One Desert Night - By Maggie Cox Page 0,26

cardboard cut-out prince who sits in the palace issuing orders. I am a politician and diplomat, too, and after many months of this rebel faction employing their bullying tactics on peaceful villages it was time to step in and demonstrate once and for all that my kingdom is not going to simply sit back and accept it! Who better to bring that message home to them but the ruler himself?'

'Please don't get so worked up. I'm afraid you'll re-open your wounds if you get too upset.'

'You can go now.'

'What?' Taken aback by the curt dismissal, Gina froze.

'You are both a painful distraction and an annoyance, and what I need right now is some peace and quiet to contemplate the situation and recover.'

'All right, then. I understand.'

Just as she made to leave Zahir reached for her, curving his big hand round the back of her neck to pull her face down to his. His angry kiss was hot, hard and passionate, with no pretence at being anything other than punishing.

'Now you can go.'

His glittering dark-eyed glance made her limbs feel heavy as lead. Reaching the door, she exited the sumptuous room hardly knowing how she managed it…

A wounded bear was said to be dangerous. The following morning, walking alone in his private garden, Zahir felt his wounds throbbing and painful, and reflected on the crazy rebel who had inflicted them on him and his bodyguard. He was hurt, angry, and liable to lash out verbally at anyone who dared to come near.

Thankfully his servant Jamal intuited his moods well. The man's patience and understanding seemed to silently embrace even the most unpredictable and sombre shades of his employer's personality. Earlier he had brought Zahir coffee. Thinking of Gina—and how he had treated her last night—he had irrationally flung the small brass tray across the courtyard. Everything had landed in the previously calm waters of the ornamental pond, but Jamal had immediately hurried to retrieve it all and clean up the mess without batting an eyelid.

In an hour's time, after he had been examined again by his physician, Zahir was due to address a meeting of his council regarding the uprising by the rebels. But right now the topic that consumed him even more than that was definitely Gina. He had offered her a situation that most women would have grabbed at—but, no. Not her. Instead she preferred to put her job and her ailing father back at home before him…again!

While he privately had a grudging admiration for her loyalty to both her job and her family, it didn't stop him from feeling intensely jealous and aggrieved that he still clearly featured so low on her list of priorities. But he could not let her leave so easily. He had to find a way of making her stay in Kabuyadir for longer than just a few short days. After seeing her again he knew he would not easily get her out of his blood a second time—no matter how angry he was.

'Zahir!'

A slight, dark-robed figure was hurrying towards him along the paved pathway, arms extended. As his sister reached him, she all but stole the breathe from his lungs when she threw herself into her arms. Zahir couldn't stop the grunt of pain he emitted as her body collided with the inflamed bandaged wound at the side of his ribcage.

As she stepped back in alarm, he saw the damp smudge beneath Farida's pretty eyes—evidence that she'd already been weeping.

'I couldn't believe it when I heard that you'd been shot. Why didn't somebody tell me? Was it because you ordered them not to? I'm not some little child you have to constantly protect, you know. I was a married woman until recently, and I won't fall apart if I hear bad news—even if it frightens me. What on earth possessed you to travel into the heart of the brigands' stronghold with just a handful of soldiers and a bodyguard?'

Zahir could hardly believe his ears. Here was another woman chastising him for doing his utmost to resolve a situation that was bringing fear and suffering to his people! Had his father's actions been questioned with such doubt and disbelief? He didn't think so.

The scowl on his face was inevitable. 'I had to try and talk to their leader. He's a hot-headed egomaniac, seeking to gain power by getting a band of similar unthinking idiots to rob and intimidate the villagers. In the end—when I saw that reason simply did not compute with him—I gave