One Desert Night - By Maggie Cox Page 0,65

pulse and contraction inside her as though they were his own. They had literally became one—together and indivisible—in a true connection that was not just of the body but of the heart and the spirit, too. The sensation was definitely transcendent.

'Didn't anyone ever tell you to finish your sentences? Ohh!' Gina's head fell back as her climax burst upon her, carrying her away to a state of bliss he was eager to join her in. She had never looked more radiant.

'Soon after we are married you will be carrying my child, rohi.' Zahir's fingers curled into the soft flesh of her hips as he deliberately kept her exactly where she was. Seconds later his seed spilled hot and unconstrained inside her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

GINA had hardly been able to stop shivering all day. But it was excitement not fear that had given her tremors. From the moment she had seen Zahir in his magnificent black and gold robes, looking like a powerful warrior from ancient times, from the moment she had uttered her vows in taking him as her husband, and from their entry into the palace's grand hall for the reception afterwards, where a huge gathering of friends and extended family waited to greet them, she had been beside herself with joy.

But there was one guest she was anticipating seeing more that anyone else. Her father Jeremy had flown in from London late the night before, and apart from greeting him enthusiastically and making sure he had everything he needed she hadn't really had a chance to talk to him yet.

He had not arrived unaccompanied. With him he had brought his new housekeeper Lizzie Eldridge, and now, when Gina saw him waiting patiently, away from the tight knot of well-wishers and friends who waited to greet the bride and groom, she noticed with a small leap inside her stomach that he was holding the attractive brunette's hand...holding it rather possessively, too.

Leaving Zahir's side, Gina rushed over to him. Opening his arms, her father tightly embraced her. Was that a new aftershave he was wearing? He looked very smart, dressed in a trim ecru-coloured suit, and his greying hair had had a decent cut, she noticed. Was this Lizzie's doing? Clearly the woman had wrought more changes in his life than simply easing the burden of housework for him. Gina was more than glad. She knew now that she loved her father dearly, and more than anything she wanted the second half of his life to be as fulfilling as the first had been with her mother.

'You look utterly radiant, my darling—like a princess from the court of one of the caliphs,' Jeremy enthused, still gripping her hand when their embrace was over. 'Does your young prince of the desert know how lucky he is?'

Gina gasped as Zahir came up behind her and drew her back against him. She adored it when he held her like that. Sensing his hard, indomitable male strength made her feel safe, loved and protected.

'He does indeed, Professor Collins. Believe me, I count my blessings every day that I have found the greatest love of my life, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving her to me in marriage.'

Flushing a little, the older man smiled. 'Just take good care of her, will you? She means a lot to me...always has and always will. During her growing up I was sometimes remiss in telling her that I loved her, and now that I'm older and wiser, and have realised what a great gift she is, I hope I can make up for that.'

'You will always find a welcome here at the palace,' Zahir told him warmly.

Feeling her throat swell tightly, Gina leaned forward and kissed her father on his cheek. 'I love you, too, Dad...very much.'

When she stepped back, Zahir drew her possessively to his side again, as if staking his claim and saying, I'm the one who will take care of her now.

'Many congratulations to you both.'

The expression in Lizzie Eldridge's clear grey eyes was a little nervous for a moment, and who could blame her? One minute she was in London, housekeeping for a professor still grieving for his wife, then the next she was in Kabuyadir, at the wedding reception of an imposing sheikh and the very ordinary British girl he incredibly wanted to marry! If Lizzie were in her shoes, she would wonder if she hadn't inadvertently rubbed Aladdin's lamp while she was doing her household chores and conjured