Bella and the Merciless Sheikh

She was used to fending men off, not chasing after them.

Telling herself that if he didn’t want to look at her, then he could face the opposite direction, Bella stalked out of the tent.

The throb in her head was growing steadily worse again but she was too proud to ask if he had any tablets.

‘I have made you tea.’ His deep voice came from a few metres away and she turned to look at him, noticing that he’d built a fire.

‘If it’s herbal tea, I might just have to kill you.’ Bella rubbed her hands up her arms, wondering how it was possible to feel shivery in the desert. ‘I don’t suppose you have anything more interesting to drink? Champagne?’

He didn’t smile. ‘It’s Bedouin tea.’

‘What’s Bedouin tea? Tea you drink before you go to bed?’ Still cross with him, she knelt down gingerly on the rug he’d placed on the sand, determined not to show how bad she felt.

‘It’s made from tea leaf, sugar and desert herbs—’ He poured some of the dark liquid into a cup and handed it to her. ‘It has a very distinctive flavour. Try it.’

‘I’ve drunk more tea in the past two weeks than I’ve had in my whole life.’ Bella sniffed the tea cautiously, took a sip and wrinkled her nose. ‘It tastes…different. I hadn’t imagined you drinking tea—’

‘It is customary to drink tea with a guest and share stories and news. The Bedouin are very hospitable people. And excellent story tellers.’

‘So tell me a story. But make sure it has a happy ending. No drama or misery. A few fairy princesses wouldn’t go amiss.’ She’d had more than enough drama lately to last her a lifetime. ‘Tell me about the Bedouin. They’re nomadic, aren’t they? So are you rediscovering your tribal roots?’

‘The sheikh is basically the leader of the tribe.’

‘All-powerful. Do people shake when they see you coming? Get it? Shake…sheikh…?’ Her voice trailed off. She grinned at him, her hands curled round the mug, eyeing the austere lines of his handsome face. ‘You don’t smile much, do you?’

‘I smile when I’m amused.’

Refusing to be daunted, Bella blew gently on her tea. ‘You need to lighten up and take life less seriously.’

‘Perhaps you need to take it more seriously. Then you wouldn’t find yourself dying of heat stroke and thirst, or stranded alone in the desert with a stranger.’

‘So what amuses you? You said you smile when you’re amused. So I’m wondering what makes you laugh. Obviously not my appalling sheikh jokes.’ She took another sip of tea and decided that the taste was growing on her. ‘When was the last time you collapsed with laughter? You know, laughed so hard you couldn’t speak—laughed so hard you almost cracked a rib.’

The fire crackled and a whisper of smoke curled into the air. ‘I can’t recall ever having “collapsed with laughter” and amusement has never affected my ability to converse.’

‘Don’t people ever make jokes around you?’

‘Never.’

‘Because you’re so intimidating, I suppose.’ Seriously worried by how ill she felt, Bella curled her legs to one side. ‘What do you do to relax, then? Parties? Do you sheikh rock and roll?’

A muscle flickered in his lean, angular jaw. ‘You just can’t help yourself, can you?’

‘No. I can’t. Sorry. I’m trying to make you laugh but I know when I’m beaten, Your Highness,’ Bella said flippantly, really disconcerted by the fact he hadn’t smiled at a single one of her jokes. Used to being the centre of attention wherever she went, she didn’t know how to react to him.