Сара Морган – Bella's Disgrace (страница 7)

‘I’m not laughing.’

‘Well, you should! It would do you good! You’re way too grumpy. Oh, just forget it. Flirting with you is too much like hard work,’ Bella said crossly, seriously worried that she seemed to have lost the only skill she possessed. ‘If you won’t help me, I’ll just go by myself!’

‘An interesting transformation. Innocent to independent in one blink of an eyelash. You’re a very manipulative woman. And slow to learn.’

Bella gasped. ‘I’m not slow!’

‘But you admit to being manipulative. Interesting.’ His smile lacked humour. ‘The only way you will make it out of this desert alive is if you are escorted.’

‘Then escort me,’ she said sweetly, peeping at him from under her lashes, but his answering gaze was hard and unyielding.

‘Is that what men do when you look at them? Do they roll over and say yes?’

‘The rolling over part usually comes after the yes,’ Bella said flippantly, feeling her anxiety increase by the minute. He just didn’t respond to her the way other men did.

‘Your morals are clearly as suspect as your judgement.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with my judgement.’

‘You chose to ride through a desert. That behaviour borders on the insane.’ He extracted himself from her grip with a deliberate movement and Bella looked at him in dismay, horrified to discover that the lump was back in her throat.

Her life had fallen apart and she appeared to have lost the only thing she’d ever been sure of. Her ability to attract men. And that was all she had, wasn’t it? That was her gift. She wasn’t clever like her sister Annie; she wasn’t sweet and kind like Emily, or practical like Olivia..

She had blue eyes. She had blonde hair. And the combination had stopped working. Feeling incredibly vulnerable, she looked away. ‘Look, you obviously hate me and that’s fine. I don’t care. Surely that’s all the more reason to escort me back to the city where you’ll never have to see me again. I promise I won’t be any trouble—’

And finally he laughed. ‘The word could have been invented just for you. You have trouble written all over you.’

‘Then the sooner you escort me out of your life, the better,’ Bella said hopefully and he shook his head, still laughing.

‘You just can’t help it, can you? You have to flirt. I’m tempted to give you seven veils just to see how far you’re prepared to go to get what you want.’

Distracted by how seriously attractive he was when he laughed, Bella stared at him. ‘Do women really dance for you? Using veils?’

‘People do whatever I want them to do,’ he said silkily, and she felt her stomach perform a series of elaborate acrobatics.

‘More fool them. I wouldn’t dance for you.’

His smile was supremely confident. ‘I’m the ruling sheikh. If I order you to dance, you’ll dance.’

‘And if I refuse?’ It was weird, she mused, this combination of raw fear and shocking chemistry.

His smile faded and he looked at her with disturbing intensity. ‘You are wilful and reckless.’

‘Absolutely right.’ Abandoning the helpless woman act, Bella tried a different approach. ‘You don’t want me around. As you say, I’m more trouble than I’m worth. So why don’t you just lend me the friendly horse that isn’t likely to kill me and I’ll go and be wilful and reckless somewhere you can’t see me.’

They stared at each other for a long, tense moment.

Then he surprised her by taking her face in his hands.

His fingers were firm and strong on her face and Bella wondered if he could feel the frantic beat of her heart. Did she have a pulse anywhere near his fingers?

A slow, heavy weakness spread through her limbs but she knew that the lethargy had nothing to do with her recent spell in the desert and the feeling shocked her because she never felt anything for men. She used them, the way they used her.

His gaze held hers. ‘I’ll escort you back to the city—’

Hypnotised by his velvety dark eyes, Bella felt a rush of relief. ‘Thank you so much, you’re a really wonderful person. I knew it the moment you walked into the tent. I knew that all that scary warrior stuff was all an act. And that dagger is obviously ornamental. I bet it isn’t even sharp—’ ‘Do you always interrupt people?’ ‘Often,’ Bella breathed, distracted by the beauty of his eyes. ‘Sorry, what were we 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?’