Desert Jewels & Rising Stars

by Sharon Kendrick

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AMIR was reading a report on a new gas pipeline when he sensed her enter. Her bare feet made no sound on the carpet, and without the jingling coin belt there was no obvious sign of her presence.

  Yet he sensed her. Felt her here, in his domain.

  Deliberately Amir forced himself to read another long paragraph. The pipeline was far more important to him, to his plans for Tarakhar, than the woman who’d finally emerged from the bathroom.

  Yet the words ran together, jumbling into incoherence as he pretended not to notice her. Finally he thrust aside the papers and looked up. His breath seared his lungs.

  She stood defiantly, as if daring him to comment. Her chin was up, her eyes narrowed, and her feet planted a little apart.

  In other circumstances Amir would have warned her that the spark of challenge in her eyes, far from dousing male interest, only heightened the delicious temptation of the picture she made.

  Gone was the dancing girl outfit. Instead she wore a collarless white shirt of his.

  Whatever misguided sympathy had possessed him to offer his clothes for her to wear after her bath?

  But how could he have known that Cassie wearing his shirt would be one of the sexiest sights he’d ever encountered?

  Heat coiled low as his eyes flicked over her.

  The cotton covered her almost to the knees. She’d rolled the sleeves up and the material hung loose around her. Yet the slit neck dived to her cleavage. The hint of a shadow there intrigued him as she moved restlessly.

  Worse, the cotton clung to her breasts, firm and high even without the bustier. As he watched, her nipples peaked, thrusting against the fine material.

  Amir swallowed, his mouth drier than the great interior desert, as he dragged his gaze down to shapely legs and dainty feet.

  Less is more.

  It was true. The dancing costume had been blatantly sexy, designed to appeal to the basest of male hungers.

  Yet the simplicity of what she wore now was more erotic than anything he could recall. Or was that because he knew beneath his shirt she was naked?

  Quickly Amir looked away.

  ‘I have something for you.’ His voice was husky and he reached for water, telling himself he was dry after a day in the saddle.

  ‘A pair of shoes?’

  His lips curved at her undaunted humour. ‘I’m afraid even I can’t conjure a pair small enough to fit you.’

  He shoved aside the realisation that he liked her barefoot in his rooms. No doubt the sight appealed to some deeply buried primitive instinct for dominance.

  ‘Though I could arrange a smaller shirt if you like.’ Faruq was much smaller than he. Surely one of his shirts—?

  ‘No. Thank you. This is fine.’

  Amir nodded and put the goblet down. Even as he’d suggested it part of him had protested at the idea of her wearing another man’s clothes.

  What sort of crazy possessiveness was that?

  Cassie Denison evoked primal responses no civilised man should feel.

  Amir frowned. He’d had lovers since his teens. Beautiful, accommodating women who gave him everything he desired. He couldn’t recall feeling possessive about a woman before.

  ‘What is it? The thing you have for me?’ She sounded tentative and Amir smiled.

  ‘Liniment.’ He let himself turn back to her, careful to keep his gaze on her face. Bare of make-up, her cheeks pink from a steamy bath and her hair pulled back in a long, gleaming plait of gold, she looked impossibly alluring.

  His mouth tightened.

  ‘Liniment?’ Her head tilted to one side.

  He nodded. ‘You’re bruised. This will help. One of my aides provided it.’ Ever prepared, Faruq had brought it for his own use, knowing that this time diplomacy entailed days of hard riding to which he, unlike Amir, wasn’t accustomed.

  ‘I just rub it in?’

  Amir nodded slowly, the glitch in his plans only now dawning on him. ‘You may need help.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ll manage,’ she said hurriedly, reaching out a hand.

  His fingers closed around the small pot. ‘Where are you hurt?’ He watched her eyes dip. ‘Cassie?’

  She shrugged. ‘My hip. I told you, I can manage.’

  ‘And your back.’ He remembered the way pain had streaked across her features when she’d suddenly risen and how her hand had shot to her lower back.

