The Sultan's Harem Bride

‘Asim? Are you all right?’ Samira clutched his arm, her expression concerned.

‘Of course.’

He almost laughed aloud that he could lie so smoothly. Far from being all right, he was ashamed of himself. How could he have got it so wrong?

CHAPTER TWELVE

JACQUI WAS SITTING by the campfire when she heard the four-wheel drive.

She hadn’t tried sleeping. How could she when her mind churned over Asim’s accusations? Instead she huddled into her jacket as if that could counteract the chill that spread from her bones rather than from the pre-dawn desert air.

She’d thought to get away somewhere isolated and quiet. Solitude had always helped when things were tough. But now all she felt was alone.

Had Asim taken that from her? The last of her resilience?

The idea scared her almost as much as the slashing pain that tore through her when he’d looked at her with distaste and accused her of treachery.

The hum of sound became a roar as a vehicle crested the dune, headlights flooding her campsite. She clambered to her feet, one hand up to protect her eyes, her movements as slow and stiff as an old woman’s.

The headlights dipped as the vehicle rolled towards her and for the first time Jacqui felt a sliver of doubt about coming here alone. Isolation didn’t guarantee safety. If Imran had been alive he’d have scolded her for taking such a chance, haring off in the middle of the night into one of Jazeer’s national parks. What if she bogged the vehicle in sand or got lost? What if she found herself at the mercy of men who had no respect for a lone woman?

Jazeer was generally a safe country but there were always exceptions.

Jacqui spun around towards her four-wheel drive as the other vehicle pulled to a halt. The door opened and the hairs at her nape rose. She sprinted for her vehicle and had her door open, ready to leap into the driver’s seat, when a voice stopped her.

‘Jacqueline!’ Not just any voice. His voice.

How could that be?

Why wasn’t Asim partying? It was his night. Her too-vivid imagination had conjured images of him celebrating with one of the sophisticated beauties who’d hung on his every word.

Their liaison was over. There was nothing to stop him taking a new lover. An unseen blade sank between her ribs at the thought of Asim with another woman.

She’d give anything not to face him now.

Slowly she turned. He stood silhouetted by the lights. Broad-shouldered and bare-headed, legs planted wide and hands on hips. In what looked like jeans and a shirt, he was rangy and hard as a cowboy.

But he wasn’t anything so simple. He was the hereditary Sultan of Jazeer. His word was law. People raced to anticipate his wishes. He was feted and revered. And what he wanted he always got.

Jacqui peered into the darkness but saw no other vehicles.

‘Where are your henchmen, Asim?’ Her voice was harsh. ‘No security staff to take me into custody? No officials to deport me as an undesirable alien?’

He paced forward, his tall frame looming larger than ever. ‘Are you all right?’

The question threw her off balance.

‘Jacqueline?’ A sharp undercurrent bit through his words.

‘Oh, I’m just dandy,’ she jeered, planting her hands on her hips. How dared he ask if she was all right? ‘How kind of you to enquire.’ She breathed deep, shocked at how the sight of him affected her. She was torn between wanting to escape into the desert and the desire to fling herself into his arms. ‘Or did you come to accuse me of stealing a vehicle? Is there a manhunt for me?’ After tonight nothing would surprise her.

‘I came alone.’

The timbre of his voice made her shiver.

‘How did you find me?’ She’d got permission days ago to borrow a vehicle for a research trip to the Asada oasis, but when she’d arrived at the garage after midnight it was deserted. She’d simply flung her bag in, grabbed the keys and scrawled her name on the register.

‘Satellite tracking on the four-wheel drive. Desert conditions make it a necessary safety precaution.’

‘I see.’ But she didn’t. Why follow her into the wilderness?

Jacqui sagged against the vehicle, exhaustion stealing over her. She didn’t want to face Asim. Not until she’d shored up her defences.

‘Why don’t you come back here?’ He gestured to the place by the fire where she’d huddled.

Jacqui stiffened. ‘For a cosy fireside chat?’ She shook her head, hair flicking around her face, reminding her that the evening’s sophisticated hairstyle had disintegrated into a haphazard mess. She hadn’t taken time to tie her hair back, or even remove the make-up Samira had painted on her. ‘You’ve already said everything.’