Jennifer Taylor - One More Night with Her Desert Prince...

Maybe he had wanted her, and maybe she had wanted him too, but it wouldn’t have been enough to make up for what would have happened if news of their relationship had leaked out. Sam would have been subjected to constant scrutiny by the press, her every action commented on, her family’s shortcomings discussed ad nauseam. He had seen how hurt she had been, how upset, and he had known that he couldn’t bear to see her subjected to that kind of pressure on top of everything else she would have had to contend with if they had stayed together.

He sighed. Sam would have had to give up such a lot, her independence, her career; give up being who she was , in fact, and it had been far too much to ask. Even though he spent a lot of his time working in London, Azad was his home and he always came back here. If he had brought Sam here to live, she would have had to conform to a way of life that was completely alien to her. Although changes were taking place, women in Azad still faced many restrictions. Perhaps Sam could have handled it at first even with the added strain of all the unwelcome publicity, but eventually she would have found the life too oppressive, as his mother had done.

He couldn’t have stood that, couldn’t have tolerated watching her love turn to resentment, which was why he had done what he had that night. Khalid took a deep breath as he made himself face the cold hard facts. It had been better to destroy her love for him once and for all than watch it slowly wither and die.

Sam rolled over, struggling to untangle herself from the silken folds of the sheet. Reaching out, she pulled the alarm clock closer and sighed. Three a.m. and she was still wide awake. She had tried everything she could think of, counted sheep, recited poetry, thought sleep-inducing thoughts, but nothing had worked. Her body might be exhausted but her mind wouldn’t slow down. It kept whizzing this way and that, yet always ending up at the same point: that moment six years ago when all her dreams had been shattered.

Tears filled her eyes but she blinked them away. She had done all the crying she intended to do and she wasn’t going to start again. So Khalid had changed his mind, decided that he hadn’t wanted her—so what? The world hadn’t come to an end, the heavens hadn’t fallen in and she had survived. If anything, it had made her stronger, made her value herself more. She had stopped apologising for her background, stopped feeling that she didn’t deserve to be where she was. When it had come to breaking off her engagement last year, she hadn’t hesitated. The relationship wouldn’t have worked and she had known that … as Khalid must have known that their relationship had been doomed to failure.

Sam sighed as once again her thoughts returned to Khalid. Rolling over, she tried to get comfortable. She needed to sleep or she’d be fit for nothing tomorrow or, rather, today. Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to drift, deciding it was easier than trying to steer it in any direction. Pictures flowed in and out of her mind: the desert they had flown over; the summer palace shimmering like a mirage in its lush green setting….

The sound of stealthy footsteps made her eyes fly open and she peered into the darkness. Was there someone in the room, Jess perhaps? Barely daring to breathe, she eased herself up against the pillows and felt her heart knock against her ribs when she saw the outline of a man silhouetted against the window. It hadn’t occurred to her to close the shutters and she could feel the fear rising inside her as the figure approached the bed. Grabbing the clock off the nightstand, she held it aloft, wishing she had a more substantial weapon with which to defend herself.

‘Get out or you’re going to regret it!’

‘Sam, it’s me.’

Khalid’s deep voice was the last thing she had expected to hear. The clock slid from her fingers and landed on the floor with a crash. Sam stared at him as he came closer, still not sure if he was real or a figment of her imagination.

‘Khalid?’ she whispered, her own voice sounding husky in the silence. ‘Is it really you?’

‘Yes.’

He bent so that she could see his face and her breath caught when she saw how his eyes glittered with an emotion she couldn’t interpret. When he moved closer, so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek, she almost cried out. It took every scrap of will power she could muster to lie there and not do anything, not react in any way at all. Khalid had come to her and it was up to him to tell her why.

‘I’m sorry to wake you, Sam. I know how tired you must be after the journey.’ His voice sounded softer, deeper, strumming her nerves like a violin bow, and she shuddered.

‘What do you want?’ she murmured, wishing that she sounded more certain and less unsure.

‘You.’ He suddenly smiled, his teeth gleaming whitely in the moonlight. ‘I need you , Sam.’

‘THE BABY’S BREECH. It’s too late to turn it or perform a C-section so we’ll have to deliver it vaginally.’

Sam turned to Jess and smiled. Although the young mother, Isra, couldn’t understand what they were saying, she would soon guess how serious the situation was if they showed any signs of concern. Sam could tell that the girl was terrified and it wouldn’t help if they lost her confidence at this point.

‘I’ve not delivered a breech before,’ Jess murmured, following Sam’s lead and smiling broadly. ‘I hope you have.’

‘I’ve done my share,’ Sam assured her, washing her hands in the basin of water on the dresser. There was no point stating the obvious, that the breech deliveries she’d been involved with had been carried out in the safety of a highly equipped maternity unit. They didn’t have such luxuries on tap here so they would have to manage the best way they could.

‘I need a word with Khalid,’ she told Jess, refusing to dwell on the negatives. She had delivered several breech babies and every single one of them had survived. There was no reason to think that this baby wouldn’t survive too. ‘Our biggest problem is going to be the language barrier so we’ll need an interpreter.’

‘OK. Anything you want me to do?’ Jess asked, sponging Isra’s face.

‘Not really. I’ll only be a moment,’ Sam assured her.

She left the bedroom, frowning when she discovered that there was nobody about. After Khalid had woken her, he had led her to the servants’ quarters. Isra was the wife of one of the palace cooks and she and her husband lived in the grounds. Although their house was only small, much smaller than the one she and Jess were sharing, it was spotlessly clean and tidy.

Sam peered into a kitchen, which boasted a woodburning stove, and a tiny but well-equipped bathroom as she made her way along the passageway. From what she could see, the staff were well catered for and it was good to know that they were treated with respect. She came to the sitting room, which was also small but very attractive with brightly coloured rugs on the tiled floor and heaps of cushions on the low couches. It all looked very comfortable but decidedly empty. Where was everyone?