She looked up at Rashid, confusion showing on her face.
"But why?"
"Well it seems the other man, the man you remember, owed my uncle a lot of money, and Abdulah convinced him to kidnap you in exchange for his I.O.U.'s. I only learned of this deal after it had already transpired, so was unable to prevent it from happening."
"But that still doesn't explain why he would want to kidnap me. My family has no money. They can't pay a ransom."
"Well, no, the plan was not to hold you for ransom ..."
"What then?" she asked innocently.
"You see, there are men, rich men who would be willing to pay for the, ... er, ... companionship of a beautiful woman, even if she were not a willing participant, in fact, especially if she were unwilling. Unfortunately, even in this day and age, there are the secret slave auctions where men of great wealth can purchase women, or men for that matter, if that is where their preference lies."
Sara's jaw dropped and her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. It couldn't be true. White slavery? The panic that she had fought so hard to control came bubbling to the surface as she began to laugh, softly at first, then harder and harder until she couldn't stop.
Rashid grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her until the hysterical laughter turned to sobs, and then he held her close, giving comfort.
"There, there. Do not cry. You are safe here, little bird. That will not happen to you now. I will protect you."
She pulled away from him and asked through sobs, "Safe? Then how come I don't feel safe. I don't know you. I want to go home. When can I go home?"
Rashid shifted his gaze away from her pleading eyes. "That is not an easy question to answer, I'm afraid. You see, there are some problems ..."
"Problems! The only problem I can see is that I'm in some Godforsaken little Arab country when I should be at home, in Vermont, with my family! My God! ... they must be frantic ... and David ..." Her face paled as she thought of her loved ones, and what they must be going through.
"David is your ... husband?"
Sara shook her head and answered numbly, "No, I'm divorced."
"From David?"
Sara waved her hand impatiently, "No, no. I'm divorced from Bob, David is my friend."
Jealousy pricked irrationally at Rashid, and he persisted. "... or your lover." It was a statement rather than a question.