Читать книгу The Sheikh Who Married Her: One Desert Night / Strangers in the Desert / Desert Doctor, Secret Sheikh - Lynn Raye Harris, Maggie Cox - Страница 9

THE Sheikh of Kabuyadir’s office was enormous—almost like a small ballroom, with its marble floor and exotic octagonal brass lamps with little coloured windows hanging down from the rafters of the high ceiling. A desk was definitely present. How could they ignore the six-foot-long burnished table that stood in the centre, with carved and cushioned antique chairs surrounding it? But Gina’s eye was immediately drawn to the circle of colourful patterned cushions round a hand-woven blue, red and gold rug, to the right of the impressive desk, where Zahir sat, chin in his hands, crossed-legged and thoughtful.

He wore another broad leather belt round his long hooded black robe, and this one had an attachment that crossed over his chest and shoulder. It looked as if it might have accommodated a hunting knife or scimitar at some point, but right then the slim holster was empty. The image of Zahir as a brave ancient warrior was never far away, it seemed—at least to Gina. For three long years his striking visage had fuelled her fantasies and stoked her longing for him to an inferno at times—especially when she reflected on what she had lost by letting him go.

As they approached Jake gave a respectful nod, and under Jamal’s hawk-like stare Gina did the same.

‘You have breakfasted well, I trust?’ Zahir’s questioning dark gaze encompassed both of them, but definitely lingered longer on her.

‘Very well indeed, thank you.’ This from an enthusiastic Jake.

‘That is a nice shirt, Dr Rivers. Very … shall we say colourful?’

‘I’m glad that you like it, Your Highness.’

‘Sit down, please. We should make a start on the matter of the jewel.’ Sweeping an extravagant hand round the circle of floor cushions, Zahir was suddenly all business.

His lightly mocking comment about Jake’s shirt woke Gina to the unsettling fact that he had a sense of humour. Seating herself on the cushion the furthest in distance from their host, she spied a gleam which might have been amusement in the depths of his hypnotically brown eyes. It made her self-conscious and uncomfortable as she opened the slim leather document holder on her lap and carefully withdrew her notes. A couple of feet away from her, Jake did the same.

‘I will start with you, Dr Rivers, if I may? Tell me what your historical research says about the jewel.’

Jake’s enthusiastic report was followed by some intense discussion between the two men. Gina took the opportunity to observe Zahir at her leisure—starting with his voice. It was undoubtedly strong, yet he kept it modulated, varying the tone from time to time as his gaze focused unwaveringly on her colleague, and managing to give not the slightest indication of his private thoughts about what was being discussed at any time.

Now and again Jake shifted a little nervously—as if overwhelmed by where he was and who was quizzing him—but by and large he gave a good account of his painstaking research, and as the discussion ended, the merest smile touched the edges of Zahir’s well-cut lips. At least he appeared pleased with what he had heard.

Then it was Gina’s turn.

As Zahir directed his glance back to her, she had the panicked idea that his eyes were like the high-power lens of a high-resolution microscope, illuminating a specimen on a slide for detailed examination. Right now she was the specimen.

Fumbling with her papers as she cleared her throat to speak, she saw a few of the A-4 sheets slide off her lap and onto the patterned rug. She was mortified. Not exactly the best start, she thought, as she hurriedly gathered the papers and tidied them.

‘Are you ready to proceed with your presentation now, Dr Collins?’

Hearing the sardonic edge to his tone didn’t exactly help Gina’s case. ‘Yes, Your Highness.’

She made herself look him straight in the eye to give herself courage. After all, she was an expert in her field—not some nervous schoolgirl making a presentation for a class project.

‘I thought I would start by discussing the fascinating legend that has grown up around the Heart of Courage.’

Where had that come from? It wasn’t the first thing she’d intended discussing at all! The papers had got mixed up when they’d slid off her lap, and the sheet that had been at the bottom of the pile was now somehow on top. There was a sudden drop in temperature in the sultry air. Gina’s glance collided with Zahir’s. It was the iciest look she’d ever received. For a couple of excruciating seconds her breath was strangled inside her throat.

‘I think not, if you don’t mind, Dr Collins? I prefer to stick to verifiable facts right now. Speculation about any kind of mythical legend can only detract from a more important discussion about the authenticity and provenance of the jewel’s origins. So we will stay with what is important and not go off on some insignificant tangent … agreed?’

