Midnight Under The Stars: Woman in a Sheikh's World

CHAPTER FOUR

‘STOP the car!’ For a fleeting second she’d tried telling herself that it wasn’t worth going over this, but her emotions were too raw for that. She was so angry that all of her was shaking. Her knees. Her hands … ‘Stop the damn car, right now.’ She was out of the door before the vehicle came to a standstill and Mal was right behind her, the slam of the door breaking the stillness of the burning air.

Theirs was the only vehicle in sight. They were alone in the spectacular open space of the desert, surrounded by shimmering dunes and the soaring mountains.

‘You intend to walk from here?’

‘Is that really your recollection of events? You truly believe that you “asked” me to marry you?’ Her hair swung across her back as she turned to confront him. Her heart was racing and she felt the heat of the sun beating down on her head. She realised that she’d left her hat in the car, but it was too late to care about that now. ‘We must be existing in a parallel universe or something because I remember it very differently.’ Right now her anger was hotter than anything produced by nature but underneath that pulsing anger were layers of different emotions. Pain. Desire. Sexual awareness. Feelings. Feelings she didn’t want to feel. And he clearly didn’t either if his expression was anything to go by. He was watching her with the same cautiousness he would give an enraged scorpion.

‘Avery—’

‘And when you think about it, that’s not surprising because you never ask anyone anything, do you? You command. You order. You instruct.’ She ticked them off on her fingers while he watched with a dangerous glint in those dark eyes.

‘Are you finished?’

‘I’ve barely started. You’re so arrogant you never involve anyone else in your decisions. No wonder your virgin bride has run into the desert.’

His eyes flared dark. ‘Stop calling her that.’

‘Tell me something.’ Still shaking, Avery put her hands on her hips. ‘Did you actually ask her to marry you, Mal? Or did you just book the wedding and then mention it to her in passing? Perhaps that’s what’s wrong here. Perhaps no one remembered to tell her she was supposed to be getting married. Did you miss her off the invitation list?’

A muscle flickered in his bronzed cheek. ‘I’m the first to admit that my proposal to you went awry, but there were circumstances—’

‘Awry? It didn’t go “awry”, Mal. It didn’t happen. There was no proposal. There was just assumption. Lots of arrogant assumption.’ All the anger and humiliation came piling back on top of her. And the terror. She’d almost lost everything. All of it. Everything she’d worked for. ‘You assumed I was a sure thing. That of course I’d say yes to you because who wouldn’t? You were so sure of yourself you didn’t even pause to think about my needs, and you were so sure of me you didn’t even bother to ask my opinion on the topic. And there are no circumstances that can explain or excuse your arrogance!’

‘And if there were, you wouldn’t listen to them.’

‘The first I knew of your “proposal” was not when you and I had a private moment during which you asked me if I’d consider marrying you, but when one of my biggest clients rang to cancel his contract with me because he’d heard that I was no longer going to be running my company. When I asked him where that rumour had originated, he told me that he’d heard it from you. That you’d told him that once you married me I would no longer be taking on more business. Because of you, I lost clients. I could have lost the whole business. My business. The business I built from nothing.’ The thought of how close she’d come to losing everything that mattered to her sent her spiralling into panic. ‘That is what our “romance” did for me. And you wonder why I’m not romantic?’

There were lines of strain visible around his sensual mouth. ‘That is not what I said to him.’

‘Then what did you say to him because he was pretty sure of his facts when he took his business elsewhere. Important business, I might add. Business that would have led to more business. Instead I found myself explaining to some very confused people why I wasn’t getting married.’

His eyes were a dark, dangerous black. ‘And in doing so you humiliated me.’

‘No, you humiliated me, Mal! You made me look like some brainless, witless woman who was just waiting for a rich, handsome Prince to come along and rescue her from her sad life. All those times you said you loved me for who I was. You said you loved my independence and my strength. And then you cut me off at the knees. Did you really think I’d just give up my business and marry you?’

‘I thought you’d trust me. We’d been together for a year,’ he said in a thickened tone. ‘We were happy together.’

‘We were happy until you tried to take over my life. “Once we’re married she won’t have time to run your parties.” Wasn’t that what you said to him?’

