Awakened by Her Desert Captor(17)

 But he'd been disgusted. Yet not disgusted enough not to kiss her. And  she'd responded-which said dire things about her own sense of  self-worth.

 Thank God she'd managed to pull back. To show some small measure of  dignity. If she hadn't, she could well imagine that Arkim might have  laid her down on that stone floor and had her there and then-and  discovered for himself just how innocent she was. Sylvie balked at that  prospect.

 The sunlight streaming into the room reminded her of the fact that  Arkim had said they'd be leaving. She sank back on the bed. She'd done  it. She'd managed to resist him and disgust him so completely that he  was prepared to take her home. In spite of the mutual physical lust that  sparked between them like crackling fire whenever they got close.

 She hated to admit it, but that sense of deflation hadn't lifted. Had  she enjoyed sparring with Arkim so much? Had she wanted him to take her  in spite of what he thought of her? In spite of her brave words last  night?

 Yes, said a small voice, deep inside. Because he's connected with you on a level that no other man ever has.

 Sylvie felt disgusted with herself. Was she so wounded inside after  her father's rejection of her that this was the only way she could feel  desire? For a man who rejected her on every level but the physical?

 Someone knocked on the door and she reached for her robe, pulling it  on. Halima appeared, smiling, with breakfast on a tray. She set it up on  a table near the French doors and opened them wide.

'The storm has passed! It will be good weather for your trip with the Sheikh.'

'My trip...?' Sylvie said quietly, assuming Halima meant her trip home.

 The other girl chattered on.'Yes, the oasis is so beautiful this time  of year...and the way it emerges from the desert-it's like a lush  paradise.'

 Sylvie frowned, confused.'Wait-the oasis? Arkim-I mean, the Sheikh isn't leaving to go home today?'

 Now Halima looked confused.'No, he is preparing for his trip and you  are going with him. I am to pack enough things for a few days.'

 Sylvie's heart-rate picked up pace, along with her pulse. What was Arkim up to now?

 She rushed through her breakfast and got washed, and when she  re-emerged into the suite Halima was waiting with her bag packed.

 Sylvie had dressed in simple cargo pants and a T-shirt. Halima took  one look and tutted, saying something about more suitable clothing.  Sylvie followed the girl into the dressing room, which Sylvie hadn't  explored fully yet, having been intent on using her own clothes. But now  Halima was opening the wardrobe doors, and Sylvie gasped when she saw  what looked like acres of beautiful fabric: dresses, trousers... All  with designer labels.

'Whose are these?' she breathed, letting the silk of one particularly  beautiful crimson dress move through her fingers. The thought of them  belonging to another woman-or women-was stinging Sylvie in a place that  was not welcome.

'They're yours, of course. The Sheikh had them delivered especially for you before your arrival.'

 Shock made Sylvie speechless for a moment, and then she said  carefully,'Are you sure they aren't left over from the last woman he  had here?'

 Halima turned and looked at her, incomprehension clear on her pretty  face.'Another woman? But he's never brought anyone else here.'

 Sylvie knew she wasn't lying-she was too sweet...innocent. Her heart  started beating even harder. She'd assumed this exotic remote bolthole  was one of Arkim's preferred places to decamp with a mistress. She would  never have guessed she was the first woman he'd brought here.

'Here-you should change into this.'         

     



 

 Sylvie blinked and saw Halima holding out a long cream tunic with  beautiful gold embroidery. Like a more elaborate version of the tunic  Arkim had put on her when he'd found her in the desert.'You're  burning.' His reprimand came back.

'Is this a cultural thing?' Sylvie asked Halima as she slipped out of her trousers.

'Well, yes. Where you're going is more rural, and conservative. But  it's also practical. It protects you from the heat and sun.'

'Where you're going.' Sylvie was very aware that she had given no  indication to the girl that she was not going on this trip. Was she  going to just...go? Acquiesce? Her pulse tripped again at the thought,  and a wave of heat seemed to infuse her skin from toe to head.

 The tunic was matched with close-fitting trousers in a beautiful soft  cotton material. They too were embroidered with gold. And then Halima  was placing a gossamer-light matching shawl around her shoulders. Soft  flat shoes completed the outfit.

