Bella and the Merciless Sheikh

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘Wash your clothes in the oasis.’ He was irritated by how much that smile affected him. ‘They’ll dry quickly if you put them on a rock.’

  ‘And in the meantime I’m supposed to walk around naked?’

  ‘In the meantime you wear a robe.’ It might be a good for his sanity, Zafiq thought grimly, to cover her up from head to foot. The mere mention of the word naked was enough to make him consider jumping back in the pool himself simply for its cooling effects on his over taxed libido. ‘And stay out of the sun.’

  Bella sank under the still surface of the water. Her skin was burning from the sun exposure; she felt hot, grubby and unattractive but she did feel better now that she’d cooled off, and it was bliss to wash off the sand that appeared to have stuck to every part of her skin. There was no mirror in the tent but the Sheikh’s in difference to her as a woman told her everything she needed to know.

  Clearly she looked a complete fright. Like some sort of alien sand monster. If she’d been thinking clearly she would have bathed in the pool before trying to talk him into taking her to the city.

  Still unable to believe that he was going to make her stay here with him, she glared at the outside of the large white tent.

  Where was he anyway? Meditating?

  Bella frowned as she tried to see her reflection in the water.

  No, a man with muscles like that had to do something more physical than meditate.

  Was he watching her?

  The thought made her shiver and she dipped under the water again and did her best to remove the sand from her hair, methodically working on it section by section.

  ‘Never again am I taking shampoo for granted.’ Despite her disappointment at not being back in the city, she had to admit that the pool was beautiful. Shaded by palm trees, the calm, glassy surface of the water reflected the perfectly blue sky, and beyond the palm trees the dunes rose steeply, turned to a shade of pinky orange by the late-afternoon sun.

  It wasn’t the city, but it was better than being trapped in the Retreat. Better than having to meditate or contemplate or whatever, Bella mused as she cleansed the last section of her hair and then turned onto her back. Floating in the peaceful pool, staring up at the sky, she felt unusually tranquil.

  In fact, the whole situation was surprisingly relaxing.

  The Sheikh had no idea who she really was. He knew nothing of the latest Balfour scandal. They’d probably never even heard of the Balfours out here in the desert.

  Which suited her perfectly.

  Although she’d hated the Retreat, Bella knew she couldn’t go home.

  What was there to go home for?

  They didn’t want her there.

  She’d made a hideous mess of her life.

  Feeling tears prick her eyes, Bella dipped her head under the water, feeling more alone than she’d ever felt.

  Feeling the water ripple around her she spluttered to the surface, realising that she wasn’t as alone as she’d thought.

  The Sheikh’s stallion stood on the edge of the oasis, drinking from the water.

  ‘Hi, there.’ Bella grinned at him, admiring the powerful muscles of his neck and legs. ‘Are you really as dangerous as he says you are? You don’t look it.’

  At the sound of her voice, the horse reared up, showing the whites of his eyes as he pawed the air.

  ‘All right, I get the message,’ Bella said drily, ‘you’re dangerous. And moody like your master. Calm down, will you? I’m harmless.’ She swam across from the centre of the pool and swept her dripping hair out of her eyes. ‘What else can you do? Any other tricks?’

  The horse flattened his ears to his head and stared at her suspiciously.

  Bella was about to reach out her hand to stroke him when a masculine voice stopped her.

  ‘Don’t touch him—he has a very uncertain temper. He could hurt you.’

  Bella froze, but the sudden tremor of her limbs wasn’t caused by fear of the horse. ‘Have you been watching me?’

  ‘I was watching the pool. As you seem to have the most astonishing propensity for attracting trouble, I thought it might be the simplest way to keep you alive.’

  ‘I’m not your responsibility.’

  ‘I know. But if you die out here in the desert I will have to take your body back to the city and that doesn’t fit in with my plans.’

  ‘Oh, thanks!’ Her tone sarcastic, Bella waded into shallower water, forgetting that she was naked from the waist up.

  She heard his sudden indrawn breath and saw his gaze linger on her body in an unmistakably masculine appraisal.

