by Maggie Cox
CHAPTER SIX
THE spell he cast was so profound, so intense, it was as if the rest of the world suddenly ceased to exist. There were no boundaries or walls any more—just Zahir and her, suspended in a weightless loving universe where who you were and the roles you assumed in life—whether antiquities expert or sheikh—ceased to matter. All there was were two souls recognising each other and silently rejoicing.
Her eyelids drifted closed as every cell vibrated with anticipation, waiting for his kiss that was bound to come.
It felt as though everything in his life had been teetering on the brink of disaster for a long time. Now, studying the entrancing beautiful features before him, Zahir thought that here was one thing that was right…that made him feel good…after talking to his sistereven hopeful.
From his head to his feet his body yearned for this woman. He could scarcely think of anything else but losing himself inside her. His longing overrode even the unholy biting sting of his gunshot wounds. And then he saw it… A slightly raised scarlet abrasion on the plump pink flesh of her lower lip. Her mouth was naked this morning—free from make-up—so it was plain to see. Instantly he recoiled—the memory of the savage kiss that had been his parting shot last night dousing the heat that enveloped him like ice-water.
'I did this?' He winced as he stroked the pad of his thumb over the lightly swollen wound.
The incandescent long-lashed eyes appeared startled. Realising what he meant, she coiled her slender fingers gently round his wrist. 'You didn't mean to.' Her tone was warm and whisper-soft. 'It's nothing to be concerned about.'
'I meant to make you pay for my frustration, and that is not the action of a man who is honourable. A thousand apologies, Dr Collins it will not happen again.'
He made himself withdraw in every way—physically, psychologically, mentally. It was agony, but Zahir had to do it.
Her face was a picture of confusion. 'It's nothing to feel guilty about. It happened in the heat of the moment.'
'Even so…' Inside, he was thinking, I do not deserve her forgiveness. I acted like an arrogant fool. 'The reason I came to find you,' he continued, 'is to ask something of you that will mean a lot to me.'
'Tell me.'
'My sister Farida informs me that you have already bumped into each other. It appears she has taken a great liking to you. It's the first time she has shown an interest in anyone or anything outside of the palace since she lost Azhar, so naturally I want to encourage it. She wants me to ask if she can help you with your inventory of some of the more important palace artefacts. I know. I have not officially asked you to undertake such a project, but I am asking you now. Will you do it? Both conduct an inventory and allow Farida to assist you?'
She stroked her palm down over her hip in the pearl-coloured silk harem pants she'd matched with a tunic in the same delicate hue. Her troubled glance told him she was mentally regrouping—trying to make sense of his request.
'There must be countless important artefacts in a palace this size. Such a project could take months and months. What about my job at the auction house back home?'
'I have no doubt your employers would see it as an honour for one of their staff to undertake this task. There is no doubt in my mind that they will jump at my offer. If you are in agreement with the plan, I will make sure the remuneration you receive is generous.'
'It's not a question of money. What about Jake—I mean Mr Rivers? Do you want to employ him, too?'
A flash of annoyance assailed Zahir that she should mention her colleague. Mockingly he raised his eyebrow. 'No. It is you who is the antiquities expert, is it not?'
'I also told you that my father isn't well. I can't just disappear for months on end with no contact.'
Biting back a jealous retort at yet another show of consideration for her father rather than him, Zahir breathed in deeply. Such a response was beneath him.
'You can telephone him and talk to him all you want. I perfectly understand that you need to do that. If he needs a nurse, go ahead and hire one. The palace will foot the bill. As far as Farida is concerned, would you be willing to utilise her help?'
Looking torn, Gina lightly shrugged her shoulders. 'If I undertake to do the inventory, I'm sure her help would be invaluable. Her knowledge of your family treasures must be considerable, having live with them all her life.'
'Good. Then you agree to do this?'
