A Summer Smile

  "But you can't carry me all that distance," she protested. "Let me try to walk."

  He gave her derriere a little slap. "Hush! I can do anything I damn well want to do. It's my decision, and we've already agreed that I'm not a team player. If I let you walk, that poison is going to pour into your bloodstream. Now, be quiet and think good thoughts. That's as far as you're going to be allowed to participate in this little project."

  "I think we're going to need all the good thoughts we can beg, borrow, or steal," Zilah murmured hazily. "And even that may not be enough."

  "It will be enough." Daniel's voice was grim. "I'll make damn sure it's enough."

  "I hope that you ..." Whatever she had been about to say drifted away as consciousness fled.

  Turquoise eyes. They shone cool and glittering in the dark hard face of the stranger. Cool. Zilah's gaze clung to them with desperation. The world was on fire but here was coolness. His voice was cool as well and tinged with dry amusement. "Really, Daniel, I realize the woman is ill but did you have to react so violently? My overseer objected most volubly to being shot at."

  "I wasn't shooting at him," Daniel said grimly. She was being carried down an interminably long hall of mosaic tile, passing white-fretted windows whose intermittent glare hurt her eyes. "He wouldn't have been able to object at all if I had been. I just shat­tered the exterior mirror on his jeep. The stupid bas­tard wasn't going to stop when I hailed him down."

  "Well, you must admit you do look a bit of a wildman at the moment. Abdul isn't the most coura­geous man under the best of circumstances. He prob­ably thought you were a bandit."

  "Bandits aren't usually wandering around the countryside burdened with an unconscious woman." Daniel growled. "The man is a fool."

  "Perhaps," the man with the turquoise eyes drawled. "But he's an excellent overseer. One can't have everything."

  "Don't try to give me that bull, Philip," Daniel said. "You know damn wejl that you'll have every­thing your own way or blow up the whole world trying."

  "I do find life far more convenient that way." Zilah saw again the flint of those turquoise eyes as he glanced down at her dispassionately. "Your Miss Dabala seems quite ill. Was she shot in the escape?" "Scorpion sting," Daniel said tersely. "She's been in intense pain and drifting in and out of conscious­ness for the last few hours. She's burning up with fever. As soon as I can get her to bed I want a doctor to see her."

  "I've already sent for him. I told Raoul to phone for Dr. Madchen when he informed me that you'd roared into my courtyard with an unconscious woman in the jeep. He should be here shortly."

  "She'll need antivenom."

  "We keep some here in the first aid room. I'll have Raoul check to be sure it's still fresh. If not, I'll send a courier to pick up some at Dr. Madchen's dispen­sary."

  "Good." She was being placed on a bed whose cool, silken sheets felt like a blessed balm to her hot flesh. Daniel's eyes were narrowed in concern on her face. "Hold on, Zilah, we've almost got it made."

  Zilah tried to smile but it hurt too much. Everything hurt too much. She closed her eyes wearily to block out the light that was burning her eyes. She heard Daniel mutter something violent beneath his

  breath. She paid no attention to it. She had gotten accustomed to that fierce murmur beneath her ear in the last few hours. Now it brought only a feeling of comfort and protection like the growl of a grizzly to her cub.

  "You called her Miss Dabala and mentioned the escape," Daniel was saying somewhere above her head in the darkness. "Who told you about Zilah?"

  "Your old friend Clancy Donahue became con­cerned when you failed to contact him last night as arranged. He flew in to be on the spot in case you needed him. He filled me in on the details of your little adventure. It sounded quite entertaining. Just the sort of thing that would amuse you."

  "Oh, yes, very amusing," Daniel said caustically. "Next time I must remember to invite you along for the ride." She felt Daniel's hands unbuttoning the collar of her shirt. Strange that she recognized that touch even with her eyes closed. "Where the hell is that doctor?"

  "Patience isn't one of your major virtues, Daniel. It's been less than ten minutes since I called him."

  "And it's been over two hours since the scorpion stung her. She should have had an antidote at once." "The doctor's right behind me. I ran into him in the foyer." It was a new voice, deep, authoritative, and vaguely familiar. "He stopped to place a phone call to Karim Ben Raschid's palace to check on her medical history with Zilah's mother when I informed them her records would be there. How is she? I told you to get her out, not get her shot, Daniel."

