Woman in a Sheikh's World(12)

A muscle flickered in his bronzed cheek. 'I'm the first to admit that my  proposal to you went awry, but there were circumstances-'

'Awry? It didn't go "awry", Mal. It didn't happen. There was no  proposal. There was just assumption. Lots of arrogant assumption.' All  the anger and humiliation came piling back on top of her. And the  terror. She'd almost lost everything. All of it. Everything she'd worked  for. 'You assumed I was a sure thing. That of course I'd say yes to you  because who wouldn't? You were so sure of yourself you didn't even  pause to think about my needs, and you were so sure of me you didn't  even bother to ask my opinion on the topic. And there are no  circumstances that can explain or excuse your arrogance!'

'And if there were, you wouldn't listen to them.'                       
       
           



       

'The first I knew of your "proposal" was not when you and I had a  private moment during which you asked me if I'd consider marrying you,  but when one of my biggest clients rang to cancel his contract with me  because he'd heard that I was no longer going to be running my company.  When I asked him where that rumour had originated, he told me that he'd  heard it from you. That you'd told him that once you married me I would  no longer be taking on more business. Because of you, I lost clients. I  could have lost the whole business. My business. The business I built  from nothing.' The thought of how close she'd come to losing everything  that mattered to her sent her spiralling into panic. 'That is what our  "romance" did for me. And you wonder why I'm not romantic?'

There were lines of strain visible around his sensual mouth. 'That is not what I said to him.'

'Then what did you say to him because he was pretty sure of his facts  when he took his business elsewhere. Important business, I might add.  Business that would have led to more business. Instead I found myself  explaining to some very confused people why I wasn't getting married.'

His eyes were a dark, dangerous black. 'And in doing so you humiliated me.'

'No, you humiliated me, Mal! You made me look like some brainless,  witless woman who was just waiting for a rich, handsome Prince to come  along and rescue her from her sad life. All those times you said you  loved me for who I was. You said you loved my independence and my  strength. And then you cut me off at the knees. Did you really think I'd  just give up my business and marry you?'

'I thought you'd trust me. We'd been together for a year,' he said in a thickened tone. 'We were happy together.'

'We were happy until you tried to take over my life. "Once we're married  she won't have time to run your parties." Wasn't that what you said to  him?'

There was a tense silence. 'Yes. But there were reasons-'

'Yes, and we both know what those reasons were. You have to be in  control. You've been giving orders since you were old enough to put two  words together and you don't know any different. The problem is, I'm not  great at taking orders, Mal. I like to run my own life. In fact, I  insist on it. Damn it, why are we even having this conversation?'  Furious to feel her eyes stinging, she stomped back to the car but as  she touched the door handle his hand covered hers. 'Get away from me.  It's my turn to drive.'

'This conversation isn't finished.'

'It is as far as I'm concerned.'

'What happened with Richard Kingston was a mis-judgement on my part, I admit it. But there were circumstances-'

'There isn't a single circumstance that would successfully excuse a man  discussing his marital intentions with everyone before the woman he  intended to marry.' She felt the warmth of his hand, the strength of  those fingers as they stayed in contact with hers and forced herself to  pull away.

'Are you crying?'

'Don't be ridiculous. I've got sand in my eyes. This is a very sandy place.'

'You're wearing sunglasses.'

'Well, clearly they're not very efficient.' Furious and miserable, Avery  pulled open the door and slid inside. Her heart was pounding, her  control shredded and her emotions raw. Why on earth had she decided to  put herself through this? And in the desert. A place so closely entwined  with her relationship with Mal that she wasn't even able to look at a  picture of it without feeling sad.

On her first visit to Zubran she'd fallen in love. Twice. First with the  country; with the contrast between stunning beaches and the wild beauty  of the ever-changing dunes. Second, with the man. And somehow the two  had become inextricably linked so that she couldn't imagine one without  the other. He was part of this wild place and part of the place existed  within him, had bred the strength and resilience that formed that steel  core of his personality.

Her feelings for him had terrified her and they terrified her still. And  yes, that was why she'd done nothing but snap at him from the moment  she'd got into the vehicle. The alternative was allowing that dangerous  chemistry to take hold and she couldn't do that. She wouldn't do that.

Avery tightened her fingers on the wheel as she drove, every tiny part of her alive with awareness despite all her efforts.

Next to her in the passenger seat, Mal sat sprawled, beautiful eyes narrowed behind sunglasses as he stared ahead.

She was silent and so was he, but that silence did nothing to defuse the tension.                       
       
           



       

An hour passed.

And another hour.

Neither of them spoke a word. And she was relieved to be driving.  Relieved to have something to focus on other than him. Except that it  didn't work like that, of course, because no matter how much she focused  on the road, she was still aware of him, right there beside her. Within  touching distance, except that she wasn't allowed to touch. And  awareness grew and grew until the air was almost too thick to breathe.  Until the desire to touch him was almost overwhelming and she had to  grip the wheel until her knuckles were white with the pressure.

This was why she wanted his marriage to go ahead, she thought savagely.  Because only then would he be out of her head and out of her heart. She  wasn't the sort of woman who could hold onto feelings for a married man.  That would be it. She could get back to a normal life.

After what felt like hours of silence, he finally spoke. 'We'll camp by  those rocks up ahead.' His tone was neutral. Devoid of emotion. 'They  should offer some protection from the elements.'

She didn't need protecting from the elements. She needed protection from him. Or was it herself? She was no longer sure.

Confused and jittery, Avery parked and sprang from the vehicle. 'You can  camp by that rock and I'll camp by the other.' Distance, she thought.  She needed distance. They needn't even see each other until morning.  She'd zip her tent up and she'd keep it zipped.

'There is just one tent, Avery.'

'What?' His words blew out the foundations of her fledgling plan and  answered any remaining questions she had about her feelings for him.  'Just one? Why?'

'Why does that matter?' He seemed unusually interested in her reaction  and she pushed away disturbing images of his muscle-packed length  stretched next to hers.

'Well, for a start, it isn't exactly the done thing for a man to sleep  with one woman when he is engaged to marry another. And then there's  always the chance that I'll kill you in my sleep.' If she slept. Which  seemed unlikely.

'I don't intend to sleep with you.' He leaned in and pulled a bag from  the vehicle. 'Just share a tent with you. It isn't as if we haven't done  it before.'

But the last time they'd been lovers. Intimate in every way. They were  both hot-tempered and stubborn and those traits had simply intensified  the sexual connection between them.

Avery watched as he hauled the tent and the gear from the vehicle. 'Why didn't you bring two tents?'

'I wasn't expecting company. If you recall, you were the one who  insisted on coming. Having already spread the word that I wanted a  couple of nights in the desert alone, I could hardly articulate the need  for a second tent.' He focused his attention on creating their camp and  she forced herself to help, even though doing so brought her into close  proximity with him. She tried to subdue the choking, panicky feeling in  her chest at the thought of sharing that confined space with him.

He'd be sleeping with his head next to hers. His body within touching distance.

She looked at his shoulders and immediately looked away again.

What if she had one of her nightmares? What if she reached for him in her sleep?

Making a mental note to lie on her hands and stay awake until he was  asleep, she helped secure the tent, working without speaking. And it was  exasperating to discover that he was as competent at this as he was at  everything else.

Avery gritted her teeth. She wasn't looking for things to admire about  him. She didn't want to admire him. Not when they were about to spend a  night crammed into a relatively small space.