Maggie Cox – The Sheikh Who Married Her: One Desert Night / Strangers in the Desert / Desert Doctor, Secret Sheikh (страница 20)

In contrast the plain, traditional long black dress she wore hardly seemed fitting for such incandescent loveliness. He guessed it belonged to his sister. His first desire was to go straight to Gina, but because Farida and her servant Hafiz were both present he didn’t.

‘What is this I have been hearing about an assault on Dr Collins in the marketplace?’ he demanded, not bothering to temper his outrage.

Both Hafiz and his sister flinched. ‘It happened so quickly, Zahir. There was nothing we could—’

‘Nothing you could do?’ he interrupted furiously, uncaring in that moment that Farida looked distraught. ‘Why didn’t you take a bodyguard with you? In fact, why did you not take two—one for each of you? Have you forgotten what happened to me just the other day? For the love of Allah, what possessed you to go to the market in the first place? If you had wanted something specifically you could have sent your servant!’

‘I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I can’t sit here and let your sister take the blame for something that happened totally out of the blue.’

Having risen to her feet—a little shakily, he noticed with alarm—Gina all but pierced Zahir’s soul with the fiercely protective glint of her blue eyes. She continually astonished him. No more than now, as she refused to let him berate Farida for undertaking a trip she hadn’t needed to make in the first place, thereby putting them both at grave risk.

‘As lovely as it is, we both needed to get out of the palace for a while. When Farida suggested a trip to the marketplace I jumped at the chance. So if you’re intent on blaming your sister, then I want you to know that I am equally to blame.’

‘Did the assailant hurt you?’ He couldn’t help the catch in his voice. Right then he didn’t care who noted it, either. It was hell to stand there and pretend his concern was only that of a respectful host for a guest who had suffered some accident or mishap whilst under his roof when all the while he wanted to hold Gina in his arms and ascertain for himself whether she was hurt or not.

‘The man grabbed Gina from behind and dragged her from her chair. I am certain his aim was to abduct her, but fortunately she reacted quickly and bit him. He cursed and let her go,’ Farida explained, colouring slightly.

‘You bit him?’ Was it possible for this woman to amaze him any further? Arms akimbo, Zahir stared.

‘It was purely instinctive. I’m no heroine, I assure you.’

‘The law enforcement officers found a dangerous-looking knife under the man’s robes.’

His sister glanced at Gina with what looked to be an apologetic shrug, but it was too late. Zahir’s mind had already delved into the most horrific scenarios at news of the attack without the information that the assailant had been carrying a knife.

‘And the officers interviewed you for details of the assault on Dr Collins?’ His voice sounded strangely disembodied to his own ears, as shock and mounting fury spilled through his veins.

‘They did. They’ll be here shortly to have a meeting with you, Zahir. Do you think it was anything to do with the rebels?’

‘I do not doubt it.’ Scowling, Zahir dropped his hands to his hips. Helplessly, he returned his concerned hungry glance to Gina. Her skin had turned the sickly pallor of oatmeal, and suddenly, frighteningly, it was clear to him that she was having trouble keeping her balance.

‘Gina!’ Rushing forward, he caught her slim body in his arms just before she hit the marble floor.

CHAPTER EIGHT

AS HE kicked open the door of Gina’s bedroom, to carry her across to the emperor-sized bed with its purple silk counterpane, Zahir realised he had an entourage. His sister, two servants—not including Jamal—and finally Dr Saffar, the personal physician he had commanded Jamal to fetch straight away, followed him.

Laying his precious cargo carefully down on the bed, he personally removed her shoes, then sat on the edge of the counterpane beside her, the tension inside him building excruciatingly every moment her eyes stayed closed. Taking her hand in his, he could not hide his shock at how cold it was. Moving to the other side of the bed, his physician lightly slapped Gina’s pale cheeks.

Realising they were being watched, Zahir irritably waved his audience away. ‘Go. Leave us!’

‘May I stay?’ His sister had tears in her eyes.

‘Of course.’ He didn’t apologise for his clipped-sounding tone. His whole being was focused on one thing and one thing only … Gina.

As he turned back the doctor was cradling her head and moving a bottle of smelling salts back and forth beneath her nose. Her eyelids quivered then opened thankfully wide to reveal dazzling blue irises.