There was a tense silence. ‘Yes. But there were reasons—’

‘Yes, and we both know what those reasons were. You have to be in control. You’ve been giving orders since you were old enough to put two words together and you don’t know any different. The problem is, I’m not great at taking orders, Mal. I like to run my own life. In fact, I insist on it. Damn it, why are we even having this conversation?’ Furious to feel her eyes stinging, she stomped back to the car but as she touched the door handle his hand covered hers. ‘Get away from me. It’s my turn to drive.’

‘This conversation isn’t finished.’

‘It is as far as I’m concerned.’

‘What happened with Richard Kingston was a mis-judgement on my part, I admit it. But there were circumstances—’

‘There isn’t a single circumstance that would successfully excuse a man discussing his marital intentions with everyone before the woman he intended to marry.’ She felt the warmth of his hand, the strength of those fingers as they stayed in contact with hers and forced herself to pull away.

‘Are you crying?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got sand in my eyes. This is a very sandy place.’

‘You’re wearing sunglasses.’

‘Well, clearly they’re not very efficient.’ Furious and miserable, Avery pulled open the door and slid inside. Her heart was pounding, her control shredded and her emotions raw. Why on earth had she decided to put herself through this? And in the desert. A place so closely entwined with her relationship with Mal that she wasn’t even able to look at a picture of it without feeling sad.

On her first visit to Zubran she’d fallen in love. Twice. First with the country; with the contrast between stunning beaches and the wild beauty of the ever-changing dunes. Second, with the man. And somehow the two had become inextricably linked so that she couldn’t imagine one without the other. He was part of this wild place and part of the place existed within him, had bred the strength and resilience that formed that steel core of his personality.

Her feelings for him had terrified her and they terrified her still. And yes, that was why she’d done nothing but snap at him from the moment she’d got into the vehicle. The alternative was allowing that dangerous chemistry to take hold and she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that.

Avery tightened her fingers on the wheel as she drove, every tiny part of her alive with awareness despite all her efforts.

Next to her in the passenger seat, Mal sat sprawled, beautiful eyes narrowed behind sunglasses as he stared ahead.

She was silent and so was he, but that silence did nothing to defuse the tension.

An hour passed.

And another hour.

Neither of them spoke a word. And she was relieved to be driving. Relieved to have something to focus on other than him. Except that it didn’t work like that, of course, because no matter how much she focused on the road, she was still aware of him, right there beside her. Within touching distance, except that she wasn’t allowed to touch. And awareness grew and grew until the air was almost too thick to breathe. Until the desire to touch him was almost overwhelming and she had to grip the wheel until her knuckles were white with the pressure.

This was why she wanted his marriage to go ahead, she thought savagely. Because only then would he be out of her head and out of her heart. She wasn’t the sort of woman who could hold onto feelings for a married man. That would be it. She could get back to a normal life.

After what felt like hours of silence, he finally spoke. ‘We’ll camp by those rocks up ahead.’ His tone was neutral. Devoid of emotion. ‘They should offer some protection from the elements.’

She didn’t need protecting from the elements. She needed protection from him. Or was it herself? She was no longer sure.

Confused and jittery, Avery parked and sprang from the vehicle. ‘You can camp by that rock and I’ll camp by the other.’ Distance, she thought. She needed distance. They needn’t even see each other until morning. She’d zip her tent up and she’d keep it zipped.

‘There is just one tent, Avery.’

‘What?’ His words blew out the foundations of her fledgling plan and answered any remaining questions she had about her feelings for him. ‘Just one? Why?’

‘Why does that matter?’ He seemed unusually interested in her reaction and she pushed away disturbing images of his muscle-packed length stretched next to hers.

‘Well, for a start, it isn’t exactly the done thing for a man to sleep with one woman when he is engaged to marry another. And then there’s always the chance that I’ll kill you in my sleep.’ If she slept. Which seemed unlikely.

‘I don’t intend to sleep with you.’ He leaned in and pulled a bag from the vehicle. ‘Just share a tent with you. It isn’t as if we haven’t done it before.’

But the last time they’d been lovers. Intimate in every way. They were both hot-tempered and stubborn and those traits had simply intensified the sexual connection between them.

Avery watched as he hauled the tent and the gear from the vehicle. ‘Why didn’t you bring two tents?’