  "Dammit, Clancy, I did get her out," Daniel said harshly. "It was a scorpion, not a bullet. Nov/, get that doctor in here, or I'll do it myself with a hell of a lot less diplomacy."

  Clancy. It must be Clancy Donahue. He had been very kind to her in the past and she wanted to open her eyes and greet him. Yet when she did she could

  make out only three surreal figures standing before her. Dark, looming, and somehow menacing. Some­thing stirred deep in her memory and started panic coursing wildly through her. Why had she thought she was safe? She was never safe. She would never be safe from them. "Daniel! Daniel!"

  One of the shadows bent swiftly. "It's all right, Zilah. I'm here."

  "No! Don't touch me. Please don't touch me." Suddenly an agonizing new pain struck her and she clutched at her stomach with a moan.

  "What the devil?" The man had Daniel's voice but how did she know they weren't deceiving her again? It had happened before. "What's wrong with her?"

  "I would say the venom is causing severe stom­ach cramps." Another voice, this one with a slight German accent. "It's not unusual." This shadow was shorter, with a silhouette that was almost rotund. Your servant informed me that it's a scorpion sting on her right ankle?"

  "Don't just stand there looking at her as if she's some kind of bug under a microscope. Get rid of that blasted pain!"

  He sounded so concerned. But then, they were always like that, so sleek and smooth, with their soft, mocking voices. She mustn't be fooled into thinking them friends. They didn't care about her pain. It was a weapon they used to make her do what they wanted.

  The man with the German accent shrugged. "I was going to give her the antivenom serum first, but it doesn't matter." He was gone from her vision for a moment and when he returned he was much closer and there was something in his hand. The needle, shining and deadly and evil. The needle!

  She screamed.

  She scrambled to her knees. Dear heaven, she was so weak. They must have given her something before that she didn't remember. Sometimes she didn't remember. She could feel the headboard press­ing into her back as she cowered like an animal. "No! I don't want it. Please!"

  "Zilah, for God's sake. It's only morphine," the man who was pretending to be Daniel said. "It will take away the pain."

  She shook her head wildly. "No shots! I won't let you. It's bad. It's all bad. You're going to let them hurt me again."

  "Oh, my God," Clancy breathed. "My God!"

  But it wasn't Clancy. She had to remember that. He was one of them.

  "Is that all you've got to say?" Daniel's voice was shaking. "I can't take this. Why the hell is she so frightened of us?"

  "She's remembering that other time," Clancy answered hoarsely. "And I'm not standing up so well under it myself."

  "You will have to hold her," Dr. Madchen said briskly. "She's delirious and will fight the needle. I might hurt her."

  "I'll hold her." Turquoise eyes. "Daniel, you hold her other arm."

  They closed on her with lightning swiftness and she was helpless. She struggled wildly, panting with fear. "No, don't hurt me. I won't do it. Let me go." The tears were pouring down her cheeks. "Why are you doing this to me? I want to go home."

  "Shh. It's all right." Daniel's voice was broken. "No one's going to hurt you. Will you give her the shot, dammit?"

  The familiar hot pain in he
r arm. It was happen­ing again. Despair welled up in her. She stopped struggling. Then the needle was gone and she felt the soft, swooping mist begin to enfold her. The tears

  continued to rain down her cheeks and she made no attempt to halt them.

  Daniel's expression clearly revealed his agonized concern for her. How had they managed to find some­one who looked so much like Daniel? For it couldn't have been Daniel. He wouldn't have betrayed her like this. He was easing her stiff body into a reclining position on the bed and releasing her arms. He knew she wouldn't be able to fight him now. They always knew.

  "Please. Stop crying. It's tearing me apart."

  She shook her head slowly. She closed her eyes so that she could no longer see the face of betrayal. "I just want to go home," she whispered. "Please let me go home."

  Her breathing became deep and even. "She's unconscious," Dr. Madchen said. "I'll give her the serum now." He raised a brow at Daniel. "With your permission."

