The Sheik's Command by Loreth Anne White Read Free Book Online Page A

Hundreds of years of Al Arif rule would be over because of him. Because of a weakness he could not control.
    Suddenly, he felt Nikki’s hand, cool and soft on his forearm. There was something reassuring about her touch, and as he breathed in deeply and his heartbeat calmed he found his vision slowly returning to his right eye.
    But his left remained sightless.
    Zakir realized he was wet with perspiration under his tunic. He glanced around the courtyard with his barely functional eye. Everything appeared to be moving normally—palace staff loading a case of clothes, his soldiers patrolling the turrets…the complete darkness must have lasted a mere nanosecond, but to Zakir it felt like an eternity.
    Feigning anger, he quickly grasped Nikki’s arm and pulled her around the side of the vehicle.
    Nikki stiffened in confusion. “What are you doing—”
    “Quiet,” he growled, waving his bodyguards away as they tried to reposition between him and the Sheik’s Army soldiers.There was a chance the only person who had witnessed him falter was Nikki Hunt. And he had to control the damage.
    Blood thudded in his ears as he tried to focus on her with his right eye, but his central vision in that one was still extremely blurry. And she was scrutinizing his eyes intently, looking into the very heart of his secret. Zakir blinked as another shaft of reflected sunlight glanced off a sword as his guards retreated.
    Her hand touched his forearm again, and she came very close to him. “Are you all right, Zakir?” she whispered, out of earshot of his men.
    “I’m fine.” He glowered at her hand. A female touching him like this in public was inappropriate, a very wrong message to send to his staff, his people.
    She retracted her hand quickly. “I…I’m sorry. You looked like you blacked out for a moment.”
    He cast his eyes down, spoke quietly, angrily. “Before I can let you go, Nikki, there is something you have not explained to my satisfaction. Tell me why the Rahm Berbers did not kill you on sight? What made them trust you?”
    Zakir’s mind raced wildly as he spoke. The vision in his right eye was improving in increments, but his left eye remained blind. This was a terrible shock. This was not supposed to happen for at least another twelve months, according to Tariq. He needed to speak to his brother, find out if there was a treatment to prolong vision loss. But he couldn’t use the palace phones, nor could he consult with a royal physician. The risk of exposure was too great.
    Zakir feared another episode like this could hit at any second, any hour. Any day. And it when it did, the periods of darkness would start coming closer and closer together until one final episode would leave him completely blind, permanently. His mouth turned dry. He could not let that happen, not until he was officially sworn in as king.
    Nikki’s attention was still riveted on Zakir’s eyes. “I am not some kind of spy for the Rahm tribesmen, or for anyone else, Zakir. They let me live for the same reason your soldiers didn’t shoot me in the street. I am a humanitarian worker who—”
    “Nikki,” he said very quietly, feigning complete calm as he desperately tried to bring her features into focus. “Those tribesmen are aggressive—they never ask questions first. They would’ve slit the throat of a strange-looking Tuareg crossing into their territory on sight. Yet they did not. And I want to know the reason.”
    “I encountered an elderly Rahm shepherd in the desert,” she said, still watching his eyes. “He’d fallen, gashed his head on a rock and was unconscious. After reviving him I cleaned and bandaged his wound, gave him the last of our water and we got him up onto my camel. He told me how to take him to his village in the mountains, and we did,” she said. “If I hadn’t come across him, he would’ve died.”
    “So you saved the old man’s life, and in return for the favor the shepherd’s family was willing to protect