Bella's Disgrace

‘While you were delirious with the heat, you talked. You kept saying, “No, Olivia, don’t do it. Don’t do it.” Who is Olivia?’

‘Just someone I know,’ Bella whispered, her body trembling. Suddenly she wondered just how much she’d revealed. ‘What else did I say?’ Had she talked about her other sister Zoe? Had she said anything else about that terrible night?

‘Nothing much. Did no one know you were leaving the Retreat?’

‘No.’ Bella thought back to the conversation she’d had with Atif. ‘But I think they’ll guess.’

‘And they will send out a search party,’ her rescuer snapped, ‘which is the last thing we want.’

‘I agree! If they find me they’ll just drag me back for more torture—’ Her eyes narrowed speculatively as she thought about what he’d just said. ‘Wait a minute. Why wouldn’t you want a search party to find me? It shouldn’t bother you, unless … you don’t want anyone to know where you are … ‘ Her mind working, she rubbed her fingers along her forehead, trying to ease the pain in her head. ‘And if you don’t want anyone to know where you are, it means that normally people do know where you are, which in turn means that you’re either a dangerous murderer on the run from justice, or you’re someone important—’

‘I haven’t yet been driven to murder anyone,’ he gritted, ‘but that moment could be fast approaching. You clearly do have a very agile imagination and you talk a great deal for someone who was almost unconscious a few moments ago.’

‘I have remarkable powers of recovery. So if you’re not a criminal, then you must be famous.’ Bella drew her legs up and rested her chin on her arms, determined not to reveal just how ill she was feeling. ‘You’re the Sheikh, aren’t you? That’s why you don’t want anyone to know where you are.’ Watching closely, she saw his immediate withdrawal. His shoulders straightened and his eyes were suddenly blank.

‘What do you know about the Sheikh?’

‘Very little. But Atif told me you spend a week every year in the desert.’ She gave a soft gasp of understanding. ‘That’s why you don’t want a search party, isn’t it? This is your week in the desert and you don’t want anyone to know where you are.’

‘You are making a great number of assumptions.’

‘All of which are right. There’s no need to get defensive. I know all about wanting to avoid people. And I know how to keep secrets.’ Bella rubbed her fingers over her cheeks and grimaced as she felt how dry her skin was. ‘I’ll do you a deal. I won’t say I saw you, if you don’t say you saw me.’

‘This is not a joke.’

‘Neither is my headache.’ Exhausted from the conversation, Bella flopped back onto the bed and closed her eyes. ‘Stop glaring at me. You’re very bad tempered. That’s what meditation does for you. You should try thinking less.’

‘Perhaps you should try thinking more, and then you would not find yourself in such scrapes.’

Deciding that it was time to get herself out of this mess, Bella swung her legs out of bed, stood and promptly collapsed in an undignified heap on the floor of the tent. ‘Oops. Horizontal again and I haven’t even had a drink.’ She kept up the banter, too proud to admit how ill she felt. ‘Look, just point me towards Al—whatever it’s called, and I’ll be out of your way. You can go back to your life and I can go back to mine.’ Although what she was going to do with no source of income, she had no idea. Her father had cut off her allowance.

If she was at home she would have called one of the glossy magazines and offered herself for a cover shoot, but that wasn’t exactly an option in the desert.

Did anyone employ models in this part of the world?

Even if they did, they weren’t going to find her attractive at the moment.

He obviously didn’t.

Strong hands lifted her to her feet. ‘Given that you don’t have the strength to cross the tent, how do you propose to make this journey safely?’

‘Just lend me a horse. I’ll be fine.’ Overcome by a wave of dizziness, Bella looked for something to lean on. The only solid object seemed to be his chest, so she used that. Feeling hard muscle and solid male strength, awareness sliced through her, taking her by surprise. ‘You smell really good,’ she muttered. ‘But I guess women tell you that all the time.’

He said something in a language she didn’t understand and the next minute he’d released her and she crumpled to the floor in a heap again.

‘All right, maybe women don’t tell you that all the time.’

He’d pushed her away. Men never pushed her away.

It was always the other way round.

Still battling with the terrible dizziness, she risked a glance at him and clashed with furious black eyes.

‘You have no idea how to behave.’

