One Desert Night

by Maggie Cox

  'Are you saying that you missed me?' he taunted.

  She blushed deeply.

  'I went to visit the bodyguard who got injured by that foolish rebel the other day.' With provocative deliberation Zahir's fingers tipped up her chin. 'And then I went to see my secretary, Masoud. He is recovering from a virus. When he returns to the palace I very much want you to meet him. You'd like him, I think.'

  The pad of his thumb pressed into her fulsome lower lip. Along with the provocative sensation of her vulnerable soft mouth beneath his thumb, the heated little gasp that feathered over him hardened him instantly.

  'Will he...will he be back soon?'

  'Masoud? I hope so... Maybe in another week or two.'

  As much as he respected his loyal employee and friend, Zahir was in no mood to discuss him any further.

  He lowered his hand to retrieve the book and papers Gina still clung onto so avidly. 'Why don't you put these down for a while, hmm?'

  She released them reluctantly, and he laid them back down on the table. Then he gathered her face between his hands so that he could examine her lovely features at close quarters. The quiver that he sensed went through her reminded him of a delicate rose petal, shivering in the wind. Not able to resist the temptation of that seductive yet innocent mouth any longer, he lowered his lips to hers. The sensual meeting was like a dizzying conflagration—an explosion of feeling, need and want like no other. If a tremor had ruptured the earth right then beneath his feet, Zahir could not have felt as shaken.

  His palms slid over her shoulders down to her breasts. Catching the burgeoning nipples between thumb and forefinger, through her dress and the delicate lace bra she wore underneath, he mercilessly provoked the already rigid tips to grow harder still. With the softly velvet whimpers that sounded in his ears inflaming him, he moved his eager hands down to the seductive womanly curve of her hips, then her delightfully shaped bottom. The thin, clingy silk of her dress was hardly any barrier at all to his fevered exploration.

  The scalding heat all but flooding his loins practically rendered Zahir mindless. He was a mere breath away from dragging Gina down to the conveniently long library table and taking her in the most basic, feral way when she wrenched her lips free from his and flattened her palm against his chest. His breathing a hotly ragged rasp, he stared into her languorous blue eyes in shock.

  'We can't be crazy like this. Have you forgotten that there's a bodyguard outside? A bodyguard that you insisted follow me everywhere.'

  The thought hadn't even entered his head, even though he'd passed the man in the hallway before he'd entered the library. Zahir immediately dismissed her concern with unconcealed irritation. 'So? He is trained to be discreet as well as to defend and protect.'

  He would have pulled Gina back into his arms if not for the fact that she was already moving away from him. Looking as if her mind was already made up as to what she would do next, she collected the book and papers he'd lain on the table and once more held them against her chest. Her features were flushed, her clothes sexily disarrayed—and so was the golden hair that threatened to tumble free from its clasp at any moment.

  Inside his chest, Zahir's heart thumped in an agitated blend of frustration and pure unadulterated lust. 'Where are you going?'

  She lowered her gaze. 'I'm feeling tired all of a sudden. You're right...I think I should go and rest now.'

  'You cannot be serious?' He stared at her as if she'd taken leave of her senses. Did she have any idea how much pain he was in right now? And he wasn't referring to the flesh wounds he'd received, either.

  'I'm not pretending. I really am tired.'

  'You would rather sleep than stay and finish what we started? Didn't you enjoy our lovemaking last night?'

  Gina went very still for a moment. 'Of course I did. It was incredible. But I'm trying to be respectful—to you and to myself. There's a time and a place for everything, and...like I said...there's a bodyguard outside.'

  Dragging his fingers through his long unbound hair, Zahir could hardly contain his mounting frustration. 'If you are worried that we might be overheard, then we can retire to my quarters instead.'

  'Not tonight, Zahir. I'm not trying to deliberately frustrate you, but it's been a tiring day and I am going back to my rooms now. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight.'

