Bella and the Merciless Sheikh
A slow, heavy weakness spread through her limbs but she knew that the lethargy had nothing to do with her recent spell in the desert and the feeling shocked her because she never felt anything for men. She used them, the way they used her.
His gaze held hers. ‘I’ll escort you back to the city—’
Hypnotised by his velvety dark eyes, Bella felt a rush of relief. ‘Thank you so much, you’re a really wonderful person. I knew it the moment you walked into the tent. I knew that all that scary warrior stuff was all an act. And that dagger is obviously ornamental. I bet it isn’t even sharp—’
‘Do you always interrupt people?’
‘Often,’ Bella breathed, distracted by the beauty of his eyes. ‘Sorry, what were we saying? Oh, yes…interrupting—it’s one of my many faults. But I’m working on it.’
‘Then you might like to work a little harder.’ His thumb traced a circle over her cheek. ‘I said that I’ll escort you back to the city—’
‘I heard you. And I—’ Bella felt his fingers cover her lips and she felt the instant response of her body.
‘—at the end of my stay here,’ he said softly, a trace of mockery gleaming in his eyes as he finished his sentence. ‘Once a year I am given the chance to be alone. I will not relinquish that luxury for any one. I will not change my plans for a woman.’
Bella made a sound in her throat but his fingers still covered her lips.
‘Which gives you two choices.’ He spoke in a deceptively gentle voice. ‘Either you can try and make your own way on foot—and if you do that I calculate you’ll be dead in an hour or so—or you stay here with me until it suits me to return you to Al-Rafid.’
CHAPTER THREE
ZAFIQ withdrew his hand from her lips, fighting an in explicable temptation to replace it with his mouth. ‘Those are your options. Pick one.’
Anger flared inside him but the anger was directed towards himself and his own weakness.
Despite her ordeal, she was more alluring than any other woman he’d ever encountered, and his jaw tightened because she was a woman who knew how to use her gifts and he despised the fact that he was susceptible to her practised flirtation.
The rigid self-control and discipline on which he prided himself suddenly seemed like a flimsy, fragile thing. It was like going into battle and discovering that your armour was made of paper.
Perhaps, he mused grimly, he’d never been really tested before.
Was that what this week of reflection and personal time was going to be about? His own weakness?
Was he about to discover that he was, after all, just like his father?
His initial suspicions that she was part of the conspiracy to steal his horse had been eliminated by her explanation. It was galling to acknowledge that he might actually have to be grateful to her because it seemed that she’d in advertently foiled a serious crime. By ‘borrowing’ Amira she had clearly prevented the threatened kidnap by a matter of minutes. Contemplating the reaction of the criminals who had been planning to steal his horse, he gave a grim smile. They must have had a shock to discover that someone had already done the job for them.
He was determined to keep his precious mare safe in his care until he was due to return to the city.
Which meant keeping the girl too.
Zafiq watched as various emotions flickered across her beautiful face.
Even with sand in her golden hair she was gorgeous. She reminded him of a princess from one of the fairy stories he’d read to his younger sisters when they were small. Only less sweet natured. A sulky princess. Now that he’d thwarted her plans to escape from the desert, he could see her struggling to hold back her temper. She was fiery and full of fight and he wondered what she was hiding.