After such an unprepossessing beginning, Gina felt she made a hash of the rest of her presentation. By the time it came to an end, and Jamal had appeared with a tray of the delicious cardamom-scented coffee for their refreshment, she just wanted to flee back to her quarters and liberally splash her burning face with ice water.

‘Dr Collins? May I have a private word with you?’ Soundlessly, Zahir had materialised at her side, and was holding out his hand to help her up from the floor cushion. As she automatically slipped her hand into his, he turned briefly to Jake. ‘Dr Rivers, you should take your coffee outside on the terrace and relax for a while. Later, Jamal will give you a proper tour of the palace.’

‘Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll very much look forward to that.’

When the twin doors had closed behind Jamal and Jake, Zahir put his hands behind his formidable back and paced the floor a little before turning back to Gina. There was no mistaking the anger that transformed his breathtakingly handsome features into an intimidating mask.

‘What did you think you were doing, trying to make a fool of me like that?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Bringing up the legend … that’s what I mean!’

‘I—I had no intention of trying to make you look a fool. I just got my notes muddled up and—’

His face was suddenly bare inches from hers, and the sensation of her blood roaring in her ears blotted out any others.

‘Why should the tale of that cursed legend even be amongst your notes when I have already told you I will have none of it?’

Hearts pounded a lot in romance novels, and now Gina knew why. She released the painful breath she’d been holding and nervously smoothed her hand down the side of her dress. ‘In my search to establish the truth about an artefact I would hardly ignore anything that came up time and time again in the research—however unimportant or inconvenient a client regards it to be. My father taught me to fearlessly examine everything.’ She unconsciously jutted her chin.

The man in front of her sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. ‘Your father?’

‘He’s a professor of antiquities and ancient history back home.’

‘Ah, yes … The man you deemed more important than coming back to me.’

‘He’s my only remaining family,’ Gina said miserably. ‘He needed my support.’

Zahir’s hot temper dissipated as abruptly as sometimes a sandstorm in the desert came to an end. How was a man with healthy red blood coursing through his veins supposed to ignore the tempting vision before him and resist? Especially when the vision was all glittering blue eyes, flushed cheeks and quivering coral-glazed lips—the lower slightly fuller than the upper, and so divinely shaped that they would drive a sane man mad?

‘When it comes to his work he’s very diligent and—and …’ the big blue eyes were staring at him as though transfixed’ … thorough. He doesn’t leave any stone unturned.’

The space between them seemed to thrum with electricity.

‘Is that so?’ Zahir responded softly.

Before Gina had a chance to answer him, his mouth claimed hers. His possession was clumsy and rough at first, because of his desperation to taste her again, but then he pulled her to him, and her slim body sagged against his, so that he felt every undulating curve and dip, and he kissed her more slowly and seductively. Kissed her and sampled her intoxicatingly addictive flavours until the heat in his blood consumed him like an inferno—until he wished he had the power to make the rest of the world go away, simply to forget about affairs of state, and the threatening insurgence in a local mountain region that would command the rest of his day, and take her to bed. And when he got her in his bed he would ravish and pleasure her until she was quivering in his hands … until she wept and swore she wanted only him—that any other man she had ever known since they met was erased from her mind and heart for ever.

His hands were in her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp, when he finally raised his head to look down at her. Aware that he was breathing hard, he smiled unabashed. ‘You taste even more delectable than I remember. I had not foreseen the end of our meeting finishing like this, Gina, but I suppose after what happened between us the first time we met it was inevitable.’

She tried to prise herself free from his arms, but Zahir was having none of it. Right then he didn’t even care if Jamal or one of the other servants walked in and saw him. They had sworn their fealty to him at his coronation, and no tittle-tattle would leave the palace—he was certain of that.

‘Let me go, please! We can’t—we shouldn’t—’

‘There is nothing to fear. There will be no stain of dishonour on you should we be seen together, Gina. This is my palace, remember? I am the law-maker in this kingdom.’

‘I’m not worried about what anyone else thinks if they see us together, but I am concerned about how I conduct myself while I’m here. I came here for professional purposes only, to present the results of my research. I’m not here as a personal friend of yours. I’m also here with a colleague.’

‘You are concerned about what the diminutive Dr Rivers with his tasteless loud shirts thinks?’

‘He may not have your stature or standing, or indeed your dress sense, Zahir, but he is a good man—a man who might be hurt if he finds out I knew you from before and didn’t tell him.’

