Bella's Disgrace. Sarah Morgan
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must be too far away from him. Still, there was always her hair. Her long, blonde hair. Bella tried to flick her hair over her shoulder but it was so stiff with sand it barely moved.
Realising that she was going to have to rely on her wits, not her looks, she felt her insides quail. ‘I was stuck in this place in the middle of nowhere—’
‘What was it called?’
‘The Retreat.’ Bella shuddered. ‘It’s an alternative, yoga. thingy—a drive-you-mad place—’
‘It is a world-renowned centre for contemplative meditation.’
‘That too.’ Bella discreetly removed some sand from inside her nails and grimaced with distaste. ‘Anyway, there was sand everywhere—sand, sand and more sand.’
‘In the time it is taking you to voice your excuse, the entire landscape of the desert will have altered,’ he drawled, and Bella glared at him.
‘You’re so unsympathetic. I suppose you’re going to tell me you love the sand.’
‘I have too little time to enjoy it.’
‘How much time is too little? A nanosecond? I don’t think I ever want to see a grain of sand again. And that’s why I borrowed the horse. I just had to get out of there! I doubt I’ll ever be able to look at a beach again. I’ll be taking city breaks from now on.’
His gaze hardened. ‘So you just walked into a busy stable and helped yourself to a horse.’
‘Actually, that was really weird.’ Bella wrinkled her nose as she remembered how odd it had seemed to her at the time. ‘The place was deserted. A bit spooky actually. No one around. It was as if something was about to happen—’ she gave a shrug ‘—but that was probably wishful thinking. Nothing ever happened in that place, I can tell you. My imagination must have been playing tricks.’
‘It’s heartening to know that you are capable of imagination—’ But he seemed distracted, as if something she’d said had captured his attention. ‘So you are saying that no one was there? That you simply walked into the yard, took the horse and rode into the desert?’
‘Yes. Whoever is running that stable should fire some of the staff because they were really lax. I mean, what if one of the horses was sick or something?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Anyway, so I rode into the desert, following the track to the city. Except it obviously wasn’t the right track. It all looks the same. And then I realised I was lost. If you hadn’t come along when you did—’
‘You would be dead.’ His blunt appraisal made her shiver.
‘Yes. Very probably. So, thanks again. I’m lucky you found me.’
He watched her for a long moment, as though he were making his mind up about something, and then he strode across the tent, pulled open a canvas bag and removed a robe. Intercepting her stare, his mouth tightened. ‘You might want to look away.’
‘Why would I want to do that?’ Bella’s wicked side took over, driving her into territory she knew she would have been better avoiding. ‘You have a fantastic body.’
Shock flared in his eyes and dark streaks of colour highlighted his magnificent cheekbones. ‘And you play a dangerous game for a woman alone and unprotected. Perhaps I am not a good man to be trapped with, habibiti.’ His voice was suddenly soft and there was a shimmer of mockery in his jet-black eyes. He slid the robe over his head in a fluid movement, somehow managing to discard the towel at the same time. ‘I believe you have a saying: “out of the frying pan into the fire.'”
Bella’s mouth dried as she watched him slide a dagger into the folds of his robe and her stomach fluttered with nerves. ‘Well, it’s certainly true that in the past few hours I’ve been fried, sautéed and flambéed.’ Her weak attempt at humour again fell flat and she flopped back against the pillows, her head throbbing and her bravado wearing thin. ‘All right, I get the message. No humour allowed. But you ought to know it’s polite to at least smile when someone makes a joke.’ She wanted to ask why he needed a dagger, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.
He was a complete contrast to the men she usually met—a lethal combination of untamed man and raw sexuality. A real man, she thought to herself, distracted by the dark shadow that emphasised the strong lines of his jaw. It was hard to imagine him sitting at a desk in a tall city office, but she had no problem imagining him wrestling a wild animal with his bare hands. Embarrassed to admit that she found him astonishingly attractive, Bella put her hands over her eyes and gave a groan. She was the ultimate modern city girl and here she was lusting over macho man.
The heat must have finally got to her.
‘I’m surprised you find your situation amusing.’ His gaze held hers. ‘You’re lost and you have absolutely no idea where you are.’
‘I’m not lost. I’m with you.’
‘And that gives you no cause for alarm?’ His cool voice held a dangerous edge. ‘I could be a greater threat to your safety than being lost in the desert. There is no one else near you. No one to rescue you. No one to hear you scream.’
Bella burst out laughing. ‘You sound as though you’re doing a voice-over for a horror movie.’
‘I am merely pointing out that a healthy dose of caution might increase your life expectancy.’
‘I’ve lived in London and New York. I’m streetwise.’
His smile was slow and deadly. ‘You are not in London or New York now. You are in the middle of the Arabian Desert with a man you don’t know. And outside this tent there are poisonous snakes, scorpions and enough sand to swallow you whole and never again reveal your body.’
His words made her shiver and Bella rubbed her hands over her arms, growing more alarmed by the minute. ‘Stop trying to scare me. Do you want a hysterical woman in your tent?’
‘I don’t want a woman in my tent at all.’
‘Oh—’ Bella relaxed slightly. ‘I get it. You’re gay.’
Incredulity flared in his dark eyes. ‘I am not gay. But nor did I seek company on this trip. I value solitude.’
‘Really?’ For a moment she was fascinated. ‘You mean you actually want to be on your own?’
‘Time for reflection is a gift.’
Bella pulled a face. ‘In my opinion, reflection is an overrated pastime. I prefer being around people.’
‘So what were you doing in the Retreat?’
‘I was sent there.’
‘By … ?’
‘Look, do we have to talk about this? The place was bad enough when I was there, without having to think about it afterwards. My brain is tired of examining itself. I’m allergic to meditation. Life is difficult enough without reflecting on it.’ Bella watched as he poured himself a glass of water. Every movement he made was assured and confident, and although he was quite staggeringly good-looking, he was far too serious for her.
And now he was looking at her with the same expression of grim disapproval that her father used whenever she saw him.
Bella closed her eyes, the throb in her head worsening by the minute.
She heard him step towards her. ‘How bad is that headache?’
‘Headache? What headache? I don’t have a headache.’ She would rather have died than admit weakness to this stony-faced, austere sex god. ‘I’ve never felt better in my life.’
‘You’re dehydrated. Drink more water.’
Bella contemplated ignoring his advice but the pain tearing through her head was growing worse so she reached for the cup that he’d