Читать книгу One Desert Night - Maggie Cox, Maggie Cox - Страница 9

IF THEY had been with anyone but the Sheikh of Kabuyadir, Gina would have elbowed Jake in the ribs hard for his inappropriate teasing. He was developing into quite a brilliant historian, but he scored very few points for tact. Still, it really wasn’t Jake at all who interested her in this discussion.

How could it be? It was the astounding discovery that it was Zahir who was ‘His Highness’—handsome Sheikh of a historically once powerful Arabian kingdom and owner of the ancient and beautiful Heart of Courage. Never in her wildest dreams had she envisaged that that title belonged to him.

Why had he not told her the truth about who he was that night they’d spent together? And afterwards, when she’d returned home, he’d had ample opportunity to tell her when he phoned—but he hadn’t. Had he feared that her decision to return would be swayed only by his exalted position and not the incredible man that he was?

‘Dr Rivers and I are a team, Your Highness.’ She blushed when she said his title, because it felt so surreal, yet her eyes hungrily cleaved to his strong tanned face and the long ebony hair that swung round his shoulders when he moved. He was dressed in traditional male clothing, and it was easy to see that the materials were much finer than anybody less privileged could afford. With his broad shoulders and natural air of command Zahir was every inch the esteemed ruler of his people, and seeing him again was like receiving a fresh supply of oxygen—as if for so long her ability to breathe freely had been compromised and Gina hadn’t even known it.

‘And we hope that our individual fields of expertise complement each other when it comes to undertaking our research,’ she finished with a strained smile.

Making no immediate comment, Zahir continued to steadily hold her gaze. Gina prayed that he couldn’t see the longing, regret and dashed hopes reflected there. Thankfully she heard the doors open behind her and guessed that Jamal had returned with their refreshments.

As he placed the large handmade brass tray down on the coffee table, the air was suddenly filled with the tantalising aroma of cardamom-spiced coffee. It was a delicacy that Gina had enjoyed when she was previously in Kabuyadir. Beside the small gold-rimmed cups, next to the coffee pot known as a dallah, on an ornate brass dish was an array of appetising-looking sweetmeats. One by one, Jamal served them their coffee. When he would have gone to Zahir first, his esteemed boss redirected him to Gina.

‘We have lots to tell you about the Heart of Courage, Your Highness,’ Jake piped up as Jamal bowed to Zahir, then discreetly left them to talk.

‘Positive things, I presume?’

‘Without a doubt… Its history is incredible. It’s not every day that a historian is privileged enough to research an artefact that has its roots in the ancient Persian Empire.’

‘So your own enquiry into its history has corroborated what I already know to be true about its origins? Then I am gratified that you welcomed the opportunity to research it. Were you similarly pleased, Dr Collins?’

‘Of course… It’s the chance of a lifetime for someone in my profession. The kind of thing we all dream of. To finally see the jewel for myself will be something I’ll never forget, I’m sure.’

‘Well, that will not be for a few days yet. You have both come a long way, and I would like you to relax and enjoy the hospitality of my palace first. The journey here was not too arduous for you?’

‘Thanks to your kindness and generosity we travelled first class, Your Highness. I’ve never travelled in such luxury before. The trouble is, given the opportunity I’m afraid I could get used to it!’ Jake answered, smiling.

‘You have spent many weeks researching the jewel’s history and provenance on my behalf, and you have travelled far to tell me what you have found. To make sure that you journeyed in comfort was the least I could do.’

‘Once again, we thank you,’ Gina said quietly.

A wave of heat submerged her when Zahir didn’t seem to want to break his gaze from hers. How was she supposed to bear this? she wondered. How was she supposed to endure being so close to him when his high rank prohibited any possibility that they could enjoy a relationship again, even if they both desired it?

‘Drink your coffee and take some refreshment, both of you. We will have plenty of time for our first discussion on the matter of the jewel tomorrow, after breakfast.’

When he turned his glance towards Gina again, Zahir’s expression was hard to read. A wall had definitely descended, she intuited—a wall that had clearly been erected to prevent her from seeing too much.

‘However, I am afraid I will not be able to join you for dinner tonight. There is a personal matter that takes me away from the palace for a while. I will direct Jamal to show you to the dining room when it’s time, and also show you where to go for breakfast in the morning.’

She soaked in the deep Arabian bath, and scented herself with the exotic oils supplied. A long, lazy bath was a pleasure Gina didn’t allow herself very often. Where had she learned the idea that she must earn the right to personal pleasure? That work must come first? Thinking of her parents, she didn’t need to search hard for an answer. But blaming them wasn’t to be considered—not when the way she wanted to live was in her own hands now.

Sighing, she realised that she’d lingered in the warm scented water a little too long. The water had started to chill and goosebumps dotted her slim upper arms. She stepped out onto the marble-tiled surround to dry herself with a luxurious bathtowel that could have gone round her slim frame twice. Dinner earlier had been impossible. All she’d been able to do was watch Jake tuck into the feast that had been prepared for them with gusto. How could she eat when her stomach kept on roiling and lurching whenever she thought of Zahir?