  Her head held high, and more regal than any princess he had ever met, Gina walked past him and out of the room. Shaking his head in dazed disbelief, Zahir kicked a nearby chair and sent it skidding noisily across the marble floor. Instantly he heard the running footsteps of the alert guard race towards him from outside in the corridor, and vehemently cursed under his breath.

  CHAPTER TEN

  INSTEAD of seeking out the relaxing steam of the hamam bath, followed by a massage, Zahir had stormed back to his quarters the night before, and immersed himself in the longest cold shower known to man. Afterwards he'd turned and tossed as though he were in the grip of a fever, and had barely slept a wink. Gina's unexpected rejection of his amorous attentions in the library had left him feeling aggrieved, ill-treated and sore.

  How dared she rebuff him like that? Reminding him that the bodyguard he'd instructed to watch over her waited outside had just been an excuse. Why did she now seem wary of the passion that erupted between them whenever they were together? She was a young, vibrant woman, with needs just like any other woman, and Zahir was a fit and healthy male with a strong libido. Why couldn't she simply allow herself to enjoy fully the opportunity for them to be together and receive the sensual pleasure that he was more than willing to provide? Was she afraid that he would just use her and forgo all respect for her?

  Furious at the fact she'd left him frustrated, and unwilling to explore the unsettling thought that his feelings for her might run a little deeper than having her as a convenient bedmate to assuage his lust, Zahir set out early that next morning to travel with a small entourage into the neighbouring kingdom of Kajistan. It was a day and a half's journey, so he'd be gone for at least three days. Three days for Gina to reflect on what a mistake she'd make in so foolishly turning him down. At least that was his hope.

  He determinedly cast the irksome thought aside. He was making the journey to Kajistan—because after the recent distasteful events with the rebels—Kabuyadir needed to make an outward demonstration of stability. How better to achieve that than by his marrying, and aligning the ruling dynasty with another great house? A cause for celebration would help to reassure everyone.

  And so it had come to him, in the sleepless early hours of the morning, that perhaps it was time to run a more serious gaze over the Emir's marriageable daughter...

  'Gina! Gina, I have to talk to you.'

  Lost in a world of her own in the library yet again—she'd gone there in search of peace and consolation after a torturous sleepless night during which her thoughts had been consumed with Zahir—Gina glanced up in surprise to find the Sheikh's pretty sister bearing down on her, her expression distressed.

  'Is something wrong?' She prayed it didn't concern Zahir.

  She'd seen the look of hurt and frustration on his face last night, when she'd declined his suggestion of going to bed with him, but she'd honestly been emotionally drained after the incident in the marketplace, and had needed to retreat and lick her wounds a little. She also didn't want him to think she would sleep with him at the drop of a hat just because of their night together in the Bedouin tent.

  Perhaps they both needed some space and time to reflect and assess the situation? But right then the idea that some harm might have come to him filled her with icy dread.

  'Zahir left the palace early this morning to travel to Kajistan.'

  'Kajistan?'

  'Remember I told you about the Emir and his daughter?' Farida dropped down into the chair across the table from her a little breathlessly. 'He's gone there to consolidate his marriage plans.'

  A silent hurt scream echoed despairingly round the chambers of Gina's heart. Keeping her
hand on the opened yellowed leaf of the journal she'd been studying, she fought hard to conceal her distress, but know she failed miserably

  'He has?' She knew she looked as devastated as she felt.

  Farida plucked her hand from the book and held it warmly. 'We can't let him ruin his life like this, Gina—we just can't! When he returns you must tell him that you love him.'

  'No.' She firmly tugged her hand free. 'He's made his decision about what he wants from a relationship, Farida, and it's not a woman who loves him. If making your dynasty stronger by aligning himself with the emirate of Kajistan is what's important to him, then so be it.'

  'So be it? Have you lost your mind, Gina? Don't you believe in fighting for the man you love?'