‘You’re right.’ Bella dug her nails into her legs, fighting back a sudden rush of nausea. Oh, God, she felt hideously ill. And she was stuck with a man with a bad attitude and a dagger. ‘You’d better get rid of me. Just lend me a horse and I’m out of here.’

‘I will not lend you a horse.’

‘Why not?’ Her pride severely dented by his rejection, Bella suddenly wished she had access to her bathroom at Balfour Manor. And her hairdresser. Then this arrogant man wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to push her away. Deciding that extra charm was needed to compensate for her sunburned face and sandy hair, she treated him to her most seductive smile. ‘You don’t need two horses. That’s just greedy.’

‘My stallion would kill you in minutes, and the mare is too valuable to risk with a novice.’

Affronted by his derogatory tone, Bella was about to confess that she knew a great deal about horses but decided that the less he knew about her the better.

She was feeling sicker and dizzier by the minute and it was dawning on her that she was stranded in the desert at the mercy of this stranger who thought she was a horse thief. ‘I just want to get back to the city. I could make it in a couple of hours.’

‘It takes longer than a couple of hours.’ His tone dripped acid and he paced to the far side of the tent, every line of his powerful frame rigid with tension as he contemplated the situation. ‘Without an escort, you would not make it.’

Bella struggled to stand, wavering like a newborn foal yet to become acquainted with its legs. Ignoring the obvious challenges of playing the seductress when it was difficult to put one leg in front of the other, she walked across to him. ‘Then won’t you escort me? Please?’ Her voice coaxing, she placed her hand on his biceps and felt hard, solid muscle under her fingers.

He was strong. Really strong.

Without thinking what she was doing, she slid her fingertips slowly over his arm, fascinated by his physical strength.

The breath hissed through his teeth and he looked down at her, the raw sexuality in his shimmering gaze punching the breath from her body.

Chemistry arced between them and Bella responded to his unmistakably male appraisal with a slow, feminine smile.

So he wasn’t immune.

It was a boost to her confidence to know that even without the help of her hairdresser, she could still twist a man around her little finger.

You’re going to be giving me that horse as a gift in a minute, she thought with a flash of relief, peeping at him from under her lashes.

It was a look that had never failed her. Even without the extra help of mascara, she was optimistic that she could work her usual magic.

‘I know you’ll help me,’ she said breathlessly, deciding that a man as macho as him would respond best to a weak-female-in-trouble approach. All she needed to do was take advantage of his need to feel like a man and at least flirting took her mind off the fact she was lost in the desert with a stranger.

Searching for just the right phrase to boost a fragile ego, she gave a faltering smile. ‘I—I don’t think I can cope by myself.’

He didn’t return the smile. ‘Given that I’ve already had to rescue you once, I don’t need you to tell me that you can’t cope by yourself. I have reached that conclusion without assistance.’

Angry, Bella turned red. And now she was trapped. If she snapped that she was perfectly capable of looking after herself, then there was no way he’d help her.

Frustrated, she decided that the only other trick worth trying was agreeing with him. Men liked that, didn’t they? It made them feel clever.

Ignoring her inner woman who was gearing up to slap his arrogant face, she lifted her blue eyes to his, switching her expression to helpless.

‘You’re right.’ She conjured up her most pathetic voice. ‘I can’t cope. I’m a disaster.’ Trying not to reflect on the fact that her father would actually have agreed with that statement, Bella cleared her throat and added extra weight to her image of vulnerability by fluttering her eyelashes.

‘You seem to be having some sort of problem with your eyes,’ he drawled. ‘Is it sand? If so, then I recommend that you splash them with water.’

Bella couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. ‘So you do have a sense of humour under that severe exterior.’

‘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?’

Zafiq had a disturbing image of this blonde, defiant beauty dressed in thin veils and bound at the wrists and ankles, awaiting his pleasure. ‘I hadn’t considered that option, but I will bear it in mind.’

His reply seemed to unsettle her. The dangerous gleam in her sexy eyes was almost enough to make Zafiq rethink his ultimatum.

She was the most alluring, tempting woman he’d ever met.

‘We will get along very well together,’ he said in a cool tone. ‘As long as you obey certain basic rules.’

