One Desert Night

by Maggie Cox

  'Why should the tale of that cursed legend even be amongst your notes when I have already told you I will have none of it?'

  Hearts pounded a lot in romance novels, and now Gina knew why. She released the painful breath she'd been holding and nervously smoothed her hand down the side of her dress. 'In my search to establish the truth about an artefact I would hardly ignore anything that came up time and time again in the research—however unimportant or inconvenient a client regards it to be. My father taught me to fearlessly examine everything.' She unconsciously jutted her chin.

  The man in front of her sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. 'Your father?'

  'He's a professor of antiquites and ancient history back home.'

  'Ah, yes… The man you deemed more important than coming back to me.'

  'He's my only remaining family,' Gina said miserably. 'He needed my support.'

  Zahir's hot temper dissipated as abruptly as sometimes a sandstorm in the desert came to an end. How was a man with healthy red blood coursing through his veins supposed to ignore the tempting vision before him and resist? Especially when the vision was all glittering blue eyes, flushed cheeks and quivering coral-glazed lips—the lower slightly fuller than the upper, and so divinely shaped that they would drive a sane man mad?

  'When it comes to his work he's very diligent and—and…' the big blue eyes were staring at him as though transfixed '…thorough. He doesn't leave any stone unturned.'

  The space between them seemed to thrum with electricity.

  'Is that so?' Zahir responded softly.

  Before Gina had a chance to answer him, his mouth claimed hers. His possession was clumsy and rough at first, because of his desperation to taste her again, but then he pulled her to him, and her slim body sagged against his, so that he felt every undulating curve and dip, then he kissed her more slowly and seductively. Kissed her and sampled her intoxicatingly addictive flavours until the heat in his blood consumed him like an inferno—until he wished he had the power to make the rest of the world go away, simply to forget about affairs of state, and the threatening insurgence in a local mountain region that would command the rest of his day, and take her to bed. And when he got her in his bed he would ravish and pleasure her until she was quivering in his hands…until she wept and swore she wanted only him—that any other man she had ever known since they met was erased from her mind and heart for ever.

  His hands were in her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp, when he finally raised his head to look down at her. Aware that he was breathing hard, he smiled unabashed. 'You taste even more delectable than I remember. I had not foreseen the end of our meeting finishing like this, Gina, but I suppose after what happened between us the first time we met it was inevitable.'

  She tried to prise herself free from his arms, but Zahir was having none of it. Right then he didn't even care if Jamal or one of the other servants walked in and saw him. They had sworn their fealty to him at his coronation, and no tittle-tattle would leave the palace he was certain of that.

  'Let me go, please! We can't—we shouldn't—'

  'There is nothing to fear. There will be no stain of the dishonour on you should we be seen together, Gina. It is my palace, remember? I am the law-maker in this kingdom.'

  'I'm not worried about what anyone else thinks if they see us together, but I am concerned about how I conduct myself while I'm here. I came here for professional purposes only, to present the results of my research. I'm not here as a personal friend of yours. I'm also here with a colleague.'

  'You are concerned about what the diminutive Dr Rivers with his tasteless loud shirts thinks?'

  'He may not have your stature or standing, or indeed your dress sense, Zahir, but he is a good man—a man who might be hurt if he finds out I knew you from before and didn't tell him.'

  He muttered a well-used Kabuyadir curse and released her abruptly. 'Why should he be hurt?' he demanded, his heart hammering wildly inside his chest 'Are you telling me that you two are having an affair?'

  Gina appeared slightly dazed by the question. 'Me and Jake…? No, of course not.'

  'Then why should you care what he thinks?'

  'Out of respect—nothing more.'

  Owning to feeling thoroughly dissatisfied with her answer, Zahir gave her a distinctly cool glance before turning away and striding across to the large desk. Pulling open a hidden drawer, he retrieved a small ornate knife with a high-polished blade that was pointed at the end. He slid it into the previously empty leather sheath on his belt and once more swung round to face her.

  'I have to go out, so our business is at an end for now.'