  He dragged in a deep breath, reviewing the few staff members he’d brought with him and discounting each in turn. To confront her with a man she’d never met was asking too much. There must be women in the camp somewhere, but he didn’t trust any of Mustafa’s people to care for Cassie.

  Lead settled in his gut as he realised he had no choice. So much for his altruistic gesture!

  ‘Get into bed, on your stomach. I’ll see to it.’

  ‘I told you I’ll be fine. I—’

  ‘Don’t try my patience, Cassie.’ He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. He’d perfected the voice of authority long ago. ‘You’ll feel worse without treatment and this will allow you to sleep.’

  He met her wide eyes and a jolt of pure energy arced through him. ‘It’s just liniment, Cassie. Nothing else.’

  She drew a slow breath, then another, and Amir kept his eyes trained on her face. Finally her gaze slid away. As if she was the one whose thoughts betrayed a baser self!

  Without a word she slipped into the bed.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flurry of pale legs, and heat exploded through him, slicing through his good intentions.

  He waited a full minute before getting to his feet, gathering himself. His lips twisted in a travesty of a smile. When had touching a beautiful woman become an ordeal?

  Since he’d become responsible for her.

  He knew the old traditions. The belief that if you saved a life that person belonged to you. For a second he lingered over the notion of Cassie as his, available to gratify his every pleasure. Yet it wasn’t so simple. His responsibility for her weighed on his conscience.

  Slowly he paced to the bed. She lay with her head turned away, the covers just reaching the dip at the small of her back.

  ‘Lift the shirt higher.’ His voice was gravel, and swallowing was painful as he watched her wriggle under the covers and then tug the cotton high enough to reveal a narrow strip of pale skin.

  ‘Good.’ Amir kept his tone brisk as he sat on the edge of the bed and took the lid off the pot.

  He turned his mind to massages he’d received, the placement of hands, the pressure on tight muscles, hoping to dredge up enough knowledge to do this right.

  The only trouble was, in his experience, such hands-on treatment usually led to other, utterly sensual pleasures.

  Cassie caught her lip between her teeth as she waited, every sense achingly aware, for him to touch her.

  Was she a fool, trusting him like this?

  Yes, he’d been her protector, her saviour. Even now her heart tumbled over itself as she remembered the way he’d faced that mob, putting himself between them and her.

  But to place herself in a position of weakness before any man was anathema to her.

  She remembered Curtis Bevan’s hand thrusting into her school shirt, only minutes after he’d left her mother, and bile rose. She recalled the last slimy proposition she’d received from a director eager for her to have a ‘private audition’. The salacious expressions on Mustafa’s men just yesterday as she’d stood before them, more than half naked.

  No matter how much those new injuries ached, she was a fool! No way could she put her faith in any man to—

  Her instinctive movement stilled as something warm and wet was slapped onto her bare skin.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind. I don’t—’

  ‘Just relax.’ His voice was a low rumble from above, but it was his hand at her waist that stopped her moving. Large, gentle, almost tentative, it shaped the curve of her lower back, smoothing ointment from side to side.


  Each muscle tensed. She was too aware of his hip against her thigh, separated only by the bedcover, the fact that beneath the cotton of his shirt she was naked.

  ‘Stop tensing your muscles or this will hurt.’

  ‘I don’t know how.’

  Was that a sigh she heard? ‘Never mind. Just try to clear your head. Think of something pleasant.’

  Pleasant? Desperately she tried to relax and conjure the memory of her last encore at a live performance.

  Two hands caressed her back now, moving in tandem, thumbs pressing and palms pushing in a rhythmic movement that suddenly had her thinking instead of chocolate. Lush, soft truffles that melted on your tongue. Liquid dark chocolate that swished lusciously when stirred.

  His touch gentled at the place where the pain was worst, then smoothed in again where she’d felt the strain of muscle spasm on one side.

  Cassie’s eyes flickered shut as the steady swirl of his fingers deepened and a puff of breath escaped her.

  ‘Oh.’

  Instantly he stilled. ‘I hurt you?’

  ‘No.’ Cassie stretched, her body weighted yet limber from his ministrations. ‘It’s…good.’