‘And what are those?’ She flicked her hair out of her eyes in an unconsciously graceful gesture. ‘I just have to do everything you say, Your Highness?’

‘Yes.’ He watched as she swayed slightly and suddenly he remembered how long she’d been exposed to the sun. She must be feeling awful and yet she was determined to hide it from him and it was impossible not to admire that. ‘You’re still suffering from dehydration. Drink something.’

‘You might be a sheikh, but could you stop ordering me around? It brings out the worst in me.’ But she sank back onto the mattress and reached for the glass, her hand shaking as she sipped the water. ‘I feel filthy. My hair is full of sand. Does this tent have an en-suite bathroom or anything?’

For some reason he found her sense of humour every bit as disturbing as her more obvious charms. People were usually stilted and formal around him. They didn’t crack jokes. ‘As it happens, there is an en-suite bathroom. Outside the tent. This is an oasis. There’s a pool.’

‘I hope it’s an infinity pool with a bar serving iced drinks in the corner and a changing room. Or am I supposed to strip off in public?’

‘It’s not public. I’m the only person here.’

‘Well …’ She took another sip of water and then put the glass down. ‘In that case, no peeping. And what about the creatures you mentioned before? Am I likely to be eaten while I’m bathing?’

He refrained from admitting that she was probably the most dangerous creature in the area. ‘I doubt you’ll be eaten.’

‘Good, because I don’t have a particular desire to be tonight’s takeaway for some hungry camel.’

‘Camels are herbivores.’

She shuddered and lifted her hands, palms towards him like a stop sign, but there was a twinkle of mischief in those eyes. ‘Don’t mention herbs to me again—after a week at the Retreat, I never want to hear about herbs again. I don’t want to eat them, and I don’t want to drink them.’ Her cheeks dimpled and a smile burst across her face like the sun emerging from behind a cloud. ‘And I don’t want to ride on one either. If there’s herb in the word, count me out. I suppose it’s useless to ask if you have a change of clothes? Mirror? Hairdryer?’

‘Wash your clothes in the oasis.’ He was irritated by how much that smile affected him. ‘They’ll dry quickly if you put them on a rock.’

‘And in the meantime I’m supposed to walk around naked?’

‘In the meantime you wear a robe.’ It might be a good for his sanity, Zafiq thought grimly, to cover her up from head to foot. The mere mention of the word naked was enough to make him consider jumping back in the pool himself simply for its cooling effects on his overtaxed libido. ‘And stay out of the sun.’

Bella sank under the still surface of the water. Her skin was burning from the sun exposure; she felt hot, grubby and unattractive but she did feel better now that she’d cooled off, and it was bliss to wash off the sand that appeared to have stuck to every part of her skin. There was no mirror in the tent but the Sheikh’s indifference to her as a woman told her everything she needed to know.

Clearly she looked a complete fright. Like some sort of alien sand monster. If she’d been thinking clearly she would have bathed in the pool before trying to talk him into taking her to the city.

Still unable to believe that he was going to make her stay here with him, she glared at the outside of the large white tent.

Where was he anyway? Meditating?

Bella frowned as she tried to see her reflection in the water.

No, a man with muscles like that had to do something more physical than meditate.

Was he watching her?

The thought made her shiver and she dipped under the water again and did her best to remove the sand from her hair, methodically working on it section by section.

‘Never again am I taking shampoo for granted.’ Despite her disappointment at not being back in the city, she had to admit that the pool was beautiful. Shaded by palm trees, the calm, glassy surface of the water reflected the perfectly blue sky, and beyond the palm trees the dunes rose steeply, turned to a shade of pinky orange by the late-afternoon sun.

It wasn’t the city, but it was better than being trapped in the Retreat. Better than having to meditate or contemplate or whatever, Bella mused as she cleansed the last section of her hair and then turned onto her back. Floating in the peaceful pool, staring up at the sky, she felt unusually tranquil.

In fact, the whole situation was surprisingly relaxing.

The Sheikh had no idea who she really was. He knew nothing of the latest Balfour scandal. They’d probably never even heard of the Balfours out here in the desert.

Which suited her perfectly.

Although she’d hated the Retreat, Bella knew she couldn’t go home.

What was there to go home for?