One Desert Night

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 by 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?'

On the last word Gina lowered her gaze, because she didn't really want to know if his trip had been good if 'good' meant that he'd become officially engaged to the Emir's daughter.

'If you are asking if I had a safe and uneventful journey, then the answer to that question is yes. As for the hospitality of the Emir—that lived up to its famously high standard, as always, and did not disappoint.'

Making a slow, measured approach, Zahir was suddenly in front of her. His leather boots were buffed to a mirrorshine, she noticed, and just as her eager glance travelled upwards to examine the rest of him he dropped down to his haunches, so that their gazes were level. The fine calf leather of his boots creaked a little as he lowered himself, and the arousing scents of agarwood and sandalwood made a potent assault against senses that were already under siege.

It was all Gina could do to keep her fingers laced together in her lap and not reach out to touch her.

'I'm glad that you're back safe,' she said softly.

'I confess it is good to be home again. You have a pencil smudge at the corner of your mouth. Here...' He leaned forward and gently rubbed at it.

Gina all but held her breath. 'It's a bad habit of mine, I'm afraid,' she murmured. 'Chewing the end of pencils, I mean.'

Smiling into her eyes, Zahir withdrew again. 'Those urns were two of my father's favourite pieces,' he commented, nodding his head towards them.

'Were they? Your father must have had impeccable taste, then, as well as being a bit of a historian. Was he interested in history?'

'He was, as a matter of fact. How could he not be when he lived amongst so many incredible historical treasures in this palace?'

'What was he like? Will you tell me?' Again Gina almost held her breath. As yet he had never shared with her any personal details of his family, or how the loss of his parents—particularly his father—had affected him. She knew how a son's relationship with his father and the example he'd had from his first and most important male role model shaped their future.

'He was definitely the authority figure in our home, but he was never cruel or unfair. He loved us all very much and showed it daily. He was also revered by our people. 'Trust me...' he grimaced ruefully 'he was a very hard act to follow. It devastated me when he died not very long after my mother. Sometimes I imagine I can still hear the deep rumble of his laughter, or the firmness of his voice instructing the guards echoing round the palace walls. Anyway...he is gone now.'

Gina said softly, 'You must miss him very much, Zahir.'

'Every day.' He quickly shielded the emotion that she had briefly detected in his tone. 'I came to find you not just to say hello, but to inform you—at my sister's request—that dinner will be served in the dining room in about one hour. See how she makes me useful? Perhaps you should finish what you're doing and go and get ready? Farida tells me it is a special meal to welcome me home.'

'Of course... I completely forgot the time.' Getting herself ready to stand, she was taken by surprise when Zahir stood up first, then reached out his hand to help her. He held on to her for several long seconds as his dark eyes roamed her face.

'I never knew that just three days away from the people I care about could seem like a lifetime, but it did...' His voice was suddenly pitched sensually low. 'It did.'

Desperate to ask him what he meant by 'the people I care about', Gina nevertheless remained silent. Was he including her in that exclusive little group? If so, what about his engagement to the Emir's daughter? It was so frustrating not to know what he intended. Didn't he realise it was all but killing her to imagine him married to someone else?

'I'd better go and get ready for dinner. I know Farida's been busy organising the menu with the kitchen staff all day,' she murmured.

'Do you have anything else in this colour?' Zahir nodded his head towards her silky aquamarine kaftan. 'If you have, I would like you to wear it. It complements your eyes and reminds me of a too rare glimpse of the sea. I like it very much.'

It wasn't exactly easy to mentally assess her wardrobe right then, when he'd made such a surprisingly personal request, but Gina managed a shrug and answered, 'I think I might have something else in the colour. I'll check when I go back to my room.'

'Good. I will look forward to seeing you at dinner, then.'

He was walking back down the corridor, his long robes swirling round his booted calves, before she could even think to move and gather up her papers from the carpeted floor...



They were dining in a room Gina had not had the privilege of seeing before, but once seen it would be hard to forget. Above the long burnished table at which they sat was a vaulted ceiling, with a stunning circular dome made up of several different sections of vividly coloured glass. On the walls were lavishly painted murals of scenes depicting days of a powerful empire long gone, and a theme of arabesque patterning could be seen throughout, inlaid to particularly stunning effect in the marble floor. The space was lit tonight by softly glowing candles encased in lanterns—both on the walls and on the beautifully laid table. With the scent of spices and incense hanging in the air, it was like walking into a magical scene from the country's magnificent past.

After they'd washed their hands in a ritualistic vessel filled with warm water, they sat in silence as the servants passed various aromatic dishes of food from guest to guest.

