Bella's Disgrace. Sarah Morgan. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Sarah Morgan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Зарубежные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408928240
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saying? Oh, yes … interrupting—it’s one of my many faults. But I’m working on it.’

      ‘Then you might like to work a little harder.’ His thumb traced a circle over her cheek. ‘I said that I’ll escort you back to the city—’

      ‘I heard you. And I—’ Bella felt his fingers cover her lips and she felt the instant response of her body.

      ‘—at the end of my stay here,’ he said softly, a trace of mockery gleaming in his eyes as he finished his sentence. ‘Once a year I am given the chance to be alone. I will not relinquish that luxury for anyone. I will not change my plans for a woman.’

      Bella made a sound in her throat but his fingers still covered her lips.

      ‘Which gives you two choices.’ He spoke in a deceptively gentle voice. ‘Either you can try and make your own way on foot—and if you do that I calculate you’ll be dead in an hour or so—or you stay here with me until it suits me to return you to Al-Rafid.’

      CHAPTER THREE

      ZAFIQ withdrew his hand from her lips, fighting an inexplicable temptation to replace it with his mouth. ‘Those are your options. Pick one.’

      Anger flared inside him but the anger was directed towards himself and his own weakness.

      Despite her ordeal, she was more alluring than any other woman he’d ever encountered, and his jaw tightened because she was a woman who knew how to use her gifts and he despised the fact that he was susceptible to her practised flirtation.

      The rigid self-control and discipline on which he prided himself suddenly seemed like a flimsy, fragile thing. It was like going into battle and discovering that your armour was made of paper.

      Perhaps, he mused grimly, he’d never been really tested before.

      Was that what this week of reflection and personal time was going to be about? His own weakness?

      Was he about to discover that he was, after all, just like his father?

      His initial suspicions that she was part of the conspiracy to steal his horse had been eliminated by her explanation. It was galling to acknowledge that he might actually have to be grateful to her because it seemed that she’d inadvertently foiled a serious crime. By ‘borrowing’ Amira she had clearly prevented the threatened kidnap by a matter of minutes. Contemplating the reaction of the criminals who had been planning to steal his horse, he gave a grim smile. They must have had a shock to discover that someone had already done the job for them.

      He was determined to keep his precious mare safe in his care until he was due to return to the city.

      Which meant keeping the girl too.

      Zafiq watched as various emotions flickered across her beautiful face.

      Even with sand in her golden hair she was gorgeous. She reminded him of a princess from one of the fairy stories he’d read to his younger sisters when they were small. Only less sweet natured. A sulky princess. Now that he’d thwarted her plans to escape from the desert, he could see her struggling to hold back her temper. She was fiery and full of fight and he wondered what she was hiding.

      Her hands clenched and she glared at him. ‘Don’t put yourself out, will you?’

      Accustomed to receiving the appropriate degree of respect at all times, Zafiq was taken aback by her lack of deference. ‘Generally people put themselves out for me,’ he drawled softly. ‘That’s the way it works.’

      ‘You say “jump” and they say “how high?'”

      ‘Something like that.’

      She tilted her head and studied him with perfect blue eyes that had undoubtedly been designed by nature to bring a man to his knees. ‘If that’s how you expect people to behave around you, then you definitely don’t want to keep me here. I’m honestly not great at doing as I’m told. In fact, I’m rubbish. That’s why I’ve been banished to the middle of the desert. I’ll drive you mad if you make me stay.’

      Zafiq almost laughed.

       She was already driving him mad, but he had no intention of revealing that.

      ‘You seem anxious to become better acquainted with the inside of a prison cell.’ His remark appeared to register because her face coloured.

      ‘Look, I know it was wrong to take the horse, OK? But—’

      ‘Not for taking the horse.’ Reluctant to reveal that he was actually grateful to her for that part of her escapade, Zafiq trod with caution. ‘For speaking to me with such a lack of respect.’

      ‘At least prison has bars, which would be a step up from the Retreat,’ she quipped, quickly regaining her spirit. ‘Alcohol is banned. You have to get your highs from herbal tea.’ She studied his reaction and then rolled her eyes. ‘I liked you better when you laughed. You should do it more often.’ Tense and edgy, she paced to the other side of the tent. ‘What am I supposed to call you, then?’

      ‘Your Highness.’

      ‘Wow. No formality, then! And I’m supposed to do everything you tell me, Your Highness?’ Her mouth curved into a mocking smile that challenged his already straining self-control. ‘So I’m your slave, is that right? Sorry, I should have said, Is that right, Your Highness?’

      Zafiq had a disturbing image of this blonde, defiant beauty dressed in thin veils and bound at the wrists and ankles, awaiting his pleasure. ‘I hadn’t considered that option, but I will bear it in mind.’

      His reply seemed to unsettle her. The dangerous gleam in her sexy eyes was almost enough to make Zafiq rethink his ultimatum.

      She was the most alluring, tempting woman he’d ever met.

      ‘We will get along very well together,’ he said in a cool tone. ‘As long as you obey certain basic rules.’

      ‘And what are those?’ She flicked her hair out of her eyes in an unconsciously graceful gesture. ‘I just have to do everything you say, Your Highness?’

      ‘Yes.’ He watched as she swayed slightly and suddenly he remembered how long she’d been exposed to the sun. She must be feeling awful and yet she was determined to hide it from him and it was impossible not to admire that. ‘You’re still suffering from dehydration. Drink something.’

      ‘You might be a sheikh, but could you stop ordering me around? It brings out the worst in me.’ But she sank back onto the mattress and reached for the glass, her hand shaking as she sipped the water. ‘I feel filthy. My hair is full of sand. Does this tent have an en-suite bathroom or anything?’

      For some reason he found her sense of humour every bit as disturbing as her more obvious charms. People were usually stilted and formal around him. They didn’t crack jokes. ‘As it happens, there is an en-suite bathroom. Outside the tent. This is an oasis. There’s a pool.’

      ‘I hope it’s an infinity pool with a bar serving iced drinks in the corner and a changing room. Or am I supposed to strip off in public?’

      ‘It’s not public. I’m the only person here.’

      ‘Well …’ She took another sip of water and then put the glass down. ‘In that case, no peeping. And what about the creatures you mentioned before? Am I likely to be eaten while I’m bathing?’

      He refrained from admitting that she was probably the most dangerous creature in the area. ‘I doubt you’ll be eaten.’

      ‘Good, because I don’t have a particular desire to be tonight’s takeaway for some hungry camel.’

      ‘Camels are herbivores.’

      She shuddered and lifted her hands, palms towards him like a stop sign, but there was a twinkle of mischief in those eyes. ‘Don’t mention herbs to me again—after