Читать книгу The Sultan's Bed - Laura Wright, Laura Wright - Страница 11

“…I know I should have photographs of him with that other woman, but I can’t find a thing, Miss Kennedy. Please call me back, okay?”

Through the pain in her wrist and ankle, Mariah listened to the end of her client’s message, then the beep of her answering machine.

Nude, angry and lying in quasifetal position on the bathroom floor, Mariah sincerely wished she’d installed a telephone next to the bathtub. Such luxury had just proven itself a necessity, as she’d slipped trying to get out of the tub and into Jane’s room for the phone.

Wondering if she could roll over, get her weight on her good leg, she rose slightly and made the effort. But when sharp pain whipped up and around like a tornado in her ankle, she collapsed.

What the hell was she going to do? Lie here all night like a fish? Maybe inch her way across the bathroom floor, down the hall and into—

Just then Mariah heard something. A crash. Downstairs. Wood splitting. She sucked air, and her pulse jumped in her blood. Not good. Robbery and incapacitated naked girl did not go well together.

She tried to work herself up into a sitting position, but her wrist and ankle hurt like hell, and she was slow.

There were footsteps on the stairs, a rustle outside the bathroom door. A thought poked into Mariah’s brain—one she clung to for dear life. Jane. Maybe she’d forgotten something.

She called out, “Jane!” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

“Do not be alarmed. I am here to help you.”

Sick, gut-tight fear gripped Mariah, made her forget the pain screaming up her ankle.

Not Jane.

Had she locked the bathroom door?

“I have a knife and a baseball bat in here,” she shouted, scanning the room for anything that resembled those two items. Emery board, toilet plunger… “And I’m not afraid to use them.”

“I am sure that you could do great damage if provoked, but I am not here to hurt you, Miss Kennedy.”

Was it Mr. Sexy Accent?

Mr. Next Door?

Oh my God.

“Don’t come in here,” she warned, more afraid of him seeing her naked than she was of him attacking her.

She was such an idiot.

“Miss Kennedy, I heard you scream.” He was right outside the door now and probably unstoppable.

“I’m fine.” She sounded embarrassingly hysterical. “Nothing’s wrong. I just saw a mouse and—”

“I do not believe you.”

The door squeaked open.

“Oh my God, don’t come in here—”

He didn’t listen. “Perhaps you need a doc—”

“Dammit!” Completely nude and in a most unflattering position, she tried to roll into the bath mat. “Get out. Get out.”

“You are hurt.”

“I’m also naked. Get out.”

He went to her, knelt beside her. “I would never take advantage of such a situation.”

She glared up at him. “I don’t believe that for a minute.”

A glimmer of humor lit his eyes. “Smart girl.” He grabbed a towel and draped it over her. “But I give you my word this is no attempt at seduction, merely a rescue.”

“I don’t need to be rescued.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Listen, Mr. Fandal, this is my house and I want you to leave.”

“Who will help you if I leave?”

“I’ll think of someone or I’ll get out of here myself.”

“Crawling around on the floor like a lame pup?”

“Did you just call me a dog?”

Zayad gave an impatient groan, flashed his gaze to the ceiling. Never had he known a woman like this one—obstinate, headstrong, ready to injure herself further in the name of pride. He was not used to following the orders of others, but with her he felt it would be far more productive. “If you prefer to wallow in your mulishness, I shall stand behind the door in case you have need of me.”

“No. Thank you. Seriously I appreciate the gesture, but you can leave. I’m fine.”

He stood up, walked out of the bathroom and waited behind the door. “I shall stand behind the door until you realize you need my assistance.”

She snorted. “Well, you’ll be waiting all night for that, buddy.”

Moments later he heard her groan with pain.

“Miss Kennedy?”

“I’m fine. Just fine.”

Seconds later there was another cry of pain and a soft thud.

“Still fine, Miss Kennedy?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head, walked back into the bathroom. “I do not enjoy playing games. You will not send me away again, and I will help you until more suitable help arrives.”

“There is no suitable help.”

“Your roommate is not home yet?”

“No.”

“But she is returning soon, yes?”

“She’s actually going to be out of town for a week teaching some Hollywood bimbo how to cook.”

Alarm moved through Zayad. He had not heard her correctly. Jane gone for one week. Impossible. He had but two weeks to know her, make her understand her past, her family’s history, see if she was ready to return to her homeland and take up her duties as princess. How could this happen? How could he have allowed his plan to be thwarted?

Frustration swam in his blood. What was he to do now? Follow her? Rent another home in Los Angeles for one week, then return to Ventura with her?

He glanced down at the woman who needed his assistance. With great care he eased her into his arms. He had to take care of this situation first and quickly, then find a solution to his woes with Jane.

Head against his chest, Mariah groaned. “This is so humiliating.”

“What is? Falling down or being nude?”

“Oh, of course the naked part.”

A grin tugged at his lips. “Miss Kennedy, you have nothing to feel ashamed of. Your body is beautiful, lush, and your skin is softer than silk. It took great effort to tear my gaze from you, but as you were hurt, I felt compelled to do so.”

He watched her eyes widen and her lips part.

Chuckling, he lifted her up, bath mat and all, and headed out of the steamy room. “Praise be. I have found a way to keep you quiet.”