He muttered a well-used Kabuyadir curse and released her abruptly. ‘Why should he be hurt?’ he demanded, his heart hammering wildly inside his chest. ‘Are you telling me that you two are having an affair?’

Gina appeared slightly dazed by the question. ‘Me and Jake.? No, of course not!’

‘Then why should you care what he thinks?’

‘Out of respect—nothing more.’

Owning to feeling thoroughly dissatisfied with her answer, Zahir gave her a distinctly cool glance before turning away and striding across to the large desk. Pulling open a hidden drawer, he retrieved a small ornate knife with a high-polished blade that was pointed at the end. He slid it into the previously empty leather sheath on his belt and once more swung round to face her.

‘I have to go out, so our business is at an end for now.’

‘Where are you going? And why do you need that weapon?’

‘There’s a band of lawless rebels in the mountains who have been visiting local villages at night and causing trouble. They have received warnings from my council before, but still they continue to make a nuisance of themselves. Now I need to go and address them personally.’

Gina walked towards him a few steps, her expression alarmed. ‘Isn’t that dangerous? You’re not going there alone?’

Liking the feeling that she cared about whether or not he might get hurt, Zahir allowed himself a lazy smile. ‘I am not Zorro, Gina. I will of course be accompanied by a small detachment of trained soldiers.’

‘But still …’ She twisted her hands in front of the gold and yellow kaftan that so fluidly fell to her feet, caressing her shapely but svelte body underneath on its way. ‘Please be careful.’

‘I have too much at stake here to take unnecessary risks … My beloved sister, for one.’ Aware that he sounded aloof and distant, and that he’d made a point of telling Gina it was his sister he cared most about in the world above anyone else, Zahir knew he was feeling anything but aloof towards the lovely woman who stood in front of him. Whenever he was near her molten heat seemed to beat an urgent path to his loins, and now was no exception.

‘Of course.’ She dipped her head.

‘Later, when I return,’ he continued, ‘there is another matter that I would very much like to discuss with you. Even if it is late you should make yourself available. Do you understand?’

The prettily shaped chin that he could cup in one hand if he had a mind to jutted forward in surprise. The big blue eyes sparkled defiantly. ‘Is that some sort of royal command?’

Her rebellious stance stunned Zahir. It also aroused him. His hands itched to touch her, sweep her high into his arms and carry her to his private apartments to do with as he willed. Knowing he could not, because even now his detachment of soldiers awaited him in the courtyard, he promised himself that he would teach her the most exquisite lesson later.

‘Yes,’ he bellowed, then swept past her to the twin doors, ‘it is!’

Feeling on edge and restless, knowing that Zahir might possibly be in danger and that there was nothing she could do about it, Gina made a poor effort at eating lunch that day. At this rate she’d return home to England looking like a bag of bones! But how was she supposed to eat when fear that she might never see him again all but made her crazy?

That incendiary kiss they’d shared earlier had irrevocably reminded her why he was the only man in the world she could ever love. The warm pressure of his mouth and the hot silken tongue that had passionately invaded her had left an indelible tingling imprint, and she longed to experience more of the same.

She decided to try to distract her mind by asking Jamal if she could explore the palace grounds a little on her own. He immediately offered to escort her, as he had done Jake earlier, but she persisted in her request to go unaccompanied. With obvious reluctance in his expressive amber eyes, he agreed.

There were several paved paths—some extravagantly shaded—meandering into the lush gardens. Birdsong abounded. Various enchanting scents hung in the air. Gina detected jasmine, orange blossom and heliotrope amongst others. Everywhere she glanced there were ornate fountains and stately stone statues—presumably of ancestors of the illustrious Kazeem Khan family? If her mind hadn’t been so distracted with worry about Zahir, and if she’d known for certain that he was safe, Gina might have allowed herself to investigate the statues further, indulge her love of history and genealogy together and truly revel in the discoveries she made. But under the circumstances, that was easier said than done.

She was almost level with the slight, black-robed veiled figure sitting on a bench before she realised she should probably retrace her steps in case she was intruding on someone’s peaceful contemplation. It was a woman—a young, elfin-faced woman—with the prettiest brown eyes and yet perhaps the saddest expression Gina had ever seen.

‘Who are you?’ the woman asked, first in her own language and then, when Gina didn’t immediately respond, in English.

