One Desert Night

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 him.

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.

'I have a proposition for you.' His dark-eyed glance didn't waver. 'That's what I wanted to see you about.'

'And that is?'

'I'm not going to waste time play acting and pretending I don't desire you, so I will get straight to the point. Many wealthy and powerful men in my position take a mistress. I haven't done so yet because I have never met a woman to meet all my requirements in every way. That is not until you came into my life again, Gina. I would like you to stay here in Kabuyadir. If you stayed you would not want for anything…ever. Anything you wanted that it was within my power to give you, you would have.'

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Beneath her robe her heart thudded painfully. Moving away from the side of the bed, she tucked a loose tendril of shining blonde hair back. 'I gather I'm meant to take such an offer as a compliment?'

'At least it shows I am not rejecting you as you so easily rejected me. At least I am being honest about the fact that I want you in my bed again.'

'Lust is a poor substitute for genuinely caring about someone, Zahir.' She wouldn't say the word 'love' in his presence…not yet. Not while he was clearly intent on somehow making her pay for not returning to him three years ago. Still she would not close the distance between them, and a soft sight escaped her. 'Do you think I should settle for that because you feel I owe you in some way? Anyway, I can't stay here indefinitely. Once I've given you all the information I have on the jewel—and seen it for myself—I'll be heading home again. I have a job to get back to—a job that I've wanted for a long time and worked hard to get. I also have a father who hasn't been very well lately, so I'm afraid you'll just have to find someone else to fill the position of Sheikh's mistress.' She started to walk across the marble-tiled floor towards the door.

'Gina!'

His call stopped her in her tracks. Alarmed, she turned to see that Zahir had moved to the edge of the bed and was getting to his feet. She saw him sway a little, and dashed back to his side.

'What do you think you are doing? For goodness' sake, get back to bed before you do some irreparable damage to yourself!'

'What do you care?' he retorted sulkily, reluctantly allowing her to help him lie down and rest his head against the stack of plump pillows again. 'You would leave on the first plane home without caring whether I lived or died.'

'Don't be ridiculous.'

'You sound just like an old spinster teacher of mine. Of course you don't look like her in any way. Do you know what torment it is to me to have you so close, to smell your perfume and not be able to touch you the way I long to? It is a double agony for this to have happened to me today. Now not only am I sexually frustrated but I'm in physical pain from a blasted bullet wound, too! It will take more than a strong sleeping pill to make me sleep tonight.'

The strong bronzed brow crumpled a little in obvious pain, and Gina tenderly pushed back the hair from his smooth unlined forehead and frowned. 'Why did you have to go and deal with this trouble yourself? I wish you'd sent someone else instead—the captain of your army perhaps? Someone used to dealing with these volatile situations?'

'You think I am incapable of dealing with a physical threat from a few hot-headed rebels?'

'I'm not questioning your ability for combat, Zahir. You certainly look intimidating and strong enough. But it seems like a reckless thing to have done when you didn't have to.'

He tensed and gave her a fierce glare. 'And how would you know what I do and don't need to do? I am not just some useless figurehead or cardboard cut-out prince who sits in the palace issuing orders. I am a politician and diplomat, too, and after many months of this rebel faction employing their bullying tactics on peaceful villages it was time to step in and demonstrate once and for all that my kingdom is not going to simply sit back and accept it! Who better to bring that message home to them but the ruler himself?'

'Please don't get so worked up. I'm afraid you'll re-open your wounds if you get too upset.'

'You can go now.'

'What?' Taken aback by the curt dismissal, Gina froze.

'You are both a painful distraction and an annoyance, and what I need right now is some peace and quiet to contemplate the situation and recover.'

'All right, then. I understand.'

Just as she made to leave Zahir reached for her, curving his big hand round the back of her neck to pull her face down to his. His angry kiss was hot, hard and passionate, with no pretence at being anything other than punishing.

'Now you can go.'

His glittering dark-eyed glance made her limbs feel heavy as lead. Reaching the door, she exited the sumptuous room hardly knowing how she managed it…



A wounded bear was said to be dangerous. The following morning, walking alone in his private garden, Zahir felt his wounds throbbing and painful, and reflected on the crazy rebel who had inflicted them on him and his bodyguard. He was hurt, angry, and liable to lash out verbally at anyone who dared to come near.

Thankfully his servant Jamal intuited his moods well. The man's patience and understanding seemed to silently embrace even the most unpredictable and sombre shades of his employer's personality. Earlier he had brought Zahir coffee. Thinking of Gina—and how he had treated her last night—he had irrationally flung the small brass tray across the courtyard. Everything had landed in the previously calm waters of the ornamental pond, but Jamal had immediately hurried to retrieve it all and clean up the mess without batting an eyelid.

In an hour's time, after he had been examined again by his physician, Zahir was due to address a meeting of his council regarding the uprising by the rebels. But right now the topic that consumed him even more than that was definitely Gina. He had offered her a situation that most women would have grabbed at—but, no. Not her. Instead she preferred to put her job and her ailing father back at home before him…again!

