Bedded By The Desert King. Susan Stephens
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Название: Bedded By The Desert King
Автор: Susan Stephens
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9781408941461
isbn:
Looking further, Zara was relieved to see that at least the palm trees clustering round the wadi had survived. But they were bent at such an acute angle their fronds were brushing the water…She found it much easier to walk in the flat sandals Abbas had provided and was suddenly eager to escape the confines of the tent. Hurrying over to the nearest palm, she touched its trunk gently with her hand. ‘Will it recover?’ She glanced at Abbas, who had come to stand by her shoulder.
‘Yes,’ he reassured her. ‘The trunks of the palm are as flexible as the poles used to support the tent and so they will recover, given time.’
Leaving her, he strode towards the second tent, which had also survived the onslaught of the storm. Picking up her skirts, Zara hurried after him.
There was no sign of the trader or his camel. There was nothing to show that he had been there at all other than a bundle hanging from the fronds of a palm. ‘What is it?’ Shading her eyes, she looked up into the branches.
‘I have already told you that hospitality is instilled at birth in the Bedouin, and so is repayment of the debt.’
Was Abbas sending her a hidden message? Zara wondered, pressing him to continue.
‘That cache will contain whatever the trader can safely spare. It is his way of thanking me. But I am honour bound not to touch anything I don’t need, the point being I must consider the needs of others over myself.’
His words sent a shiver tracking her spine. ‘Perhaps I could copy some prints to send to you when I get home…I have taken some good landscapes…’ As she gestured around, Zara felt her offer wasn’t enough. ‘And I’ll send you a cheque too, of course.’ She couldn’t bear freeloaders and didn’t want Abbas mistaking her for one.
‘A cheque?’
‘Money for the time I’ve spent here as your guest…’
‘I do know what a cheque is. I just wondered why you should feel it necessary to send one to me.’
‘To cover the cost of sheltering me, of course,’ she said, frowning.
‘Are you always so scrupulous?’
‘Yes.’ She held his gaze steadily. ‘I never use people and then just walk away.’
‘But you haven’t left yet,’ he pointed out, ‘and I may need to add something to your account.’
Zara’s eyes widened. She didn’t know whether to believe Abbas or not.
He couldn’t resist provoking her just a little more. Three days and nights…It was an outrageous idea, even if he had based his assertion on ancient lore. Traditions such as that had never been meant to apply to a situation like this. But he could hardly blame his ancestors for not factoring into their thinking one reckless young female who had ventured into the desert without a chaperon.
And the storm hadn’t finished with them yet. This was only a lull. What he should do was dispatch her to the spare tent to wait out the weather and then send her on her way with Aban. But he had been a long time alone in the desert and he was only human. The girl was strong and self-assured, mature beyond her years; she knew the score.
He followed her back into the pavilion, noticing how she resented the yards of material flapping round her ankles. Having forgotten to pick up her skirts, she looked like an ungainly fawn as she struggled to cope with the flowing robe. Big brown eyes and that shock of golden hair peeping out beneath the veil only added to the illusion. He liked her in the veil; it suited her—softened her.
‘Is another storm coming?’ she asked anxiously, turning to face him as a gust of wind snatched the veil from her head.
‘I think we should go back inside,’ he advised.
‘If there is another storm, how long do you think it will last?’
For a mischievous moment, as he secured the entrance behind them, he was tempted to leave what he was doing and stride outside to sniff the air. But play-acting wasn’t his thing. The truth was, he didn’t have a clue. They hadn’t taught weather forecasting on his course at Harvard Business School.
‘What shall we do to pass the time?’
The innocent question was negated by the look in her eyes and his senses, already sharpened by his days of denial in the desert, raged out of control. He found it ironic that the desert had given her to him. The coincidence of them meeting in thousands of square miles of hostile land was incredible, but she had come to him with the dawn—his virgin, Adara. Fortunately, her manner, her eyes, her body language all assured him she was no such thing. When they were both sated and his mind clear again, he would return to Zaddara and take up his duties. This would be his last self-indulgence before duty claimed him.
And now there was only one thing still plucking at his mind. According to Zaddaran tradition there was no such thing as coincidence; there was only destiny.
She went to check her camera and as he looked at her something inside him softened briefly. ‘You may take a handful of photographs if you wish—but only of objects and your surroundings. As an aide-memoire for your trip,’ he added. He wasn’t prepared for the look on her face of sheer surprised delight and found it gave him pleasure to please her.
‘That’s very good of you. I promise I’ll be quick…’ She reached for the camera. ‘I know I haven’t exactly been the easiest guest. Do you forgive me?’
As she turned her face up to him, he wanted to tell her just how much. The appeal in her eyes made his heart turn over which, as far as he could recall, had never happened before. The offer of the photographs had changed something. It was almost as if an understanding, a bond, had developed between them.
She was scrupulously fair and obviously knew what she was doing. She took a few shots of the tent and some objects and then put the camera away. ‘There, I’ve finished. Thank you…’
His gaze was drawn to her lips, reddened where she had chewed on them while she was concentrating on her work. And now there were questions in her eyes: Did he find her attractive? Did he want her? Did he want her enough to make love to her? The answer to all three was, of course, yes. Her lips were slightly parted and damp where she had moistened them. She wasn’t afraid to hold his gaze. She was beautiful and she was ready, and she was waiting for him to make the first move.
‘Three days and three nights?’ She made it sound like a request. And, as she stared at him, his hunger surged to a new level. He had expected many things of his retreat in the desert, but not this forwardness of a young woman who had appeared out of nowhere like a gift…
‘And then we will part asking nothing of each other,’ he confirmed.
As silence descended between them they both knew it could only have one outcome. And it was a delicious СКАЧАТЬ