 Sylvie caught sight of herself in a mirror and sucked in a breath. Her  hair stood out vibrantly against the light colours of the clothes. She  looked...not like herself-but perversely more like herself in a way  she'd never seen before.

 Halima tweaked Sylvie's shawl over her head, and then they were  walking down the corridor. She felt a little like a bride being walked  to face her fate.

 Sylvie chastised herself for being so compliant. Of course she wanted  to leave. Of course she had no intention of going off to this  admittedly, intriguing-sounding oasis with a man who felt nothing for  her and yet made her body come alive in a way that made her want to  descend with him into a pit of fire.

 She was going to tell Arkim she had no intention of-

 All her thoughts faded to nothing when they rounded the corner into the main hall and Sylvie saw Arkim waiting for her.





  CHAPTER SIX

 HE SIMPLY TOOK her breath away. It was as if she'd never seen him  before. He was so tall and exotic, in a long dark blue tunic. Still  stern...

 It made her yearn for things: to see him smile, unbend. To know more about him. Dangerous things.

 The staff left their bags between two Jeeps and melted away into the  shadows. Sylvie was aware that this was the moment when she should make  it absolutely clear that she had no intention of going with Arkim to  this oasis. But she was rooted to the spot-caught and mesmerised by  those obsidian eyes.

 There was an intense silent conversation happening between them. He  was issuing a direct challenge with that fathomless gaze. A challenge  that she felt in every pulsing, throbbing beat of her blood. A challenge  of the most sensual kind. A challenge to step up and own her femininity  in a way she'd never done before. A challenge to go with him.

 She felt giddy...breathless. The palms of her hands were damp with perspiration that had nothing to do with the heat.

 It came down to this: did she want this man enough to throw her  self-respect to the winds and risk the bitter sting of  self-recrimination for ever? Did she want to give him the satisfaction  of knowing that he was right? That ultimately she couldn't resist him?  And did she want to risk the worst kind of rejection?

 He moved, and her breath hitched at the sheer grace and beauty of his  masculinity. He stopped in front of her. She could see the tension in  his form and on his face. It made something inside her soften, uncoil.  Closer, like this, he was infinitely more seductive, less formidable.  And infinitely harder to resist.

'There are two Jeeps behind me.'

 Sylvie had seen them. She nodded.

'The one on the left will take you back to the airfield where we  landed the other day-if you want it to. The one on the right is the one  I'm taking to the oasis. I told you last night that we'd both be  leaving, but I've decided to stay. I want you to stay with me, Sylvie. I  think there are things about you that I don't know...that I want to  know. And I want you. This isn't about the past or the wedding any more.  I've made my point. This is about...us. And it's been about us since  the moment we met.'         

     



 

 His mouth twisted.

'Perhaps our failing all along has been that we didn't pursue this  attraction at the time. If we had we wouldn't be standing here now.'

 Sylvie's chest contracted with a mixture of volatile emotions.'Because you'd be married to my sister? That's heinous-'

 His finger against her lips stopped her words. He looked disgusted. He  took his finger away, but not before Sylvie had the strongest urge to  take it into her mouth.

'No. I never would have pursued your sister with marriage in mind if we had had an affair.'

 Affair. The word hit her hard. Arkim didn't need to clarify the fact  that Sylvie would never in a million years be a contender for marriage  or a relationship.

 Right now she felt very certain that she would be getting into the  Jeep on the left. But then his mouth softened into those dangerously  sensual lines and he slid a hand around her neck, under her hair.  Suddenly she couldn't think straight.

'If we don't do this...explore our mutual desire...it'll eat us up  inside like acid. If you're strong enough to walk away, to deny this,  then go ahead. I won't come after you, Sylvie. You'll never see me  again.'

 She wanted to pour scorn on Arkim's words. The sheer arrogance! As if  she wanted to see him again! She should be pulling away from him and  saying good riddance. But there was a quality to his voice... Something  almost...rough. Pleading. And the thought of never seeing him again made  her want to reach out and grip the material of his tunic in her fist.  Not walk away.