While he privately had a grudging admiration for her loyalty to both her job and her family, it didn't stop him from feeling intensely jealous and aggrieved that he still clearly featured so low on her list of priorities. But he could not let her leave so easily. He had to find a way of making her stay in Kabuyadir for longer than just a few short days. After seeing her again he knew he would not easily get her out of his blood a second time—no matter how angry he was.

'Zahir!'

A slight, dark-robed figure was hurrying towards him along the paved pathway, arms extended. As his sister reached him, she all but stole the breathe from his lungs when she threw herself into her arms. Zahir couldn't stop the grunt of pain he emitted as her body collided with the inflamed bandaged wound at the side of his ribcage.

As she stepped back in alarm, he saw the damp smudge beneath Farida's pretty eyes—evidence that she'd already been weeping.

'I couldn't believe it when I heard that you'd been shot. Why didn't somebody tell me? Was it because you ordered them not to? I'm not some little child you have to constantly protect, you know. I was a married woman until recently, and I won't fall apart if I hear bad news—even if it frightens me. What on earth possessed you to travel into the heart of the brigands' stronghold with just a handful of soldiers and a bodyguard?'

Zahir could hardly believe his ears. Here was another woman chastising him for doing his utmost to resolve a situation that was bringing fear and suffering to his people! Had his father's actions been questioned with such doubt and disbelief? He didn't think so.

The scowl on his face was inevitable. 'I had to try and talk to their leader. He's a hot-headed egomaniac, seeking to gain power by getting a band of similar unthinking idiots to rob and intimidate the villagers. In the end—when I saw that reason simply did not compute with him—I gave him a warning that if there was any more trouble I would imprison the lot of them for life. We were just about to make our return home when he pulled out a pistol and started firing.'

'You could have been killed!'

'Yes, but I wasn't.' He rubbed a weary hand across his eyes. 'Please do not fear for my safety so much, little sister. I would hate to think that you were fretting every time I set foot outside the palace walls!'

'But somebody shot you, Zahir. Do your wounds hurt badly?'

Seeing the loving concern on her dear face, Zahir retrieved his sense of humour. 'Not badly. They're inconvenient, more than anything.'

'What do you mean?'

A stirring image of Gina fleshed out nicely in his mind—one in which she was wearing only her bathrobe, her golden hair all mussed and sexy, her cheeks flushed from a steamy bath and the scent of exotic oils clinging to her exquisitely soft skin. Straight away the thought acted as a flaming torch, igniting his blood.

His ensuing smile was almost painful. 'I only mean that I will probably not be as active as I would like for the next few days.'

'What about the man who shot you? What happened to him?'

'Right now he is languishing in a prison cell in the city. He was taken there last night by my guards.'

Farida patted down the silk hijab that covered her hair, neck and shoulders, and looked perturbed. 'There is no chance that one of his men will try and seek revenge and hurt you again, Zahir?'

'If they dare, my punishment will ensure they will never pick up a firearm or a weapon again. Not in this lifetime!'

But even as he contemplated such a repugnant reality, a wave of doubt and concern rolled through him. Had he made a huge error in judgement, thinking that he could reason with such a lawless band? Now wasn't the time to consider such a disturbing notion—not when Farida was so clearly worried and upset.

He laid his arm reassuringly round his sister's slender shoulders. 'The palace is a steadfast fortress that has stood the test of time. No amateur trigger-happy fool is going to get at me here. They would be crazy to even try. Now, enough talk about that. Let us discuss more pleasant things, hmm? What are you planning on doing with yourself this day?'

They were walking back along the shaded pathway, and the balmy agarwood scented air seemed to ease Zahir's troubled mind with its rich and mysterious fragrance as they walked.

'I hope to spend some time with Gina Collins, actually.'

'You have met Dr Collins?' Stopping dead in his tracks, Zahir stared at his sister in surprise.

'Yes, I have met her, and I like her very much. She said something rather wonderful to me about Azhar that gave me great comfort. I don't have many girlfriends around my own age, so it's very nice to have someone like Gina staying at the palace for a while. As you have employed her to make an inventory of some of the more important family artefacts, I thought I might be able to assist her? What do you think?'

The little speech she had just made was so surprising, so unexpected, that it took Zahir a few moments to digest it properly. It was the first time since Farida had been so tragically widowed that she'd shown even the slightest interest in anything other than her own misery. If Gina had been able to effect such a dramatic change—even in the short time she'd been here—what else might her presence be able to achieve? Zahir's mind raced with something that felt very much like hope.

'I am sure that if I speak with her on your behalf she would be only too happy to have your help. Do you by any chance know where she is now?'

'I was just about to go and look for her.'

'Let me do that. Why don't you stay out here for a little while in the shade and relax? When I've discussed your suggestion with Dr Collins I will send Jamal to come and fetch you, okay?'

'She is very pretty brother…don't you think?'

She is beautiful beyond imagining, his mind answered immediately. But Zahir curbed the words that hovered on his tongue for something a little more measured. After all, he didn't think it wise to alert Farida to his deepening interest in Gina—or the fact that he had asked her to become his mistress!

