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 here 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 just wasn’t meant to be … me and Zahir. Anyway, how are you doing? Do you mind if I’m away for 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 you 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