  'I won't fight for a man who doesn't love me, Farida... What would be the point? I might keep him for a while, as long as he desire me, but what happens when he finds somebody else he likes more? I'd be utterly devastated. If Zahir doesn't believe in love, then I can't make him believe in it.'

  'So you'd rather just stand by and let him marry the dull, boring daughter of the Emir of Kajistan?'

  'I didn't say I'd rather do that.'

  Despondent, Gina sighed with private terror. Now she regretted abandoning their lovemaking in the library last night. How terrible if her hurt pride had stood in the way of allowing Zahir to be close to her once more. Especially if after his return from Kajistan it turned out to be the last opportunity she'd ever had!'

  'Have you completely forgotten the prophecy of the Heart of Courage? The prophecy that states every descendant of the house of Kazeem Khan will marry for love?

  The other woman's beautiful almond eyes were imploring. Taking a deep breath before she replied, Gina knew she had to be honest about something at last—something that had seriously been troubling her since she'd been asked to keep it secret. 'Farida...I didn't come here purely to do the inventory. The auction house I work for in London was approached by your brother to corroborate the research and provenance of the Heart of Courage. He plans to sell it, we were told...because he thinks of it as a curse on his family.'

  'Are you serious?'

  'I'm afraid so.'

  'I have heard him talk about it as a curse before, but I had no idea that he planned to sell it...to be rid of it for good. In truth, I am utterly shocked to hear this.'

  'I'm so sorry I've had to be the bearer of such disturbing news. It's because your parents died so close to each other and then you lost your beloved husband in the accident. Zahir thinks that in marrying for love you were cursed—not blessed by the prophecy associated with the jewel.'

  'His mind must have slipped into temporary madness!' The other girl's skin turned abnormally pale for a few moments. 'How could he contemplate selling such an important piece of our family's history? He is just scared that's all...scared that if he should fall in love that love would be ripped away by some awful tragedy and he would never get over it. I have always considered by brother to be one of the bravest men I know, but now I see that when it comes to one of the most important things of all in life he is a coward.'

  Gina wanted to respond—but how? Words seemed terribly inadequate right then. But now she felt as if she understood why Zahir would seek an arranged marriage rather than a love-match.

  Her hand idly but carefully turned over a couple of the journal pages in front of her. Inside her a little flame of hope lit and wouldn't be doused. 'For what it's worth, Farida, I was captured by the jewel and its wonderful prophecy from the moment I heard about it. It's practically all I can think about. And I may have an idea,' she said, indicating the book on the table.

  'What do you have here?'

  'It's an old family journal I found. It must be a couple of hundred years old at least. The only problem is my knowledge of your language is nowhere near good enough to understand it. I can make out some odd words and phrases, but that's all.'

  'Why don't I help you?' Zahir's sister leapt up from her seat to move round the table and join her. 'I don't think I've ever seen this.' Her fingers stroked the intricately embroidered cover patterned with silk flowers in wonder. 'Where did you find it?'

  Gina flushed guiltily. 'It was tucked away on one of the higher bookshelves. When I spotted it I guessed it must be a personal record of some kind. To tell you the truth I've been looking for evidence of marriages in the dynasty that have fulfilled the prophecy and continued happily right up until the end.'

  After perusing the contents with their beautifully scripted writing for a few moments, Farida glanced back at her companion with excitement brimming in her eyes. 'This is my great-great-grandmother's journal, and in it she mentions the Heart of Courage! She's bound to have mentioned her own marriage at least, and if it was happy or not.'

  Daring to stay with the hope that had been ignited inside her, Gina silently shook her head in wonder, even as the edges of her teeth clamped down anxiously on her lap...

  For three years Gina had been bereft of Zahir's presence. But now, having seen him again, and knowing for certain that she had never stopped loving him and never would, the three days of his absence from the palace was like being slowly tortured.

