Date with a Surgeon Prince(52)

Mazur stopped the cart at the bottom of shallow steps, and Ghazi hopped out, turning to offer his hand to Marni. To her horror, she found that she was shaking—that the simple of touch of this man’s hand had thrown her into a quivering mess.

She tried a smile and said weakly, ‘I was doing fine up till now.’

He squeezed her fingers and she saw the familiar kindness in his eyes—kindness and something else she didn’t recognise.

‘You have been marvellous. Tasnim told me how you helped her remain calm.’

Marni shook her head, and tried a better smile.

‘No, Tasnim did her bit. She told me it was the generations of desert women standing behind her that kept her going.’

Ghazi saw the bravery in her feeble smile and felt the tremors of post-traumatic shock shake her body. He wanted nothing more than to gather her into his arms and hold her close, tell her everything would be all right now—tell her things he barely understood himself.

But Mazur was there, servants appearing from inside the house, and a young woman, obviously chosen by his major domo here to look after Marni, was waiting in the doorway.

‘This is Lila,’ Mazur said, beckoning the woman forward. ‘Lila, will you take Ms Graham to her suite and do whatever she needs you to do.’

So Ghazi had to hand Marni over to a stranger and hope she had the strength to keep going for just a little longer.

‘Does the girl know what is planned?’ he asked Mazur.

‘Only that you wish to see Marni in the majlis in an hour.’

Ghazi heard the doubt in Mazur’s voice—doubt and no little condemnation.

‘I know she’s exhausted but that’s why I must do it now,’ Ghazi told his friend. ‘Once we’re married she can rest.’

‘Did you tell her?’ Mazur demanded, and Ghazi shook his head, unable to explain that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to mention marriage to Marni on the flight.

Because he was afraid she’d object? Refuse to go along with it?

‘Then you should,’ Mazur said firmly. ‘I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but you can’t just drag the woman down the aisle with two witnesses—and why couldn’t I be a witness might I ask?—and expect her to go along with marrying you.’

‘It’s for her safety and as for witnesses, she knows you and I need you to be there as her friend, not mine,’ Ghazi snapped, then he strode away from his friend and mentor, angry, confused and heartsore.

‘We must hurry,’ Lila said as she led Marni along marble corridors and through jewelled archways, finally entering a room with a high domed ceiling, painted a deep, rich purple that matched the curtains around the huge four-poster bed.

‘Why?’ Marni managed to ask, as she took in the magnificence of this room, with its grilled windows looking out to the courtyard.

‘Because we only have an hour. I have drawn a bath, it is all ready for you. I will wash your hair while you are in it, then perfume you and do just a little henna design on your hand because although no one is supposed to know, you will be marrying our prince today.’

‘I will be what?’ Marni demanded, the words muffled as she’d been pulling the long tunic off over her head as she spoke.

‘Getting married,’ Lila said, obviously very excited about the upcoming event.

‘No, and, no, and, no!’ Marni stormed, although she did step into the bath. She could hardly argue with Ghazi stark naked—dirty and stark naked. ‘I’ll have the bath but I’ll wash my hair myself and while I’m doing it you find whoever you have to talk to and get a message to your prince that I’ll see him in my room in twenty minutes.’

‘Oh, but you can’t do that—not in your bedroom,’ Lila protested.

‘No?’ Marni muttered. ‘We’ll see about that! You just get the message to him. And leave some underwear and something I can wear on the bed before you go.’

Sinking into the water, delicately scented and bubbling around her, was pure bliss, but having set her own deadline she couldn’t lie back and enjoy it. She wet her hair and lathered it with shampoo that was handily placed on a shelf alongside the bath, rinsed it off and rubbed conditioner in, then let her hair absorb the treatment while she scrubbed her body clean of sand and dust and dirt.

Emptying the bath water, she stood up beneath the overhead shower and showered off the conditioner, then stepped out of the bath, wrapping herself in a super-soft towel and growing angrier by the minute that she hadn’t been able to revel in the luxury of her first bath in three days.

The memory of when she’d last showered brought a rush of embarrassment, and she wondered if summoning Ghazi to her room might have been a mistake.