Girl in the Bedouin Tent (6 page)

Yet a niggle of disquiet stirred.

She’d never been one to ogle a good-looking man. Not just because in her experience most of them were utterly self-absorbed.

What was it about Amir that awakened dormant feminine responses? That made her pulse quicken watching his loose-limbed stride, seeing the smattering of black hair across his broad chest as he turned?

Dark eyes snared hers across the width of the bed and her heart stuttered.

‘Do you want the lamp left on again tonight? Would you feel safer?’

The jitter of response in her belly eased at his prosaic words.

She’d been mistaken. There was nothing in his look but concern. Cassie strove to smother a twinge of illicit disappointment.

She didn’t
want
his interest! She was
grateful
he saw her merely as a responsibility!

‘I’m OK. You can turn the light off.’ She hadn’t even realised he’d slept last night with the light burning. Again, his consideration for her struck home.

‘If you’re sure.’ He turned away and a moment later the room was plunged into blackness.

Cassie blinked, as if that would let her see, but there was nothing—only the sound of Amir putting something on the small table beside the bed. She heard the whisper of the covers being drawn back, then the rustle of sheets as he slipped into bed.

Her heart hammered as reality hit her anew. She was sharing a bed with a stranger. A virile, powerful man. Surreptitiously her fingers slid under the pillow till they touched hardness, the golden hilt of that magnificent dagger.

Strangely that didn’t ease Cassie’s agitation. She couldn’t imagine needing a weapon to protect her from Amir. What concerned her was her unwanted awareness of him. The fact that she was torn between a desire to curl up on the far side of the tent, as far away as possible, and to snuggle into him, letting his strong arms encircle her and keep her safe.

‘Are you sure this is necessary?’ She kept her tone prosaic. ‘There were no servants here today. No one will know if we don’t spend the night together in the same bed.’ Cassie drew a shallow breath. ‘I could sleep over—’

‘No.’ The single word silenced her. ‘From now on you will be served as an honoured guest. I’ve made that clear to Mustafa. Besides …’ He paused. ‘You might as well be comfortable. After your ordeal you need rest.’

Silence engulfed them. Cassie focused on slowing her breathing, trying to relax. But meditation was impossible when even in the darkness she could picture with perfect mouth-watering clarity the honed power of Amir’s form.

‘Cassandra?’ His voice came out of the darkness, low and soft, a burr that brought every sense alert.

‘Yes?’ She frowned, wondering at Amir’s use of her full name.

‘I
will
punish that man for beating you.’ Amir paused long enough for Cassie to wonder if he sought the right words. ‘If
there is anything else he needs to be brought to account for you must tell me.’

Cassie frowned. How was she to know what other crimes the guard had committed? She’d be surprised if he hadn’t assaulted others. The man was a bully.

‘Cassie?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Or the others who brought you here. If they have harmed you in any other way they will be made to pay.’ The lethal softness of his tone finally penetrated. It was a voice that, for all its control, spoke of barely contained fury.

Cassie was grateful for the enveloping darkness that hid her fiery cheeks as his meaning became clear. ‘They didn’t touch me like that.’

‘You mustn’t be ashamed.’ His voice curled around her, warm and considerate. ‘If they forced—’

‘No!’ she gasped. ‘No, they didn’t.’ She paused, but the urge to talk outweighed her embarrassment. Here in the inky stillness it was easier to spill her fears. Easy to take comfort in Amir’s presence, just out of reach.

‘I was sure they’d rape me.’ Her breath stalled on remembered terror. ‘I expected it every hour. Whenever the guard came to the tent. When he looked at me like that …’

Cassie’s words petered out as her mind filled with an image of the man’s knowing smirk, the way just a look could make her feel unclean.

‘And when they took me to the big tent last night I thought.’

‘Of course you did.’

Cassie heard what sounded like swearing under his breath, heartfelt and violent. Yet this time it didn’t make her cringe. His anger on her behalf was balm to her lacerated soul.

‘You were brave last night, Cassandra. A lot of women would have been too terrified to defend themselves, much less attack.’

