Bella and the Merciless Sheikh

‘What do you know about the Sheikh?’

‘Very little. But Atif told me you spend a week every year in the desert.’ She gave a soft gasp of understanding. ‘That’s why you don’t want a search party, isn’t it? This is your week in the desert and you don’t want anyone to know where you are.’

‘You are making a great number of assumptions.’

‘All of which are right. There’s no need to get defensive. I know all about wanting to avoid people. And I know how to keep secrets.’ Bella rubbed her fingers over her cheeks and grimaced as she felt how dry her skin was. ‘I’ll do you a deal. I won’t say I saw you, if you don’t say you saw me.’

‘This is not a joke.’

‘Neither is my headache.’ Exhausted from the conversation, Bella flopped back onto the bed and closed her eyes. ‘Stop glaring at me. You’re very bad tempered. That’s what meditation does for you. You should try thinking less.’

‘Perhaps you should try thinking more, and then you would not find yourself in such scrapes.’

Deciding that it was time to get herself out of this mess, Bella swung her legs out of bed, stood and promptly collapsed in an undignified heap on the floor of the tent. ‘Oops. Horizontal again and I haven’t even had a drink.’ She kept up the banter, too proud to admit how ill she felt. ‘Look, just point me towards Al—whatever it’s called, and I’ll be out of your way. You can go back to your life and I can go back to mine.’ Although what she was going to do with no source of income, she had no idea. Her father had cut off her allowance.

If she was at home she would have called one of the glossy magazines and offered herself for a cover shoot, but that wasn’t exactly an option in the desert.

Did anyone employ models in this part of the world?

Even if they did, they weren’t going to find her attractive at the moment.

He obviously didn’t.

Strong hands lifted her to her feet. ‘Given that you don’t have the strength to cross the tent, how do you propose to make this journey safely?’

‘Just lend me a horse. I’ll be fine.’ Overcome by a wave of dizziness, Bella looked for something to lean on. The only solid object seemed to be his chest, so she used that. Feeling hard muscle and solid male strength, awareness sliced through her, taking her by surprise. ‘You smell really good,’ she muttered. ‘But I guess women tell you that all the time.’

He said something in a language she didn’t understand and the next minute he’d released her and she crumpled to the floor in a heap again.

‘All right, maybe women don’t tell you that all the time.’

He’d pushed her away. Men never pushed her away.

It was always the other way round.

Still battling with the terrible dizziness, she risked a glance at him and clashed with furious black eyes.

‘You have no idea how to behave.’

‘You’re right.’ Bella dug her nails into her legs, fighting back a sudden rush of nausea. Oh, God, she felt hideously ill. And she was stuck with a man with a bad attitude and a dagger. ‘You’d better get rid of me. Just lend me a horse and I’m out of here.’

‘I will not lend you a horse.’

‘Why not?’ Her pride severely dented by his rejection, Bella suddenly wished she had access to her bathroom at Balfour Manor. And her hairdresser. Then this arrogant man wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to push her away. Deciding that extra charm was needed to compensate for her sun burned face and sandy hair, she treated him to her most seductive smile. ‘You don’t need two horses. That’s just greedy.’