Hidden in the Sheikh's Harem: Christmas at the Castello(4)

The sound of footsteps pausing at the entrance of his tent brought his  head up and he shoved the sharp rock beneath him. When the flap was  raised he feigned sleep, hoping that whoever had arrived would leave  quickly so he could get on with sawing at his bindings. If they were  checked now there was no way the person wouldn't notice what he'd been  up to.

With his senses on high alert, he listened to the sound of the  soldier's footfalls. A lightweight, he decided. About one hundred and  twenty pounds. Someone he could take easily if it came to that. Unable  to smell food, he wondered what the soldier wanted. It was too soon for a  toilet break so he kept his features impassive. Whoever it was had gone  a few too many rounds with a camel, by the smell of them.

'I know you're not asleep,' a low, sexy voice murmured, sending ripples  of awareness across his skin. Hell, that was some voice the soldier  had, and he slowly peeled his eyes open, curiosity getting the better of  him. He took in black steel-capped boots and combat trousers and moved  up the slender figure from the dusty midthigh-length tunic that covered a  small pair of breasts plumped up by rigidly folded arms. His gaze  lifted to an unsmiling but feminine face that was shadowed by the  tribe's traditional red-checked keffiyeh. Not a guy, then-a relief,  given his body's instant reaction to the voice.                       
       
           



       

'And I know you're not a man even though you're dressed like one. I didn't know Hajjar allowed women in his army of rebels.'

She stiffened slightly. 'Who I am is not important.'

Zach leant his head back against the pole and watched her. She was  quite petite overall and was probably less than one twenty, now that he  got a good look at her. Maybe one ten, he assessed with the clinical  precision left over from his army days.

The taut silence lengthened between them but he knew it wouldn't take  her long to break it. Her energy was twitchy despite her outwardly cool  composure.

'I want to make a deal with you,' she finally said.

A deal?

The rage he'd been feeling earlier that had been eclipsed momentarily  by curiosity returned with full force. He controlled it but barely. 'Not  interested.' He knew Nadir would be looking for him-and if he didn't  get here soon he had his own escape plans-and then he'd bring hell down  on Mohamed Hajjar for holding him like this.

The girl's eyes flashed darkly before she subdued them. 'You haven't heard what I'm offering yet.'

'If you wanted to gain my attention you should have worn less.' He  raked her body with his impassive gaze. 'A lot less. Possibly nothing at  all, although even then I'm not sure you have what it takes to hold my  interest.'

A lie, because for some reason she already had it. But his taunt had hit its mark if her little gasp was anything to go by.

'My father is right. You're a lowly dog who doesn't deserve to rule our country.'

'Your father?'

Farah Hajjar? Mohamed's daughter? Well, well, wasn't that interesting?  His gaze raked her again and he nearly smiled when he caught the  self-disgusted look that crossed her face at her mistake. He hadn't  expected the old guy to send his daughter to do his bidding. Was he  hoping Zach would somehow be seduced into making a deal? If he was, he  was going to be disappointed because, despite his reaction to her voice,  Zach had never been attracted to Bakaani women. A shrink would no doubt  tell him that it was because of the amount of arranged marriages his  father had tried to foist on him. But Zach just preferred blondes. 'I  didn't think your father considered himself a part of Bakaan but it's  nice to know that he still does.'

'He...' She stopped and Zach could see she was trying to rein her  temper in. She took a deep breath and slammed her hands on her hips,  drawing his attention to their feminine curve. Not going to help,  sweetheart.

'If you agree to let our region formally separate from Bakaan,' she said, 'I'll let you go.'

'You'll let me go?'

He laughed and she paced away from him, her stride long, and he  realised she wasn't as small as he'd first assumed: maybe five-seven,  five-eight. She stopped abruptly, facing him. 'Your family has  suppressed our people for long enough.'