‘I wasn’t expecting company. If you recall, you were the one who insisted on coming. Having already spread the word that I wanted a couple of nights in the desert alone, I could hardly articulate the need for a second tent.’ He focused his attention on creating their camp and she forced herself to help, even though doing so brought her into close proximity with him. She tried to subdue the choking, panicky feeling in her chest at the thought of sharing that confined space with him.

He’d be sleeping with his head next to hers. His body within touching distance.

She looked at his shoulders and immediately looked away again.

What if she had one of her nightmares? What if she reached for him in her sleep?

Making a mental note to lie on her hands and stay awake until he was asleep, she helped secure the tent, working without speaking. And it was exasperating to discover that he was as competent at this as he was at everything else.

Avery gritted her teeth. She wasn’t looking for things to admire about him. She didn’t want to admire him. Not when they were about to spend a night crammed into a relatively small space.

At least it wasn’t cold. She’d stay outside until the last possible moment before going into the tent. With luck, he’d be asleep by the time she joined him.

‘Nice to know you can function without staff.’ She watched as he lit a fire and proceeded to cook their supper. He’d thrown a rug on the ground and she knelt on it, watching as the flames flickered to life. ‘So we should reach the oasis tomorrow? What if she isn’t there?’

‘I think she will be.’

‘You could have just asked your security team to check it out.’

‘If I’d done that it would have been impossible to keep this situation contained. I want to keep this as quiet as possible.’

‘To protect your ego.’

‘To protect my bride, at least until I’ve decided how best to sort this out.’ He cooked without fuss, lamb with spices chargrilled over the open flame and served with rice. And because she was trying hard to make the whole experience less intimate she insisted on cooking her own, even though she did nowhere near as good a job as he did.

She burned the edges but still it tasted good and Avery ate hungrily until she caught him looking at her. Immediately her appetite vanished, as if someone had flicked a switch.

‘What? It’s delicious.’

‘It’s hardly gourmet. You eat in five star restaurants all the time and fly in celebrity chefs to cater for your parties.’

‘Yes, but that’s my work. This is different. There’s something about food eaten outdoors in the desert. I’ve always loved it here.’ Immediately she regretted saying it out loud because everything she’d loved about the desert was entwined with everything she loved about him. Not love. She corrected herself quickly. Felt. Everything she loved about the desert was entwined with everything she felt about him.

Because she knew he was looking at her, she kept her eyes on the view and that was no hardship because she could have stared for hours at the desert landscape that altered minute by minute under the fading light. The area he’d picked for camping was rocky, but they were still on the border with Zubran and dunes rose ahead of her, dark gold under the setting sun, the beauty of it holding her captivated until the sun dipped behind a mound and darkness quickly spread over the desert.

Grateful for that darkness, she lifted her eyes to the sky and picked a neutral topic. ‘Why do the stars always seem so much brighter out here?’

‘Less pollution.’ His tone short, he rose to his feet, doused the fire and gestured to the tent. ‘We need to get some rest. I’d like to leave at dawn.’

So he didn’t want to linger any more than she did. Didn’t want to prolong the time they spent together. The knowledge should have brought a feeling of relief but instead she just felt hollow and numb.

‘Dawn is fine with me.’ Anything that meant less time in the tent with him had to be good.

She wiped her bowl clean, nibbled on one of the dates he’d left out on a plate and tried not to think about their first trip into the desert together. It had been at the beginning of their relationship, during those heady first months when they’d been consumed by their feelings for each other. He’d been so frustrated by the unrelenting demands on his time and privacy that he’d arranged a secret trip. They’d joked that he’d kidnapped her, but really they’d stolen time away, as normal couples did all the time. He’d dismissed his security team. She’d left her phone behind. It was the first time they’d really been on their own, away from the craziness of his existence and the craziness of hers.

It had been the happiest week of her life.

Thinking about it now brought a lump to her throat. The ache in her chest felt like a solid lump and she sneaked a glance towards him, only to find him watching her, that dark gaze fiercely intense.

‘Say it.’

‘Say what?’

‘Say what you are thinking.’

Avery swallowed. ‘What am I thinking?’

‘You are thinking of that week we spent together. Just the two of us.’ His voice was rough and suddenly she couldn’t breathe and the panic pressed down on her because that was exactly what she’d been thinking.

