Hidden in the Sheikh's Harem: Christmas at the Castello(8)

He ignored the jab and once again she heard the rustle of fabric.

'What are you doing?' she demanded as he pulled Moonbeam's blanket off.

'We need this more than he does.'

'You can't just take it off. He'll freeze.'

'He will not freeze. He has a thick coat of hair and he's mostly dry. We are not.'

As if on cue, another huge shiver wracked her body and she rubbed her  arms. The wind howled outside their rocky respite but at least it didn't  cut right through her any more. Too tired to argue, she dropped to her  knees on the hard ground.

'You're too close to the opening there. Come here.'

How he knew her location was beyond her. 'I'm fine.'

'That wasn't a request,' he growled so close to her she jumped again.

'I'm too tired to argue with you' she snapped. 'Just let me be.'

'The way your father let me be?'

Farah closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about why they were in  this predicament because she knew her father had been wrong to do what  he'd done, even if he did think his reasoning was solid. 'Did I not just  say I was too tired to-hey! Put me down!'

'I too am tired, I'm also hungry and angry, so I would advise you not  to test the limits of my patience because that ran out three days ago  when your father refused to release me. He hasn't had the courage to  face me since.'

'My father is not a coward!'

'No?' He placed her on the ground more gently than she expected, given  the roughness of his hold. 'So you condone his actions? Or perhaps you  assisted him.' When he sat beside her Farah automatically scooted  sideways to get away from him but he grabbed her arm and yanked her  back. Then he anchored her with his forearm and pulled her backwards  until she was lying on her side with him plastered along her back, his  knees pressing into the backs of hers.

'I'm not sleeping with you!'

He tugged the horse blanket over the top of them. 'No, you're not.  You're sleeping next to me. There's a big difference, habiba, and  believe me you would not be invited to do the former.'

Farah felt her blood boil at his arrogance.

'But there is only one blanket,' he continued, shifting her even  closer. 'And, given that you can't stop shaking, we need to share body  heat to warm up. Relax and this will go a lot easier.'

Relax? Farah couldn't have been more tense if he'd pointed a loaded gun  at her head. It had been a long time since she had been physically  close to anyone and all this bodily contact was messing with her head.  'This isn't right.'

'But kidnapping your prince is fine.'

'Must you always have the last word?' she grumbled.

'Must you?'

Not wanting to find anything remotely amusing about him, Farah curled  herself into a tight ball to try to put distance between them.  Self-sufficiency was a prized trait in the harsh desert climate and  Farah was proud that, although she was female, she could survive on her  own if she had to. She wanted to point this out to the prince but that  would involve speaking to him and she'd much rather pretend he wasn't  there. She'd much rather pretend she was in her own bed than on the  cold, hard ground wrapped in the strong arms of her father's number one  enemy.

* * *

Finally she fell asleep. Thank Allah. Once her trembling had subsided,  she'd squirmed around trying to get comfortable to the point that Zach  had needed to place a staying hand on her hip to stop her from rubbing  her bottom against his burning erection one more time. It was bad enough  he even had one let alone her knowing about it.                       
       
           



       

Realising that his hand was still gripping her hip, he eased it away.  He knew his reaction to her was based on his recent bout of celibacy and  little else. Maybe the way danger heightened the senses, as well.  Whatever it was, he had no intention of acting on it. He wasn't the type  to lose his head over anything and one slender spitfire wouldn't change  that.

Sighing, he shifted to get comfortable. The little spitfire whimpered  in her sleep like a small kitten having a bad dream. He didn't doubt she  was and he wondered if it featured a jail cell and the span of twenty  years. That brought a small smile to his lips, one that was quickly  supplanted by a scowl when she burrowed closer to his warmth. He briefly  thought about putting his arm beneath her head to offer his biceps as a  pillow but then dismissed the idea. What did he care about her comfort?  She might have offered him food earlier and... Damn. Just the thought  of her crouching over him and bringing the food to his lips was enough  to have his mind spiralling back to what she would look like naked. He'd  noticed the telltale flush of arousal on her face when he'd drawn her  fingers into his mouth and laved them with his tongue, the way her eyes  had glazed with desire. She'd been turned on and, damn it, so was he.  Again.