  Liar. It was fantastic. So fantastic that when she felt his hands on her again Cassie was hard put to ignore the delicious swirling sensation in her belly, the trembling effervescence in her blood, the way she wanted to arch into his touch and purr her delight.

  ‘Which hip?’ He sounded different. Curiously strained.

  ‘Right.’

  A moment later he slid the sheet down a fraction on one side, but not enough to reveal her buttocks.

  A hiss of air made her stiffen.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You’ll be sore for a while. That’s a nasty bruise.’ This time there was no massage, just a whisper-soft caress as he stroked ointment over her injury.

  ‘Where else?’

  For a moment Cassie debated, then gave in. It was clear Amir had no ulterior motives. To him this was a chore. Not by a centimetre had his touch strayed.

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind…a little higher up my back?’

  Wordlessly he lifted the shirt over her shoulderblades. Instinctively Cassie pressed her breasts further down into the bed.

  Then his hands were on her, working magic into muscles tense with days of strain. There was a little pain as he worked the stiffness free, but above all there was lovely, drugging pleasure. She could lie here all night if only he’d keep doing this.

  ‘You’re very good with your hands.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He sounded terse. Obviously he’d had enough of playing the masseur.

  ‘You can stop now.’ Yet even as she said it Cassie found herself arching her spine and pressing her forehead into the pillow in response to the lush waves of pleasure radiating from his capable hands.

  ‘In a minute.’ Slowly he worked his way down, past the chain encircling her waist to her lower back.

  A strange hollow ache began deep in her abdomen, an edginess that made her shift her hips and legs restlessly. She sought for distraction.

  ‘Why did that man take the chain from the tent tonight?’

  ‘Faruq?’ Once more Amir’s hand barely skimmed her sore hip, gently smoothing in ointment before returning to massage her back. ‘He’s here with me. He came to fetch the chain for the guard who attacked you.’

  ‘Why? What’s happened to him?’

  ‘Nothing yet. Though it seems he’s still in a lot of pain.’

  No mistaking the satisfaction in Amir’s voice. She was human enough to feel it too, knowing the man who’d tormented and hurt her suffered for what he’d done.

  ‘And later?’

  ‘He’ll come with us. Mustafa has handed him to me for punishment.’

  ‘Mustafa wouldn’t have liked that.’ Cassie recalled the raw fury on his face as he’d seen his henchman writhing at her feet.

  ‘What Mustafa likes is of no consequence. The man attacked my woman. He must pay.’

  Strangely this time Cassie didn’t feel the same blistering anger at being labelled Amir’s woman. Probably because she was melting in a puddle of sheer pleasure.

  ‘What will happen to him?’ She shivered, thinking of the barbarous world she’d entered. ‘Will he be beaten?’

  ‘Nothing so simple or quick.’ Amir’s voice was like honed steel. ‘There’s a huge construction project on the outskirts of my capital. It’s all high-tech building processes, but there’s scope for old-fashioned hard labour under strict supervision. Your friend will be up before dawn every day, digging, carrying, cutting stone. He’ll stop only after the sun goes down. He will learn the hard way that violence against women is not to be tolerated.’

  Cassie swung her head round to look into the dark face above her.

  Amir’s eyes glowed with a heat she hadn’t seen before. Anger at the guard, she told herself.

  Yet something in his scrutiny made her gaze slide away, warmth rising in her cheeks. She stared at the throb of Amir’s pulse strong and fast at the base of his throat. She watched, fascinated, as the grimness left his mouth, his lips relaxing into sculpted sexiness.

  Her breath snagged as the idea hit that his focus wasn’t on the guard. It was on her.

  A trembling started deep inside.

  She licked dry lips. ‘You’re going to a lot of trouble with him.’

  Amir shrugged. ‘He harmed you. Deliberately. He did far more than just stop you escaping.’ Amir’s fingers splayed at her waist, insinuating themselves under the chain, a tangible reminder that as far as the rest of the camp was concerned she was here to please Amir.

  Startled, she looked up again.