‘I’m so sorry if I disturbed you. I’m Dr Gina Collins, and I’m here to help make an inventory of the palace artefacts for His Highness.’ She bit her lip after this announcement, feeling more than just slightly guilty as she did as directed and supplied her alleged reason for being there.

‘My brother did not tell me he intended to make such an inventory.’

‘Forgive me … your brother?’

‘I am Farida, and the Sheikh of Kabuyadir is my brother … although lately he is becoming more and more like a stranger to me.’

This was followed by a heavily troubled sigh. Standing stock still, Gina half expected to be waved away and told not to intrude on this particular part of the garden again. But to her surprise, Farida turned up her face and smiled.

‘It is nice to see another young woman about the place—someone from England, too. Zahir and I both went to university there—did you know that?’

Feeling a jolt of surprise, Gina shook her head. ‘I didn’t. Where did you study?’

‘We both went to Oxford—he to Pembroke College, to study politics and economics, and me to Lady Margaret Hall to study English and modern languages.’

‘You’re clearly both very bright. I’m afraid my grades weren’t good enough to get me to Oxford.’

‘Zahir’s mind is like a rapier. Mine is a little slower, but I get there eventually.’

‘And you liked it at Oxford?’

‘It is a fascinating city. Full of stunning architecture and history and learning and all the things I love—especially books. I was always the family bookworm. Whatever the time of day, I could usually be found with my head in some fascinating tome even before I went up to Oxford. But all that changed when I met Azhar …’ Her words trailed off, her expression became subdued, and she was clearly lost in thought again.

Gina’s heart squeezed tight as she remembered Zahir telling her that Farida’s husband Azhar had died in a car accident. She was so young … too young to be a widow.

Before she’d realised her intention, she dropped down onto the bench beside her. ‘Azhar was your husband?’ she said gently.

Farida nodded sadly. ‘He was the love of my life. I have been so lost since he died. I don’t really know what to do with my life any more. I don’t believe I have anything left to offer anyone—even the brother I have always adored. Everything just seems futile.’

‘For a long time after he lost my mother, my father told me he felt like that, too. His method of coping with his grief was to lock himself away in the house and bury himself in his work. I didn’t really know how strongly he felt about her until recently. Their marriage always seemed more of a pragmatic arrangement than anything else. I honestly thought that their relationship was more a meeting of minds than hearts. But lately—lately I’ve started to believe I was wrong about that.’

Farida’s soft brown gaze studied Gina for a long time before she finally spoke. ‘I believe that love is everything … that no relationship or marriage can survive for long without it.’

‘And I believe that true love can never die. Wherever your beloved Azhar is now, he watches over you and only wants the best for you. I firmly believe that he would want you to enjoy the rest of your life and live it to the full, with his blessing.’

To Gina’s surprise, the other woman laid her hand over hers. ‘Thank you, Gina. I may call you that? You have said something very important to me that will help me sleep a little easier tonight. How long do you stay in Kabuyadir?’

She flushed a little. A buzzing insect flew by her ear and she brushed it away. ‘I’m not sure. It depends how long the work I’ve been hired to do takes. I’m here with a colleague, by the way … Dr Rivers.’

‘I hope it takes a long time.’ Farida smiled. ‘For I feel that I have just made a new friend.’

Unbearably touched, and because she feared the same debilitating grief would be visited on her should anything happen to Zahir, Gina found her blue eyes misting over for a second. ‘The feeling is mutual … you’re very kind.’

The loudly insistent tattoo beaten on her bedroom door that night woke Gina from an already far from serene sleep. She hadn’t bothered undressing because Zahir had told her to make herself available to talk when he returned. Even though she’d resented the command at the time, now she prayed he’d live to shout another one.

Shoving off the exotic silk counterpane, she got hurriedly to her feet.

‘Dr Collins—His Highness desires your presence in his chambers immediately!’ Looking as if he’d run all the way through the palace to reach her, beneath his dark red fez Jamal’s forehead was lightly coated with glistening sweat.

Light-headed with shock, Gina held on to the doorframe to anchor her for a moment. ‘What’s happened? Has he been hurt?’

‘Come.’ Jamal gestured impatiently. ‘No questions. Please come now.’

Not bothering to turn back and put on the pretty sequinned slippers she’d left by the bed, she pulled the door to and followed Zahir’s officious servant down the marble corridor barefoot.