‘I am content.’ Ignoring the cup of milk in his hand, she wound her arms around him, completely uninhibited. ‘The desert is growing on me. I like some of its inhabitants.’
His senses over whelmed by the scent of her hair and the warmth of her body, Zafiq stood stiffly, bemused by the feelings that besieged him. Accustomed to people treating him with the appropriate degree of deference and distance, he found her tactile, affectionate nature faintly disturbing. She had no idea how she was supposed to behave with him.
And he had no idea how to behave with her.
Struggling against his natural tendency to keep people at a distance, he finally lifted his hand to stroke her back but she’d already pulled away, her cheeks flushed and her eyes suddenly guarded, as if his lack of response had injured her.
‘So—’ her tone was a shade cooler than it had been a moment earlier ‘—what are we going to do today?’
What he wanted to do was drag her back against him but his years of ruthless self-discipline acted like chains, preventing him from freely expressing his emotions. He took refuge in the practical. ‘You need to eat—’
‘Is this break fast? I’ve lost track—’ She gazed at the mug in his hand and her lips curved into a cheeky smile. ‘What’s that you’re holding? Milk sheikh?’ Glancing at his face, she shrugged. ‘Sorry. That’s my last sheikh joke, I promise. And I’ll behave. I know you want solitude so I’ll just stay here for the rest of the day and you can go and do whatever it is you do when you’re by yourself.’
Zafiq looked up at the position of the sun and gauged whether he still had time to ride before the sun grew too hot for the horses.
‘We will eat and then ride together.’ He had no idea what made him make the suggestion but suddenly solitude seemed less appealing than having this gorgeous, spirited woman by his side when he rode.
‘Do you only ever give orders?’ Taking the milk from him, she knelt down on the rug with easy grace and helped herself to a date from the bowl he’d prepared. ‘Mmm. I love these. They’re completely different from the ones at home.’
‘Are you a confident rider?’
She nibbled the rich, dark flesh of the date and licked her fingers. ‘Is that a serious question?’
Blinded by a sudden vision of her straddling him, Zafiq tensed, shocked into silence by the sheer force of his response to her.
She looked at him expectantly. ‘I won’t fall off the horse if that’s what’s worrying you.’ Her expression was slightly puzzled, as if she was trying to work out what he was thinking. ‘I’ve ridden since I was a child.’
‘Your last experience on the back of a horse wasn’t a huge success.’
‘The riding was fine—it was my sense of direction that was at fault.’ Her fingers closed round another date. ‘Well, the horse’s sense of direction wasn’t anything to write home about either, but I suppose that’s not her fault. The desert looks the same in every direction.’
‘On the contrary, it is a varied landscape if you keep your eyes open.’
‘That’s where I was going wrong…’ Bella finished her milk and ate a piece of the bread he’d prepared. ‘I collapsed unconscious and I haven’t yet learned to do that with my eyes open. This food is absolutely delicious, thank you.’
Zafiq found it impossible to look away from her. Kneeling on the rug she was like some pagan goddess—lean and supple, fit and strong, her long limbs a warm honey gold under the hot desert sun. Even without access to a bathroom mirror and a bag full of cosmetics, she dazzled. And she was a woman who knew how to use her looks. The fact that, right now, she was too busy gorging on dates and licking her fingers to worry about seduction made her all the more seductive.