  'Where are you going? And why do you need that weapon?'

  'There's a band of lawless rebels in the mountains who have been visiting local villages at night and causing trouble. They have received warnings from my council before, but still they continue to make a nuisance of themselves. Now I need to go and address them personally.'

  Gina walked towards him a few steps, her expression alarmed. 'Isn't that dangerous? You're not going there alone?'

  Liking the feeling that she cared about whether or not he might get hurt, Zahir allowed himself a lazy smile. 'I am not Zorro, Gina. I will of course be accompanied by a small detachment of trained soldiers.'

  'But still…' She twisted her hands in front of the gold and yellow kaftan that so fluidly fell to her feet, caressing her shapely but svelte body underneath on its way. 'Please be careful.'

  'I have too much at stake here to take unnecessary risks… My beloved sister, for one.' Aware that he sounded aloof and distant, and that he'd made a point of telling Gina it was his sister he cared most about in the world above anyone else, Zahir knew he was feeling anything but aloof towards the lovely woman who stood in front of him. Whenever he was near her molten heat seemed to beat an urgent path to his loins, and now was no exception.

  'Of course.' She dipped her head.

  'Later, when I return,' he continued, 'there is another matter that I would very much like to discuss with you. Even if it is late you should make yourself available. Do you understand?'

  The prettily shaped chin that he could cup in one hand if he had a mind to jutted forward in surprise. The big blue eyes sparkled defiantly. 'Is that some sort of royal command?'

  Her rebellious stance stunned Zahir. It also aroused him. His hands itched to touch her, sweep her high into his arms and carry her to his private apartments to do with as he willed. Knowing he could not, because even now his detachment of soldiers awaited him in the courtyard, he promised himself that he would teach her the most exquisite lesson later…

  'Yes,' he bellowed, then swept past her to the twin doors, 'it is!'

  Feeling on edge and restless, knowing that Zahir might possibly be in danger and that there was nothing she could do about it, Gina made a poor effort at eating lunch that day. At this rate she'd return home to England looking like a bag of bones! But how was she supposed to eat when fear that she might never see him again all but made her crazy?

  That incendiary kiss they'd shared earlier had irrevocably reminded her why he was the only man in the world she could ever love. The warm pressure of his mouth and the hot silken tongue that had passionately invaded her had left an indelible tingling imprint, and she longed to experience more of the same.

  She decided to try to distract her mind by asking Jamal if she could explore the palace grounds a little on her own. He immediately offered to escort her, as he had done Jake earlier, but she persisted in her request to go unaccompanied. With obvious reluctance in his expressive amber eyes, he agreed.

  There were several paved paths—some extravagantly shaded—meandering into the lush gardens. Birdsong abounded. Various enchanting scents hung in the air. Gina detected jasmine, orange blossom and heliotrope amongst others. Everywhere she glanced there were ornate fountains and stately stone statues—presumably of ancestors of the illustrious Kazeem Khan family? If her mind hadn't been so distracted with
worry about Zahir, and if she'd known for certain that he was safe, Gina might have allowed herself to investigate the statues further, indulge her love of history and genealogy together and truly revel in the discoveries she made. But under the circumstances, that was easier said than done.

  She was almost level with the slight, black-robed veiled figure sitting on a bench before she realised she should probably retrace her steps in case she was intruding on someone's peaceful contemplation. It was a woman—a young, elfin-faced woman—with the prettiest brown eyes and yet perhaps the saddest expression Gina had ever seen.

  'Who are you?' the woman asked, first in her own language and then, when Gina didn't immediately respond, in English.

  'I'm so sorry if I disturbed you. I'm Dr Gina Collins, and I'm here to help make an inventory of the palace artefacts for His Highness.' She bit her lip after this announcement, feeling more than just slightly guilty as she did as directed and supplied her alleged reason for being there.

  'My brother did not tell me he intended to make such an inventory.'

  'Forgive me…your brother?'

  'I am Farida, and the Sheikh of Kabuyadir is my brother…although lately he is becoming more and more like a stranger to me.'

