Ellie pulled her gaze from the intimidating animals to the two Bedouin gentlemen who accompanied them.
They were possibly the most attractive men she had ever seen.
Yusuf was tall and broad, with a luxuriant mustache. Even through the flowing cut of his quftan, he was obviously of an exceptionally robust build. A rifle hung across his back, while a pair of wicked daggers were tucked into either side of his belt. They were at least as long as Adam’s machete but thinner and dangerously curved.
Mustafa, the sheikh’s son, was shorter than his cousin, with the fit grace of a panther. His rich bronze complexion contrasted strikingly with a pair of sharp gray eyes that reminded Ellie of the inescapable focus of a hawk. His haughty, angular features were perfectly accented by an elegantly trimmed beard.
While Yusuf stood with his feet braced and his hands on the hilts of his daggers, Mustafa lounged against a rock with his scimitar at his side, his posture mingling confident repose and a natural authority.
Neither fellow could have been older than Ellie, but they looked fully capable of taking on a small army—should they have deigned to do so.
Ellie did not realize that she had fallen into a line of women gaping at the two cousins until she was startled by the distinct tones of Umm Waseem’s wheezing chuckle.
“Allâhu ‘akhbar,” the older woman commented wickedly before walking on.
“What did she say?” Ellie asked a little distractedly, watching transfixed as Mustafa rose from his rock to gaze out across the desert, the breeze rippling the silk folds of his quftan.
“God is great,” Jemmahor replied with a sigh. “And He really is.”
The younger woman followed the rest of the party, forcing Ellie to hurry after her—though she found herself less than eager to approach the grunting, yawning flock of camels. The sheikh’s caravan admittedly looked majestic with their saddle bells jingling softly in the pale light of imminent sunrise, but Ellie could barely manage a donkey.
The camels looked both larger and significantly less stable than donkeys.
Mustafa called out an order, and with a groan, one of the beasts lowered itself down to sit on the ground.
Zeinab hopped nimbly onto the saddle, folding her legs beneath her with practiced ease.
The Bedouin gave another order, and the camel rose—but not all at once. In a manner that seemed designed to toss one to the ground, first the front half of the animal straightened, tilting the saddle to an alarming angle before the rear end deigned to join in.
Zeinab rode it all out with no apparent trouble.
Umm Waseem set her black satchel on the back of the saddle of her mount. Ellie studied the bag carefully. Would the stout older woman have tossed it up there quite so casually if it were full of explosives?
Ellie’s own camel waited placidly in front of her. She eyed it with unease.
Clearly intent on pressing its advantage, the creature made an even more unsettling noise, then extruded a wet glob of spit, which landed in the sand near her boots.
“Perhaps I can simply walk to Tell al-Amarna,” Ellie offered reasonably as Adam joined her.
“Want a hand up?” Adam offered, eyes twinkling with amusement.
The camel ground its teeth, which were far too close to Ellie’s face. The sound was terrifying.
“I would really rather not go up at all,” Ellie admitted.
“Who’s a beautiful girl?” Adam said warmly.
Ellie realized that he was addressing the remark to the camel. She wondered how he could be sure that the creature was female—until she glanced past it at the beast that Mustafa was riding and noted the presence of an enormous and very obviously male set of accouterments dangling between its legs.
“That’s right, gorgeous,” Adam continued happily. “Now, how about you sit down? Hoosh!”
Yusuf had used the word a minute earlier for Jemmahor’s ride. Adam accompanied it with a tap to the camel’s knee—and with a groan and an awkward lurch, the monster knelt.
Of course, he had already figured out how to wrangle the beasts. Why wouldn’t it take him more than five minutes to do it?
He was Adam Bates.
Adam held out his hand. “This is the part where you climb on, Princess.”