Master of the Desert(5)

'I don't have all day,' he warned. 'The least you can do is tell me why you're here.'

Even if she had been prepared to tell him the truth it was hard to think  straight with his sexuality overwhelming her. Command was instinctive  for him, while she was a girl used to getting her own way; theirs could  be an explosive partnership.

In the realms of fantasy only, Antonia cautioned herself firmly. She had  been so absorbed in sleuthing it took her a moment to realise that he  was holding out the most deliciouslooking baguette. Slathered in butter,  it had a wedge of cheese inside it so thick it would normally have fed  her for a week. And she hadn't eaten for … She couldn't remember.

'Is that for me?' She granted him the first smile of the day as she reached for it.

He held it out of reach. 'Talk first,' he said brusquely. 'You've had  enough time to collect your thoughts. And if you can't remember your own  name … ' A quirk of his eyebrow was all it took to call her a liar. 'Why  don't you start with your parents' names?'

'Both my parents are dead.'

'And they had no name either, I suppose?'

Had she expected sympathy? Antonia's skin prickled at this evidence of a  man who was cold and remote. It underscored what she had already sensed  about him, that you wouldn't want him as an enemy, and as she stared  into his eyes she wondered if she had never met anyone so removed from  human feeling. He unnerved her to the point that she felt like voicing  her mother's name, almost as if it were a talisman that could protect  her. But her mother's name was too precious for that, and so she  attempted a little sob instead. 'Please, let me eat first. I'm s-so  hungry … '

There was a moment of silence between them, and then, as if she had planned it, her stomach growled in anguish. 'Please … '

She must have paled or swayed, or gasped for breath; all three were  possible when the man was so close to her. 'Eat, then talk,' he conceded  brusquely, handing over the baguette.

She dropped her gaze to hide her relief as she crammed the delicious  roll into her mouth, going to heaven and back in the space of a couple  of gargantuan bites.

'Steady-drink something.'                       
       
           



       

He took the top off a bottle of water, which she grabbed from him gracelessly and gulped down.

'Take a few minutes to let the food settle.'

His words might have seemed considerate, but the look on his face was  not. He was telling her she had better not take longer than he expected  to pull herself round. Brusque or not, his manner thrilled her. Why did  it always have to be the pretty boys who wanted her, when what she  wanted was a real man who could stare her in the eyes-a man like this  man, who made her body tremble?

Clearly, his thoughts were not running in tandem with her. Far from  returning her interest, he simply dumped another blanket on top of her  in passing. He couldn't have been more unromantic if he'd tried, while  her head was full of him touching her in quite a different way.

'You need to sleep,' he said brusquely. 'You're still in shock. We'll talk later.'

Sleep? Was he serious? He obviously thought he only had to issue a  command and her eyes would close immediately. 'Sleep here?' She stared  dubiously at the narrow bunk.

'Yes, of course here,' he rapped with a frown that would have sent grown men scurrying for cover.

'I'm not sure I can sleep,' she said honestly.

'You can try,' he insisted.

She reluctantly dragged the blanket close. Like the man, it held the  fresh tang of the ocean, and like him it felt wonderful against her  skin. But as she curled up on the bunk all her bravado fell away,  leaving just longing and loneliness. However formidable he seemed, and  however much of a threat he posed, he had made her feel safe. And that  was such a good feeling, Antonia reflected, biting back tears.

She was physically and mentally exhausted, Antonia reasoned, impatient  with herself for the weakness. Her emotions were in tatters, and no  wonder, when in the short space of time she'd known him this brute of a  man had turned her life plan on its head. She'd carried a mental image  with her of returning to Rome in triumph after opening branches of  Rigo's charity across the Middle East. Eventually, she would return home  and settle down-probably with some nice, safe man her brother had  chosen for her. After which, life would go on pretty much as it always  had, with lots of pats on the head for Antonia and not too many problems  to worry her. And of course, her husband, like her brother, would adore  her.

But now …

How was she supposed to lose her innocence to some lesser man now? The  man had ruined her prospects of a nice, cosy future. And as for sex …

'Relax,' he insisted as she squirmed beneath the blanket. 'No one's going to touch you while I'm around.'

Especially not him, she gathered.

Throwing herself down on the bunk, she stretched out. Why had fate  chosen to bring her to the attention of a man who had turned her world  upside down with one contemptuous stare when he wasn't even interested  in her?

Tugging the blanket over her head, she determined that out of sight  would mean out of mind-but how was that supposed to happen when she  could hear him moving about, and when even the sound of his steady  pacing was starting to soothe her? Then incredibly, thanks to the man's  strangely reassuring presence and the gentle rocking of the boat, her  eyes drifted shut and she fell asleep.

His voice was muted, so he didn't wake her as he issued orders to his  Chief of Staff. The girl was sleeping soundly now, her blonde hair  drifting in a curtain of gold to the floor. He turned away from that  distraction to relay every detail his unexpected guest had been able to  recall. When he ended the call, he went up on deck where a technicolour  sky would soon darken to the impenetrable mantle of a desert night.

Time had passed rapidly since the girl's arrival, and as he paced the  deck he realised that just the thought of her was enough to unsettle  him. It was as if the two of them had created some unusual energy,  almost as if together they possessed the power to forge some new force.  Having been only too glad to turn his back on her, he now found he was  impatient for her to wake up. He wanted to test that energy to see if  she would be like all the rest-outwardly intriguing, but ultimately  shallow.

He remained alert while he paced, and realised now he was listening for  her soft footfall, but all he could hear was the sigh of a restless sea  and the rhythmical chirrup of the cicadas on shore. Leaning back against  the mast, he allowed his thoughts to drift. They returned at once to  the mystery girl-her clear, blue-green eyes hazed over with passion and  the sight of her begging him for more …                        
       
           



       

He pulled away from the mast, shaking his head like an angry wolf, as if  that could dislodge her from his thoughts. He had already decided she  was too young for him.

But she was intriguing.

The trill of the satellite phone provided a welcome distraction, until  he learned the purpose of the call. He had ordered that all his late  father's palaces be aired and cleaned before being redecorated and  opened to the public, and it appeared they had found a locked room  today. When his comptroller of palaces went on to advise him that they  hadn't been able to locate a key to the room, a thought occurred to him.  Was it possible the room had belonged to his father's mistress? There  were so many secrets where that woman was concerned.

He commanded that they remove the door from its hinges-or break it down  if they had to. Once they had gained access, if it proved to have been  her lair, everything she had owned must be taken out and destroyed.

She must have cat-napped; when she woke there was no sign of the man.  She guessed he was up on deck and, though sleeping under the stars  sounded idyllic to her, she was beginning to feel guilty at the thought  that she was taking up his one and only bunk. Sitting up and stretching,  she realised it was still relatively early, and that he was unlikely to  be asleep.

She wanted to see him again. She wanted to make a fresh start. She  wanted him to see her differently. She had been so shocked at their  first encounter she had acted foolishly, and hadn't seen anything from  his point of view, but now she had slept and felt refreshed she could  understand his brusque manner. She was the trespasser, and yet he'd fed  her and bathed her wounds. What had she done for him? She must earn her  passage back to the mainland as cook, crew, anything he wanted-within  reason, of course. The least she could do now was to take him a cooling  drink.

The very least, Antonia concluded, her heart hammering with anticipation  as she padded silently across the deck with a cooling lemonade she had  decorated with a slice of lemon, an ice cube and even a sprig of mint  she had found in the man's supplies.