Chapter 16
Serengeti, Tanzania
He was losing her. Owen was losing Leighton to these infernal royals and couldn’t do a thing about it. Sequestered from the royal entourage, he was battling an intense sense of failure. Felt the taunting reins of control slipping from his grip.
Arms folded, he stood on the farthest side of the balloon basket, hoping the royals would not look this way and spot him.
But they were all too merry in their drink and laughter to notice him.
Would she come? The whole day had been frustrating.
She’d only looked at him once, and he’d felt that to his core.
A creeping sense of dread swarmed him at what he saw in her eyes.
Not attraction or just a simple smile. Not fear as he’d seen the first time he’d encountered her at Soph’s party.
This time he saw irritation. A flash of it—aimed at him.
That had put him on the knife’s edge. She was his only reason for being here. And if she was ditching him, siding with the royals, why was he even trying?
Those were the lies filling his head. Owen knew he couldn’t let them take root. He had to be strong. Remember that she was up against some pretty slick masters of manipulation who used those around them to get what they wanted.
The entourage had effected a concerted effort to keep him from being anywhere near Leighton.
More than once, guards or Ghalib—that man was like a ghoul, manifesting without warning in the strangest places—intervened to prevent Owen from reaching Leighton.
He’d nearly given up on putting his plan into place when one glorious moment opened up while she’d been waiting for food.
He hadn’t been able to ask if she understood what he’d said.
Or get confirmation that she would come.
That grating Rayan had been headed her way, so Owen had to veer off to avoid being discovered.
What if she hadn’t heard him? What if the princesses commandeered her time again?
And the question that plagued him, haunted—taunted—him…
What if she had changed her mind and decided not to let him get her out of their clutches?
What if the poison the princesses poured into her ear daily had taken root after all?
“Please, we go?” the balloon driver—or whatever they called him—signaled his impatience.
“Wait… Please.” Language barriers were no joke, but hopefully hand signals would convince the guy to give him more time. Owen scanned the area, searching the tents. Eyeing the tables, though he kept his head low to avoid being spotted.
Man. Was she not coming?
Surely the royals hadn’t turned her already. The kiss he’d shared with her… Did it mean the same thing to her as it had to him. She hadn’t really seemed like the type to just go around kissing guys…
Yet she’s not here.
The balloon guy railed at him in his native tongue.
“Please—”
“No, no!” The man started away.
Disappointed, Owen had to concede failure again. It’d been a long shot. But the sting of disappointment bred worry in his chest like maggots on rotten meat. This whole stinkin’ thing was rotten. He hadn’t—
“Hey!” a voice rasped from behind.
At the tickle-grab at his sides, Owen wheeled around, startled to find Leighton laughing and her eyes bright. “Where’d you come from?” His brain jarred at her presence, his entire being resonating that she was here. That she’d come. “Never mind,” he said quietly. “Inside.”
Her eyes went round as pancakes and then she grinned—big. “We’re going up?”
This. This was why he was falling in love with her. That glow in her cheeks as he helped her into the basket. Nodded to the guide, who had already freed the balloon anchors. He turned, flaring the gas that drove heat up into the balloon.
Leighton giggled as she shrank, as if to hide. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Owen breathed a little easier as the distance from the ground grew. “I had to see you, talk to you before we headed back to Jeddah.”
She gave a nervous yelp. “Have I mentioned I’m scared of heights?”
“Uh, that could be a problem, since we’re going high. I’m surprised you came, then.”
She hunched away from the sides. “I had to see you. Two days of torture with Daria and Aliyah.”
“I was worried they’d turned you to the dark side.”
“What?”
“Someone suggested they would turn you against me. I started worrying…”
“After two days?” She wrinkled her nose. “You have so little faith in me?”
“Hey, we haven’t known each other long.”
“Long enough to kiss,” she challenged with a whisper. “You think I do that to every guy I’ve known for all of two weeks?”
“I would hope not, but…doubts were large and loud.”
“Seriously?” Leighton scoffed. “Give me more credit!” She hugged herself and then covered her mouth, looking a bit pale. “This is beautiful…and terrifying!”
He studied her. “You’re…scared?”
“A little,” she conceded.
“I’m sorry.”
“No—it’s wonderful, and I want to enjoy it. Fully. I don’t know how long it will last.”
