Innocent in the Desert: The Sheikh's Impatient Virgin / The Sheikh's Convenient Virgin / The Desert Lord's Bride

His sardonic sneer drew a mortified squeak from Eva. ‘You were groping me.’ She swallowed and lowered her eyes as the memory of his lips on her skin, his hand on … Do not go there, Eva! ‘I woke up and found you in my bed. I suppose you’d sleepwalked or something, and then you grabbed me.’

He heard her out with an infuriating air of polite scepticism and then suggested, ‘And you fought off my advances?’

Eva compressed her lips, looked at him with seething dislike, but did not make the mistake of tackling that issue. Instead she just repeated the bare facts.

‘We did not sleep together, end of story. You were …’ An image of his appearance the previous night flashed into her head and she admitted, ‘Well, actually, I don’t know what you were, you looked terrible, and before I could find out what was wrong you fell asleep in that chair.’

She walked to the armchair, where it seemed she could see the outline of his body in the cushions, and punched the armrest wishing it were him.

‘You tell a nice story and I would like to suspend disbelief—but …’ He gave a fluid shrug.

Eva rolled her eyes heavenward. ‘But you don’t believe a word I’m saying.’

He shrugged again and touched a booted foot to the shabby chair as, eyes sparkling with platinum scorn, he held her eyes. ‘That’s not where I woke up, ma belle.’

‘And I don’t sleep with men I’ve just met, especially when they are egotistical, arrogant—’

‘Liking is not necessary for good sex. I thought we were a good … fit.’

The husky interruption sent a surge of heat through Eva’s body. The effort of not looking at him brought a fine film of sweat to her brow, but she was only delaying the inevitable. The compulsion to look at him proved too strong to resist and their eyes clashed, emerald on metallic silver.

She felt as if a fist had reached into her chest and while she wondered if this was what dying felt like she watched his eyes darken, the pupils widening until only silver rims remained.

Eva didn’t know how long she stood paralysed by lust until the hand she gripped the chair with slipped and sent a cushion tumbling to the floor, where it knocked over a half burnt candle in the hearth occupied by an ugly old electric fire.

‘All right, I’ll come clean—I took advantage of you in your weakened condition,’ Eva drawled, taking refuge in sarcasm.

‘That’s a lot more likely than me sleepwalking my way into your bed.’

‘You can’t actually think I want to marry you?’ The man had to be deluded, incredibly sexy but deluded. ‘Look, as I’ve already said, I only agreed to meet you to be polite, because my grandfather …’ She broke off and gave a choked laugh. ‘God knows how he thought we’d suit … but I imagine he sees an entirely different side of you.’

His eyes narrowed to silver slits. ‘I imagine that he sees an entirely different side of you too. I have no idea why he tolerates your lifestyle. I certainly will not.’

This casually autocratic warning drew a squeak of outrage from an incredulous Eva.

‘Look, you saw an opportunity and you took it.’ Karim passed a hand across his face. Eva, who didn’t want to feel any empathy for this man, ignored the weariness of the gesture. ‘I cannot blame you for that.’

Eva blinked at the concession and opened her mouth to ask him what on earth he was talking about when he added, ‘But do not expect me to admire you, Princess. We had our fun and now we both have to pay the price—’

‘I had no fun!’

Her shrill interruption drew a look of irritation from him. ‘You know as well as I do that when your grandfather learns we spent the night together …’

Lifting her hands to her head in an attitude of utter frustration, Eva was driven to stamping her foot as she ground from between clenched teeth, ‘I keep telling you nothing happened. Absolutely nothing! Why doesn’t anyone believe me?’

‘What I believe is not relevant. King Hassan—’

‘King Hassan won’t know unless you tell him.’

Karim’s jaw clenched as her pointless display of fake naïveté pushed his patience to the limit and a little way beyond.

‘That really won’t be necessary. I imagine your bodyguards will already have made a full report.’

Eva’s chin went up and, though she continued to glare, there was a sparkle of triumph in her eyes as she replied evenly, ‘I don’t have bodyguards. I’m kind of new to the princess stuff but my grandfather knows I’m more than capable of looking after myself.’

‘So the men sitting in the car across the street are decorative?’

Eva looked at him blankly. ‘Car?’ She struggled not to laugh. ‘What car?’

He nodded towards the window. ‘That car.’

‘It’s a street. People park.’ Just to humour him she walked towards the window and glanced out; the nondescript black hatchback parked on the kerb opposite was the first thing she saw.

In the act of swinging back to him she paused, a frown of disquiet forming on her smooth brow as she searched her memory. Hadn’t the same car been there last night … or yesterday or both …?

‘Surely you have noticed that car or one similar before.’

Eva tilted her face to his, ignoring the twinge of uncertainty, and she gave a scornful laugh, which unfortunately emerged as a panicky squeak.

‘Why would I need a team of bodyguards?’ The idea that people had been watching her every move sent a shudder of distaste down her spine.

‘Because you are the granddaughter of a king, because there are security issues, because …’ He arched a brow. ‘Shall I go on?’

‘Nobody knows who I am …’ Eva struggled to hide the flutter of panic his suggestions had caused, then, regaining perspective, added, ‘I’m not really a princess. It was just an accident of birth.’

‘I can’t decide,’ he mused, studying her face, ‘if you’re in denial or just stupid.’

‘And I can’t decide if you work at being a total pain in the neck or it comes naturally.’

The seamless rebuttal stopped Karim in his tracks. So, apparently people didn’t tell him he was a pain on a regular basis. Pity—a bit of humility might make him almost human.

Struggling to slow her laboured breathing, she raised her hands and waved her slender bare fingers at him.

‘Look, no jewels, no crown,’ she added, and pressed her hands to her burnished gold head. ‘I’m not really royal.’ She shook her bright head from side to side, adding, ‘I never even knew my dad.’

‘He was by all accounts a good man.’

Momentarily distracted by the comment, Eva lifted her eyes eagerly to his face. ‘Really?’

The wistfulness in her voice—she clearly had no idea it was there—hit Karim in a vulnerable corner of his heart. Refusing to recognise the feeling that swept through him as empathy, he nodded abruptly.

‘But you never met him?’

‘When I was a child,’ he admitted.

Eva’s chest lifted in a soft sigh that was audible. Karim searched her face, a part of him perversely wanting to see some sign that she was dissembling, that the emotion and the vulnerability were false, but he found none.

Up until this point he had viewed her unconventional upbringing as a soft option. She had spent her life free of the restrictions and responsibilities that came with being born into a royal family, the restrictions he had lived with all his life. Now for the first time he recognised the possibility that she had missed out too.