Relieved to find it was just to be the three of them tonight, Gina tried hard to relax—but it wasn't easy with Zahir sitting opposite her, his darkly hypnotic glance frequently locking with hers and making her insides jump.

Of the three of them, it was Farida who seemed most at ease. Tonight her pretty face was literally glowing with pleasure at having her brother safely home again.

The servants departed—including Jamal, at Zahir's express request—and Farida raised her glass of fruit juice in a toast. 'To Zahir, in honour of your safe return from Kajistan after what has been a difficult time for us all...and for your steadfast, dedicated and wise rule of the kingdom. Our father would have been more than proud.'

He seemed taken aback. Was that a flush of hot colour beneath his bronzed skin? 'I have only ever wanted to honour his great memory by doing justice of his faith in me,' he murmured. 'And if I can do that even in a small way I should be very glad.'

'To Zahir.' Gina flushed as the handsome recipient of the toast glanced her way. Should she have said Your Highness, instead of addressing him so personally? But he was smiling, and for a moment she breathed a little easier.

'Thank you, my sister...and you also, Gina. Like I said earlier, I am very glad to be home again. I've returned with some important news.'

Gina's reprieve from anxiety was not yet over. Her insides tightened painfully. Was this where he announced that he was officially engaged to the Emir's daughter? If so, was she willing to remain in Kabuyadir as his mistress, knowing that he would never wholly be hers? Returning her glass to the table, she nervously brushed an imaginary piece of lint from the long sleeve of the aquamarine top that matched her long silk skirt.

Her expression equally concerned, Farida's voice was falsely bright. 'Perhaps we should enjoy our meal before you tell us your news, Zahir?'

He frowned. 'It is most unlike you not to want to hear my news straight away, Farida.' Narrowing his gaze, he silently assessed her for a moment. 'I think you must have undergone a serious change of character while I've been gone if that is the case.'

'Not at all. I have simply been much more at peace with Gina here to keep me company. I've very much enjoyed working alongside her on the inventory. It has really helped me find some purpose at last. These things have occupied my time and my mind much more than idle speculation about what news you might bring from Kajistan.'

'So to ponder on the news I bring from that place is "idle speculation"?' He grinned. 'You really know how to deflate a man's ego, my sister! Well, whatever else is happening, it is very good to learn that you are in a much better place and that your spirits have lifted. Now—regardless—I will tell all.'

With her tummy full of fluttering butterflies, Gina held onto her drinking glass as though it was an anchor in wildly stormy seas. Again, her appetite for any sustenance other than Zahir's drugging, passionate kisses fled.

'As you know, I had talked about the possibility of marriage with the Emir's daughter.'

'And I believe I told you I did not think that was such a good idea,' the girl at Gina's side piped up accusingly.

At the side of Zahir's bronzed cheekbone a muscle ticked irritably. 'As always, sister, your views are never kept hidden from me. In a strange sort of way I suppose I appreciate it that you care enough to share them with me.'

The corners of his mouth were duelling with a smile again, and Gina wondered how that was possible when he was just about to break her heart into a million shattered pieces.

'All right, Zahir. Just put us out of our misery and get on with it, will you?'

Now his sister's voice was petulant. In answer, Zahir wiped his hands on his fine linen napkin, then let it drop back down onto the table again. 'My news is that I will not be getting engaged to the Emir's daughter after all.'

'You won't? I mean, you're not?' Farida's brown eyes were twin mirrors of stunned surprise.

Meanwhile, after the unbearable tension of waiting for his announcement, Gina almost crumpled with relief.

With a heartfelt sigh, Zahir studied both girls. 'The most surprising thing happened. I learned that the Emir does not want to relegate his beloved only daughter to a loveless marriage—no matter how influential or beneficial. It seems he is much influenced by the legend attached to our infamous family jewel, and is breaking with his family's tradition by now believing that she should only marry a man who adores her. Also, he does not believe it would be a good thing for a descendant of my father to go against the prophecy and marry merely for convenience or dynastic alliance. He admitted he fears possible "supernatural" repercussions if I were to go against it. So...' an intriguing but puzzling little half-smile played about his lips '...it seems there will be no dynastic marriage to bring our two powerful kingdoms together after all.'

'That's wonderful!'

At her brother's reproving glance Farida blushed, then quickly tried to play down her obvious delight.

'I don't mean it's wonderful that our kingdoms will not benefit from a marriage between our houses. I just mean that it's great that the Emir believes his daughter should only marry a man who adores her. I am happy for her...that's what I meant. Underneath her dull exterior she's a sweet girl, and deserves to be in love.'

