His Queen by Desert Decree

Curiosity infiltrated Azrael. ‘What did you do?’

‘I was only fourteen but I was convinced that I could become a professional musician and I ran away from home. I planned to go to London and lose myself before embracing fame,’ she confided with a rueful grimace at the naivety of that dream, built entirely on the back of the small fact that she was a good pianist.

‘Why?’ he asked simply.

Molly swallowed hard, reluctant to share more. ‘My stepmother was hurting me and it was getting worse.’

Azrael was frowning. ‘How was she hurting you?’ he demanded.

‘She’d pinch me and pull my hair and slap my face and although I told my father, he wouldn’t do anything about it. She said that I was cheeky but I wasn’t. I had long since learned to keep quiet around her and try not to annoy her but it didn’t change anything,’ she confided ruefully. ‘In the end, I went to live with my grandfather and I never saw my dad again. He didn’t stay in touch.’

Azrael was listening, watching her with dark liquid deep-set eyes that glittered in the firelight. ‘That is sad. Although my father died when I was only a boy I was very close to him.’

‘At least you have some happy memories. Mine are all of times with my grandfather,’ Molly told him. ‘I was very lucky that I had him to support me.’

‘His illness must distress you.’

Molly shrugged a slim shoulder. ‘I’m used to it now and I’m grateful to still have him alive. He’s the only family I’ve got left.’

Azrael studied her with brooding force, admiring the clarity of her green eyes in her flushed heart-shaped face. ‘Were you serious when you said you would not be pressing charges against Tahir?’ he prompted.

Molly shook her head and groaned out loud. ‘Are you always so distrustful? So suspicious? So reluctant to accept good news?’

‘It’s bred in the bone,’ Azrael admitted without apology.

‘It’s unhealthy,’ Molly contradicted.

‘If you are serious, I thank you for your restraint and generosity.’

‘It’s not generosity, Azrael,’ Molly countered with a wince. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t forgiven him. I just feel that having a teenager prosecuted for such a crime would be overkill. He probably thought he knew what he was doing but he didn’t, and he didn’t consider the future either. I’ve been there. I’ve done that. And as you said, I wasn’t harmed.’

‘Obviously you will be compensated for your kindness,’ Azrael slotted in smoothly, disliking the conviction that he owed her a debt for her change of heart on his brother’s behalf.

And that assurance was the last straw for Molly in the emotional mood she was in. She reared up in a temper. ‘I didn’t change my mind for the money!’ she proclaimed furiously. ‘Is that what you think? Obviously, that’s what you think! Well, you’re wrong, Azrael, totally, absolutely wrong!’

‘You’re shouting again,’ Azrael remarked chillingly. ‘Shouting is rude and unnecessary.’

‘Oh, go to hell!’ Molly launched back at him, out of all patience and stomping down the cave towards the rug that lay on the sand. ‘I’m going to sleep. Wake me when we’re being rescued! Otherwise, please forget I’m here!’

CHAPTER FIVE

AZRAEL GRITTED HIS teeth and watched Molly shiver while she slept. Never had he met such a hot-tempered woman. She went off like a rocket every time he offended her. She had gone off like a rocket in his arms as well, he recalled helplessly, his aching body hardening in enthusiastic recollection of her soft, silky skin and gloriously inviting mouth. In angry denial of that weakness, he stalked down the length of the cave and covered her with the cloak he had wrapped her in earlier.

Naturally he had assumed that the offer of financial compensation had slowly worked on her to change her mind. What else was he supposed to think? Now instead of feeling relief that Djalia was safe from a huge international scandal, he was in a rage. What was it about her that aggravated him to such an extent? Made him stumble into tactless speech and assumptions? He, the consummate diplomat, who had learned to watch every word he spoke from an early age! But he was no diplomat in Molly’s radius. She got under his skin. She infuriated him but she was also incredibly exciting. He had never experienced that livewire connection with a woman before. He dredged his eyes from her slight figure in frustration and looked longingly at the pool, which would give his overheated body the coolness he craved.

With a wary eye in her direction he stripped and bathed for the second time that day. She might be cold but he was much too hot and the dust clogging the air and falling on every surface made him feel unclean. Freshened up, he unrolled his bedding by the fire and with a suppressed groan stalked down to check on his guest again. He touched her hand and it felt like ice and he swore under his breath. Taking a deep breath, he bent down and lifted her, praying that she wouldn’t wake and assume that he was making some kind of sexual approach when his sole concern was that if she got any colder she might develop pneumonia or some such thing. She weighed very little, which he thought was a sign of fragility and unhealthiness. No wonder she was feeling the cold so badly. Keeping her wrapped in the cloak, he lay down with her and almost groaned again. Once she recovered her body heat, she would make him too warm.

Molly stirred, aware of the hard ground below her hip and the furnace-like heat at her back that made her feel deliciously cosy. She curled back into that reassuring warmth with a drowsy sigh.

‘Be still. It is not yet dawn,’ a familiar voice intoned, far too close for comfort.

‘Azrael?’ she squeaked in consternation.

‘Who else?’

‘Well, I don’t know, do I?’ Molly snapped defensively. ‘I went to sleep alone.’

‘You were shivering with cold. I had to do something.’