‘Cassie,’ she said. When he called her by her full name an unsettling frisson channelled through her. ‘Cassie.’

She loved the way he said her name. It seemed to vibrate across her skin in his impossibly deep, soft tones.

‘I’m sorry I hurt you.’ She’d never properly apologised. She’d been so busy focusing on herself that she’d let him tend to her injuries when all the time his had been potentially lethal. ‘If the knife had gone in further …’ She shuddered at the enormity of what she’d almost done.

‘It didn’t. It wouldn’t have.’ He sounded so matter-of-fact.

Her lips twisted. ‘It came close.’

‘Yes. You’re a woman to be reckoned with.’

Cassie’s heart skipped. Of all the things he could have said
that
was the nicest compliment of all to a woman who’d spent her early years being dismissed or excluded. Who’d had to fight for everything she had and was.

‘Does it hurt?’

‘I’d forgotten about it.’

Sure. He’d been too busy tending to her hurts and felling bullies with just a punch to be concerned about a dagger cut to his throat.

‘Remind me never to anger you when we’re sharing fruit.’

A gurgle of laughter bubbled in Cassie’s throat, easing her tension. It was the first time she’d felt light-hearted in days. It seemed a lifetime and it felt so good.

‘Thank you, Amir.’

Silence. ‘There’s no need for thanks, Cassie.’

She slid her hand out from under the pillow and flexed her fingers where they’d stiffened around his knife. ‘There’s every need.’

C
ASSIE
savoured the crisp mountain air and the spicy scent of fresh vegetation. After being cooped up in a tent, however luxurious, the freedom of being outdoors was magic. Even though the freedom was illusory.

She glanced at the rocks to her left. Somewhere hidden from sight were the guards, there to protect their royal guest and, no doubt, to ensure
she
didn’t escape.

‘You like the view?’ Amir’s voice came from beside her, and inevitably heat spooled through her veins. That low, sexy rumble undermined every barrier she tried to maintain.

She turned, noticing how, as usual, Amir kept his distance. More than necessary for propriety. Clearly he sent a message. That despite their forced proximity he had no interest in her person.

Had he recognised the dangerous laxness that had invaded her body at his massage? The heady longing for more?

‘It’s magnificent,’ she said quickly, cutting off that line of thought. ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’

He spread his hands. ‘Your confinement must be difficult to bear.’ His eyes met hers and she felt that familiar jolt. ‘I only wish I could do more.’

The grim lines around his mouth accentuated what she already knew. Amir was a man of action, used to resolving problems and no doubt getting his own way. It must gall him that he couldn’t get her away from the camp immediately.

‘I understand. Time looking after me is time away from
your negotiations. The more delays, the longer before we leave.’

A slight lift of dark eyebrows signified his surprise.

Had he thought she didn’t understand the situation? She’d little to do but think about it through the long, lonely hours.

‘I appreciate the trouble you’ve taken to arrange this.’ Not only Mustafa’s guards but Amir’s men were on duty for this short excursion. ‘But, believe me, the sooner you finish your work here the happier I’ll be.’ Despite Amir’s protection Cassie wouldn’t be truly safe till she was in Tarakhar.

She let her gaze drift to the magnificent vista, like a 3D map before her. ‘So where’s the border?’

Amir pointed to the foot of the escarpment. ‘Beneath this range. All that—’ his sweeping hand encompassed a vast plain of patchwork fields ‘—is Tarakhar.’

‘It looks prosperous.’ She recalled the route her bus had taken. ‘I’d expected it to be arid.’

‘Further south is the Great Interior Desert. One of the harshest environments in the world, yet still nomads exist on its fringes.’

Amir described his country, from its fertile valleys to its deserts and rugged mountains, with an enthusiasm that made her almost jealous. She enjoyed Melbourne, its bustle and vibrant arts culture, but she’d never experienced this love of place so clearly evident in Amir.

Gilded by the sun, what she could see of Tarakhar looked idyllic.

‘What’s that, crisscrossing the plain? They’re not roads, are they?’ Cassie caught the glint of water.

‘Irrigation channels. That’s the secret to the region’s prosperity. Water from the mountains is fed through channels, some of them underground, in a system that’s hundreds of years old.’