‘Actually I was thinking how bleak it is here.’

His expression told her that he didn’t believe her but he didn’t push her. Instead he turned away, leaving her feeling more vulnerable than she ever had before.

Now what?

Not speaking about her feelings didn’t change the fact they existed. And the thought of going into that tent—of being so close to him—kept her sitting outside long after she should have gone inside. She postponed the moment as long as possible. Postponed the moment when they’d be forced together in that cramped, confined space that was designed to force intimacy even between two people who were avoiding it.

Would she have insisted on joining him if she’d known about the sleeping arrangements? No, probably not. Self-preservation would have outweighed the guilt she felt towards Kalila.

Kalila. He was going to marry Kalila.

She had no idea how long she sat there. Time blurred. Misery deepened. Fatigue, the mortal enemy of optimism, caught up with her.

‘Avery? You need to come inside the tent now. It’s dark.’ His voice was deep and sexy and she squeezed her eyes closed and tried to block out the images created by that voice.

‘I’m not afraid of the dark.’

‘No, you are afraid of intimacy, but intimacy is not on offer so you are perfectly safe in this tent with me.’

‘I’m not afraid of intimacy.’

‘Good. In that case, get in this tent before you become a tasty snack for a desert creature. Unless you’d rather I pick you up and put you here myself?’

That would be the worst of all options. She didn’t want him to touch her but she knew he would make good on his threat if she didn’t move, so she put her hand down on the rug to lever herself up and felt a sharp pain. ‘Ow.’ She snatched her hand away and there was a scuttling sound. ‘What—? Ugh, Mal, something just bit me. And it rattles.’

He was by her side in an instant. The torch flashed and a scorpion scuttled under the rug.

‘Not a rattlesnake—a scorpion. Good.’

‘Good? Why is it good? From where I’m sitting it’s seriously creepy. If we were playing “marry, kiss or push off a cliff”, the scorpion would be the one off the cliff, I can tell you that.’ Her voice rose and she hugged her hand to her chest. ‘Are there any more out here?’

‘Hundreds, probably. They come out at night.’

‘Hundreds?’ Horrified, she sprang at him, clinging like a monkey. ‘Don’t put me down.’

‘Avery—’

‘Whatever you do, don’t put me down. I’m never touching the floor again. Do you seriously mean hundreds? Please tell me you’re kidding.’

She’d forgotten how strong he was. His arms closed around her, strong, protective. She thought he might have been laughing but told herself he wouldn’t dare laugh at her.

‘I thought you were fine with desert wildlife.’

‘I’m fine with the theory. Not so good with the reality when it closes its jaws on me. And if you dare laugh I will kill you, Your Highness. Just a warning.’

‘I’m not laughing. But I’m not going to let you forget this in a hurry.’

‘I just bet you’re not.’ She buried her face in his neck, wondering why he had to smell so good.

‘It’s worth savouring. The moment Avery Scott became a damsel in distress.’

‘No one will ever believe you and I will deny it until my dying breath, which may be soon if there are truly hundreds of those things out there. I’m not distressed. More freaked out. I can tell you this is the first time in my life I’ve jumped on a man.’

‘I’m flattered you chose me,’ he drawled. ‘As a matter of interest, are you going to let go?’

‘Are they still out there?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then I’m not letting go. You threatened to carry me to the tent. Go ahead.’ She tightened her grip and he gave a soft curse.

‘You’re choking me.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘If I die, you fall to the ground and they’ll swarm all over you.’

‘You have a sick sense of humour.’ But she loosened her grip. ‘Move, Mal! I want to be in the tent.’

‘Damsels in distress don’t usually give the orders. And I was in the tent. You were the one who chose scorpions over my company. Are you telling me that you’re rethinking that choice?’

‘Don’t be flattered. All it means is that you’re better than a scorpion. Don’t make me beg.’ She clung, her hands pressed to those solid shoulders. ‘Are you laughing?’

‘No.’

‘Good, because if you were laughing, I’d have to punch you with my good hand. My other hand hurts. Am I going to die?’

‘It is rare for scorpion bites to cause fatalities.’

‘Rare? So that means that sometimes people die, right?’

His hesitation was brief. ‘Yes, but it’s usually only in the very young or in people with health issues and you don’t fall into either category.’