  Bella resisted the in explicable urge to cover herself. ‘Stop staring.’

  ‘If you didn’t want me to look, you wouldn’t have removed your clothes.’

  ‘I only have one set,’ she said tartly. ‘It’s either naked in the water, or naked all evening. Take your pick.’

  ‘You have no modesty.’

  ‘If you don’t like it, don’t look, Your Highness.’ But she saw the unmistakable gleam of admiration in his eyes as he scanned her curves reluctantly. Reluctant was good, she told herself. Reluctant meant the emotion he was feeling was more powerful than he wanted it to be. And there was no better confidence booster than a man who wanted her despite himself. Starved of affection—deeply wounded by the rejection of her family—Bella couldn’t help enjoying that admiration.

  She stepped out of the water and twisted her hair into a thick rope, squeezing out the water, not bothering to cover herself. Although she didn’t look at the Sheikh, she was hyperaware of him as she stretched out her hand to the snorting stallion.

  She could feel him looking at her.

  ‘You need to calm down,’ she cooed. ‘There’s no need to be all macho and dominating. I know you’re stronger than I am.’ She talked to the animal in a low voice and the horse blew through his nostrils, watching her all the time.

  His head snaked forward in a rapid movement and in an instant the Sheikh was between her and the horse.

  Controlling the stallion with a single, abrupt command, he closed his hand round Bella’s wrist and dragged her towards the tent.

  ‘You are the most provoking, wilful, obstinate—’

  ‘Irresponsible, thoughtless, selfish,’ Bella added helpfully, and he growled deep in his throat and hauled her against his hard, powerful body. Without hesitation or warning he brought his mouth down on hers and she felt his strong hands slide down her bare back, holding her captive. Her damp skin burned against the pressure of his fingers and sexual excitement consumed her body like a ravenous beast.

  As his mouth plundered hers with raw, unrestrained passion all she was aware of was heat. The heat of his tongue, the heat of the tent and the scorching heat that seared through her body like a flaming lance.

  It was like nothing she’d ever felt before.

  Like nothing she’d ever imagined—

  And then he released her, thrusting her away from him as if she were infectious.

  Suddenly unsupported, Bella swayed, dizzy and disorientated from his kiss and wondering why he would want to stop doing something that felt so good.

  Up until that point in her life if anyone had asked her if she’d ever been kissed, she would have said yes. Only now did she realise that she would have been lying.

  She’d never been kissed.

  Not like that.

  Everything that had happened to her before this moment had been a pale imitation of the real thing.

  Where had he learned to kiss a woman like that?

  ‘Cover yourself!’ His voice harsh, he kept his back to her and Bella stared blankly at his wide shoulders, wondering why he was so angry. She was feeling a thousand different emotions, but anger certainly wasn’t one of them.

  But she didn’t argue. She saw the white robe that he’d spread on the bed, picked it up and slipped it over her head. It fell to the ground and she pulled a face.

  ‘Great. Right on trend. Do you have a pair of scissors or something
? I’m going to break my neck if I wander around in this.’ She was surprised that her voice sounded so normal, because inside she felt anything but normal. That kiss had left her feeling as though she’d been mixed in a cocktail shaker.

  He turned swiftly, his dark eyes hooded, his mouth a firm, uncompromising line as he swept her appearance in a single glance. Without saying a word he took the dagger from the folds of his robe and stepped towards her.

  Alarmed, Bella took an involuntary step back wards. ‘There’s no need to— Oh—’ She squeaked in astonishment as he bent down, sliced the blade through the fabric and removed the surplus material in two bold strokes. The robe now stopped just above the ankle and Bella stared at his dark, glossy hair, heart thumping.

  ‘So the blade isn’t ornamental, then,’ she croaked, and he straightened in a lithe movement, his eyes menacing.

  ‘No.’ He slid it back inside his robe. ‘It isn’t.’

  She licked her lips. ‘Why do you carry a knife?’

  Without bothering to answer her question he strode out of the tent, leaving her staring after him, wondering what she’d done wrong.

  He’d kissed her, hadn’t he? Surely he couldn’t blame her for that.