Zahir could hardly contain his impatience as he waited for her answer. His sister's enthusiasm for Gina's presence had unwittingly given him a legitimate reason to keep her there longer. Now that reason had entered his head he refused to entertain the possibility that his request might be denied.
The big blue eyes still mirrored doubt, but at last she nodded slowly. 'For someone in my profession it's obviously a great opportunity to deepen my knowledge, as well as a privilege—so, yes …I will do it.'
'Inshallah… I will make the necessary phone call to the auction house, letting them know what we have agreed.'
'What about the Heart of Courage?'
'Be assured, everything will take its course as it should in that regard. When I have had some time to recuperate we will discuss the rest of your findings concerning the jewel. Now I will send my sister to you here in the library. After that I must go and rest. My doctor will not be happy when he discovers I am not in my bed, where he left me!'
He spun on his heel, grimacing as the sudden movement made him feel as though a sharp-bladed knife had sliced through his ribcage…
It gave Gina a real lift to see less hopelessness and grief in Farida Khan's engaging brown eyes. To be Gina's assistant would give her a purpose, she'd confessed, and knowing that she was helping her beloved brother Zahir, too, would be doubly satisfying.
After the two women had met again in the library, and discussed a plan on how to proceed, Farida had disappeared for a while to locate the necessary keys—keys that would open some of the cabinets that were kept locked. They moved from room to room and floor to floor. She was showing Gina some of the palace's most prized treasures—possessions that were usually only seen by family and close friends. This was to be only a preliminary tour—the work of cataloguing everything would come later—but as she accompanied Farida on her mission to reveal the palace's most revered objects Gina was all but stunned into silence by what she saw.
She knew already how opulently decorated and sumptuous the interior of the palace was—nevertheless room after room seemed to outdo the one before with the riches it revealed, and everywhere she gazed the architecture was a dream. And that was without the abundance of extraordinary artefacts hidden away that she was privileged to be shown. Aladdin's Cave had nothing on the palace of the Sheikh of Kabuyadir.
Zahir was never far from Gina's mind as she trailed after Farida. Whenever she thought about his gunshot wounds, she winced and bit her lip. It was torture to imagine him in pain. Earlier, she had wanted to weep when he didn't kiss her as she'd believed he would. But she'd also been moved that the vivid evidence of his passion the night before had caused him to believe he'd both hurt and offended her. That he cared about that gave her hope. She didn't want him to forget that they'd shared the most extraordinary connection three years ago that went far beyond mere desire…
After learning that Jake had gone on a tour of the old part of the town for the evening, Gina ate dinner with Farida. Both women confessed to feeling tired afterwards, so retired to their quarters early.
After reading over her notes, then taking her evening bath, Gina tucked her legs beneath her on the opulent bed and let down her hair. Then she rang her father in the UK. They were three hours ahead there time-wise, so he would still be up and about—in his study working, most likely.
'Professor Collins.'
'Dad, it's me—Gina.'
'What a lovely surprise! How are you getting along in Kabuyadir? Does it still have the same magic for you that it held last time?'
A little taken aback, she smiled. 'I'm afraid
it does—so much so that I've agreed to stay on quite a bit longer than I'd planned. The Sheikh has offered me a job cataloguing some of the more important palace artefacts, as well as presenting my findings on the Heart of Courage.'
'You must have impressed him. That's quite a coup for the auction house as well as you personally.'
'He thinks so, too.' Her comment was wry.
'What's he like…His Highness?'
Gina struggled to find adequate words especially when all she could really think of was that Zahir was hurting. Was he resting as he should? Might his wounds get infected? Her insides clenched anxiously. But she also had a confession to make.
'I met him once before, Dad,' she admitted softly. 'When I was here the last time. He's the man I told you about—though I didn't know at the time that he was going to inherit his father's title of Sheikh. He's the man I wanted to come back to before Mum died.'
At the other end of the telephone, apart from a few long distance connection crackles, all was silent. 'Dad?'