Amir led her to the comfortable folding chairs his staff had set out. Nearby a table groaned with food.

Faruq had excelled himself, Amir noted, eyeing delicacies to tempt the most jaded appetite.

Not that Cassie’s appetite was jaded. She wasn’t greedy, but her enjoyment of local dishes pleased him. Or maybe it was that he liked watching her eat. The way she savoured each taste. Her neat economy of movement.

She looked up to find him watching. A hint of colour tinted her cheeks and she turned away. Proof that she had no interest in him sexually. It was a timely reminder.

‘I hadn’t expected it to be so beautiful,’ she said, looking at the distant view.

‘You really do like it then?’ Strange how her simple praise delighted him. He’d imagined her experiences would prejudice her. That she wouldn’t see the beauty he did. But Cassie wasn’t the sort to let bitterness take hold. She resented the wrongs done to her, but at core she seemed positive, vibrant and surprisingly strong.

‘I enjoyed the little I saw from the bus too. And the people are very friendly.’

‘Hospitality comes naturally to the Tarakhans.’

Cassie looked at the massive feast spread between them and laughed, a short peal that seemed to scintillate in the dusky air. It drew a reluctant smile from him and threatened to shatter the formality between them.

Amir walked a fine line. He needed to put her at ease and remedy as far as possible the trauma of her abduction. Yet getting close was dangerous. Already they were too intimate for comfort. Safer by far if he kept their dealings on a casual yet slightly distant footing.

Grudgingly he stifled the urge to hear that laugh again. To discover more about his fascinating companion.

So … nothing else personal.

‘Let me tell you about those canals …’

Amir lay on his side, watching another dawn filter through the tent walls.

Another night without sleep, his mind in turmoil.

He shifted slightly and winced at the brush of cotton against his heated skin. Silently he cursed the need to wear loose trousers. But preserving Cassie’s modesty and her sense of security was paramount.

Besides, it wasn’t the restriction of fine cotton against aroused flesh that tortured him. It was Cassie.

Bad enough when she lay in the dark on the far side of the bed, her chuckle like the ripple of cool oasis water against hot skin, her breathless husky voice like the whisper of a zephyr through palm trees on a sultry night.

Each word, every action, reinforced the courage in her, commanding his respect.

Yet he had no difficulty picturing her smooth pale limbs, her forbidden curves and hollows. His fingers flexed at the memory of her skin under his hands as he massaged her. So supple, inviting and responsive. Had she realised she’d curled into his touch like a cat arching into a caress?

But he’d withstood temptation. It was this torture that had him at the edge of his tether.

In her sleep Cassie had abandoned her side of the bed and sought his warmth. She lay spooned behind him, her breasts cushioning his back, the heat at the juncture of her thighs warming his buttocks, her legs aligned with his. Her fingers splayed possessively over the taut muscle of his abdomen.

He fought the impulse to flex his hips, tilt his groin so her hand slipped and he felt her fingers
there,
where he wanted her most.

How had curiosity turned to fascination, fascination to desire in a few short days?

Amir drew a shuddering breath and tried to focus on something else. But Cassie chose that moment to sigh and wriggle closer, her warm breath hazing his back, her lips moving in innocent caress against his skin.

There was nothing innocent about her mouth. Even bereft of make-up she had the most sinfully sexy lips. Full, pouting, slightly downturned at the edges, giving her mouth a sulky look that stirred all sorts of libidinous thoughts.

Amir shuddered as desire racked him.

How many more nights of this would he have to endure?

It did no good to rationalise his reaction by remembering he hadn’t taken a lover in months. He wanted to roll her over, tug her beneath him and give free rein to the hunger that ravaged him.

But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. She’d been traumatised and was under his protection. She trusted him.
That
was what gave him strength to withstand temptation.

Strange that even the thought of his approaching nuptials did nothing to douse his need.

A
MIR
slammed to a stop in the doorway between the entrance and the main chamber of the tent.

He hadn’t allowed himself time today to dwell on Cassie, keeping himself busy with the intricate give and take of negotiations with a wily opponent and the slow pace of formal hospitality.

