The Cobra & the Concubine (Khamsin Warriors of the Wind) Read Online Free PDF Page A

sheikh’s guardian and best friend, had surrendered his bachelorhood. He’d married and changed his name to Ramses according to guardian tradition. Now he was expecting twins with his wife, Katherine.
    A patient man, Khepri had waited five years for Badra. He could wait longer, if necessary. But he hoped that after a little gentle coaxing tonight, she would say yes.
     

     
    Badra sat beneath a sprawling acacia tree and sketched Elizabeth, who was nursing her son. A book lay nearby. It had arrived in a shipment from Katherine’s father, Lord Smithfield. The man, a wealthy English noble, wanted to help Elizabeth teach the tribe’s children. Thanks to the sheikh’s wife’s work, many of his tribe were literate in Arabic, and some, like Badra, in both Arabic and English.
    "Stop sketching. Time for your lesson. Read to me in English," Elizabeth instructed.
    Somewhat haltingly, Badra read. Elizabeth finished feeding baby Tarik and listened. Approaching footsteps drew their attention.
    Jabari and Khepri. The sheikh crouched down, took the baby from his wife. Expertly he put the boy over his shoulder. Badra melted as Jabari cooed to his son. Khepri’s blue eyes searched hers as the sheikh handed the baby back.
    "He is a fine, strong boy, Jabari. Perhaps one day I, too, shall have a son," he commented, his gaze never leaving Badra’s.
    A hollow ache settled in her chest. As much as her heart longed for marriage to Khepri, she couldn’t make babies with him. The only lullaby she would sing remained with her dead daughter. Though Jabari’s gentle manner had slowly healed her wounded spirit, and Khepri’s protectiveness made her feel safe and cherished, physical intimacy with men was still the last thing she wanted.
    The men moved off, talking quietly. Tarik grabbed a fistful of golden hair spilling from his mother’s blue scarf. Badra stared. "Elizabeth, what is it like when you make babies with a man you love?" Her cheeks flamed. But she had to know.
    Her friend’s expression grew soft. "It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world. There’s a closeness of the spirit you share as well as the ecstasy."
    Ecstasy? Perhaps marriage and babies with her falcon guard were not such foolish, idle dreams. She read until she again heard the tread of male footsteps. Jabari stood over her, looking at his wife.
    "Elizabeth," he said, and his voice was husky.
    A sparkle lit the woman’s eyes. Standing, she asked Badra to watch Tarik. Taking her husband’s outstretched hand, she let him lead her into their tent and rolled the flaps down.
    Badra looked at the black tent. Elizabeth had confided they’d decided to give Tarik a sibling. The sheikh was quite determined to perform his duty.
    Deeply curious, slightly ashamed, Badra went and asked Tarik’s delighted great-aunt to watch the boy. Then she casually strolled around the sheikh’s tent to the back, drawn by the low groans and soft cries inside. Elizabeth suddenly screamed. Badra stiffened. Then she realized the cry had been one of pleasure.
    A distant memory returned. She was seventeen, living in a heavily guarded building in the village of Amarna. Jabari had moved her and Farah there to keep them safe during the war between the tribes. Each time she went anywhere, Khepri accompanied her. But this day, he had been freed of his duties. A warrior named Ali had escorted her to the market.
    They’d passed Najla’s house. In the marketplace, Khepri had flirted with the young widow, newly arrived in the village. Walking past the women’s abode, sudden intuition flashed. Badra asked Ali to retrieve the wool she’d forgotten. He hesitated, but she assured him she’d be safe.
    When he left, Badra crept around the side of Najla’s house. She heard Khepri’s deep murmurs and a woman’s soft replies, and peered through a latticed window.
    The room was a bedchamber with lavish furnishings and thick carpets. But it was the bed and its occupants that drew Badra’s attention. Khepri