  Daniel nodded jerkily. "Give it to her. Is she going to be all right?"

  "You've scarcely given me a chance to examine her," Dr. Madchen said caustically as he prepared the syringe. "How would I know?"

  Daniel took a step closer, his hand flashing out and closing on the man's throat. "I'm not in the mood for sarcasm at the moment," he said with menacing softness. "I'll ask you again. Is she going to be all right?"

  Dr. Madchen s lips tightened. "I see no-reason why she shouldn't. There are very few deaths these days from scorpion stings. She should be a bit weak for a few days. However, ifl'm allowed to treat her, she should recover in a short time."

  Philip El Kabbar was frowning. "Let him go, Dan­iel. I apologize, Dr. Madchen. Daniel is terribly upset at the moment." His blue-green eyes were suddenly

  twinkling. "Though I suppose you should be grateful he didn't shoot at you as he did at Abdul. He has a tendency to become a bit violent on occasion."

  Daniel's hand slowly released the doctor's throat. He stepped back. "You might keep that in mind while you're taking care of her. I want her well." His eyes were blazing fiercely in his white face. "Do you hear me? I want her well."

  "Then leave the room and let me do my job." Dr. Madchen turned away. "I would appreciate it if you would get this man out of my way. Sheikh El Kabbar. I don't work well under intimidation."

  "Daniel." Clancy's tone was surprisingly gentle. "Come on. You need a drink. She'll be better off with­out you prowling around getting in the doctor's way." His lips curved in a slightly rueful smile. "I think I could use one myself. I wasn't expecting this to be quite so grueling."

  "Grueling." Daniel's nostrils flared. "Hell yes, it was grueling. I feel as if I've been put through a meat grinder. Why the hell would she react like that? She should know that I would never hurt her." His hands clenched at his sides. "My God, she should know that."

  "She was delirious," Philip said. "Surely that was reason enough."

  Daniel shook his head. "There's more to it than that." His gaze narrowed on Clancy. "And I think you know what was going on in her head all that time."

  "I'm afraid I do," Clancy said wearily. "I wish to God I didn't. It makes me a little sick."

  Daniel turned away abruptly. "We need to talk, he said tersely. "I think a drink would be an excellent idea." He was striding toward the door. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Philip?"

  Philip El Kabbar shook his head. "I'll join you later." His sudden smile lent a rare warmth to his

  dark, cynical face. "I'll watch over your little charge, Daniel. I won't permit anything to happen to her."

  "I know you won't," Daniel said gruffly. "We'll be in the study."

  Clancy's lips pursed in a low whistle as he strolled beside Daniel down the hall. "I never thought I'd see a ferocious panther like El Kabbar meekly playing nursemaid."

  "I've heard the big cats make magnificent guardi­ans for their young," Daniel said. "And Philip isn't all panther. He's been a good friend to me."

  "Like to like," Clancy suggested dryly. "Neither one of you can be termed exactly tame."

  "And neither can you." Daniel threw open the intricately carved double doors of the study. "Or you wouldn't be in the business you're in. You ought to understand Philip very well."

  Clancy shrugged as he watched Daniel cross the room to the small cellarette, his dusty boots sinking into the exquisite Persian carpet. "I understand that side of him well enough. I'm just a little wary of all that power he wields. He Could be a very dangerous enemy for Alex to have to deal with if he chose to exert it."

  "He won't choose," Daniel said. "As long as Alex doesn't interfere with Philip's territorial rights, he has nothing to worry about." He reached for the cut glass decanter in the cellarette. "Bourbon?"

  Clancy nodded. "He wasn't pleased to see me last night. He was even less pleased when I told him about our mission. You're right. He's very protective of those he cares about. I'll have to remember that."

  "That's right, file it away in the computer bank call a memory." Daniel had poured his own brandy and was coming back to stand before Clancy. He handed him the bourbon. "And while you're at it,

  e a note that there's no way I'll let you use me to hurt him, Clancy." His gaze met Clancy's steadily. "I let you use me this time, but not again." He took a long swallow of his brandy. "Have you heard anything of Hassan and his boys?"