'Well, well…' he said, and Gina could imagine him rubbing his hand round his jaw and shaking his head in bemusement. 'Do you still care about him, Gina?'
'Yes.' Staring down at the receiver in her hand, she sighed with relief that she'd been able to admit the truth. 'Yes…very much. But he's still angry with me for not coming back when I said I would, and now I don't think he'll ever trust me again.'
'But he's asked you to stay on to catalogue the artefacts? That doesn't sound like a man who has no trust in you, my dear.'
'I'll just have to wait and see how things pan out, won't I?'
She could almost hear her father thinking hard. 'It was selfish of me to stop you going back, Gina. I was distraught about your mother, and fearful of the future without her. Yes, I wanted you to pursue a rewarding career—but I took advantage of your innate kindness to get you to stay at home. I was afraid of losing you to a man thousands of miles away from me. I've since realised what a dreadful thing I did. Now I need to ask your forgiveness.'
Tracing one of the swirling patterns on the bed's silk counterpane, Gina swallowed hard. 'There's nothing to forgive, Dad. You needed me, and I chose to stay. Perhaps it wasn't meant to be…me and Zahir. Anyway, how are you doing? Do you mind if I'm away so long?'
'Mind!' Her father sounded surprised that she would even think it. 'Of course I don't mind! This is a great opportunity for you to make a bit of a name for yourself as well as to advance your career—if that's what you want. And if you decide it's Zahir that you want then that's fine, too, and you have my blessing.'
His words stunned her. He was definitely changing, she realised. 'Thank you. By the way, how's your new housekeeper working out?'
'To tell the truth, Lizzie has been an absolute godsend. Not only is she a marvellous cook, but history is one of her passions, too. She's a bright girl…extremely intelligent—and a very good mother to that son of hers. He, by the way, is very bright as well. He's already sorted out that hiccup I had with the computer. Yes, we all get along like a house on fire, so there's no need to worry, Gina. Just give me a ring from time to time and let me know how things are going with you, will you? And don't hesitate to call if you need anything…anything at all.'
Struggling to swallow across the lump in her throat, Gina nodded. After spending many years believing that he scarcely regarded her at all, it was almost overwhelming to hear such love, concern and acceptance in her father's voice. Especially when she considered that she was so far away, and it might be quite a while before they saw each other again.
'I will, Dad.'
'Well, goodbye for now, dear. We'll speak again soon.'
'Bye.'
Drawn to his balcony by the great glowing ball of orange fire that was the sun going down, Zahir experienced the familiar quickening in his blood that was always a given when he witnessed the phenomenon. It made him feel that he was part of much, much more than the mere sights and sounds that daily met his eyes. The realisation humbled him, and he silently gave thanks.
Then the incandescent moment passed and the ache in his side brought him back to more earthly matters—back to the frustration he felt at the thought of being confined by his discomfort for even the shortest time.
Right now he longed for the freedom and vast open spaces of the desert…longed to be pounding along the sand on his beautiful Arabian stallion with the warm wind in his hair and the sun on his back…to forget he was ruler of Kabuyadir for a while. Into his daydream came another tempting facet. On the stallion's back in front of him—his arms keeping her safe—was a woman: the woman who for the past three years had nightly haunted his dreams, the woman who by an incredible quirk of fate was now staying in his palace.
He hadn't written off the idea of making Gina his mistress, despite the fact that he'd said he wouldn't allow his desire to transgress her sense of safety or honour. Tomorrow he would continue his campaign to persuade her—to help her see that it was a natural solution to the inflammatory attraction that gathered force whenever they were together. If she were to become his mistress he wouldn't have to risk his heart as he had done before, he told himself. In a way he could hold her at arm's length except for when they were in bed together. Fear of her letting him down again would always ensure he would not wholly trust her.
Even so, his tension lessened a little at the idea she wasn't far away, and that soon— very soon—they would share a night together. Zahir released a long slow breath.
'Jamal!'
