Название: A Cinderella For The Desert King
Автор: KIM LAWRENCE
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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‘Are they following us?’
‘Maybe. I only managed to disable half the engines before—’ He cut off abruptly as he felt an echo of the swell of rage that had consumed him when he saw the guy raise his hand. ‘Did they...hurt you?’
‘Not in the way you mean.’ She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. It wasn’t fear that kept her eyes closed now but the fact that the mere effort of lifting her eyelids was a struggle.
But she had to try—there were questions she needed to ask. Not deep, meaningful stuff, just the basics, like who was he and where were they going?
‘This is mad,’ she said as another yawn escaped her. She felt weirdly numb and even her bitten arm seemed to have stopped hurting. Eyes closed, hurtling along like this felt strangely like flying, the hand that was looped casually around her ribs keeping her safe.
* * *
‘No, it’s physiology. Shock releases chemicals.’
And never underestimate the power of chemicals, he thought, the memory of the burst of raw rage that had hit him like a tsunami when he had seen the redhead paraded like a piece of meat for the benefit of the pack of rabid scum still fresh in his mind.
For a man who had always taken his ability to approach problems from the vantage point of cool detachment, the knowledge that his struggle to control the initial primal instinct, the rush of visceral hatred, to rush in without considering the consequences when it could have gone either way was disturbing.
‘I’m not in shock,’ she told him, a hint of challenge in her voice as she prised her eyelids apart and gave her head a tiny shake.
He flashed a look downwards at the woman who sat in front of him. The angle meant her face was hidden from him and he could only see the top of her glossy head and the angle of her jaw. It was a stubborn angle, but it had taken more than stubbornness to stand there and throw a punch. It was stupid, yes, but also just about the gutsiest thing he had ever seen.
‘The danger is over and your adrenaline levels are dipping.’
Abby gave a tiny choking laugh, as if she thought the idea she was out of danger was funny.
‘You’ve found something to laugh about in this situation?’
‘I can have hysterics if you prefer,’ she said with annoyance, a strange look coming over her face. Then, ‘I feel sick,’ she warned him suddenly.
‘Don’t be,’ he said, knowing it was an unfeeling response but also knowing they couldn’t stop now. It wasn’t safe.
Luckily for them both her nausea passed, but the bone-deep exhaustion didn’t as he felt her fight the losing battle to stay awake. At last she gave in and when her head next slumped against his chest it stayed there, her breathing deepening and her body relaxing into his.
Zain dragged her soft, limp body in closer, giving the powerful animal free rein, and found the quiet place in his head that had eluded him all day. It turned out that all it took was being fired at, giving away a priceless gem that had been in his family for generations, and having a beautiful, albeit filthy and bedraggled, woman snore softly in his arms. Just when he’d thought life was getting predictable.
His narrowed glance moved once more towards the east, where he could see a ribbon of distant lights that indicated they were being pursued, but they had had a head start and if he made a detour to the Qu’raing oasis their paths would not cross.
The danger was over...so why did he feel as if he was about to face another?
‘TIME TO STRETCH your legs.’
Abby murmured sleepily and ignored the voice but couldn’t ignore the creak of leather and the abrupt removal of the hard warmth she had been pressed against—as illusions of security went, this one was on an epic scale.
Abby fought her way through the layers of sleep and blinked... The ground was a long way off and the horse she sat astride was stamping and snorting restlessly.
She’d been asleep. How on earth had she actually slept?
She arched her back to stretch out the cricks in her spine and felt herself slip, so she grabbed the first thing that came to hand—a piece of horse mane—to regain her balance. Feeling slightly more secure, she risked letting go for a moment to brush away the hair that had fallen across her face, effectively blinding her.
She was half-inclined to pull the silky curtain back in place when her eyes connected with those of the tall man standing, arms folded across his chest, watching her.
Of their own volition, her eyes made the journey up from his dusty boots to the edges of the gold embroidery along the traditional gown he wore. Her throat drying as they reached his face, she lost interest in moving away. He was beautiful in a sharp-intake-of-breath, tummy-clenching way. The carved symmetry of his dark, dramatic features framed by the pale head-covering was riveting.
She quickly shook off her rapt expression, looking away and silently blaming her fascination with the carnal curve of this man’s mouth on the situation... Everything that had happened felt more akin to an out-of-body experience than reality.
‘I’d prefer not to stop,’ she said.
‘Is that a fact?’
His tone made her flush. ‘I just meant...the thing is... I wasn’t alone when they—’ She stopped as, without warning, a wave of revulsion tightened like a fist in her stomach, an echo of the fear she had felt when she had been thrown in the truck. It took her a couple of swallows to regain enough composure to finish huskily, ‘When they took me.’
He watched her thoughtfully as she fought for control.
‘They, the rest of the group I was travelling with, are stranded—we have to...’ She stopped, frustrated because he didn’t seem to grasp the urgency.
‘They are three grown men.’
Relief rushed through her; she’d asked her captors what had happened to the men left behind but the only response she’d had she hadn’t been able to understand. ‘You saw them?’ she said eagerly.
He tipped his head in acknowledgement.
‘They’re not hurt? Did they get the car going?’
‘They have shelter; they can survive a night in the desert.’
‘You haven’t reported their whereabouts to anyone?’
‘Following you seemed a priority at the time.’
She bit her lip. ‘And obviously I’m very grateful. I’m just worried about my friends.’
‘One special friend perhaps?’
The insinuation made her flush. ‘They are work colleagues. I’m a СКАЧАТЬ