  A flash of something lit his eyes. A flash that reverberated through her, drawing her nipples into tight buds and shooting a wire of tension through her abdomen, right down to the juncture of her thighs.

  ‘What will he be building?’ Her voice sounded thready, as if coming from a long distance away.

  ‘A hospital for women and children.’ Amir’s mouth tilted up into a smile that suddenly dispersed the tension clogging the air between them. ‘Fitting, don’t you think?’

  She shouldn’t feel so relaxed and content. Her overwrought brain tried to remind her danger was all around, not least in the man prowling across the room to the far side of the vast bed.

  But it was no good. Amir’s touch, his massage, his words of reassurance and above all his presence, made her feel…safe.

  Her gaze followed him. She assured herself it was natural to be curious. As for the way she followed each sleek line of that bare, powerful torso, the play of light over shifting muscles, the contrast between broad, straight shoulders and the bunch of tight buttocks beneath those loose trousers…Cassie swallowed. There was nothing wrong with acknowledging a rare example of prime masculinity, was there?

  Yet a niggle of disquiet stirred.

  She’d never been one to ogle a good-looking man. Not just because in her experience most of them were utterly selfabsorbed.

  What was it about Amir that awakened dormant feminine responses? That made her pulse quicken watching his looselimbed stride, seeing the smattering of black hair across his broad chest as he turned?

  Dark eyes snared hers across the width of the bed and her heart stuttered.

  ‘Do you want the lamp left on again tonight? Would you feel safer?’

  The jitter of response in her belly eased at his prosaic words.

  She’d been mistaken. There was nothing in his look but concern. Cassie strove to smother a twinge of illicit disappointment.

  She didn’t want his interest! She was grateful he saw her merely as a responsibility!

  ‘I’m OK. You can turn the light off.’ She hadn’t even realised he’d slept last night with the light burning. Again, his consideration for her struck home.

  ‘If you’re sure.’ He turned away and a moment later the room was plunged into blackness.

  Cassie blinked, as if that would le
t her see, but there was nothing—only the sound of Amir putting something on the small table beside the bed. She heard the whisper of the covers being drawn back, then the rustle of sheets as he slipped into bed.

  Her heart hammered as reality hit her anew. She was sharing a bed with a stranger. A virile, powerful man. Surreptitiously her fingers slid under the pillow till they touched hardness, the golden hilt of that magnificent dagger.

  Strangely that didn’t ease Cassie’s agitation. She couldn’t imagine needing a weapon to protect her from Amir. What concerned her was her unwanted awareness of him. The fact that she was torn between a desire to curl up on the far side of the tent, as far away as possible, and to snuggle into him, letting his strong arms encircle her and keep her safe.

  ‘Are you sure this is necessary?’ She kept her tone prosaic. ‘There were no servants here today. No one will know if we don’t spend the night together in the same bed.’ Cassie drew a shallow breath. ‘I could sleep over—’

  ‘No.’ The single word silenced her. ‘From now on you will be served as an honoured guest. I’ve made that clear to Mustafa. Besides…’ He paused. ‘You might as well be comfortable. After your ordeal you need rest.’

  Silence engulfed them. Cassie focused on slowing her breathing, trying to relax. But meditation was impossible when even in the darkness she could picture with perfect mouth-watering clarity the honed power of Amir’s form.

  ‘Cassandra?’ His voice came out of the darkness, low and soft, a burr that brought every sense alert.

  ‘Yes?’ She frowned, wondering at Amir’s use of her full name.

  ‘I will punish that man for beating you.’ Amir paused long enough for Cassie to wonder if he sought the right words. ‘If there is anything else he needs to be brought to account for you must tell me.’

  Cassie frowned. How was she to know what other crimes the guard had committed? She’d be surprised if he hadn’t assaulted others. The man was a bully.

  ‘Cassie?’

  ‘I don’t know…’

  ‘Or the others who brought you here. If they have harmed you in any other way they will be made to pay.’ The lethal softness of his tone finally penetrated. It was a voice that, for all its control, spoke of barely contained fury.