  This was followed by a heavily troubled sigh. Standing stock still, Gina half expected to be waved away and told not to intrude on this particular part of the garden again. But to her surprise, Farida turned up her face and smiled.

  'It is nice to see another young woman about the place—someone from England, too. Zahir and I both went to university there—did you know that?'

  Feeling a jolt of surprise, Gina shook her head. 'I didn't. Where did you study?'

  'We both went to Oxford—he to Pembroke College, to study politics and economics, and me to Lady Margaret Hall to study English and modern languages.'

  'You're clearly both very bright. I'm afraid my grades weren't good enough to get me to Oxford.'

  'Zahir's mind is like a rapier. Mine is a little slower, but I get there eventually.'

  'And you liked it at Oxford?'

  'It is a fascinating city. Full of stunning architecture and history and learning and all the things I love—especially books. I was always the family bookworm. Whatever the time of day, I could usually be found with my head in some fascinating tome even before I went up to Oxford. But all that changed when I met Azhar—' Her words trailed off, her expression became subdued, and she was clearly lost in thought again.

  Gina's heart squeezed tight as she remembered Zahir telling her that Farida's husband Azhar had died in a car accident. She was so young…too young to be a widow.

  Before she'd realised her intention, she dropped down onto the bench beside her. 'Azhar was your husband?' she said gently.

  Farida nodded sadly. 'He was the love of my life. I have been so lost since he died. I don't really know what to do with my life any more. I don't believe I have anything left to offer anyone—even the brother I have always adored. Everything just seems futile.'

  'For a long time after he lost my mother, my father told me he felt like that, too. His method of coping with his grief was to lock himself away in the house and bury himself in his work. I didn't really know how strongly he felt about her until recently. Their marriage always seemed more of a pragmatic arrangement than anything else. I honestly thought that their relationship was more a meeting of minds than hearts. But lately—lately I've started to believe I was wrong about that.'

  Farida's soft brown gaze studied Gina for a long time before she finally spoke. 'I believe that love is everything…that no relationship or marriage can survive for long without it.'

  'And I believe that true love can never die. Wherever your beloved Azhar is now, he watches over you and only wants the best for you. I firmly believe that he would want you to enjoy the rest of your life and live it to the full, with his blessing.'

  To Gina's surprise, the other woman laid her hand over hers. 'Thank you, Gina. I may call you that? You have said something very important to me that will help me sleep a little easier tonight. How long do you stay in Kabuyadir?'

  She flushed a little. A buzzing insect flew by her ear and she brushed it away. 'I'm not sure. It depends how long the work I've been hired to do takes. I'm here with a colleague, by the way…Dr Rivers.'

  'I hope it takes a long time.' Farida smiled. 'For I feel that I have just made a new friend.'

  Unbearably touched, and because she feared the same debilitating grief would be visited on her should anything happen to Zahir, Gina found her blue eyes misting over for a second. 'The feeling is mutual…you're very kind.'

  The loudly insistent tattoo beaten on her bedroom door that night woke Gina from an already far from serene sleep. She hadn't bothered undressing because Zahir had told her to make herself available to talk when he returned. Even though she'd resented the command at the time, now she prayed he'd live to shout another one.

  Shoving off the exotic silk counterpane, she got hurriedly to her feet.

  'Dr Collins—His Highness desires your presence in his chambers immediately!' Looking as if he'd run all the way through the palace to reach her, beneath his dark red fez Jamal's forehead was lightly coated with glistening sweat.

  Light-headed with shock, Gina held on to the doorframe to anchor her for a moment. 'What's happened? Has he been hurt?'

  'Come.' Jamal gestured impatiently. 'No questions. Please come now.'

