The Sheikh Who Married Her. Lynn Raye Harris
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have met Dr Collins?’ Stopping dead in his tracks, Zahir stared at his sister in surprise.
‘Yes, I have met her, and I like her very much. She said something rather wonderful to me about Azhar that gave me great comfort. I don’t have many girlfriends around my own age, so it’s very nice to have someone like Gina staying at the palace for a while. As you have employed her to make an inventory of some of the more important family artefacts, I thought I might be able to assist her? What do you think?’
The little speech she had just made was so surprising, so unexpected, that it took Zahir a few moments to digest it properly. It was the first time since Farida had been so tragically widowed that she’d shown even the slightest interest in anything other than her own misery. If Gina had been able to effect such a dramatic change—even in the short time she’d been here—what else might her presence be able to achieve? Zahir’s mind raced with something that felt very much like hope.
‘I am sure that if I speak with her on your behalf she would be only too happy to have your help. Do you by any chance know where she is now?’
‘I was just about to go and look for her.’
‘Let me do that. Why don’t you stay out here for a little while in the shade and relax? When I’ve discussed your suggestion with Dr Collins I will send Jamal to come and fetch you, okay?’
‘She is very pretty, brother … don’t you think?’
She is beautiful beyond imagining, his mind answered immediately. But Zahir curbed the words that hovered on his tongue for something a little more measured. After all, he didn’t think it wise to alert Farida to his deepening interest in Gina—or the fact that he had asked her to become his mistress!
‘Yes.’ He allowed the briefest smile to touch his lips. ‘She is very pretty … clever, too.’
He turned away before he had the urge to elaborate further on all Gina Collins’s very appealing attributes.
On returning to her luxurious rooms the previous night, Gina had known that sleep would elude her for the rest of the night-time hours. After her encounter with the man who set her heart racing like no other, finding him injured and then furious when she refused his offer to become his mistress, she’d been both distressed and heartbroken. It shocked her that he had such apparent disregard for his own safety—so much so that he would venture into a lawless region of his kingdom to deal with some gun-toting rebels. Did he not realise how much the people close to him cared for him?
But she was hurt, too, because all he seemed to be interested in as far as she was concerned was appeasing his lust. Had she imagined the tender words and fervent feelings he’d declared when they’d first encountered each other in the Husseins’ garden? Then she’d been so sure of his mutual love and affection that she’d given him her most precious gift. Had that meant nothing to him?
At breakfast out on the terrace, she ate very little. Her obvious lack of appetite even prompted Jake to comment.
‘Are you feeling all right, Gina? You’ve got dark circles under your eyes and you’ve barely touched your food.’
‘I’m fine,’ she murmured. ‘Just a little tired.’
‘The heat can do that. Best take things easy today,’ her companion responded consolingly.
Beckoning Jamal over to the table, after Jake had returned to his rooms to locate a book, Gina nervously enquired about Zahir’s condition. The taciturn servant told her that His Highness was ‘comfortable’ and back on his feet, but she should be prepared for the possibility that she might not see him at all that day. His physician had told him that he must rest.
She then politely asked if she could use the palace library. Informing her that he was instructed that she and her colleague Dr Rivers should be aided wherever possible to undertake their work, he agreed. If the man had any thoughts about why the Sheikh should have summoned her last night to his private rooms when he had just been injured, neither by word nor deed did he give them away.
A library had always represented a comforting safe place to Gina. Often, during her childhood, she had taken refuge there when life had felt hard and there hadn’t seemed to be a lot of love or affection going round. Books were her friends—constant loving companions that didn’t let her down.
Zahir’s library took her breath away. It was a repository for the written word that only the richest and most devoted imagination could conjure up. Shelf upon shelf of books ancient and modern confronted her, practically reaching up to the sky. Amid the shelves of books were sumptuous couches and chairs in which a browser could relax and peruse the book they’d selected. The ambience was not unlike that of a breathtaking cathedral, with a high-vaulted ceiling made of sandstone and granite interspersed with mosaic.
Gina had a plan. She was going to try and delve more deeply into Zahir’s family, going right back through as many generations as possible. There must be hundreds of history books on the region here, chronicling the dynasty through the centuries. If luck was on her side she might even come across old family journals … they would be her primary sources. She wanted to discover as much extra information as she could on the family’s association with the famed Heart of Courage, but she had to be discreet. If Zahir found out what she was doing he could very well put her on the next plane home and forbid her from visiting Kabuyadir again …
‘There you are’
Immersed in the pages of a fascinating book she’d pulled from a shelf, Gina spun round in shock at the sound of Zahir’s voice. He was as imposing as usual, in his dark robes and broad leather belt, his ebony hair like a velvety dark river rippling down over his shoulders. Straight away she noticed there was a light sheen of sweat on his brow, and she realised he must be in pain.
‘What are you doing up and about? Shouldn’t you be resting after what happened?’ Anxiously she clutched the dusty volume she’d been examining to her chest. A ray of sunlight beamed in through the cathedral-like narrow windows and warmed her back.
‘I’ve been walking in the garden, getting some air. I cannot stay confined to my bed for twenty-four hours a day just because I took a couple of small flesh wounds. Jamal told me I would find you here. What do you think of my library?’
‘It’s truly magnificent. A person could spend a lifetime in here and barely get through the books on even one shelf.’
Her comment drew the hint of a smile to his lips. Moving towards her, he moved his hand briefly to his side.
‘Are you hurting?’ she asked. The distressed catch in her voice sounded loud to her own ears.
‘That question is a double-edged sword. The truth is that my pride is stinging just as much as my physical wounds.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘I …’ He seemed to swiftly reconsider what he’d been going to say and lightly jerked his head towards the book Gina pressed to the white silk of her blouse. ‘What have you got there?’
‘It’s a history of the Byzantine empire.’ She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn’t discovered her with an incriminating family journal, but she still couldn’t help colouring guiltily.
‘A little light reading, eh?’ he joked, brown eyes twinkling.
Her insides melted like butter over a hot stove. Staring back at him, she fell into a hypnotic semi-trance.
‘I am sorry I treated you as I did last night,’ he murmured, ‘my behaviour was reprehensible.’
Now he was tipping up Gina’s chin, gazing at her as though he, too, was hypnotised.
‘You were hurt and angry … I understand, Zahir. I understand and I forgive you. But right now you clearly should be resting—not up and about like this, putting a strain on your wounds.’
She held her breath as his fingers moved across her cheek and into her hair. ‘Could any man blame