Innocent in the Desert: The Sheikh's Impatient Virgin / The Sheikh's Convenient Virgin / The Desert Lord's Bride. Trish Morey
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into his chest; she was shaking hard.
‘I can’t do this.’ Her hands clenched into her sides, her nails gouging half moons into the soft flesh of her palms as she fought back the sobs of emotion that rose in her throat.
‘I can.’
It was no boast, just a statement of fact.
She turned her head. In profile his features radiated confidence and maybe some of it seeped into her because she was able to control the quiver in her voice as she asked, ‘So what happens now?’ Don’t think too far ahead, she advised herself—just take things one step at a time. ‘Do I have to go into hiding or something?’ Her smile was painfully false as she added, ‘Should I dye my hair and wear dark glasses?’
Her comment drew Karim’s glance to her bright head and an image of it lying spread out on a pillow around her face flashed into his head. His jaw tightened.
‘That should not be necessary.’ But it might be necessary to put his libido back in its box; he had no time for distractions while he had this many potentially explosive balls in the air.
Eva shrugged. ‘Just an idea. So what does happen now?’ Feeling emotionally battered, she struggled to feel any real interest in his response.
‘We are going to the hospital.’ As he turned his head to assess her reaction to this information it occurred to Karim that had he walked through the doors of Casualty with Eva now they would have jumped her to the head of the queue.
The only trace of colour in her alabaster-pale face was the deep emerald green of her spectacular eyes. Her pallor served to emphasise the impression of fragility suggested by her fine-boned features and slight build.
Her self-possessed act might be more convincing if she had been able to stop her teeth audibly chattering.
‘A hospital?’
He nodded.
‘Why—are you ill?’ There was still the suggestion of shadows of fatigue under his eyes, but he was projecting an aura of such vitality that Eva struggled to associate it as a sign of physical vulnerabilty.
‘I am not,’ he confirmed. ‘But my daughter is.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You have a daughter?’ Eva didn’t know why the information came as such a shock.
His brows lifted. ‘Is there any reason I should not have a daughter?’
The regal hauteur in his manner made her feel irrationally defensive. ‘No, that is … no reason at all. I just didn’t …’ She stopped and angled him a questioning look. ‘She’s not well?’
‘No.’
The words ‘blood out of a stone’ popped into Eva’s head as she regarded him with growing frustration. ‘I’m sorry your daughter isn’t well.’ And it would explain why resolving her problem was less of a priority. Eva realised that she had been relying too heavily on the hope he could pluck a solution out of the air.
This was her problem, she reminded herself.
‘Your wife.’
‘She died.’
‘Sorry,’ she said, wincing at the inadequacy.
Able to hear the next probing question she was working towards, he acknowledged her words with a curt jerk of his head and said, ‘We were married nearly seven years. She was killed in a car accident two years ago. I have had lovers since.’ He arched a brow. ‘Does that satisfy your curiosity?’
Eva looked away and thought, Not really. He hadn’t answered the important questions like had he loved his wife? Did he still love her?
Karim regretted his tone. He was aware that, as the only person available, she was taking the brunt of his growing tension. The final round of blood results would be revealed soon. He was trying hard not to anticipate them one way or the other, and failing.
It actually helped being forced to turn his thoughts to something that he could control—he slid a glance towards the woman beside him and thought, To a degree.
Eva registered that they were entering an underground car park, a vast echoing concrete space. If this was for the hospital, business was not good because they were literally the only vehicle in it.
‘If you want to visit, I’ll wait in the car. Don’t worry, I’ll duck down if anyone comes,’ she promised.
‘I admire your ingenuity but there will be no other cars.’
Before she could question this peculiar prediction he added, ‘And you are coming with me.’
Eva threw him a doubtful look. ‘If your daughter is ill she might not want to see strangers.’
‘I will visit my daughter alone after the ceremony.’
All at sea now, Eva shook her head. ‘What ceremony?’
‘The civil wedding ceremony. By the time the story appears we will be husband and wife.’
Eva stared. ‘You know, you don’t look insane.’
‘Of course, the venue is not ideal.’
The concession drew a strangled laugh from Eva.
‘King Hassan favoured waiting until he arrives tomorrow, but—’
Eva’s eyes shot wide. ‘My grandfather is coming …?’ she yelped in alarm. ‘What is this—a conspiracy?’ Stupid question—of course it was.
He ignored her interruption and said calmly, ‘We met when at your grandfather’s palace last year.’
‘We did?’ she said, humouring him.
‘Yes.’
‘And was it love at first sight?’
Frowning at her sarcastic interjection, he continued stonily, ‘The official wedding plans were put on hold when Amira became ill. But we married in secret at a civil ceremony because you wished to be by my side and support me through this difficult time.’
Eva found it bizarre to hear this fairy story recounted in a flat, detached tone she associated with someone reciting the periodic table.
‘And this is your idea of a solution?’ She shook her head. ‘You look like you have a mind like a steel trap—how wrong could I be? I won’t even bother pointing out all the flaws in your plan, because it isn’t going to happen.’
‘That is up to you.’
‘That’s the first sane thing you’ve said,’ Eva observed, feeling not at all comforted by his admission.
‘Look, I don’t have the time for this.’ He glanced down at the watch on his wrist and the furrow lines between his brows deepened. ‘So I will spell out the facts and then you may make your decision.’
She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter what you say—’ She intercepted his expression and, with a disgruntled sniff, said, ‘Oh, all right, then, I’m listening.’
‘Your grandfather is a pragmatic man. He is not averse to change and progress, but he understands that such things are not brought about overnight. He could impose change but he would not because he knows that for change to succeed he must take his people with him on the journey.’
He said her grandfather but as she listened Eva got the impression that the philosophy he espoused was perhaps a little more personal—his own?
‘Honour seems an old-fashioned concept to you.’
He was presuming she had no moral values; Eva’s lips tightened at the assumption.
‘But,’ he continued, ‘it is a central precept to your grandfather’s life. If King Hassan did not react to an insult offered his granddaughter he would lose respect and be viewed as a weak king. He has no choice