Bella and the Merciless Sheikh

Zafiq felt the heat streak through his body. And he’d ordered her to spend the day with him. Was he mad? ‘The trousers you were wearing yesterday are dry now. Put them on. It will be more comfortable and protect your legs.’ And his sanity. ‘And stay in my tracks.’

‘What happens if I don’t?’

‘Amira goes into deep sand and breaks a leg,’ Zafiq said bluntly and saw horror cross her features.

‘Right. I’ll follow you, then.’

‘So you will behave for the horse, but not for me?’ He was once again forced to rethink his initial assessment of her as selfish and shallow. Whether she realised it or not, she was constantly revealing glimpses of the soft, caring woman under the defiant, independent exterior.

‘I’ve always been better with horses than people. I find them more straight for ward.’

Zafiq paused with his hand on the stallion’s head, wondering what she meant by that remark. Curious, he turned to look at her but she was making a fuss of the horse, her profile revealing nothing. She looked young. Vulnerable.

Reminding himself that there was no room in his life for a woman like her, Zafiq turned back to his horse. ‘You need to change your clothes.’

He heard the soft tread of her foot steps as she walked away, but she was back only moments later, dressed in the cotton trousers she’d been wearing when he’d rescued her, her long hair now falling in a thick plait between her shoulder blades, secured by another strand taken from a date palm. For ingenuity, he couldn’t fault her.

‘Wear a scarf over your mouth and nose.’ Handing her a length of soft cloth, he showed her how to wind it around her face so that it protected her from the sand.

Just when he was confident he had his reactions firmly under control, she lowered her eye lashes seductively. ‘Do I look mysterious? Is this where I do the dance of the seven scarves?’

Heat ripped through him, sharp and dangerous as a blade. Gritting his teeth, Zafiq secured the fabric and stepped back from her. ‘You are obsessed with harems and dancing.’ But the scarf simply accentuated her beautiful eyes and he caught her by the waist, virtually flung her onto the back of the mare, before turning away abruptly.

Never before had he struggled to stay in control. He’d taken it as an indication of his own strength but now he realised that his control had never been truly tested. Until now.

Vaulting onto his stallion, Zafiq gathered up the reins and turned to look at her. She sat easily on the horse, as lean and athletic as she’d been in the pool. And she watched him with those dangerously beautiful eyes.

‘So what are we going to do?’

‘I’m going to show you that there’s a world beyond your laptop and your iPod.’ His eyes clashed with hers and for a disturbing moment the future loomed in the back ground, a stark reminder that this wasn’t his life. Or hers. Just an interlude. And then he reminded himself that the future had no place in what they shared. This was about the moment. This was about now. ‘I’m going to show you the desert.’

CHAPTER SIX

BELLA urged Amira faster, screwing up her eyes as the horse’s hooves pounded the sand into a golden mist. Ahead of her, the Sheikh’s powerful stallion thundered across the desert and she gave a shout of laughter because each time she did this it gave her the most incredible high.

It felt fantastic to be back on a horse, and riding in the desert was the most exciting, exhilarating experience to be had.

She’d ridden out with Zafiq every morning and evening for the past three days and she couldn’t remember ever being so happy. When they weren’t riding they were making love or cooling off in the still waters of the beautiful pool or nibbling dates and talking.