The Sheikh Who Married Her. Lynn Raye Harris
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Zahir was certain of: before she left he would know everything.
‘The palace is truly amazing, and our quarters more than comfortable—thank you,’ Jake Rivers answered, linking his hands across his knees as he sat next to Gina. How old was he? Zahir wondered. He’d imagined that someone expert in their field, as he was supposed to be, would be older and more distinguished-looking. He could almost hear Farida teasing him. That’s because you watch too many old films where every English professor is a caricature, she’d say. A sigh escaped him.
‘That is good. As to the palace’s origin, we believe it was erected in the ninth century, when the Persian and Byzantine wars were over. For the people of this region it has always been a powerful stronghold, and a symbol of strength to see off any foe. They have always helped maintain it, and take a pride in its beauty as well.’
Helplessly and hungrily, his gaze moved back to Gina. What was she thinking? he wondered. Was she shocked to learn his true identity at last? Would she curse her folly in turning him down? It was a bitter straw he would willingly grasp—a salve to his wounded pride that he’d never thought he’d receive.
‘And your expertise is in antiquities, is it not, Dr Collins?’ he asked. He saw her take a breath in and out again, then briefly fold her hands in her lap as if to compose herself.
‘Classical antiquities and ancient artefacts. My colleague Dr Rivers is the historian in our team, Your Highness.’
‘So you are equally qualified?’
‘More or less.’ Jake shrugged, throwing Gina an easy smile.
A stab of jealousy seared through Zahir’s insides, his spine stiffening in protest at the envied familiarity. ‘So Dr Collins is not your assistant?’ he remarked, with a touch of mockery in his tone.
‘My assistant?’ Now the young man’s lips split into a wide grin. ‘I mean no disrespect, sir, but she is far too independent and bossy for that!’
‘Is that so?’ Zahir leant forward, his glance falling into a slow, leisurely examination of a pair of flawless china-blue eyes. ‘How interesting … how interesting indeed …’
CHAPTER THREE
IF THEY had been with anyone but the Sheikh of Kabuyadir, Gina would have elbowed Jake in the ribs hard for his inappropriate teasing. He was developing into quite a brilliant historian, but he scored very few points for tact. Still, it really wasn’t Jake at all who interested her in this discussion.
How could it be? It was the astounding discovery that it was Zahir who was ‘His Highness’—handsome Sheikh of a historically once powerful Arabian kingdom and owner of the ancient and beautiful Heart of Courage. Never in her wildest dreams had she envisaged that that title belonged to him.
Why had he not told her the truth about who he was that night they’d spent together? And afterwards, when she’d returned home, he’d had ample opportunity to tell her when he phoned—but he hadn’t. Had he feared that her decision to return would be swayed only by his exalted position and not the incredible man that he was?
‘Dr Rivers and I are a team, Your Highness.’ She blushed when she said his title, because it felt so surreal, yet her eyes hungrily cleaved to his strong tanned face and the long ebony hair that swung round his shoulders when he moved. He was dressed in traditional male clothing, and it was easy to see that the materials were much finer than anybody less privileged could afford. With his broad shoulders and natural air of command Zahir was every inch the esteemed ruler of his people, and seeing him again was like receiving a fresh supply of oxygen—as if for so long her ability to breathe freely had been compromised and Gina hadn’t even known it.
‘And we hope that our individual fields of expertise complement each other when it comes to undertaking our research,’ she finished with a strained smile.
Making no immediate comment, Zahir continued to steadily hold her gaze. Gina prayed that he couldn’t see the longing, regret and dashed hopes reflected there. Thankfully she heard the doors open behind her and guessed that Jamal had returned with their refreshments.
As he placed the large handmade brass tray down on the coffee table, the air was suddenly filled with the tantalising aroma of cardamom-spiced coffee. It was a delicacy that Gina had enjoyed when she was previously in Kabuyadir. Beside the small gold-rimmed cups, next to the coffee pot known as a dallah, on an ornate brass dish was an array of appetising-looking sweetmeats. One by one, Jamal served them their coffee. When he would have gone to Zahir first, his esteemed boss redirected him to Gina.
‘We have lots to tell you about the Heart of Courage, Your Highness,’ Jake piped up as Jamal bowed to Zahir, then discreetly left them to talk.
‘Positive things, I presume?’
‘Without a doubt … Its history is incredible. It’s not every day that a historian is privileged enough to research an artefact that has its roots in the ancient Persian Empire.’
‘So your own enquiry into its history has corroborated what I already know to be true about its origins? Then I am gratified that you welcomed the opportunity to research it. Were you similarly pleased, Dr Collins?’
‘Of course … It’s the chance of a lifetime for someone in my profession. The kind of thing we all dream of. To finally see the jewel for myself will be something I’ll never forget, I’m sure.’
‘Well, that will not be for a few days yet. You have both come a long way, and I would like you to relax and enjoy the hospitality of my palace first. The journey here was not too arduous for you?’
‘Thanks to your kindness and generosity we travelled first class, Your Highness. I’ve never travelled in such luxury before. The trouble is, given the opportunity I’m afraid I could get used to it!’ Jake answered, smiling.
‘You have spent many weeks researching the jewel’s history and provenance on my behalf, and you have travelled far to tell me what you have found. To make sure that you journeyed in comfort was the least I could do.’
‘Once again, we thank you,’ Gina said quietly.
A wave of heat submerged her when Zahir didn’t seem to want to break his gaze from hers. How was she supposed to bear this? she wondered. How was she supposed to endure being so close to him when his high rank prohibited any possibility that they could enjoy a relationship again, even if they both desired it?
‘Drink your coffee and take some refreshment, both of you. We will have plenty of time for our first discussion on the matter of the jewel tomorrow, after breakfast.’
When he turned his glance towards Gina again, Zahir’s expression was hard to read. A wall had definitely descended, she intuited—a wall that had clearly been erected to prevent her from seeing too much.
‘However, I am afraid I will not be able to join you for dinner tonight. There is a personal matter that takes me away from the palace for a while. I will direct Jamal to show you to the dining room when it’s time, and also show you where to go for breakfast in the morning.’
She soaked in the deep Arabian bath, and scented herself with the exotic oils supplied. A long, lazy bath was a pleasure Gina didn’t allow herself very often. Where had she learned the idea that she must earn the right to personal pleasure? That work must come first? Thinking of her parents, she didn’t need to search hard for an answer. But blaming them wasn’t to be considered—not when the way she wanted to live was in her own hands now.
Sighing, she realised that she’d lingered in the warm scented water a little too long. The water had started to chill and goosebumps dotted her slim upper arms. She stepped out onto the marble-tiled surround to dry herself with a luxurious bathtowel that could have gone round her slim frame twice. Dinner earlier had been impossible. All she’d been able to do was watch Jake tuck into the feast that had been prepared for them with gusto. How could she eat when her stomach kept on roiling and lurching