Absently he wondered if she was intimate with the arrogant soldier who  had argued with her. He clearly wanted her. Not that Zach cared, but  there was definite tension between the two of them. The man was clearly a  moron, though, to have left her alone with him. If she had been his  woman there was no way he'd have let her have her own way in a dangerous  situation. She would be his to take care of. His to protect. And thank  Allah she wasn't.

He felt her shiver and curl into a tighter ball. She must still be  cold; he damned well was. Cold, hungry, angry and his arms and torso  felt like they were covered in a thousand tiny pinpricks from where the  sand and rain had pelted him in the storm.

He let out an aggrieved sigh. Farah Hajjar better not give him any  trouble in the morning because he was very far from his cool, controlled  self.





      CHAPTER FIVE

'WAKE UP, ZENOBIA. Time to hustle.'

Hustle?

Groggily Farah came awake and realised the prod in her bottom had been  the Prince of Bakaan's foot. Her teeth ground together at the way he  mockingly referred to her as a warrior queen from the Roman era. Some  warrior she was, allowing him to get the better of her. 'Only if you'll  give me back my dagger so I can do to you what she did to Probus.'

She sat up and rubbed the grit from her eyes but still caught the look  of surprise on his face. 'Oh, sorry,' she simpered. 'Am I supposed to  play the part of the village idiot who isn't anywhere near as learned as  the high and mighty prince with his first-class degree?'

He didn't move but she felt his eyes on her like a hot brand. 'Two degrees, actually.'

'Oh, well, excuse me.' She glanced at Moonbeam so she wouldn't have to look at him.

'So you're educated?'

'Self-educated, no thanks to your family's reign.' She flicked him a  scathing look. 'But, as much as your father tried to keep us all in the  dark, we're a little more resourceful than you might think. Especially  when-'

She stopped, suddenly realising she was about to tell him that there  was someone on his staff who was supplying the outer tribes with  contraband medical and educational goods.

Great going, Farah, she admonished herself. What a way to get a man fired-or, worse, killed.

His eyes narrowed. 'When what?'

She brushed sand off her legs. 'Never mind. Why did you kick me?'

'I didn't kick you. I nudged you.' His deep voice made her insides feel  unsteady. 'And I wouldn't be Probus in your little fantasy. I'd be  Aurelian.'

Aurelian, who had captured Zenobia and ended her reign as queen. She  made a rude noise at his arrogance. 'You wish,' she muttered, half under  her breath.

He stopped in front of her and she stared at his dusty boots and the  way his jeans-so foreign in her part of the world and yet so sexy in the  way they moulded to his legs-hung over the top. 'I captured you, didn't  I?'

Instant annoyance hit her at his words and she threw her head back to  glare at him-only something black and alive dropped to the ground beside  her and she let out a blood-curdling scream. The scorpion took off into  a nearby crevice and Farah went from paralysed inertia to violently  brushing at her clothing in seconds.

Suddenly large hands grasped her upper arms and lifted her to her feet.  'Keep still.' The prince scoured the ground for the offending visitor  and released her. 'It's gone.'                       
       
           



       

Something crawled across her shoulder and she nearly hit the cave roof. 'More! There's more.'

'No, there's not.' The prince's voice seemed to come from far off  before he gripped her arms again and shook her gently. 'It's your  imagination.'

'My hair,' she gasped. 'They're in my hair.' It was one of those  irrational fears she'd struggled to master since her mother's death all  those years ago.

With an exaggerated sigh, the prince gently knocked her hands away from her head and turned her around.

* * *

Zach's eyes swept over dark chestnut tresses that a bird would think  twice about before nesting in. It was long, thick and matted with sand,  half of it still in the braid that hung down her back.