One Desert Night - By Maggie Cox Page 0,24

against a bank of plump pillows on the emperor-size bed where he lay. His impressive bronzed chest was bare apart from the stark white bandage encircling his ribcage. A spectacled man with a neat black beard, she could only assume was the court physician, attended him. She bit back a gasp when she saw the spreading red stain beneath another neatly applied bandage round his hard-muscled bicep. The physician was just withdrawing a hypodermic needle from Zahir's uninjured arm, and both men glanced round immediately as Jamal opened the door and ushered her inside.

'Dr Collins…you have me at rather a disadvantage, I am afraid. Come closer. I won't bite you. I hardly have either the energy or the strength for that right now!'

How could he joke at a time like this? Gina thought as she hurried forward towards the bed. 'You're hurt. What happened?'

'Some foolish rebel leader thought he'd make a name for himself by killing the ruler of Kabuyadir—that's what happened! Luckily his ill-timed bullet only glanced against my arm and side. Do not look so worried, Dr Collins…my doctor has already assured me I'm going to live.'

Again the jokey manner. She could hardly understand it. Did he really take the fact he'd almost been killed so lightly? 'That's not funny. Don't you have a bodyguard or someone looking out for you when you do this kind of thing?' Because she was worried and upset, it was hard to control the quaver in her voice.

'My bodyguard took a bullet in the leg and is now being taken care of in hospital.'

Zahir's voice was full of frustration, and for a moment she saw regret and anger in his glance. She suddenly wished that Jamal and the doctor would leave them alone together, so that she could ascertain for herself how he was really feeling. Something told her he must be putting on a front of some kind. But then his rich dark gaze turned surprisingly warm as he surveyed her. To add to her surprise, he reached for her hand and possessively held it—clearly unconcerned that his physician and servant bore witness to the gesture.

They watched in silence as the doctor collected the tools of his trade and returned them to a bulky leather case. He spoke briefly in their shared language to Zahir, and his patient nodded as he listened. Then the man respectfully bowed, before backing away towards the door. Jamal held it open for him.

Catching his servant's eye, Zahir said in English, 'You may leave us. I will be perfectly all right now. Shortly I will take the good doctor's advice and get some sleep. Make sure news of the incident does not reach my sister's ears before I get a chance to tell her myself.'

'Yes, Your Highness.'

The door quietly closed, leaving them alone.

Staring down at the small slender hand he still clasped in his, Zahir raised it to his lips and planted a tender kiss there.

Biting her lip, Gina felt tears spring to her eyes. 'You shouldn't take such terrible risks,' she murmured, and she didn't care that he was a ruler of a kingdom. To her he was just a man—a man whose welfare she cared about more than any words could possibly convey.

'I do not like this—that I make you weep,' he said gently, brushing away the damp trail that wet her cheek. 'And trust me—this is not how I'd planned to spend the night with you.'

She did a mental double-take as his provocative words registered. Tugging her hand free from his clasp, she stared. 'Spend the night? What are you talking about, Zahir?'

'Do you really not understand me?'

'I told you already that I am here in a professional capacity only—that I—' She couldn't continue, because sudden self-consciousness had robbed her of the power to keep talking. The man lying atop the great bed, in black silk pyjama bottoms that fastened at least an inch and a half beneath his belly button, clearly did not share her problem. Tearing her gaze away from his perfectly taut stomach and slim bronzed hips, she found her body flooded with disconcerting heat.

His sculpted lips curved in the most licentious smile. 'You can assume your professional capacity—whatever that means—during the day, but what is to stop us being together during the night? I know you are not immune to my attentions, even though you might hide behind the cover of your professional role.'

'Look…I know you're hurt, and you're probably just looking for some kind of comfort, but I'm