moistened her lower lip, slowly, as if speaking were the hardest thing she’d ever done. ‘Is the horse OK?’
She was lying half dead in his arms and yet she was asking about the horse?
Momentarily thrown by that surprising fact, it took Zafiq a moment to realise that she obviously had a vested interest in the animal’s welfare. ‘She is fine, although no thanks to you. You will not be profiting on this occasion.’
‘Profiting?’
‘There are many questions which you will answer in time, but first tell me about Atif. Who is he?’
Her eyes closed again but not before he’d seen tears glistening and the dull sheen of despair.
‘Please don’t make me go back.’
‘Go back where?’ Accustomed to receiving an immediate answer to any question he posed, Zafiq found this laborious process of dragging information from her unspeakably tedious.
What sort of man would leave it to a woman to steal a horse?
Or had she seduced someone to achieve her objective?
Irritated by his thoughts, he pressed the cup to her lips again. Her hand closed over his wrist as she drank and the burn of her fingers against his skin induced a reaction so shockingly powerful that Zafiq almost dropped the cup.
‘How could you have done this without help? There must have been someone with you?’
‘No.’ Her voice was faint. ‘On my own.’
As he laid her back against the pillows, Zafiq pondered why a horse thief should be working alone and unsupported. All the intelligence he’d received on the threat to his valuable mare had seemed to point to a group of people. ‘Sleep.’ He rose to his feet swiftly, needing to distance himself. Needing to regain control. ‘I must check on the animals.’
No one would be touching his horses again, he promised himself fiercely as he strode towards the entrance of the tent.
‘Wait—’ Her soft croak stopped him. ‘Who are you?’
Zafiq gave a cynical smile.
Never before had anyone asked him that question. He eyed her blonde hair and fair skin thoughtfully. It was entirely possible that this uninformed, naive woman, who thought she could kidnap a valuable animal without detection, genuinely had no idea who he was.
Which suited him.
His exact location was a secret. And he wanted it to remain a secret, particularly as he now had Amira’s safety to think about.
‘I’m your nemesis,’ he purred, his voice lethally soft as he lifted the flap of the tent. ‘And you are going to live to regret the day you stole my horse.’
Everything had shifted from gold to white.
Had she died and gone to heaven?
Bella blinked several times and realised that she was staring up at canvas. She was inside a tent. And it was hot. Stiflingly hot, like being trapped in an oven on full heat with the door closed. Her head throbbed, her mouth felt parched and she had no idea what she was doing here. Memories flickered through her head—a strong male voice ordering her to drink, firm, decisive hands stripping her of her clothing …
Stripping her of her clothing?
Realising that she was naked apart from her underwear, she was about to find something to cover herself with when the flap of the tent was pushed aside and a man strode inside. Stripped to the waist, his muscular bronzed shoulders glistened with water, as though wet from a dip in the pool. He was naked apart from a towel tied loosely around his lean hips.
For a moment she thought she must be hallucinating because he was indecently, impossibly, handsome.
‘OK, maybe I have died and gone to heaven,’ Bella croaked humorously but there was no answering smile from her rescuer. Eyes as dark as jet scanned her with arrogant appraisal and unconcealed disdain.
‘You have a strange concept of heaven. Or maybe you don’t realise how much trouble you’re in.’
‘You are my kind of trouble—’ Feeling weak and dizzy, Bella eyed his powerful physique and started to laugh. ‘You have to see the funny side—all those hours I’ve spent at parties hoping to meet a spectacular-looking man and he turns up here in the desert—’ The desert.
Oh, God, she was still in the desert.
Catching the flare of shock in his eyes, she sighed as everything rushed back to her. ‘Look, I’ve no idea where I am, but just tell me you’re not going to make me drink herbal tea and search for the meaning of life. Otherwise I’ll have a relapse.’ Conscious of the contrast between his striking good looks and her dishevelled appearance, Bella surreptitiously slid her fingers through her hair, wincing as she encountered a dry, matted mass. ‘Ugh. Sand. There’s sand everywhere.’
‘That’s why it’s called the desert.’
‘Yes, but it’s even in my hair—’ Her trademark silky mane had the texture of sandpaper and Bella shuddered.
No wonder he wasn’t looking at her the way men usually looked at her.
‘A few hours ago you were staring death in the face and now you are worrying about your hair?’ The contempt in his tone added insult to injury.
‘Look, do you have any idea what it’s like to be stranded in this red, gritty wilderness without so much as a bottle of decent conditioner?’ Bella pouted at him and then lifted her fingers to her mouth in horror. ‘My lips are cracked—’
‘That’s what happens when you trek across the desert without appropriate protection.’ He was as harsh and blistering as the desert sun and Bella’s spine stiffened defensively.
‘I hadn’t planned on getting lost!’
‘That tends to happen when you point your horse in the wrong direction.’ His sardonic tone was the final straw and Bella felt her cheeks redden.
‘Your bedside manner needs work.’
‘The quality of my bedside manner,’ he drawled, ‘depends on who is lying in my bed.’
A stranger to masculine indifference, Bella was appalled to feel a lump settle in her throat. She reminded herself frantically that red tear-stained eyes in a sandblasted face would make her look like a gargoyle and swallowed hard, refusing to give in to an emotion that would make her even less physically appealing.
Give me half an hour in that pool he’s just swum in, she thought to herself, and I’ll knock him dead. Even without the aid of a mirror.
‘Are you always this preoccupied with your appearance? One would have thought you had more important issues on your mind. Like humility. You should be dwelling on the lesson the desert has taught you.’ The slow-burning anger in his eyes made her wonder what she’d done to offend him so deeply.
‘The desert has taught me never to leave the city
