'My mind had drifted for a few seconds,' he answered tensely.
'And the expression?'
'Part of the drift,' he admitted heavily.
'You were supposed to be on the alert at all times for attacks of this kind.' Rafiq was not impressed. 'It was risk enough to bring onto this boat the man who wishes her ill, without you allowing your mind to drift.'
'Stop spitting words at my neck and go to your dancer,' Hassan snapped back impatiently. 'You know as well as I do that neither Abdul or Jibril would dare to try anything when they are here for the specific purpose of talking me round!'
It's okay, Leona was telling herself. I can deal with it. I've always known that deep inside he cared more than he ever let me see. So, he had been caught by surprise and showed the truth to everyone was caught by surprise and showed it myself.
'Samir,' she murmured gently. 'If you pour me any more wine I will be sozzled and fall over when I have to stand up.'
'Hassan wants your glass kept full.' He grimly kept on pouring.
'Hassan was attempting to fill an empty gap in the conversation, not put me under the table,' she dryly pointed out.
Samir sat back with a sigh, I want to die a thousands deaths,' he heavily confessed.
Hassan arrived back at the table. Leona felt his glance sear a pointed message at her down the table's length. She refused to catch his eye, and smiled and smiled until her jaw ached.
After that, the rest of the dinner passed off without further incident. But by the time the ladies left the men alone and removed to the adjoining salon Leona was in no mood for a knife-stabbing session. So she was actually relieved that Medina and Zafina chose to stab at her indirectly by discussing Zafina's daughter, Nadira, whose beauty, it seemed, had multiplied during the last year. And as for her grace and quiet gentle ways-she was going to make some lucky man the perfect wife one day.
At least they didn't prose on about how wonderful she was with children, Leona thought dryly, as the conversation was halted when Hassan brought the men through within minutes of the ladies leaving them.
The evening dragged on. She thought about the other days and nights still to come and wondered if she was going to get through them all in one piece. Eventually the other two women decided they were ready to retire. A maid was called and within minutes of them leaving Leona was happy to follow suit. As she stepped outside, Hassan joined her. It was the first time he had managed to get her alone since the incident at the dinner table.
'I am at your feet,' he murmured contritely. 'I was miles away and had no idea what had taken place until Rafiq explained it to me."
She didn't believe him, but it was nice of him to try the cover-up, she supposed. 'Samir wins hands down on apologies,' she came back. 'He wants to die a thousands deaths.'
With that she walked away, shaking inside and not really sure why she was. She got ready for bed and crawled between the cool cotton sheets, sighed, punched the pillow, then attempted to fall asleep. She must have managed it, because the next thing she knew a warm body was curling itself in behind her.
'I don't recall our new deal involving having to share a bed," she said coldly.
'I don't recall offering to sleep elsewhere,' Hassan coolly returned. 'So go back to sleep.' The arm he folded around her aimed to trap. 'And, since I am as exhausted as you are, you did not need the silk pyjamas to keep my lecherous hands.
'I really hate you sometimes.' She wanted the last word.
'Whereas I will love you with my dying breath and when they lay us in our final resting place in our crypt of gold it will be like this, with the scent of your beautiful hair against my face and my hand covering your lying little heart. There,' he concluded, 'is that flowery enough to beat Samir's one thousand deaths?'
Despite not wanting to, she giggled. It was her biggest mistake. The exhausted man became an invigorated man. His lecherous desires took precedence.
Did she try to stop him? No, she did not. Did she even want to? No, again. Did he know all of that before he started removing the pyjamas? Of course he did. And there was something needle-piercingly poignant in this man losing touch with everything but this kind of loving as he came inside her, cupped her face with his hands and held her gaze with his own, as he drove them towards that other resting place.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Morning came too soon, to Leona's regret. Although here, shut inside this room and wrapped in the relative sanctuary of Hassan's arms, she could let herself pretend for a little while longer that everything was perfect.
He was perfect, she observed tenderly as she studied the lean smooth lines of his dark golden face. He slept quietly- he always had done-lips parted slightly, black lashes lying still against the silken line of his cheekbones. Her heart began to squeeze and her stomach muscles joined in. This deep-rooted attraction he had always inspired in her had never diminished no matter what else had come in between.
She released a sigh that feathered his face and made his nose twitch. And it was such a nose, she thought with a smile, irresistibly reaching up to run a fingertip down its long silken length.
'Life can have its perfect moments,' a sleepy voice drawled.
Since she had been thinking much the same herself, Leona moved that bit closer so she could brush a kiss on his mouth.
Eyelashes drifted upward, revealing ebony irises packed with love. 'Does the kiss mean you have forgiven me for dropping all of this on you?'
'Shh,' she whispered, 'or you will spoil it.'
'Kiss me again, then,' he insisted. So she did. Why not? she asked herself. This was her man. Rightly or wrongly he was most definitely hers here and now.
It was a shame the ring of the telephone beside the bed had to intrude, or one thing would have led to another before they should have needed to face reality again. As it was, Hassan released a sigh and reached out to hook up the receiver. A few seconds later he was replacing it again and reaching out to touch her kiss-warmed mouth with a look of regret.
'Duty calls,' he murmured.
Ah, duty, Leona thought, and flopped heavily onto her back. Perfect moment over, pretence all gone. Stripped clean to his smooth dark golden skin, it was the prince who rose up from the bed and without saying another word disappeared into the bathroom.
He came out again ten minutes later, wrapped in fluffy white cotton and looking as handsome as sin. Wishing his pull wasn't as strong on her senses, she got up with a definite reluctance to face the day mirrored on her face, puDed on her wrap and went to take her turn in the bathroom.
But Hassan stopped her as she walked past him, his hand gently cupping her chin. He smelt of soap and minted toothpaste as he bent to kiss her cheek. 'Fifteen minutes, on the sun deck,' he instructed as he straightened again. 'For breakfast with an added surprise.'
The 'added surprise' made Leona frown. 'You promised me you had no more surprises waiting to jump out at me,' she protested.
'But this one does not count,' he said with a distinctly worrying gleam in his eye. 'So hurry up, wear something deliciously stylish that will wow everyone, and prepare yourself to fall on my neck.'
'Fall on his neck,' Leona muttered to herself as she showered. She had developed a distinct aversion to surprises since arriving on this wretched boat so she was more likely to strangle him.
In a pale blue sundress made of a cool cotton, and with her red hair floating loose about her shoulders-because she felt like wearing it as a banner, which made a statement about...something, though she wasn't absolutely sure what-Leona walked out onto the sun deck to find Rafiq there but no Hassan.
He looked up, smiled, then stood to pull out a chair for her. He was back in what she called his off-duty clothes, loose-fitting black chinos and a white V-neck tee shirt that did things to his muscled shape no one saw when he was covered in Arab robes.
'Was your mother an Amazon, by any chance?' she enquired caustically, because his father was a fine boned little man and Rafiq had to have got his size from someone.
The waspishness in her tone earned her a sharp glance. 'Did you climb out of bed on the wrong side, by any chance?' he threw back.
'I hate surprises,' she announced as she sat down.
'Ah,' Rafiq murmured. 'So you have decided to take it out on me because I am unlikely to retaliate."
He was right, and she knew it, which didn't help this terrible, restless tension she was suffering from. 'Where is Hassan?' She strove for a nicer tone and managed to half succeed. 'He said he would be here.'
'The pilot who will guide us through the Suez Canal has arrived,' Rafiq explained. 'It is an expected courtesy for Hassan to greet him personally.'