Hidden in the Sheikh's Harem: Christmas at the Castello(9)

Carefully he scanned it for anything moving. 'There is nothing.'

'There is. I can feel...' She shivered and turned towards him. Her eyes  were huge in her face and moist from where she held tears at bay. She  was afraid he realised; truly petrified. Something inside his chest  pulled tight and before he could question the move he dug his fingers  into her hair. She stood stock-still but he caught the small tremors of  fear racing through her and the need to comfort her overwhelmed  everything else.

Smoothing her hair back from her face, he moved behind her to unwind  her plait. The dark waves parted beneath his fingers and he found  himself studying the lightly tanned skin of her neck. It looked smooth  and supple, not unlike the body he had curved around the night before.

Reminding himself that she was as bloodthirsty as her father, he  ignored the underlying silky texture of her hair as he combed his  fingers through it. Again his body responded to the fact that he was  touching her, which only elevated his already soaring stress levels. He  should be focused on getting home, not on saving a woman he couldn't  care less about from desert insects.

Roughly he turned her back to face him. 'You're clear.'

She stared up at him with those guileless chocolate-brown eyes and he  felt a jolt go right through him. Bedroom eyes, he decided, his gaze  automatically dropping to her slightly parted lips. Bedroom eyes and  soft, kissable lips...

Time seemed to stop as he imagined doing all sorts of unholy things to  those lips, starting with his mouth and ending with... The hair on his  forearms stood on end and it wasn't the only thing that did.

Hell.

He stepped back and took himself in hand-metaphorically speaking.

* * *

Farah stiffened as the prince moved away and grabbed hold of Moonbeam's halter.

She shook off the lethargy that had invaded her limbs as soon as he had  touched her, as soon as he had looked at her mouth-as if it were the  ripest peach and he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into it. For a tense  moment she had thought he might kiss her, and she was ashamed to admit  that she had wanted him to. But how could she when he was the kind of  man she had vowed to avoid? A man who walked all over others in order to  further his own interests. Not to mention the reason behind the  situation they were in. 'He needs water,' she muttered, knowing it must  be true because her lips were as dry as the desert itself.

'Water and food,' he agreed shortly. 'But unless you can divine it from  these rocks he isn't going to get any here. Nor are we.' He patted the  stallion. 'He's an impressive animal. What's his name?'

'Moonbeam.'

The laughter that followed her announcement was both warm and strong.  'You should have just gelded him when you named him. It would have been  easier on him.'

'Oh, you're hateful.'

'When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it.' He sobered and threaded  his fingers together to form a platform. 'Give me your foot.'

'I'm not coming with you!' He had to be mad to suggest it, the hateful, arrogant-

'Fine.' He straightened and vaulted onto Moonbeam as if the stallion was no bigger than a Shetland.

Hold on. 'What are you doing?'

'Leaving.'

'Not on my horse.' She grabbed onto the halter. He couldn't just leave  her here without any way of getting home. 'Damn it, why did you have to  come into my life?'

He stared down at her. 'I've been asking myself the same question. Now, get on or I'll leave you to become buzzard food.'

Farah thought about telling him to go to hell but knew that she  couldn't. Yet. 'This time I'm riding on the back.' No way was she going  to be made to feel small and helpless by having his arms wrapped around  her again.

'I don't care if you ride on your head. Just move it.'                       
       
           



       

Knowing this was probably a mistake, but aware that she really had  little option, Farah stomped to his side. He'd wrapped part of her dark  tunic around his head again and, even though he was as dusty and as  unkempt as she was, he managed to look regal and magnificent atop her  snorting stallion. When their eyes connected she refused to let herself  be swayed by his looks and injected as much venom into her gaze as she  could.

Stony-eyed, he reached out his much larger hand for her to take. As  soon as she placed hers in it he yanked her up behind him as if she  weighed little more than a pillow.

Unfortunately, riding behind him didn't make her feel any better than  riding in front, because she was forced to hold tightly to his lean hips  as he urged Moonbeam to get them to safety.

Which came in the form of a nearby tribal village some hours later,  just when she thought she might expire. The tribe was a fair distance  from her own so she knew they had covered a lot of ground the night  before, desperation and adrenaline pushing them on. She didn't know  anyone in the village, not having much cause to leave her own, and was  surprised when their leader bought the prince's charming 'lost in the  storm with one of his servants' scenario.

Servant!

Oh, how she wished she could contradict him but the consequences weren't worth it.

With a promise that Moonbeam would be housed until he could return, the  prince ate down a mountain of food before borrowing a battered jeep and  driving them through most of the afternoon and night, with only the  occasional rest for a power nap. Farah didn't know how he kept up the  pace and after a night of little rest, slept most of the way.

Awakening just before dawn her eyes were riveted to the changing  landscape and the size of the city of Bakaan as they approached the  following morning. She'd visited once or twice as a child but she'd  forgotten how large it was-and how busy. Even this early the streets  were filled with cars, bicycles, oxen and camels with a mass of people  dressed in all styles of clothing filling the pavements. Built into a  hillside, the Shomas Palace towered over the city in all its golden  glory and Farah secretly admired its opulent beauty as Zach identified  himself to the guards and drove through the iron gates.

'What do you intend to do with me?' she asked, proud of the way she managed to keep the tremor out of her voice.

Ignoring her question, he jerked the old car to a stop in front of a  set of massive stone steps; heat shimmered off the pale sandstone walls  of the palace, turning them white. The courtyard they were in was  already a hive of activity with a procession of servants rushing around.  Farah returned her gaze to the prince's as he rested his hands on the  steering wheel, his lion's eyes scanning her face to the point of  discomfort.

She raised her chin as if his perusal was nothing more than an  irritant. She was hoping he was going to tell her that, now that he was  back home, he was going to let her go. That he was going to let the  whole thing drop and forget it had even happened. She knew she'd like  to. 'Well?' She stared him down. 'Are you going to tell me or not?'

'Yes, I'm going to tell you.' He smiled but it was grim in his hard, beautiful face. 'I'm going to use you as bait.'

* * *

Farah fumed as the prince all but dragged her along opulent hallways  and past closed doors, servants and guards bowing one after the other as  they proceeded; none of them showing an ounce of shock at seeing their  prince pulling a woman along roughly by the arm. If possible the  interior of the palace was grander than the exterior and Farah's mind  buzzed at the wondrousness of the wide hallways and soaring ceilings  stencilled in blue, green and gold fretwork prevalent in the Moorish  period, the ancient artworks that were framed under bright lights, and  the solid marble floor that shone to a high gloss from the sunshine  streaming in through high arched windows.

Realising she was letting herself become awestruck, she dug her heels into the polished floor. 'You can't do this.'

Of course he didn't respond to her outraged cry but stopped before an  enormous carved door. Ignoring her, he turned towards two guards who had  rushed to follow them. 'No one comes in here, no one goes out-is that  clear?'

'Yes, Your Highness,' they said in unison.

'I won't let you use me this way,' Farah asserted as he shoved her into the room.

When he gave a short, sharp laugh she stared at him belligerently. 'You have no grounds to hold me.'

The prince turned cold, menacing eyes on her and for the first time she  noticed the deep brown ring that bordered all that gold. 'I don't need a  reason.'                       
       
           



       

'Right. Your word is law, is that it?' Farah tossed her filthy hair  which she'd replaited after the prince had sifted his fingers through it  back over her shoulder.

He stepped into her space and brought his face level with hers. 'That  is it, yes. An eye for an eye. Isn't that what your father believes in?'

Her father did unfortunately hold to that cynical view of the world but Farah didn't.