Yet he hadn’t been able to rid himself of that sizzle of awareness. The knowledge that when he returned to his quarters
she ‘d
be there.

For days he’d behaved impeccably, honourably, despite the arousal twisting him in knots. Despite the lack of sleep that, instead of fatiguing him, focused his brain more sharply on Cassie.

And now—this!

His eyes widened as he saw her in the centre of the room. She wore again that skimpy dancer’s outfit as she stretched and twisted in a show of supple strength that made his unruly brain imagine another form of exercise altogether.

He tried to clear his throat, watching as she straightened, turned, then dropped to the ground, her legs opening in perfect splits before she leant to one side, hands around her foot, forehead to her knee.

Desire surged. He wanted her wrapped around him, those pale legs locking tight and her head thrown back in abandon.

He wanted—

‘Amir!’ A smile lit her face, pleasure making her remarkable eyes glitter before she ducked her gaze to focus on his collarbone.

That still intrigued him—the way a woman so feisty and strong, who’d faced him down like a haughty empress when she’d been brought to him in chains, had for days avoided his gaze.

As if despite her physical courage and her impressive independence there lurked a woman unsure of herself with a man.

Or a woman aware of his unspoken tension.

He paced into the room, letting the curtain drop behind him.

Cassie scrambled to her feet, acutely aware these clothes revealed too much flesh.

Conscious too that something was wrong. Amir’s jaw was sharply defined, his shoulders rigid, as if every muscle drew tight. The way his eyes glittered, bright with a fierce light she couldn’t name, sent her pulse racing.

‘What’s happened?’

He shrugged and moved further into the room. ‘Nothing. More talk. Offer and counter-offer. Courtesy and ritual.’ He flexed his shoulders and a fleeting smile lit his face. ‘It’s a tedious business. But necessary.’

Cassie frowned. She was conscious of the burdens Amir carried. But he shouldered them with an ease that made her forget sometimes he was ruler of a wealthy kingdom, responsible for the wellbeing of millions.

With her here he couldn’t even enjoy privacy after a long day.

She reached for her voluminous cloak, for the first time truly registering the inconvenience she was to him and wishing she could spirit herself away. Grateful as she was for his protection, she’d been too wrapped up in her own fears to consider how little he must want her here.

She spent her time fighting boredom and the inevitable anxiety, knowing the tent was surrounded by armed guards—some of them men who’d abducted her. She spent too much time thinking about Amir. But her thoughts hadn’t been about the inconvenience she caused him.

‘Are you a dancer?’ His question jerked her head up.

For days they’d kept their conversation impersonal, centred on the needs of the moment. As if by mutual agreement their difficult situation would be made easier if they kept their distance. Cassie was sure that was why he spent so little time in his quarters.

Yet despite that Amir was the focus of her waking thoughts as well as her dreams. Her heart quickened in his presence and a hot, unsettled feeling flickered low inside if she inadvertently caught his eye.

‘No, I’m not a dancer.’ Apart from a lack of talent she wasn’t built for it. Cassie had too many curves. But she wasn’t about to draw Amir’s attention to her overripe dimensions. Bad enough that he’d had an eyeful just now.

The thick cloak settled around her shoulders, scratchy but concealing.

‘They looked like dance exercises.’ He stopped in front of her and Cassie looked up into his bold, gorgeous face.

A white-hot sizzle of awareness sheared through her. It grew stronger, this discomforting reaction, every time he looked at her. She just hoped he had no inkling of what she felt whenever he drew close.

‘I did a little dance years ago, but there’s pilates and yoga thrown in. I need something to keep me occupied. I’m climbing the walls with nothing to do.’

Amir had brought no books or papers in English that she could use to occupy herself. Alone each day, the time dragged. She’d written long letters on paper Amir had provided to send to friends when she got away from here. But she’d finished
those. Today she’d found herself counting the tassels on the silk wall hangings.

She was going stir crazy. Was it any wonder her thoughts circled back to him?

Amir didn’t say anything. The way he surveyed her made Cassie look away, tension ratcheting up.

