Donna Young – Captive of the Desert King (страница 10)
“HOW HAVE YOU BEEN, Sarah?” The question broke through the silence that had filled the cave for the past hour.
“Good,” she said cautiously, unsure from where the question came. They had just put Rashid down on a makeshift bed of the emergency blanket and Jarek’s robe.
“And your father and mother, how are they?”
Slowly, Sarah finished tucking the robe around Rashid’s shoulders and straightened. “They are doing well.
“My father has retired from the university,” she added. “They are currently traveling in a motor home somewhere in Yellowstone National Park. I get e-mails when they have access to the Internet, and postcards when they don’t.” She paused for a moment. “But I assume you already know that, since the president sent you my file.”
“He told you?”
“The first time I met with him over the possibility of flying to Taer, he told me his intentions,” Sarah mused. “Should I be flattered that you took such an interest in me after all these years?”
“Before I made an agreement with Jon Mercer, I had your background checked.”
“And you’re telling me this, why?” Sarah asked. “Considering you’re a king and run your own country, I don’t think you need to reach for the intimidation card. So why share this information with me now?”
“I will not let just anyone into my home, Sarah. Even on the recommendation of a president.”
“Especially past lovers,” Sarah added. When Jarek didn’t respond—didn’t deny her statement—Sarah brushed the hurt aside.
“Fair enough,” she said and meant it. After all, she’d researched him, too. “So you’re telling me, I’m on probation.”
“I’m telling you that just because we are in this situation here, it will not change the situation once we reach the city again.”
“Okay,” Sarah replied slowly. “I stand warned.”
“Come sit over here.” Jarek dug into the backpack and retrieved the first aid kit. “We need to clean the cut on your forehead. And your feet. Infection sets in relatively easy in the desert.”
“I can do it.”
“How? When I can see it better than you?” he mused, his lips tilting, challenging her reluctance. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
She sat cross-legged on the ground. But when he crouched in front of her, she tensed.
“Relax,” he murmured, in the same even tone he’d used on the horses.
While her features remained passive, she could do very little to ease the tension in her shoulders.
For the first few minutes, Jarek worked in silence, cleaning the cut with an antiseptic wipe.
“This will sting.”
Sarah hissed at the sharp slice of pain. “You weren’t kidding.”
Gently, he blew across the wound, taking the sting away from her temple. “I never realized you had graduated from the University of Nevada.”
“Forty-eight hours doesn’t allow much time for much personal history.” But was plenty of time to fall in love with a king, she thought.
“The file said you graduated at the top of your class. Majored in journalism. Minored in history.” Jarek brushed away a few strands of hair, tucked them behind her ear. “That must have made your father happy.”
“It did.” The brush of his finger against the shell of her ear touched off a ripple of goose bumps down her neck. “But I happen to enjoy history. So it made me happy, too.”
“You are quite brave, Sarah,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. His fingers worked efficiently. His feather-light touches were gentle, almost soothing as he applied the medicated cream.
“Not really.” Without realizing it, her voice dipped low to match his. “I’ve had worse injuries.”
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