Free Hostage of the Hawk by Sandra Marton Page A

Chinese who kept their women in servitude by making it impossible for them to walk very far, Joanna. My people expect their women to stride as well as a man.’ He grinned down at her. ‘If you were to sprain your ankle, how would you tend the goats and chickens tomorrow?’
    Goats? Chickens? Was he serious?
    â€˜I won’t be here tomorrow,’ she said curtly.
    â€˜You will be here as long as I want you here,’ he said, and stepped from the plane.
    A full-throated cheer went up from Khalil’s assembled warriors when they saw him. They edged their horses forward, their flaming torches held high. He stood still for a moment, smiling and accepting their welcome, and then one of the men looked at her and said something that made the others laugh. Khalil laughed, too, and then he began to speak.
    Joanna knew he must be talking about her. His arms tightened around her and he held her out just a little, as if she were a display. The faces of his men snapped towards her and a few of them chuckled.
    â€˜Damn you,’ she hissed, ‘what are you saying about me?’
    Khalil looked down at her. ‘Hammad asked why I’d brought home such a lumpy package.’ His teeth flashed in a quick grin. ‘I suggested he remember the old saying about never judging a horse by the saddle blanket that covers it.’
    Her face pinkened. ‘It’s a book one isn’t supposed to judge in my country,’ she said frigidly. ‘And I would remind you that I am neither.’
    His smile fled, and his face took on that stony determination she’d already come to know too well.
    â€˜No,’ he said grimly, ‘you are not. What you are is a guarantee that I will get what I want from Sam Bennett.’
    So. It was ransom he wanted, after all. Despite all his cryptic word-games, it was money he would trade her for.
    One of his men moved forward, leading a huge black stallion that tossed its head and whickered softly. Khalil lifted Joanna on to its back, then mounted behind her. She stiffened as his arms went around her.
    â€˜Yet another indignity you must suffer,’ he said, his voice low, his breath warm against her ear as he gathered the reins into his hands. ‘But only for a little while, Joanna. Soon, we will be at my home, and neither of us will have to tolerate the sight and touch of the other until morning.’
    He murmured something to the horse. It pricked its ears and it began moving forward, its steps high and almost delicate. Khalil spoke again, and the animal began moving faster, until it seemed to be racing across the plateau with the wind. Khalil’s arms tightened around her; there was no choice but to lean back and let his hard body support hers as they galloped into the night.
    How long would it take to get his ransom demand to her father? And how long after that for the money to reach here?
    Khalil’s arm brushed lightly, impersonally, across her breast as he urged the horse on.
    Not too long, she thought. Please, let it not take too long.
    It couldn’t possibly.
    Her father would want her back, and quickly, no matter how outrageous the Prince’s demands.
    * * *
    She had assumed the torchlight greeting had been ceremonial. It had been handsome, she’d thought grudgingly, even impressive, but a man who owned a private plane would not also be a man who travelled his country on the back of a horse.
    But an hour or more of riding had changed Joanna’s mind. There was nothing ceremonial about riding a horse in terrain such as this, she thought, wincing a little as she shifted her bottom and tried to find a spot that hadn’t already become sensitised to the jouncing and bouncing of the saddle. The plane had landed on a plateau, but from what she’d seen so far that had probably been the only flat space in a hundred miles.
    Ever since, they’d been climbing into the mountains, although calling these massive, rocky outcroppings