'Yes, Your Highness.' The loyal servant appeared almost instantly from one of the connecting rooms where he waited on Zahir's instructions even all through the night.
'I'm going downstairs to the hamam. After my bath I will have my usual massage, then I'll need the physician to attend me to rebandage my wounds. Arrange it for me, will you?'
'Straight away, Your Highness.'
Rising shortly after dawn broke, when a full sun had burned away the night and heralded a new day, Gina washed and dressed, then made her way straight to the library. She'd promised to meet Farida after breakfast to make a start on the inventory of palace artefacts, but for now her time was her own.
Browsing the stacked shelves with an intuitive as well as professional nose, she retrieved four heavy volumes of history of the area and carried them to the long varnished table beneath a row of narrow windows. The air echoed with the spine-tingling sound of the Muezzin, calling the faithful to prayer, and Gina shut her eyes for a moment to absorb the ancient chant more fully. Then she opened the first great book in the pile she'd laid on the table.
Moroccan-style brass lamps on the walls were still glowing softly from the night before, and even though the sun was already blazing, the extra light definitely helped illuminate the hushed cathedral dimness of the area. There were several interesting references to Zahir's dynastic family, and what she read kept Gina enthralled for at least a couple of hours. Finally realising the time, she quickly returned the books to the correct shelves and all but fled back down the maze of lofty gilded corridors to the terrace, where she'd breakfast with Jake.
'Morning, Gina…I heard you were hobnobbing with the Sheikh's widowed sister yesterday. What's she like? Is she as striking in appearance as her imposing brother, or did she get the short straw in the looks department?'
'For goodness' sake, Jake, where are your manners? What if Jamal heard you?' Gina looked daggers at her tactless colleague, then anxiously swept her gaze round the terrace to see if Zahir's faithful man was nearby. Thankfully, he wasn't. Only the two girls who served the food stood silently by the sandstone wall, waiting to be of assistance.
Already helping himself to the colourful generous repast that was arranged on the table, Jake returned an unrepentant glance. 'It's only natural that I should be curious. I gather the general consensus in these parts is that she'll never marry again. Something to do with that prophecy that so fascinates you—she was head over heels in love with her husband and won't give her heart to anyone e
lse. Not in this lifetime anyway.'
At this reminder of the prophecy, Gina's own heart seemed to turn over in her chest. It wasn't hard for her to understand Farida's vow, should it be true. If she couldn't be with Zahir then she, too, would probably live out the rest of her days alone.
'Seems a terrible waste, though, doesn't it?'
'What does?'
'I think this place is hypnotising you! You've increasingly got that faraway look in your eyes. It's going to be hard when you return to good old Blighty, isn't it? Back home to the real world.'
Falling silent, Gina helped herself to some bread and a few olives. Soon she would have to tell Jake about the extra job Zahir had asked her to do—but not yet. She wanted the chance to complete her presentation on the Heart of Courage first. When Jake's work was also completed, and he was thinking about travelling home, then she would tell him. The man was so ambitious that for all she know he might be funny with her because she'd been asked to undertake the inventory and he hadn't. It definitely wasn't above him to be jealous and petty about her perceived good fortune.
'It is another world here, isn't it?' She forced herself to be sociable and friendly.
'By the way, there's the most bizarre rumour going round that the Sheikh was shot by some rebels the other day when he went to try and make peace with them. He wasn't killed, obviously, just wounded. This place is like some kind of paradise lost, but I still get the feeling that anything could go off at any time, don't you? I didn't see him at all yesterday. Do you think the rumours are true?'
Schooling her expression to stay calm, Gina swallowed some food, then delicately touched her napkin to her lips. 'I don't think we should speculate about it. If it is true then I only hope the poor man is resting and recuperating is he needs to, so that he can heal.'
'I don't like to think we won't be able to finish our presentations if he really is laid up with a gunshot wound. We've both worked hard these past two months. I don't want it all to be for nothing.'