He’d left them in the salon alone to enjoy their coffee, departing from the room without so much as a backward glance. At dinner, sensing Jamal’s hawk-eyed gaze on her at every turn as she sat at the beechwood dining table inlaid with exquisite mother-of-pearl, Gina had wrestled with double misery at the idea her lack of appetite would cause offence to the household in any way. She’d been utterly relieved to finally escape to her room.

Wrapping herself in the generous white bathrobe she’d found hanging behind the door, she moved back into the bedroom, freeing her hair from its tidy French pleat to let it tumble in buttery blonde waves down to her shoulders as she went.

The knock on the door made her gasp. It was after midnight, and she could only surmise that it was perhaps a maidservant, wanting to find out what time she would be down for breakfast.

Drawing the edges of the voluminous robe together more securely, and tightening the belt, she drew back the door— only to be confronted by the tall, imposing figure of Zahir. In the corridor behind him all the lamps were turned down low, and the soft lighting created an even stronger warriorlike cast to his handsome features—particularly his eyes. They seemed to burn with the intensity of stoked flame as he stared down at her.

‘My apologies for calling on you so late… As I told you earlier, something took me away from the palace for a while and I have only just returned.’

Clutching the sides of her robe tightly to her chest, Gina hardly knew what to think, never mind say. It didn’t help that she was trembling from head to foot.

‘May I step inside for a moment?’

Silently, she held the door wide, then closed it behind him. Glancing round the beautifully appointed room, Zahir sniffed the air and smiled. The gesture reminded her of the first time they had met in the Husseins’ garden. The kindness she’d seen in his eyes then had prevented her from being afraid of him. But right now it wasn’t kindness she saw reflected. There was an edge about him tonight that made her wary.

‘You have been taking a bath?’

‘I had no idea that you were Sheikh Kazeem Khan. It was such a shock to learn that it was you.’ Her voice had a distinct quiver in it. ‘I know it was three years ago, but I take it you haven’t forgotten me?’

‘Of course I haven’t forgotten!’ His glance was pained, his deep, resonant voice clearly irritated. ‘Did you think I could ever forget that night? But to discover that the antiquities expert I hired in London is you is not exactly a delight to me… No, it is not. How could it be when you deceived me so callously?’

Twisting her hands in front of her robe, Gina felt like crying. ‘Deceived you…how?’

‘I fell in love with you that night…I thought you felt the same. I counted the days until you would return. You promised you would. When you told me on the phone that you had changed your mind, that returning was not realistic and you preferred to focus on your career, how do you think that made me feel? It was like a bomb exploding in my face!’

‘It wasn’t just because I wanted to focus on my career. My mother died unexpectedly just a couple of days after she was taken into hospital… I told you, remember? My father needed me to stay at home after that…to give him some support. We were both grieving…I hardly knew what I was doing. Kabuyadir seemed like a dream…’

Observing the harshness of Zahir’s expression, Gina decided right then wasn’t the time to tell him that her father had pleaded with her to stay in the UK and focus on her career in memory of her mother…told her that she shouldn’t trust that life in Kabuyadir, living in a strange culture with a man she barely knew, could yield something better. Gina had buckled under the pressure of guilt and responsibility and agreed to stay, even when it had meant denying her desire to return to Zahir and the extraordinary passion they’d shared.

Now she was reeling at his confession that he’d fallen in love with her. There was a big part of her that could hardly believe such a handsome, charismatic man could truly have cared for her like that. To hear him say the words after all this time, compounding what a colossal mistake she’d made in not coming back to him, was like having her insides scraped raw with a sharpened blade.

‘Whatever happened, clearly you thought my regard for you wasn’t important enough to make you come back to Kabuyadir. Knowing that, I wonder that you have decided to return now three years later? If I had known that you were the antiquities expert I’d hired to research the jewel I would have taken steps to prevent your coming and hired someone else. My secretary Masoud would normally have acquainted me with such details, but he was suddenly taken ill and had to return to his family, otherwise I would have realised.’

‘So…how are we to proceed from here on? Do you want me to act as though I never met you before?’

He abruptly turned away for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts. The sudden motion made the midnight-blue jalabiya he wore swirl round his leather-booted calves. ‘What I want…what I wish…is that you had vanished off the face of the earth, if you want to know the truth! Then I wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that you live and the possibility that you have chosen some other man to spend your life with rather than me.’

Gina gasped at the bitterness and passion she heard in his voice. ‘There is no other man, Zahir…there never was. That’s the truth.’

When he turned his gaze on her again his eyes regarded her with such disdain that she curled up inside. Somehow, no matter how hard she tried, she seemed to have great difficulty in inspiring love in the people closest to her.

‘It is of no account to me any more. It is all too late now.’

Distressed and dry-mouthed at the bleakness in his tone, she darted out her tongue to moisten her lips. She wrapped her arms tightly round herself to subdue the pain that vibrated inside. ‘Why didn’t you tell me who you were?’ she asked quietly. ‘Have you any idea how hard it is for me to see you again and discover that you’re practically a—a king?’

‘I was not the ruler of Kabuyadir when we met. I knew I would inherit the mantle of Sheikh when my father died—I was trained to do so from a boy—but I was still just Zahir when we were together. I had thought to share some carefree time with you before that happened. When we met that night at the Husseins I, too, was grieving. My mother had died just a month before. To meet you and feel the way I did so instantly…it gave me hope—hope that life would