says that's what is bothering you."

Of course he knew, but if he acknowledged it, he'd hate the fiery-haired woman for eternity. He wasn't even sure if he'd control himself once he'd see her.

This was all her fault. She should have stayed where she'd come from.

As the aircraft landed, Tobias glanced out through the window. He knew this settlement.

They were a group of desert healers that had restored the wounded bodies of some of his severely injured men over the years.

And though their practices had always made him nervous, he was forever grateful for their kindness.

A dark-skinned young man in thick robes approached them as they got off the chopper. "She's this way," he said in plain Arabic.

Several thickly dressed natives bowed their heads in his direction, having recognized the handsome sheikh.

"Don't tell me you've got admirers here as well. You already have three beautiful wives, what more do you need?" Xavier complained as they passed a trio of giggling young women.

"I'm not looking for a fourth wife, Xavier. Having the first one was hard enough."

Xavier chuckled. "Ungrateful bastard. One day the most beautiful woman on the planet will fall for this beautiful scarred face, and I'll keep her all to myself."

The long-haired man beside him for sure had the scars of battle lining his face, but his reputation as a ladies man proved it didn't affect his confidence.

When they stopped in front of a tall, tattered, brown tent, a familiar face emerged from it.

"Your Highness, I believe my messenger reached the kingdom successfully. I'm sorry for your loss," said Banjul, the tribe's chieftess.

The plump large-breasted woman had never bowed to him before, and though he'd be damned if he ever admitted it to anyone, she always intimidated him in weird ways. She was much too perceptive.