‘I’m an actress,’ she blurted out to fill the silence. ‘It’s important I keep limber. You’d be surprised how much performing takes out of you.’ Besides, with her weakness for sweets, and her tendency to gain weight on the hips just looking at a block of her favourite dark chocolate, she knew the importance of exercise.

‘An actress?’ One dark brow arched high. ‘What do your parents think of that?’

She almost smiled at his reaction to her profession. ‘It’s a respectable job, you know.’ When he didn’t respond she shrugged. ‘I have no parents. My mother died last year.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He paused, his brow puckering. ‘You must have lost your father young.’

It was on the tip of Cassie’s tongue to agree and end the conversation, but looking up into Amir’s concerned expression she found the lie died on her lips.

Cassie had spent a lifetime perfecting the art of keeping her private life private, her thoughts a closed book. Yet something about this man with the penetrating eyes had her spilling all sorts of things. Like the night she’d admitted her fears and felt ridiculously comforted by his response.

‘My father …’ She shrugged and looked over Amir’s shoulder. ‘We’re estranged.’ That was a polite way of putting it. He’d never wanted to know about her.

‘But he has an obligation to care for you. To protect you.’

Cassie turned away, her movements stiff. She settled herself on a cushion by the low table.

‘Cassie?’

She looked up to find him scowling. He’d seemed worn and
tense when he’d arrived, and all she’d done was make things worse.

‘It’s all right. Really. Water under the bridge.’ She reached out and plucked a dried apricot from the earthenware platter a servant had brought.

In a single smooth movement Amir dropped cross-legged beside her. His knee grazed her thigh and she had to force herself not to shuffle away lest he realise how his nearness affected her.

‘Tell me.’

Cassie looked at the apricot and knew its sweetness would turn sour in her mouth. She put it on the edge of the platter. ‘My father’s idea of caring was to pay for me to attend boarding school as early as possible to get me out of the way.’

‘Perhaps he sought a good education for you.’

She flashed Amir a hot glance and shook her head. ‘He never wanted me. I was an inconvenience. It was easier for him if I wasn’t underfoot.’

Silence. Amir reached for the apricot she’d rejected and bit into it. She tried and failed not to let her gaze linger on his strong white teeth, the movement of his jaw. His lips. Were they soft as she imagined?

‘Men aren’t renowned for showing affection.’

She laughed then. A bitter little chirrup of sound that revealed too much of the hurt she’d thought she’d buried years ago. She snapped her mouth shut.

‘Cassie? What is it?’

Cassie tilted her head and met his eyes. They were impossibly dark, yet she could swear she read sympathy there. She felt its impact like a missile blasting apart her carefully constructed defences. In all her years there’d been precious little sympathy or understanding. It wasn’t something she expected. It made her feel … vulnerable.

Cassie didn’t do vulnerable. Survival depended on being decisive and independent.

That was why she kept herself busy. Always looking for the next challenge, throwing herself into new projects as a way of ignoring the emptiness that threatened. That was how she’d got into teaching drama at a community centre. That in turn had sparked her interest in volunteering abroad.

‘It’s kind of you to be concerned, but it’s all in the past.’

His steady gaze told her he didn’t buy that.

She drew a slow breath. ‘My parents weren’t married. My father already had a family and he had no intention of advertising my presence.’

‘I see.’

Cassie doubted it. But she wasn’t about to mention the fact that her mother had lived as mistress to Cassie’s father for years while he stayed with his wife and legitimate family. Neither had wanted a kid in the way to cramp their style. Cassie had been an encumbrance, an accident that shouldn’t have happened.

‘So there’s no one to worry about my choice of career. I make my own decisions.’

‘And who is there now, worrying what’s become of you?’ Amir’s voice, like an undercurrent of silk, cut through her bravado.

She pasted on a bright smile. ‘The school I’m going to isn’t expecting me for another week. But my landlady’s expecting a postcard from Tarakhar, and my girlfriends are looking forward to hearing all about my adventures when I get back. I’ll have plenty to tell them, won’t I?’

He didn’t smile. ‘So there’s no one special?’