'Yes,' He allowed the briefest smile to touch his lips. 'She is very pretty…clever, too.'

He turned away before he had the urge to elaborate further on all Gina Collins's very appealing attributes…



On returning to her luxurious rooms the previous night, Gina had known that sleep would elude her for the rest of the night-time hours. After her encounter with the man who set her heart racing like no other, finding him injured and then furious when she refused his offer to become his mistress, she'd been both distressed and heartbroken. It shocked her that he had such apparent disregard for his own safety—so much so that he would venture into a lawless region of his kingdom to deal with some gun-toting rebels. Did he not realise how much the people close to him cared for him?



But she was hurt, too, because all he seemed to be interested in as far as she was concerned was appeasing his lust. Had she imagined the tender words and fervent feelings he'd declared when they'd first encountered each other in the Husseins' garden? Then she'd been so sure of his mutual love and affection that she'd given him her most precious gift. Had that meant nothing to him?

At breakfast out on the terrace, she ate very little. Her obvious lack of appetite even prompted Jake to comment.

'Are you feeling all right, Gina? You've got dark circles under your eyes and you've barely touched your food.'

'I'm fine,' she murmured. 'Just a little tired.'

'The heat can do that. Best take things easy today,' her companion responded consolingly.

Beckoning Jamal over to the table, after Jake had returned to his rooms to locate a book, Gina nervously enquired about Zahir's condition. The taciturn servant told her that His Highness was 'comfortable' and back on his feet, but she should be prepared for the possibility that she might not see him at all that day. His physician had told him that he must rest.

She then politely asked if she could use the palace library. Informing her that he was instructed that she and her colleague Dr Rivers should be aided wherever possible to undertake their work, he agreed. If the man had any thoughts about why the Sheikh should have summoned her last night to his private rooms when he had just been injured, neither by word nor deed did he give them away.

A library had always represented a comforting safe place to Gina. Often, during her childhood, she had taken refuge there when life had felt hard and there hadn't seemed to be a lot of love or affection going round. Books were her friends—constant loving companions that didn't let her down.

Zahir's library took her breath away. It was a repository for the written word that only the richest and most devoted imagination could conjure up. Shelf upon shelf of books ancient and modern confronted her, practically reaching up to the sky. Amid the shelves of books were sumptuous couches and chairs in which a browser could relax and peruse the book they'd selected. The ambience was not unlike that of a breathtaking cathedral, with a high-vaulted ceiling made of sandstone and granite interspersed with mosaic.

Gina had a plan. She was going to try and delve more deeply into Zahir's family, going right back through as many generations as possible. There must be hundreds of history books on the region here, chronicling the dynasty through the centuries. If luck was on her side she might even come across old family journals…they would be her primary sources. She wanted to discover as much extra information as she could on the family's association with the famed Heart of Courage, but she had to be discreet. If Zahir found out what she was doing he could very well put her on the next plane home and forbid her from visiting Kabuyadir again…

'There you are.'



Immersed in the pages of a fascinating book she'd pulled from a shelf, Gina spun round in shock at the sound of Zahir's voice. He was as imposing as usual, in his dark robes and broad leather belt, his ebony hair like a velvety dark river rippling down over his shoulders. Straight away she noticed there was a light sheen of sweat on his brow, and she realised he must be in pain.

'What are you doing up and about? Shouldn't you be resting after what happened?' Anxiously she clutched the dusty volume she'd been examining to her chest. A ray of sunlight beamed in through the cathedral-like narrow windows and warmed her back.

'I've been walking in the garden, getting some air. I cannot stay confined to my bed for twenty-four hours a day just because I took a couple of small flesh wounds. Jamal told me I would find you here. What do you think of my library?'

'It's truly magnificent. A person could spend a lifetime in here and barely get through the books on even one shelf.'

Her comment drew the hint of a smile to his lips. Moving towards her, he moved his hand briefly to his side.

'Are you hurting?' she asked. The distressed catch in her voice sounded loud to her own ears.

'That question is a double-edged sword. The truth is that my pride is stinging just as much as my physical wounds.'

'Why's that?'

'I…' He seemed to swiftly reconsider what he'd been going to say and lightly jerked his head towards the book Gina pressed to the white silk of her blouse. 'What have you got there?'

'It's a history of the Byzantine empire.' She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn't discovered her with an incriminating family journal, but she still couldn't help colouring guiltily.

'A little light reading, eh?' he joked, brown eyes twinkling.

Her insides melted like butter over a hot stove. Staring back at him, she fell into a hypnotic semi-trance.

'I am sorry I treated you as I did last night,' he murmured, 'my behaviour was reprehensible.'

Now he was tipping up Gina's chin, gazing at her as though he, too, was hypnotised.

'You were hurt and angry…I understand, Zahir. I understand and I forgive you. But right now you clearly should be resting—not up and about like this, putting a strain on your wounds.'

She held her breath as his fingers moved across her cheek and into her hair. 'Could any man blame me for wanting you so much?' he said, and his usually strong voice sounded distinctly unsteady.