'You are happy for her, are you? What about your poor brother?' Zahir's silky dark eyes belied his reprimanding tone. They were positively twinkling...

'Perhaps...perhaps you could revise your opinion about the jewel and open your mind to the possibility of being with someone that you adore as well, Zahir? It's not outside the bounds of feasibility that a woman—a lovely woman—might fall in love with you.'

His powerful shoulders lifted in what might have been a resigned shrug. 'Maybe... It is definitely a consideration.' The smile now touching his lips grew wider. 'In fact, it would not be a lie to admit that I am coming round to believing that perhaps it is completely the right thing to do after all...to marry a woman I adore and cherish.'

As he finished speaking his dark chocolate gaze was drawn to Gina. And as her hungry eyes were magnetized by his she felt them well helplessly with tears.

'Gina and I found our great-great-grandmother's journal, and in it she mentions the Heart of Courage,' Farida related eagerly. 'She affirms that she had total belief in the truth of the prophecy because all our ancestors before her had enjoyed very happy, successful marriages, and most of them died of natural causes. There was no mention of any terrible tragedies being visited upon them.' She took a deep breath, and her smile was wistful and sad for a moment. 'It was a terrible blow for me to lose Azhar...but I will not rail at the heavens for it. I think that would be sheer arrogance—because clearly I do not know the mind of the Divine, or for what reason Azhar was taken from me so young. But just because that happened to me, Zahir, it does not mean that it will happen to you. You mustn't spend your whole life dreading such a thing. As for our parents—we already know that Father had a weak heart. It simply gave way because Mother died. It was his time...'

Reaching across the table, Zahir tenderly covered his sister's small hand with his own much larger one. 'You are very brave, Farida...I am truly blessed to have such a one as you as my sister. I know Azhar was the love of your life, but perhaps, given time, you might open your heart to the possibility of loving again? You are young yet, and have too much to offer to be alone.'

Relaxing back in his chair, he almost immediately moved his attention to Gina again. His intense examination of her gave her goosebumps. It made the hope rising inside her almost bubble over—just as though she had imbibed too much champagne. She felt quite heady with joy. Yet an old fear that she might not get her heart's desire after all dampened it down a little. Whoever heard of a boring academic marrying the handsomest Sheikh in the world? it mocked.

Determined to ignore it, she pulled her glance determinedly away from the strong, handsome face at the opposite side of the table, to contemplate the delicious selection of food on her plate instead.

'You are hungry, Gina?'

Zahir's tone was teasing but she found she didn't mind it...didn't mind it at all. 'I am as a matter of fact,' she admitted shyly.

'Then, seeing as I do not want to be responsible far my treasured guest fainting with hunger, please go ahead and eat. You too, Farida.'

The grin hijacking his wonderful features elevated his handsome face to the most stunning male visage Gina had ever seen, and for a few moments it was all but impossible for her to look anywhere else.

'Let us enjoy this wonderful feast that my sister has organised for us,' he continued. 'There will be plenty of time for conversation afterwards.'

'A thousand apologies, Your Highness.' The twin doors opened abruptly, and Jamal appeared. He went straight to Zahir.

'What is it?'

'A telephone call from the house of Masoud.'

The rest of the servant's explanation was in their own language, and both Gina and Farida tensed as Zahir stood up from the table and threw down his napkin. As he surveyed them, his dark eyes were fever-bright. Was that fear she saw reflected there? Gina thought anxiously.

'I have to go out, I'm afraid,' he said. 'My secretary Masoud has taken a sudden turn for the worse. Please try and enjoy your food without me, and I will see you both later.' Turning to Jamal, he laid his hand on the other man's shoulder. 'I am charging you to look after my sister and my guest,' he said clearly.

As he swept towards the door, his handsome profile grimly resolute, Gina shot up from her seat and rushed round the table towards him. 'Zahir!' She stopped him in his tracks, and for a jittery moment wondered at her own audacity.

'What's wrong?' he asked, not without a hint of impatience.

'Let me go with you.'

'That is out of the question.'

'Please... I've heard in your voice how highly you regard Masoud, and I thought—I thought I might be able to be of some help.'

'Help? How? A medical doctor is what I need right now—not an expert in antiquities!'

Ignoring his barbed retort, Gina pressed on. 'I don't like the thought of you keeping a lonely vigil. At least if I was there you'd have someone to share your thoughts and concerns with. Please, won't you change your mind and let me go with you?'

'No. I want you to stay here with Farida. Like I said before, I will see you both later.' And with that he swept through the double doors and was gone.