‘What happened?’

‘You fainted, my dear.’

The physician’s avuncular tone surprised Zahir. The only person he had addressed quite as kindly before was his sister Farida.

‘It can happen sometimes after a bad shock.’

‘I’ve never fainted before.’

‘There is a first time for everything, and it is nothing to worry about.’

The man smiled again, and Zahir was almost jealous that he was the one to comfort and reassure Gina. But then her worried glance collided with his, and this time he made sure it was his smile she was the recipient of.

Cupping her cold hand, he lightly stroked it. ‘You frightened me,’ he said simply.

Pursing her lips, she didn’t attempt to speak, but he sensed her hand curl deliberately into his palm and his heart leapt.

‘Now, I am afraid that you will have to leave us for a while, Your Highness … I need to properly examine Dr Collins.’ The physician was opening his medical bag. Peering over the rims of his spectacles, he looked straight at Farida across Zahir’s shoulder. ‘You may stay and assist me, Your Highness.’

Outside in the silent corridor, Zahir crossed his arms over his chest and paced, grim-faced. A wind was getting up outside. Through the apertures in the narrow windows, it disturbed the glass and brass lanterns hanging from the ceiling and made them tinkle like windchimes.

After what seemed like an interminable period, Farida opened the door. Her smooth forehead was disturbed by a somewhat sad frown. ‘Dr Saffar says you may come back in now.’

‘Is she hurt?’ he demanded.

His sister’s frown deepened. ‘She has some bad bruising either side of her neck and on her collarbone, but the doctor has given me some salve I may apply to help soothe the soreness. I don’t think she registered she was hurt at the time … it was more the psychological shock that affected her. But, Zahir …’

‘What is it?’

‘I think whoever did this may have mistaken Gina for me. We were both sitting with our backs to the refreshment stall—we are of similar size, and she was wearing one of my dresses and a hijab. We were with Hafiz, who had the palace insignia on his tunic, and I am known in Kabuyadir and she is not. What reason would the rebels have for taking her?’

‘None that I can immediately think of.’ He fisted his hands and swore. Rubbing at his temples, he stared at the woman in front of him. ‘It sounds to me like this was a totally opportunist act—not one that was orchestrated. Else why did the assailant act alone in the middle of a crowded marketplace? No … He must have seen Hafiz with the two of you, noted the palace insignia on his tunic and aimed to ingratiate himself with his leader by trying to kidnap you to get at me. The idea of someone abducting you sends a shudder though my soul, but I am equally furious that they hurt Gina—who is, after all, an innocent bystander.’ The wheels of Zahir’s mind were rapidly spinning with thoughts of what to do next.

‘She will make a good recovery I am sure, brother. She is strong, and today I have seen for myself she’s a fighter …

Even though he privately concurred with his sister’s summation, it didn’t prevent his insides from twisting agonisingly at the thought of that uncouth rebel half strangling her. As sure as Allah’s will reigned supreme he and his leader would pay and pay dearly. And so would anybody associated with them. This time Zahir would neither be in the mood nor the market for reasoning—in any shape or form.

‘Your Highness, the captain of the security forces is downstairs, waiting for an audience with you.’ As he walked hurriedly towards them, from the other end of the lofty corridor, Jamal’s usually calm demeanour was a little flustered.

‘Tell him I will be with him shortly.’ Giving his servant the barest glance as he snapped out the instruction, he gestured to his sister to precede him back into Gina’s room. ‘First I must ascertain for myself how Dr Collins fares.’

Zahir had said little to Gina when he’d returned to see her after her examination. How could he when they’d had an audience of his sister and Dr Saffar? But his eyes—those deep, dark, silken orbs—had spoken volumes as they’d studied her. In turn she had felt as if she was developing an incurable fever—a fever that no medicine could cure because the only cure for her malady was him.

He’d indicated that he was going crazy, not being able to be alone with her, and she echoed the feeling with every fibre of her being. Even more so now, after she’d been grabbed by that madman in the marketplace! Now she wanted to grab onto Zahir—to have him exhibit his passion in the most uninhibited feral way—so that she could convince herself she’d survived that attack—still lived, still breathed—and that someone cared, truly cared, that she had.