  Not bothering to turn back and put on the pretty sequinned slippers she'd left by the bed, she pulled the door to and followed Zahir's officious servant down the marble corridor barefoot.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  BARELY registering the vast bedroom she was shown into, Gina's focus was on the strongly built man whose long dark hair was spread out against a bank of plump pillows on the emperor-size bed where he lay. His impressive bronzed chest was bare apart from the stark white bandage encircling his ribcage. A spectacled man with a neat black beard, she could only assume was the court physician, attended him. She bit back a gasp when she saw the spreading red stain beneath another neatly applied bandage round his hard-muscled bicep. The physician was just withdrawing a hypodermic needle from Zahir's uninjured arm, and both men glanced round immediately as Jamal opened the door and ushered her inside.

  'Dr Collins…you have me at rather a disadvantage, I am afraid. Come closer. I won't bite you. I hardly have either the energy or the strength for that right now!'

  How could he joke at a time like this? Gina thought as she hurried forward towards the bed. 'You're hurt. What happened?'

  'Some foolish rebel leader thought he'd make a name for himself by killing the ruler of Kabuyadir—that's what happened! Luckily his ill-timed bullet only glanced against my arm and side. Do not look so worried, Dr Collins…my doctor has already assured me I'm going to live.'

  Again the jokey manner. She could hardly understand it. Did he really take the fact he'd almost been killed so lightly? 'That's not funny. Don't you have a bodyguard or someone looking out for you when you do this kind of thing?' Because she was worried and upset, it was hard to control the quaver in her voice.

  'My bodyguard took a bullet in the leg and is now being taken care of in hospital.'

  Zahir's voice was full of frustration, and for a moment she saw regret and anger in his glance. She suddenly wished that Jamal and the doctor would leave them alone together, so that she could ascertain for herself how he was really feeling. Something told her he must be putting on a front of some kind. But then his rich dark gaze turned surprisingly warm as he surveyed her. To add to her surprise, he reached for her hand and possessively held it—clearly unconcerned that his physician and servant bore witness to the gesture.

  They watched in silence as the doctor collected the tools of his trade and returned them to a bulky leather case. He spoke briefly in their shared language to Zahir, and his patient nodded as he listened. Then the man respectfully bowed, before backing away towards the door. Jamal held it open for hi
m.

  Catching his servant's eye, Zahir said in English, 'You may leave us. I will be perfectly all right now. Shortly I will take the good doctor's advice and get some sleep. Make sure news of the incident does not reach my sister's ears before I get a chance to tell her myself.'

  'Yes, Your Highness.'

  The door quietly closed, leaving them alone.

  Staring down at the small slender hand he still clasped in his, Zahir raised it to his lips and planted a tender kiss there.

  Biting her lip, Gina felt tears spring to her eyes. 'You shouldn't take such terrible risks,' she murmured, and she didn't care that he was a ruler of a kingdom. To her he was just a man—a man whose welfare she cared about more than any words could possibly convey.

  'I do not like this—that I make you weep,' he said gently, brushing away the damp trail that wet her cheek. 'And trust me—this is not how I'd planned to spend the night with you.'

  She did a mental double-take as his provocative words registered. Tugging her hand free from his clasp, she stared. 'Spend the night? What are you talking about, Zahir?'

  'Do you really not understand me?'

  'I told you already that I am here in a professional capacity only—that I—' She couldn't continue, because sudden self-consciousness had robbed her of the power to keep talking. The man lying atop the great bed, in black silk pyjama bottoms that fastened at least an inch and a half beneath his belly button, clearly did not share her problem. Tearing her gaze away from his perfectly taut stomach and slim bronzed hips, she found her body flooded with disconcerting heat.

  His sculpted lips curved in the most licentious smile. 'You can assume your professional capacity—whatever that means—during the day, but what is to stop us being together during the night? I know you are not immune to my attentions, even though you might hide behind the cover of your professional role.'

  'Look…I know you're hurt, and you're probably just looking for some kind of comfort, but I'm not jumping into bed with you just because—because it happened before.' If you could honestly forgive me for my mistake in not coming back, Gina thought anguished. If you really believed in the love I thought we shared that night we were together…then nothing could stop me sharing your bed. But I know because of what you now feel about the Heart of Courage's prophecy—and because you think I rejected you without a single regret—that that's not the case.