Woman in a Sheikh's World

‘Damsels in distress don’t usually give the orders. And I was in the tent. You were the one who chose scorpions over my company. Are you telling me that you’re rethinking that choice?’

‘Don’t be flattered. All it means is that you’re better than a scorpion. Don’t make me beg.’ She clung, her hands pressed to those solid shoulders. ‘Are you laughing?’

‘No.’

‘Good, because if you were laughing, I’d have to punch you with my good hand. My other hand hurts. Am I going to die?’

‘It is rare for scorpion bites to cause fatalities.’

‘Rare? So that means that sometimes people die, right?’

His hesitation was brief. ‘Yes, but it’s usually only in the very young or in people with health issues and you don’t fall into either category.’

‘That’s not very reassuring. You’re supposed to say, “No, Avery, of course you’re not going to die.” Why don’t men ever know the right thing to say at the right moment?’

‘If men said the right thing at the right moment, we’d be women.’ He ducked inside the tent, lowered her onto a sleeping roll he’d laid out for himself and gently detached himself from her grip. The movement brought their faces very close together. She could feel his breath on her cheek. All she had to do was turn her head and their mouths would meet. And she didn’t have to wonder how that would feel because she knew. And he knew, too.

Their eyes met and she saw the heat in his and knew he would see the same in hers because the chemistry was there, as powerful as ever. It sucked at her stomach and brushed over her skin, making her crave the impossible. She hadn’t kissed a man since him and she missed him terribly.

It was a dangerous moment and it felt as if it lasted for ever. In reality it was less than a couple of seconds and she was about to push him away when he turned away from her, suddenly brisk and efficient.

‘Do you normally react to bee stings or wasp stings?’

The only thing she reacted to was him.

Her mouth was so dry it felt as if she’d fallen face down in the desert. ‘I have no idea. I’ve never been stung by either before.’ The chemistry between them had shaken her almost as much as the scorpion bite. She felt vulnerable, and she hated feeling vulnerable. The last time she’d felt like this was when they’d split up.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘My hand throbs.’ She squinted down at it and he hesitated for a moment and then slid back the sleeve of her shirt and studied it under the light. His fingers were strong and firm and she had to concentrate on keeping still. On not responding.

He wasn’t hers any more. And she wasn’t his.

Avery stared at his bent head; at the glossy dark hair that flopped over his forehead. She knew exactly how it would feel if she sank her hands into it because she’d done that. She’d trailed her mouth over his skin and tasted him. Everywhere.

As if feeling her thoughts, he lifted his head and she jerked back slightly, feeling guilty even though all she’d done was look.

The man was marrying Kalila. The fact that they seemed to barely know each other wasn’t her business. The fact that Kalila had run away wasn’t her business.

Studying her hand, he muttered something under his breath. ‘I should have used the ultraviolet torch out there.’

‘And how would that have helped?’

‘There is a compound in the exoskeleton of the scorpion that causes it to glow in UV light.’ He adjusted the light to get a better look. ‘It means that we can see where they are. They show up as a ghostly green colour.’

Avery looked away so that she couldn’t see his hand touching hers. Bronze against creamy white. Male against female. ‘That is disgusting. How do you even know these things?’

‘This is my country. It is my business to know.’

‘Ghostly green scorpions.’ She shuddered. ‘I’m almost glad I couldn’t see them. Remind me why I came?’

‘Because you wanted to help Kalila. Tell me how badly it hurts.’

‘I don’t know—worse than a headache, better than the time I bounced off the trampoline and smashed my head on the floor of the school gym. Do you mind not frowning? Frowning means you’re worried or that there is something seriously wrong. By the way, my hand feels as if it’s on fire. Is that OK?’

Mal’s mouth tightened. ‘I should have made you come into the tent sooner.’

‘I didn’t want to do that.’