One Desert Night - By Maggie Cox Page 0,42

deep, dark, silken orbs—had spoken volumes as they'd studied her. In turn she had felt as if she was developing an incurable fever—a fever that no medicine could cure because the only cure for her malady was him.

He'd indicated that he was going crazy, not being able to be alone with her, and she echoed the feeling with every fibre of her being. Even more so now, after she'd been grabbed by that madman in the marketplace! Now she wanted to grab onto Zahir—to have him exhibit his passion in the most uninhibited feral way—so that she could convince herself she'd survived that attack—still lived, still breathed—and that someone cared, truly cared, that she had.

In a deeply luxurious armchair in a corner of the room Farida sat silently, absorbed in some intricate-looking embroidery. At any other time the simple, peaceful movements of needle and thread going in and out of the gold and white silk runner she was sewing would have lulled Gina into relaxing.

Sensing her glance from where she lay, resting on the bed, the other girl lifted her pretty mouth in a smile. 'Are you okay? Do you need anything?'

Gina shook her head, with the barest of smiles back. It was such a loaded question. What else could she do when what she needed most of all was Zahir? 'I feel ridiculously pampered and spoiled, lying in bed like this, so—no...there's nothing I need right now, Farida...thank you.'

'You must be the most undemanding patient in the world, Gina. After what you suffered this afternoon you could ask for anything and Zahir and I would try to get if for you.'

'Talking of your brother—His Highness—will he join us for dinner tonight?'

'I'm afraid not, Gina. He has some important business to attend to. He left in a bit of a hurry with the captain of the security forces and told me he didn't know when he would be back. In the meantime he left strict instructions that you were not to lift as much as a finger. Dr Saffar suggested you should have a tray brought up to your room rather than endure a more formal dinner, and I agree with him. We all want to make sure you are fully recovered from your ordeal before even the slightest demands are made of you.'

Swallowing down her crushing disappointment that she wouldn't see Zahir for the entire evening, Gina drew her knees up beneath the counterpane, then wrapped her arms round them. 'And what about Dr Rivers? Did anybody tell him what happened?'

'Yes, he was told. He was very shocked. He told Jamal to tell you that he would see you when you felt more recovered.'

She grimaced at that. It was typical of Jake not to disturb himself with hearing the details of what had happened to her, and also not to want to see her in case she was distressed. He wasn't the kind of man who could cope with any kind of display of female emotion. But in a way Gina was relieved. Spending time with her colleague when she was fit and well was taxing enough, never mind when she wasn't...

In the light of the single brass lamp beside the bed Gina drifted off to sleep after another meal she had barely touched. In the far distance the strains of some haunting melody played on an oud reached her ears. Eventually it lulled her to sleep. But the dreams that visited her were not the kind of dreams that ensured her rest was peaceful.

When the memory of a cruel strong arm round her neck replayed itself with frightening clarity, she bolted upright in shock. As her gaze adjusted to the dim lighting she saw that Farida was no longer ensconced in the armchair. Someone else had taken her place. It was Zahir...

Her heart thudding, she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes to focus better on the dark, haunting face that was almost in complete shadow.

'I could not stay away, rohi. Did you think I could?'

He got up from the chair and came to the bedside. To Gina's captivated senses his shoulders seemed extra wide tonight, and he was tall—so tall. His hypnotic dark eyes and disturbingly handsome features had never been so powerfully affecting and beguiling. With his unbound ebony hair and the black robes that covered his strong masculine form he resembled nothing less that a mythical prince—a prince who had perhaps reigned here at the same time as the necklace that held the Heart