One More Night with Her Desert Prince.... Jennifer Taylor

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One More Night with Her Desert Prince... - Jennifer  Taylor


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with them before rejecting them in the cruellest way possible, seemed rather more than mere personal issues to her.

      ‘What happened between us that night is in the past and I hope that you have put it behind you as I have done.’ He shrugged. ‘If you haven’t then I would appreciate it if you’d say so. Hopefully, we can talk it all through and put what happened into perspective.’

      Oh, he must be desperate. Desperate to retain her services as a medic if not to possess her body. Sam’s smile became even more brittle. ‘There’s no need to talk anything through, I assure you. What happened that night is history, Khalid. It doesn’t have any bearing whatsoever on my life these days.’

      ‘Good. In that case, I can’t see that we shall have a problem working together.’ He stood up and held out his hand. ‘Welcome aboard, Sam. It’s good to have you with us.’

      Sam stood up, feeling her breath catch as she placed her hand in his. His fingers felt so cool as they closed around hers, cool and strong and so achingly familiar that she had to fight the urge to drag her hand away. She took a deep breath, forcing down the momentary panic. She wasn’t in love with Khalid anymore, if, indeed, she had ever been in love with him. She had thought about it a lot over the years, examined her feelings, gone over them time and time again, and gradually realised the truth.

      She had been dazzled by him—by his charm, by his sophistication, by his good looks—but love? No. It hadn’t been love. It couldn’t have been. Maybe she would have slept with him that night but that didn’t mean it would have been out of love. Men and women slept together all the time and for all sorts of reasons too. Desire, loneliness, physical need—they were all grounds for intimacy. But love was rare, love was special, love was what everyone sought and very few found. Including her.

      She hadn’t been in love with Khalid and he hadn’t been in love with her, so why was her heart racing, aching? Why did she feel so churned up inside? Why did she suddenly not believe all the reasoned arguments she had put together because she was standing here holding Khalid’s hand?

      As her eyes rose to his face, Sam realised with a sick feeling in her stomach that she had no idea. What she did know was that holding Khalid’s hand, touching him and having him touch her, made her feel all sorts of things she had never wanted to feel again.

       CHAPTER TWO

      SAM CLOSED HER eyes, shutting out the view from the plane’s window. They had been flying across the desert for over an hour now and her eyes were aching from the sight of the sunlight bouncing off the undulating waves of sand. She hadn’t realised just how vast the desert was, how many miles of it there would be. Although Khalid had explained when they had stopped to refuel at Zadra, the capital of Azad, that they would need to fly to their base at the summer palace, it hadn’t prepared her for its enormity. Just for a second she was filled with doubts. What if she couldn’t cope in such a hostile environment? What if she ended up being a liability rather than a help? It wouldn’t make her feel better to know that once again Khalid must regret getting involved with her.

      ‘Cup of tea?’

      Sam jumped when someone dropped down onto the seat beside her. Opening her eyes, she summoned a smile for the pleasant-faced woman holding a cup of tea out to her. It was pointless getting hung up on ideas like that. What had happened between her and Khalid in the past had no bearing on the present. She was six years older, six years wiser, six years more experienced and she wouldn’t allow Khalid to make her doubt herself. She didn’t need to prove her worth to him or to anyone else.

      ‘Thanks.’

      Sam took the cup and placed it carefully on the table, not wanting to spill tea on the butter-soft leather seat. They were using one of Khalid’s father’s fleet of private jets and the luxury had been rather overwhelming at first. She had only flown on scheduled aircraft before and hadn’t been prepared for the opulence of real leather upholstery and genuine wooden panelling in the cabin. There was even marble in the bathrooms, smooth and cool to the touch, a world removed from the plastic and stainless steel she was more used to. If Khalid had wanted to highlight the differences in their backgrounds then he couldn’t have found a better way than by inviting her to travel on this plane.

      ‘Nothing like a cuppa to give you a boost.’ The woman—Jessica Farrell, Sam remembered, digging into her memory—grinned as she settled back in the adjoining seat. If Jessica was at all awed by the luxury of their transport it didn’t show and Sam suddenly felt a little better. She was setting too much store by trivialities, she realised. Reading way too much into everything that happened. Khalid’s choice of transport had nothing to do with her.

      ‘There certainly isn’t.’ Sam took a sip of her tea then smiled at the other woman. ‘Have you been on other aid missions like this?’

      ‘Uh-huh.’ Jess swallowed a mouthful of tea. ‘This is my tenth trip, although it’s the first time I’ve been into the desert. I usually end up in the wilds of the jungle, so this will be a big change, believe me.’

      ‘Your tenth trip? Wow!’ Sam exclaimed in genuine amazement, and Jess laughed.

      ‘I know. I must be a glutton for punishment. Every time I get back home feeling completely knackered I swear I’ll never do it again but I never manage to hold out.’ Jess glanced across the cabin and her expression softened. ‘Peter can be so persuasive, can’t he?’

      ‘He can,’ Sam agreed, hiding her smile. It appeared that Peter had a fan, not that she was surprised. Peter was such a love, kind and caring and far too considerate for his own good. He had been involved in overseas aid work ever since they had qualified, combining his job as a specialist registrar at a hospital on the south coast with various assignments abroad. Sam wasn’t the least surprised that Jess thought so highly of him. What was surprising was that he and Khalid had remained such good friends when they were such very different people.

      Her gaze moved to Khalid, who was sitting by himself at the rear of the plane, working on some papers. He had been polite but distant when he had welcomed her on board that morning but as he had been exactly the same with the rest of the team, she couldn’t fault him for that. She had been one of the first to board and she had made a point of watching how he had treated everyone else even though she hated the fact that she had felt it necessary. They had both agreed that they had put the past behind them so what was the point of weighing up the warmth of his greeting? Nevertheless, she hadn’t been able to stop herself assessing how he had behaved and it was irritating to know that he still had any kind of a hold over her. Khalid was history. Her interest in him was dead and buried. The sooner she got that clear in her head, the better.

      He suddenly looked up and Sam felt her face bloom with colour when his eyes met hers. It was obvious from his expression that he had realised she was watching him and she hated the fact that she had given herself away. Turning, she stared out of the window, watching the pale glitter of sand rushing past below. She had to stop this, had to stop thinking about Khalid or she would never be able to do her job.

      ‘Peter told me you’re an obstetrician. I imagine you’ll be in great demand during this trip.’

      ‘I hope so.’ Sam fixed a smile to her lips as she turned to Jess. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Khalid return to his notes and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he had known that she’d been watching him but so what? He must have been watching her too if he had noticed.

      The thought wasn’t the best to have had, definitely not one guaranteed to soothe her. Sam hurried on, determined not to dwell on it. There was bound to be a certain level of … awareness between them after past events. However, that was all it was, an echo from the past and not a forerunner for the future.

      ‘Peter emailed me a printout of the infant mortality rates and I was shocked, to be frank. They shouldn’t be so high in this day and age.’

      ‘I know. I saw them too.’ Jessica grimaced. ‘The number of women who die in childbirth is almost as bad.’

      ‘I’m


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