He had no idea how they’d get out of this tangle. “When we go back to Omnia, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
She sobered. “What do you mean?”
“Maaz knows I’m not who I claimed to be and if he tells Faruq…”
“He’ll kill you.”
“I’m worried more about you.”
“Don’t.” She shivered, the higher altitude chillier. “The princesses…” Her caramel eyes came to him, and she shook her head. “I knew they were trying to turn me against you, but…I know their friendship and favor is fake. They don’t care about me.”
He hated that look of disappointment. “Because they’re idiots.”
She sighed, looking gravely on the billowing plain and wildlife scampering far below.
“I just want this to be over.” With a groan, she rubbed her forehead.
“I was content in my life. Lived with living a lie. Mastered it. I never would’ve broken that vow to protect Ummi.
But then they”—she motioned toward the camp that was steadily shrinking—“rip me out of that life. Why? To kill me?” She groaned, scraping both hands over her face.
“I’m so tired of this. I just want to be a normal person. ”
“Well,” he teased, “that will never happen.”
Her gaze bounced to his, concerned, then she rolled her eyes. “You are adorkable.”
He laughed. “Did you really just say that?”
“Yes.” She seemed petulant, but a smile wiggled through her olive complexion. “You have turned my life upside down, Owen Metcalfe.”
“To be fair,” he said as he settled next to her, forearms resting on the rail of the basket, “they did that. I just…made it a bit messier.”
She reached over and rustled his hair. “Fitting, considering this.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, leaning back to stop her from mussing his hair again. “I’m shaving it.”
Laughing, she shook her head and bumped his shoulder, her expression sobering into something…beautiful, sweet. “I’m really glad you came to rescue me, Owen. Even if it didn’t work.”
RPG to the heart, gutting him. “It’s not over yet.”
She shifted to face him. “We go back tomorrow. And even still, you know they’re going to be furious once we land.”
He groaned. “Yeah…”
“So why did we do this? Why invite me to come up—besides scaring the tar out of me?”
“I had to know…” His mouth was full of rocks, his brain sluggish.
“Know what?”
Holy woof, he felt like a twelve-year-old again. “If…we are okay.”
Her eyebrows lifted and her lips parted. “You—”
“Silly fool,” he huffed. “Yeah, I know.”
She again rustled his hair, but this time, it felt more intimate. Tender. Her hand trailed down the side of his face, lingered on the bruise, and she winced. “I was going to say you had nothing to worry about.”
Somehow, she was in his arms. And Owen crushed her there. Held her tight. “I had to know because I don’t know what will happen in Jeddah. I needed the anchor of knowing you…we…” Holy crud, he just couldn’t say it. Wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say.
Leighton lifted her head and tracked her gaze over his face. “We are, Owen. We are. I can’t explain it—we have known each other a very short time, but it has felt like my whole life.”
His heart surged into his throat. “Then I can face what’s coming. I promise you, no matter what—trust that I’m going to get you out of there.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“I’ve been begging God to help me figure this out, and…I have a plan. Though I doubt you’re going to like it.”
She faltered for a second, but then gave a slow nod. “I don’t have to like it as long as it works. And I won’t lie—God hasn’t exactly given me a stress-free life.”
“Eh,” Owen said with a rueful grunt. “Stress-free is boring and teaches us to trust ourselves. It’s in the deep darkness that we grow the most. God repeatedly told the Israelites He was giving them the Promised Land, but He didn’t just drop it in their laps.
They had to fight for it—violently, bloodily.
” Grim-faced, he held her gaze so she comprehended his resolute determination.
“That’s what I’m willing to do to get you out of their grip. ”
She stared at him for a long second, her eyes shining beneath that promise. “Thank you.” Then she scrunched that pert nose. “But…maybe without the bloodshed.”
“I’ll shed every drop I have if it means you’re free.”
She had no idea if this would work. As the balloon descended toward the landing area on the south side of the camp, Leighton saw the royals moving en masse toward it.
Stomach tight, she told herself not to look to the eastern rise they’d just come up over and mentally rehearsed what Owen had told her to say.
While the sun had set long ago, she did not need light to see the scowl digging into Maaz’s face as the basket lowered to the ground.
The pilot tossed off a rope to another worker who anchored them, slowly drawing them to settle on the ground. Quickly, he flung open the small gate for her.