  Irritated by the injustice of it all, Bella sat down on the bed, touching her lips with her fingers. Her lips were so dry after her day in the desert, it must have been like kissing sand paper.

  Feeling more vulnerable than she wanted to admit, she combed her fingers through her rapidly drying hair, wishing she could do something about her appearance.

  There must be something she could use to see her reflection.

  Typical, she thought gloomily. She met the man of her dreams and she didn’t even have a mirror or a decent pair of shoes.

  No wonder he’d virtually run out of the tent. He’d probably prefer to look at his horse.

  Bella’s wounded pride made her reluctant to leave the tent, but her restless nature made it impossible for her to sit still for long. And she couldn’t quite believe that he’d knocked her back.

  She was used to fending men off, not chasing after them.

  Telling herself that if he didn’t want to look at her, then he could face the opposite direction, Bella stalked out of the tent.

  The throb in her head was growing steadily worse again but she was too proud to ask if he had any tablets.

  ‘I have made you tea.’ His deep voice came from a few metres away and she turned to look at him, noticing that he’d built a fire.

  ‘If it’s herbal tea, I might just have to kill you.’ Bella rubbed her hands up her arms, wondering how it was possible to feel shivery in the desert. ‘I don’t suppose you have anything more interesting to drink? Champagne?’

  He didn’t smile. ‘It’s Bedouin tea.’

  ‘What’s Bedouin tea? Tea you drink before you go to bed?’ Still cross with him, she knelt down gingerly on the rug he’d placed on the sand, determined not to show how bad she felt.

  ‘It’s made from tea leaf, sugar and desert herbs—’ He poured some of the dark liquid into a cup and handed it to her. ‘It has a very distinctive flavour. Try it.’

  ‘I’ve drunk more tea in the past two weeks than I’ve had in my whole life.’ Bella sniffed the tea cautiously, took a sip and wrinkled her nose. ‘It tastes…different. I hadn’t imagined you drinking tea—’

  ‘It is customary to drink tea with a guest and share stories and news. The Bedouin are very hospitable people. And excellent story tellers.’

  ‘So tell me a story. But make sure it has a happy ending. No drama or misery. A few fairy princesses wouldn’t go amiss.’ She’d had more than enough drama lately to last her a lifetime. ‘Tell me about the Bedouin. They’re nomadic, aren’t they? So are you rediscovering your tribal roots?’

  ‘The sheikh is basically the leader of the tribe.’

  ‘All-powerful. Do people shake when they see you coming? Get it? Shake…sheikh…?’ Her voice trailed off. She grinned at him, her hands curled round the mug, eyeing the austere lines of his handsome face. ‘You don’t smile much, do you?’

  ‘I smile when I’m amused.’

  Refusing to be daunted, Bella blew gently on her tea. ‘You need to lighten up and take life less seriously.’

  ‘Perhaps you need to take it more seriously. Then you wouldn’t find yourself dying of heat stroke and thirst, or stranded alone in the desert with a stranger.’

  ‘So what amuses you? You said you smile when you’re amused. So I’m wondering what makes you laugh. Obviously not my appalling sheikh jokes.’ She took another sip of tea and decided that the taste was growing on her. ‘When was the last time you collapsed with laughter? You know, laughed so hard you couldn’t speak—laughed so hard you almost cracked a rib.’

  The fire crackled and a whisper of smoke curled into the air. ‘I can’t recall ever having “collapsed with laughter” and amusement has never affected my ability to converse.’

  ‘Don’t people ever make jokes around you?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Because you’re so intimidating, I suppose.’ Seriously worried by how ill she felt, Bella curled her legs to one side. ‘What do you do to relax, then? Parties? Do you sheikh rock and roll?’

  A muscle flickered in his lean, angular jaw. ‘You just can’t help yourself, can you?’

  ‘No. I can’t. Sorry. I’m trying to make you laugh but I know when I’m beaten, Your Highness,’ Bella said flippantly, really disconcerted by the fact he hadn’t smiled at a single one of her jokes. Used to being the centre of attention wherever she went, she didn’t know how to react to him.