  Oh, she filled her days well enough with the job of the inventory, and Farida had been the kindest and best hostess and friend...but every cell in her body ached interminably to see Zahir again, and hopefully get the chance to show him just how much she cared. The idea of him returning with news of his upcoming wedding was like an approaching violent storm about to tear down her house, but Gina told herself she would not leave Kabuyadir without expressly telling him exactly how she felt once and for all. She would fight for the man she loved, and if after that he still rejected her then she would just have to accept that it wasn't her destiny to be with him after all.

  Zahir was glad to finally arrive back at the palace. The sight of the turrets blazing like molten gold in the afternoon sun filled his heart with both pride and joy. It was good to be home. He'd spent most of the journey there and back again from Kajistan consumed with concern about Gina and his sister. Having given instructions that their personal bodyguards were to be extra-vigilant and stay close to them at all times, as well as posting extra guards round the palace and in the watchtower, he was still not totally reassured they were safe.

  The uprising might have been quelled with the imprisonment of the rebel leader and his equally hot-headed brother, but after the incident Gina had suffered in the marketplace he knew there was no such thing as being too careful. On his way to Kajistan he had wrestled painfully with the wisdom of what he intended. He had almost turned back...almost.

  'Zahir!' Farida ran towards him as he strode down the hallway towards his personal quarters. She tugged him hard, then stood back to survey him. She appeared a little nervous, he thought, and his brow furrowed in concern. 'I'm so glad you're back,' she said.

  'All is well here?'

  'Yes, everything's fine—absolutely fine. How was your trip?'

  Her small hands twisted restlessly in front of her black silk dress, prompting a quizzical smile from Zahir. 'You are sure?'

  'Perfectly sure.'

  'Well, my trip was fine, too. The Emir's hospitality was second to none, as usual.'

  'And what of his daughter?'

  'She was...' He concentrated hard for a moment on how much to tell. 'She was very well.'

  Suddenly brother and sister were like two awkward strangers, trying to make conversation at a party neither had wanted to attend. Zahir regretted that, but there would be time enough to make amends. Right now he was anxious to get out of his travelling clothes and take a reviving shower. But there was one subject he had to touch upon before he left.'

  'And Gina...how is she?'

  Farida's answering smile was broad. 'She's good. We've been working hard on the inventory. She's upstairs in one of the galleries, surrounded by books and papers, researching the history of a pair of ancient urns from Persia—you know the ones I mean?'

  She saw b
y his raised eyebrows that he did.

  'She absolutely loves the work. It's a joy to spend time with her. I've learned so much about our own family's heritage through Gina. By the way—I've arranged a special dinner tonight for your return, so we can all convene then and hear each other's news.'

  'That was thoughtful of you. Right now I would like to shake off the dust of my travels, have a shower and change into some fresh clothes. I will see you this evening at dinner.' Briefly Zahir touched the side of her face, then continued on down the long corridor to his private domain.

  Not hearing the soft tread on the carpeted hall floor, Gina chewed thoughtfully on her pencil as she perused the delicate urns on the plinth in front of her. She had been trying to date them. Her training and intuition led her towards believing they were two of the finest examples of some of the earliest glazed pottery in the world—probably from the Achaemenian era of the Persian Empire, she thought. Sitting back on her heels, she silently admired their incredible artistry—particularly the figures of some archers, with their still dazzling gold and silver swords.

  'The inventory is keeping you very busy, I see. I fear I am working you too hard, Dr Collins.'

  The gently teasing warm male voice from behind made Gina grow still. Slowly, she turned, and the imposing sight of Zahir dressed in his fine robes, dark hair shining fiercely even in the half-light of the evening, and his eyes glinting in mocking merriment, made her heart race madly. He was home. At last...she thought feverishly.

  Removing the pencil she'd been absently chewing, she smiled helplessly shy—because all of a sudden it was as if she was meeting him for the first time. 'Like I told you before...it's not like work when it's a genuine passion. Did you have a good trip to Kajistan?'