One Desert Night - By Maggie Cox Page 0,12

I present Dr Rivers, and his colleague Dr Collins?’

Already walking forward with his hand outstretched, Zahir felt his footsteps come to a frozen standstill. Beside a slim-built man with sandy-coloured hair who wore glasses stood a woman with elegantly upswept blonde hair, her svelte figure dressed in a long, flowing silk kaftan in stunning aquamarine. But it was her beautiful face and riveting long-lashed blue eyes that made his heart almost stop.

Gina…was he dreaming?

He could hardly believe it. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to speak, but just then to him that was akin to growing wings and flying. Clearing his throat, Zahir moved towards the man first. Even as he was shaking his hand his mouth dried and his chest tightened. He knew he would slip his hand into Gina’s next. She was clearly as shocked and startled as he was. Her cool, slim palm trembled slightly beneath his touch. Their gazes locked, and it was as though the room and everyone else in it apart from the two of them simply melted away.

‘Dr Collins,’ he heard himself intone gruffly, ‘I am honoured to meet you.’

Only too aware that they were being observed, Zahir withdrew his hand and gestured towards the rectangle of Arabian couches positioned around a carved dark wood Moroccan coffee table a few feet away.

‘We should sit and make ourselves comfortable. Jamal, you may serve coffee and refreshments now.’

‘Of course, Your Highness.’ The servant bowed and moved smoothly back towards the double doors, careful not to show his back to Zahir as he did so.

‘Your rooms are comfortable and to your liking?’ Moving his gaze from Jake Rivers to Gina, then back again to the man, Zahir settled himself in one of the longer couches and hoped the smile he’d arranged on his face was polite and relaxed—that it did not give rise to suspicion that he and Gina had met before and that the mere sight of her had all but undone him.

It was a most delicate predicament, and he would have to draw upon all his powers of diplomacy and tact to deal with it, he thought. But every time he found his glance returning to hers he wished they could be alone together, so that he could demand to know the real reason she had rejected him. Had it been because there was someone else waiting for her back home in England? How many times had he tortured himself with that thought over the years? Too many. One thing Zahir was certain of: before she left he would know everything…

‘The palace is truly amazing, and our quarters more than comfortable—thank you,’ Jake Rivers answered, linking his hands across his knees as he sat next to Gina. How old was he? Zahir wondered. He’d imagined that someone expert in their field, as he was supposed to be, would be older and more distinguished-looking. He could almost hear Farida teasing him. That’s because you watch too many old films where every English professor is a caricature, she’d say. A sigh escaped him.

‘That is good. As to the palace’s origins, we believe it was erected in the ninth century, when the Persian and Byzantine wars were over. For the people of this region it has always been a powerful stronghold, and a symbol of strength to see off any foe. They have always helped to maintain it, and take pride in its beauty as well.’

Helplessly and hungrily, his gaze moved back to Gina. What was she thinking? he wondered. Was she shocked to learn his true identity at last? Would she curse her folly in turning him down? It was a bitter straw he would willingly grasp—a salve to his wounded pride that he’d never thought he’d receive.

‘And your expertise is in antiquities, is it not, Dr Collins? he asked. He saw her take a breath in and out again, then briefly fold her hands in her lap as if to compose herself.’

‘Classical antiquities and ancient artefacts… My colleague Dr Rivers is the historian in our team, Your Highness.’

‘So you are equally qualified?’

‘More or less.’ Jake shrugged, throwing Gina an easy smile.

A stab of jealousy seared through Zahir’s insides, his spine stiffening in protest at the envied familiarity. ‘So Dr Collins is not your assistant?’ he remarked, with a touch of mockery in his tone.

‘My assistant?’ Now the young man’s lips split into a wide grin. ‘I mean no disrespect, sir, but she is far too independent and bossy for that!’

‘Is that so?’ Zahir