  He added something to the food bubbling in the pot. ‘Presumably you frequently collapse with laughter?’

  ‘Quite often. Usually at awkward times. There’s something about stiff, formal occasions that makes me want to giggle. Usually at about the same moment someone is pointing a camera at me.’

  His glance was penetrating. ‘You attend many stiff, formal occasions with photographers in attendance?’

  Bella stilled. ‘Not really. Church and stuff. Family photographs.’ The annual Balfour Ball with shoals of hungry paparazzi ready to indulge in a feeding frenzy.

  Thinking of that particular event wiped the desire to laugh from her body.

  He was still watching her. ‘Is everything a joke to you?’

  ‘No,’ Bella said flatly, staring down at her empty mug and trying not to think about the latest scandal she’d un earthed. ‘But I prefer to try and see the funny side of life whenever possible.’

  ‘You are extremely frivolous.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s me.’ Her voice husky, Bella kept her eyes fixed on the mug until she was sure she was in control. ‘You ought to meet my father. You’d get on really well. If you have a spare month you could compare notes on my deficiencies. So you’re from a noble family, is that right? How come you speak perfect English?’

  ‘I went to a boarding school in England. My father understood the importance of maintaining our unique history and culture whilst incorporating the advances of the modern world.’

  Bella looked around her, surprised to realise that it had grown dark while they were talking. Above them what seemed like a million tiny silver stars gleamed in a cloud less desert sky and she stared up at them in fascination. ‘I feel as though I could reach out and touch them. I don’t remember there being this many stars in England.’

  ‘You have too much light pollution.’

  Or maybe she’d never stopped to look at the sky. ‘It’s pretty. Reminds me of a dress I had once—’ she tilted her head to one side ‘—indigo silk with tiny silver beads.’

  ‘Do you ever think of anything other than how you look?’

  ‘Looking good is part of my job,’ Bella said defensively and then flushed as his eyes narrowed.

  ‘What is your job?’

  ‘Oh, this and that…’ She was tempted to just say ‘doctor’ or ‘lawyer’ or something that would wipe the arrogant look off his
face. She didn’t think he’d be impressed to know she spent most of her day asleep and most of the night at parties, wearing clothes by designers who were desperate to have their creations modelled by Bella Balfour. ‘I’m sort of in between jobs at the moment.’

  ‘It is good to take time out to reflect on how you are spending your life. Everyone needs time to think about whether they are making a difference.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Bella squirmed, pretty sure that she didn’t make a difference to anyone. At least, not a positive one. ‘Is that why you’re here?’

  ‘I spend a week in the desert to escape the constant pressures of twenty-first-century life.’

  ‘Don’t you miss civilization? How do you survive without the Internet?’

  ‘The Internet is a useful tool, not an addiction.’

  ‘For me it’s an addiction. I’m a Google girl. How do you stop yourself playing around with it?’ Bella waved her hand and then remembered that she hadn’t had a manicure for two weeks and tucked it out of sight. ‘I go on to look up one thing—I don’t know, let’s say a new spa or something—next thing I know, an hour has passed and I haven’t done the thing I was supposed to do. I’m horribly undisciplined.’

  ‘I have no trouble believing that.’

  She looked at the pot on the fire. ‘So if you’ve gone back to nature, how did you light the fire? Did you rub two sticks together? Use a magnifying glass to concentrate the sun’s rays?’

  ‘I used a match,’ he said drily and Bella giggled and wagged her finger at him.

  ‘That’s a disgraceful shortcut. I’m really disappointed in you. You should have been setting fire to camel dung at the very least.’ She was painfully conscious of him—of his strength and competence. ‘But you enjoy being away from everything, honestly?’

  ‘Desert life is hard, but simple. The problems are basic ones that man has faced for centuries. Where to find food and water. How to provide for a family. I enjoy the silence and I enjoy being with the horses.’

  ‘How come the stallion is happy along side the mare?’

  ‘They know each other well.’

  ‘So the mare I took, you know her?’

  ‘Amira—she belongs to me.’