Cassie swallowed. ‘No.’

She’d been alone all her life. Why, now, did that suddenly seem so momentous? She blinked, mortified at the emotion welling out of nowhere.

‘What about you?’ Is there someone waiting at home? Someone special?’ It wouldn’t surprise her to discover he had a girlfriend patiently waiting. Or perhaps a wife.

Why hadn’t she thought of that before? Her stomach plunged into icy distress at the thought she’d shared a bed with a married man, dreamt of him touching her in ways she’d never let any man touch her.

Cassie’s stomach churned at the idea of Amir with another woman. That had to be a bad sign, surely?

‘No one special.’ He didn’t smile, just held her eyes with an intensity that made every nerve stir.

Something unspoken lay between them. Something portentous that she couldn’t put a name to.

The silence between them stretched beyond companionable. Her pulse beat a quickening tattoo as she tried not to respond to the scent of sandalwood and warm male skin that invaded her nostrils and darted her thoughts in prohibited directions.

She strove for a change of subject, flustered as she hadn’t been since that first night.

‘Do you enjoy acting?’ He came to her rescue, slanting his gaze down at her hands, threading together in her lap.

Instantly Cassie stilled. ‘I love it. Most of the time.’ Drama had been a refuge and an escape.

‘But not always?’

She shrugged. ‘Like everything, it’s got its ups and downs.’ There were too many men who believed actresses, particularly ones who looked like her, were either dumb or easy or both. ‘But I make a living … most of the time. I wait tables and do whatever else I have to in order to make ends meet. It took me ages to save up for the fare here.’

‘It was so important that you work here as a volunteer?’

‘It’s something I want to do.’ She lifted her shoulders in a casual shrug, unwilling to try explaining the importance of this opportunity. With Amir she found herself revealing too much and this was … private.

Though she loved acting, increasingly she felt a need for something more in her life. Despite the bonhomie she’d found
in her profession, there was a focus on individual careers—every man and woman for themselves.

All her life Cassie had felt adrift and alone. Time and again she’d tried to connect with her mother without success. Her mother had blamed Cassie for her break-up with the one man she’d claimed to care for: Cassie’s father. Having a kid underfoot, she’d said, had destroyed the romance. After that she’d shut everyone out emotionally—especially Cassie—never displaying anything like true caring again.

Cassie had forged that experience into self-reliance and decisiveness. Yet she yearned for something more solid. Stability, purpose, community. A sense of contributing.

These months in Tarakhar would help her decide if she wanted more permanent changes in her life.

Avoiding Amir’s penetrating gaze, Cassie reached for an apricot, inadvertently colliding with him as he leaned forward. Amir jerked violently away as if scalded.

Stunned, Cassie watched his features grow taut, the grooves bracketing his mouth carving deep. A frown pleated his brow as he yanked his hand back from the table.

He looked forbidding, as if she’d trespassed into private territory.

Which she had. He was royalty, used to the best of everything, and here he was sharing his private accommodation with an unwanted guest. A guest who normally would be far beneath his notice.

She waited for him to make some light remark, change the subject and put her at ease as he did so often.

He remained silent.

In a flurry of movement Cassie made to rise.

‘Stay!’ It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

Amir reached out as if to prevent her rising, but his hand halted a telling distance from her arm. As if touching her tainted him. Unbidden, she recalled him holding her behind him as he faced the dangerous mob. His fingers stroking
ointment on her bruised skin. Had he felt distaste then at the need for contact?

The look on his face was grimly remote. Vanished was their easy camaraderie. Had she imagined approval in his eyes? Or had it just been a mask for disdain?

It wasn’t fair or reasonable, but out of the blue the old sense of inferiority swamped her. Worse this time, because Amir was the catalyst. The man from whom she’d come to expect support.

She’d lost count of the times people had pulled away, distancing themselves when they learned the truth about her parents. About why her father had paid the bills at the elite school where she’d never felt welcome. There’d been the girls who’d made her life hell. The teachers who’d watched her with prurient curiosity or distaste. The parents who’d looked down their noses at her, as if fearing she might contaminate one of their precious darlings.