Now that was something he couldn't argue with. He didn't condone how  his father had ruled Bakaan, and he'd even considered launching a coup  against him himself, but his mother would have been devastated. 'I  haven't done anything to the people of Bakaan.' But he couldn't allow  her tribe to secede from the kingdom because others might follow and the  country would get picked over by their neighbours, seeking to secure  Bakaan's oil reserves for themselves.

'You haven't done anything for them either,' she countered, 'even  though you've been back and have controlled the army for the last five  years.'

'And when was the last time that army attacked any of your people, or  any other country, for that matter?' Zach bit out, surprised that her  attitude had got to him.

'You're saying you're responsible for peace?' She scoffed.

'I'm saying that, for all your big talk, your father has potentially  instigated a war by his current actions. Not me.' Her face paled at that  and his eyes narrowed. 'Something to think about, sweetheart, before  you run off at the mouth with your uneducated accusations!'

'You only think they're uneducated because I'm a woman. I know more than you think, Your Highness.'

She loaded his title with as much derision as she could muster, which  was a pretty impressive amount. But her spunk only irritated him more.  'A woman?' he taunted. 'I've known skunks that smell better than you. I  would advise against marketing the scent. It's not all that appealing.'

Her eyes flashed darkly in the dying light. 'As if I would want to appeal to you,' she returned scathingly.                       
       
           



       

Zach nearly laughed at her haughty tone. He'd yet to come across a  woman who didn't want to appeal to him. Good genes, a good bank account  and what sounded like a good title went a long way to impressing the  female population. He raised his hands in the air and cocked an eyebrow.  'Untie my hands, little heathen, and I'll soon change your mind.'

He almost heard her teeth grind together from across the room at his  suggestive tone and, just as she was about to launch into what he could  only imagine was another cutting admonition of his character, the tent  flap was once again pushed aside and Hajjar's second-in-command  sauntered in, bearing a dish of food. The smell hit Zach instantly and  made his stomach curl in on itself.

Obviously surprised to see Mohamed's daughter, he pulled up short. 'What are you doing here?' he bit out.

Zach saw her chin snap up and her eyes shoot daggers. 'I can handle this, Amir,' she murmured icily.

'No, you can't.'

She responded in hushed tones and Zach avidly followed their furiously  whispered interaction. She clearly had a personal relationship with the  soldier and for some inexplicable reason he was disappointed.

Not wanting to dwell on why that was, he focused on the soldier's face.  He wasn't at all happy with whatever it was she was saying but he  clearly lacked the baydot to do anything about it. Idiot. All she needed  was a sound kissing and she'd see reason.

A sound kissing?

He nearly chocked at the absurdity of the thought. His ancestors might  have behaved that way, but since when did he think kissing a woman into  submission was an acceptable mode of conduct for a man? And who would  want to kiss this smelly little spitfire anyway?

Disgusted with his interest in their argument, he drew up his knees and used their distraction to work at his bindings.

Too soon the woman won and took the bowl of food from the soldier's  hands. Needing more time alone, Zach goaded him by asking where he'd  misplaced his baydot. The soldier stiffened. So did the spitfire.

She whirled on him, all fire and ice. Maybe 'spitfire' was too tame a  word to describe her. She was more like a wild little cat with her dark,  almond-shaped eyes and pursed lips.

'Come, Farah.'

The girl rounded on the other man and, for all that Zach didn't like  him, he felt himself wince for the guy. 'He's just trying to rile you,'  she bit out.

Not stupid, then, Zach mused with reluctant admiration.

'He is dangerous,' the soldier returned. And he should know, since it had taken six of them to subdue him.

'And tied up,' she pointed out impatiently. 'Which I have no plans to  change.' But Zach did and he felt another coil of rope give as he put  more pressure on it.

'What are your plans?'

Fascinated by the changed tension in the air, Zach stilled his  movements. He sensed there was more behind that question than met the  eye. The girl obviously did, too, but her scrunched brow indicated that  she didn't understand the meaning behind his question.

He wants in your pants, sweetheart, if he hasn't been there already.