Was that what this week of reflection and personal time was going to be about? His own weakness?
Was he about to discover that he was, after all, just like his father?
His initial suspicions that she was part of the conspiracy to steal his horse had been eliminated by her explanation. It was galling to acknowledge that he might actually have to be grateful to her because it seemed that she’d inadvertently foiled a serious crime. By ‘borrowing’ Amira she had clearly prevented the threatened kidnap by a matter of minutes. Contemplating the reaction of the criminals who had been planning to steal his horse, he gave a grim smile. They must have had a shock to discover that someone had already done the job for them.
He was determined to keep his precious mare safe in his care until he was due to return to the city.
Which meant keeping the girl too.
Zafiq watched as various emotions flickered across her beautiful face.
Even with sand in her golden hair she was gorgeous. She reminded him of a princess from one of the fairy stories he’d read to his younger sisters when they were small. Only less sweet natured. A sulky princess. Now that he’d thwarted her plans to escape from the desert, he could see her struggling to hold back her temper. She was fiery and full of fight and he wondered what she was hiding.
Her hands clenched and she glared at him. ‘Don’t put yourself out, will you?’
Accustomed to receiving the appropriate degree of respect at all times, Zafiq was taken aback by her lack of deference. ‘Generally people put themselves out for me,’ he drawled softly. ‘That’s the way it works.’
‘You say “jump” and they say “how high?'”
‘Something like that.’
She tilted her head and studied him with perfect blue eyes that had undoubtedly been designed by nature to bring a man to his knees. ‘If that’s how you expect people to behave around you, then you definitely don’t want to keep me here. I’m honestly not great at doing as I’m told. In fact, I’m rubbish. That’s why I’ve been banished to the middle of the desert. I’ll drive you mad if you make me stay.’
Zafiq almost laughed.
She was already driving him mad, but he had no intention of revealing that.
‘You seem anxious to become better acquainted with the inside of a prison cell.’ His remark appeared to register because her face coloured.
‘Look, I know it was wrong to take the horse, OK? But—’
‘Not for taking the horse.’ Reluctant to reveal that he was actually grateful to her for that part of her escapade, Zafiq trod with caution. ‘For speaking to me with such a lack of respect.’
‘At least prison has bars, which would be a step up from the Retreat,’ she quipped, quickly regaining her spirit. ‘Alcohol is banned. You have to get your highs from herbal tea.’ She studied his reaction and then rolled her eyes. ‘I liked you better when you laughed. You should do it more often.’ Tense and edgy, she paced to the other side of the tent. ‘What am I supposed to call you, then?’
‘Your Highness.’
‘Wow. No formality, then! And I’m supposed to do everything you tell me, Your Highness?’ Her mouth curved into a mocking smile that challenged his already straining self-control. ‘So I’m your slave, is that right? Sorry, I should have said, Is that right, Your Highness?’
Zafiq had a disturbing image of this blonde, defiant beauty dressed in thin veils and bound at the wrists and ankles, awaiting his pleasure. ‘I hadn’t considered that option, but I will bear it in mind.’
His reply seemed to unsettle her. The dangerous gleam in her sexy eyes was almost enough to make Zafiq rethink his ultimatum.
She was the most alluring, tempting woman he’d ever met.
‘We will get along very well together,’ he said in a cool tone. ‘As long as you obey certain basic rules.’
‘And what are those?’ She flicked her hair out of her eyes in an unconsciously graceful gesture. ‘I just have to do everything you say, Your Highness?’
‘Yes.’ He watched as she swayed slightly and suddenly he remembered how long she’d been exposed to the sun. She must be feeling awful and yet she was determined to hide it from him and it was impossible not to admire that. ‘You’re still suffering from dehydration. Drink something.’
‘You might be a sheikh, but could you stop ordering me around? It brings out the worst in me.’ But she sank back onto the mattress and reached for the glass, her hand shaking as she sipped the water. ‘I feel filthy. My hair is full of sand. Does this tent have an en-suite bathroom or anything?’
For some reason he found her sense of humour every bit as disturbing as her more obvious charms. People were usually stilted and formal around him. They didn’t crack jokes. ‘As it happens, there is an en-suite bathroom. Outside the tent. This is an oasis. There’s a pool.’
‘I hope it’s an infinity pool with a bar serving iced drinks in the corner and a changing room. Or am I supposed to strip off in public?’
‘It’s not public. I’m the only person here.’
‘Well …’ She took another sip of water and then put the glass down. ‘In that case, no peeping. And what about the creatures you mentioned before? Am I likely to be eaten while I’m bathing?’
He refrained from admitting that she was probably the most dangerous creature in the area. ‘I doubt you’ll be eaten.’
‘Good, because I don’t have a particular desire to be tonight’s takeaway for some hungry camel.’
‘Camels are herbivores.’
She shuddered and lifted her hands, palms towards him like a stop sign, but there was a twinkle of mischief in those eyes. ‘Don’t mention herbs to me again—after a week at the Retreat, I never want to hear about herbs again. I don’t want to eat them, and I don’t want to drink them.’ Her cheeks dimpled and a smile burst across her face like the sun emerging from behind a cloud. ‘And I don’t want to ride on one either. If there’s herb in the word, count me out. I suppose it’s useless to ask if you have a change of clothes? Mirror? Hairdryer?’
‘Wash your clothes in the oasis.’ He was irritated by how much that smile affected him. ‘They’ll dry quickly if you put them on a rock.’
‘And in the meantime I’m supposed to walk around naked?’
‘In the meantime you wear a robe.’ It might be a good for his sanity, Zafiq thought grimly, to cover her up from head to foot. The mere mention of the word naked was enough to make him consider jumping back in the pool himself simply for its cooling effects on his overtaxed libido. ‘And stay out of the sun.’
Bella sank under the still surface of the water. Her skin was burning from the sun exposure; she felt hot, grubby and unattractive but she did feel better now that she’d cooled off, and it was bliss to wash off the sand that appeared to have stuck to every part of her skin. There was no mirror in the tent but the Sheikh’s indifference to her as a woman told her everything she needed to know.
Clearly she looked a complete fright. Like some sort of alien sand monster. If she’d been thinking clearly she would have bathed in the pool before trying to talk him into taking her to the city.
Still unable to believe that he was going to make her stay here with him, she glared at the outside of the large white tent.
Where was he anyway? Meditating?
Bella frowned as she tried to see her reflection in the water.
No, a man with muscles like that had to do something more physical than meditate.
Was he watching her?
The thought made her shiver and she dipped under the water again and did her best to remove the sand from her hair, methodically working on it section by section.
‘Never again am I taking shampoo for granted.’ Despite her disappointment at not being back in the city, she had to admit that the pool was beautiful. Shaded by palm trees, the calm, glassy surface of the water reflected the perfectly blue sky, and beyond the palm trees the dunes rose steeply, turned to a shade of pinky orange by the late-afternoon sun.
It wasn’t the city, but it was better than being trapped in the Retreat. Better than having to meditate or contemplate or whatever, Bella mused as she cleansed the last section of her hair and then turned onto her back. Floating in the peaceful pool, staring up at the sky, she felt unusually tranquil.
In fact, the whole situation was surprisingly relaxing.
The Sheikh had no idea who she really was. He knew nothing of the latest Balfour scandal. They’d probably never even heard of the Balfours out here in the desert.