Trish Morey - Innocent in the Desert - The Sheikh's Impatient Virgin / The Sheikh's Convenient Virgin / The Desert Lord's Bride

‘Walk? The creature was in your pocket? Or does it get its exercise biting innocent passers-by?’

Her eyes skimmed his mouth. ‘You’re not innocent, and I only put her in my pocket when she’s tired.’ Frolicking around the park with a bunch of long-legged dogs tired out the little creature. ‘And it was raining. She’s not keen on water.’

Karim’s expression showed pretty clearly what he thought of a water-hating dog. He turned to Tariq, who had again anticipated his needs.

‘Zadik will look after the animal,’ he said, indicating a younger man who appeared slightly breathless beside them.

‘Hand it over, Eva.’

Eva’s mutinous expression revealed her reluctance to comply. ‘She’s a pedigree and worth a lot. You won’t—’

‘Eat it?’ Karim snapped. He imagined a long-distance runner with the winning line in sight might feel the way he did if the endline was constantly moving.

Unable to contain his impatience another second, he took matters into his own hands in the literal sense and, reaching into her pocket, removed the ball of fluff that growled low in its throat.

He handed it to the bowing younger man. ‘Dog has been off our menus for some years now. Enough of this … come …’ He extended his hand and, after a moment’s heart-thudding hesitation, Eva put her own into it.

Her feelings when his brown fingers closed over hers were disturbingly ambiguous.

Led down the corridors that were, as promised, totally empty, she was aware of the silent presence of several robed figures all sporting earpieces like Tariq and all looking ready for anything.

They stopped outside a door that looked no different from any other they had passed, and after opening it Tariq bowed and stood to one side to allow them to enter before him.

Eva, shaking her head, pulled her hand from Karim’s.

‘I can’t get married in a duffel coat.’ Even if it was a damage-limitation exercise more than a marriage.

Karim shot her a look that brimmed with impatience. ‘Then take it off.’ The advice just stopped short of a snarl.

‘Allow me, Princess.’

Eva turned, surprised to find herself directly addressed by Tariq, who, after bowing gently, eased the heavy coat off her shoulders.

‘Thank you,’ she said uncertainly.

Inside her head a voice was saying, Run … run … but her feet were moving in the wrong direction with the help of an encouraging smile from the older man and Karim’s firm hand in the small of her back.

Clutching her flowers, Eva heard the doors close with a click of finality behind her and felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. The calm lasted throughout the brief ceremony.

It was a feeling similar to being in a dream and knowing it and relaxing because you knew that it didn’t matter what happened because you were going to wake up.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when she was standing outside in the corridor with a ring on her finger and Karim totally ignoring her while he conversed in a mixture of French and Arabic to Tariq, that she realised she wasn’t going to wake up. This was real; she was married.

She had woken from a dream and found herself in the middle of a nightmare. The calm that had supported her vaporised and icy panic slid in to fill the space it left. It clogged her throat and filled her churning stomach.

What had she done?

‘Go with Tariq.’

Eva bit her trembling lip and tilted her face to his; the man she had married looked remote and stern.

‘But … you …?’

‘I need to be with Amira.’ Mentally, Eva realized, he already was; he was looking right through her.

‘Can I do anything … help …?’

‘You?’

Eva swallowed, trying hard not to show how much the rejection hurt. Her response was, she knew, irrational, but she had no control over it.

‘I just thought …’

‘If you want to help go with Tariq. He will take care of you.’ He nodded once more in her direction and strode away.

Eva watched the tall, elegant figure until he vanished from view. She turned her head and caught an expression of sympathy on the face of the man beside her.

The idea that she was an object of pity for members of Karim’s household filled her with horror. She immediately pinned on a cheery smile.

‘So what next?’

‘I will escort you to—’

Unable to maintain the pretence of listening, Eva, her voice tense, cut across him. ‘Is she very ill?’

There was a pause before Tariq, looking uncomfortable at being directly addressed, responded, ‘Yes, she is.’

‘And he … Prince Karim … he has spent a lot of time here?’

‘He has barely left her side.’

‘And that is where he is now?’

‘The doctors have been trying some experimental treatment. They will be able to tell the Prince today if it is working.’ He stopped and looked as though he regretted revealing so much, then, bowing his head, he gestured for her to precede him. ‘If you would come this way, the Prince has asked me to—’

Eva began to move, then stopped. ‘He’s alone—I mean, there’s no family or anything with him?’

‘No, he is alone.’

Eva narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘No.’ Smiling with a confidence she was not feeling—she was not in the habit of blindly following her instinct—she turned to face the tall, forbidding figure beside her.

She might be a wife in name only, but the thought of Karim facing what could be bad news … the worst news … alone just seemed so wrong.

It was totally irrational, but she felt she should be there. He might not want a shoulder to cry on, especially hers, but she’d be someone to yell at if nothing else.

‘Sorry, Princess, I don’t quite understand …’

‘No.’

A wary light appeared in Tariq’s dark eyes.

‘The Prince has asked you to keep me out of his hair.’ She arched a brow. ‘Am I right?’

Tariq, looking nonplussed by the comment, let his arm fall back to his side. ‘The Prince is anxious that you are comfortable, that you have what you wish.’

‘I wish to see him.’ He might not want to see me.

‘I’m afraid that that will not—’

‘Look, I’m not sure what your job description covers, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t include manhandling a royal princess, and that’s the only way you’re moving me from here.’

She held her breath, not totally sure what she’d do if he called her bluff.

She thought she saw the glimmer of a smile in his eyes as he inclined his head and said, ‘This way.’

The room that Tariq showed her to was on the top floor. He spoke to the two men who stood outside and they bowed and stepped aside.

She gave them a smile as she walked past, thinking, What are you doing, Eva? The man doesn’t need you. He is more than capable of looking after himself. He’ll just think you’re interfering .

On the threshold she paused uncertainly, bracing herself for Karim’s reaction when he saw her.

He didn’t react because he didn’t see her. Her glance moved from the tiny waxy-faced figure in the bed, so slight that her arm seemed too fragile to hold all the tubes that protruded from it, to the tall man standing by the window looking blindly out at the city below.

She saw the moisture on his cheeks and empathy so acute it hurt swelled in her chest.

Her heart aching for his grief, she moved towards him, her hand outstretched. ‘I’m so sorry, Karim.’

At the sound of her voice he turned his head. ‘Eva?’

She saw then that it was not grief and pain that shone in his eyes, but joy and relief.

Her hand fell away self-consciously. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude but—’