  "No sign of them yet." Clancy frowned. "Did you have to blow up the plane?"

  "It was the simplest way to get them to follow me into Sedikhan."

  "And did they?"

  Daniel nodded grimly. "I made sure they'd be mad enough to follow us to hell and back. They'll sur­face soon. You can bet on it. You just be on the spot to grab them when they do. I don't want them to get near Zilah again. That's why I chose Philip's com­pound rather than my own—his security is far better than mine."

  "How did you manage to—"

  "I'll give you a full report later," Daniel inter­rupted. "Right now, I want some answers myself." He gestured to the high-backed leather chair in front of the Sheraton desk. "You might as well make yourself comfortable. You're not leaving here until I find out what you know."

  "Why don't you sit down yourself," Clancy sug­gested as he dropped down into the chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. "You look like you need a bed not a chair. Was it a rough caper?"

  "We've both been through worse." Daniel made a face as he looked down at his dust-grimed khakis and the sweat-darkened undershirt clinging to his chest. "And I don't think Philip would appreciate my lolling in his antique chairs in my present condition." He half sat, half leaned against the edge of the desk. "I can rest later. Talk to me."

  "Zilah?"

  "Who else?" Daniel's hand tightened on his glass. "You know why she looked at me as if I were her executioner."

  Clancy lowered his gaze to the amber 1iquid in his glass. "I told you I wasn't at liberty to discuss Zilah with strangers. David would have my head in a handbasket if I did."

  "Dammit, I'm not a stranger," Daniel burst with savage violence. "Can't you see that I need to know?"

  "Yes, I think I can see that," Clancy said thought­fully. "Experiences like what the two of you have shared together have a way of melding two people together, but it's something more than that, isn't it?" Daniel inhaled raggedly. "It's something more," he said tightly. "I'm not asking to know anything about her relationship with Bradford. I just need to know what made her look at me the way she did." The pain of that moment was still like a raw wound within him. It had been doubled because he had felt the pain and despair in Zilah as if it were his own.

  "But her relationship with David is part of what you saw in that bedroom this morning. You can't sep­arate the two." Clancy shook his head. "You're not going to like it. It's not going to be comfortable to live with. Not if you care for her." "Tell me."

  "When she was thirteen years old Zilah was living with her grandmother in Marasef while her mother acted as housekeeper for Karim Ben Raschid
. She was a bright, pretty little girl, always bubbling with enthusiasm and laughter. One day she disappeared. She just never came home from school. Her mother was frantic. She went to the police, searched the streets herself, and did everything she could think of doing. Then she asked David Bradford to help. Six months had passed by that time and the trail was cold, but he and Alex finally located her." He paused.

  "She was in a bordello called the House of the Yellow Door. She had been taken by a vice ring that special­ized in kidnapping young girls, drugging them with heroin until they were hopelessly addicted, and using them as prostitutes." He ignored the exclamation Daniel made. "I don't have to tell you what kind of shape she was in when David brought her back to Zalandan. It took her almost eight months to lick the heroin addiction." His lips curved in a bitter smile. "After that there was only the psychological damage of the experience itself to contend with. A real piece of cake."

  "Thirteen," Daniel said jerkily. "She was just a child." He covered his eyes with his hand. "My God, I feel sick."

  "David sent her to live with his parents in Texas and she hasn't been back to Sedikhan until now. She's been under psychiatric care all these years and has made a remarkable recovery." He frowned. "But judging from what I saw today, it obviously wasn't a total recovery."

  "How the hell could it be?" Daniel's voice was muffled. "I don't know how she even survived it."

  "She survived it because she's an exceptionally strong personality," Clancy said. "It was her choice to come back to Sedikhan for this visit. She thought she could handle it."

  "She thinks she can handle everything in the whole damn world."

  "Does she?" A slight smile touched Clancy's lips. "That's good to know." He took a sip of his bourbon. "So there's the story. Is there anything else you want to know?"

  "Just one thing." Daniel's hand dropped from his face, revealing eyes that were cold as death. "Did you get rid of them?"

  Clancy nodded. "The vice ring was smashed and the head of it was taken care of in a very permanent manner."