Awakened by Her Desert Captor by Abby Green Page A

feel her skin prickling uncomfortably under the sun, and the roof of the buggy offered scant protection.
    She gulped and, absurdly, tears pricked her eyes. Arkim Al-Sahid had driven her to this desperate measure. She wished she’d never laid eyes on the man. She wished he’d never kissed—
    Something caught at her peripheral vision and she looked. For a second she wondered if she was seeing things, and then as the image became more distinct her eyes widened.
    It was a man on top of a horse... Except this looked like no ordinary horse. It was a huge black stallion. And the man...
    Sylvie felt as if she might have slipped back a few centuries. At first she thought it must be one of Arkim’s staff, because he was dressed in white robes, with a keffiyeh around his head. His face was obscured by the material, leaving only his eyes and dark skin visible. And was that a jewelled dagger stuck into the roped belt around his waist?
    He drew up alongside her, the horse rearing up, making Sylvie back away skittishly. Even now—even though her accelerated pulse told her otherwise—she was hoping she was mistaken.
    But the man who jumped off the horse had such grace and innate athleticism that her mouth dried.
    He tied the horse to the buggy and then stalked towards her, growing bigger and taller as he did so. Right up until the moment that he ripped aside the material covering his mouth and face Sylvie was still hoping it was anyone but... him . Of course he’d found her. This man seemed to have a heat-seeking radar, able to pin her to the spot no matter where she was.
    â€˜You damned little fool. What the hell did you hope to achieve by this stunt?’
    She tried to ignore how Arkim’s almost savage appearance made her feel as if she was losing it completely. He looked even more ridiculously handsome against this unforgiving backdrop.
    She shouted back. ‘I was trying to get away from you , in case it wasn’t completely obvious.’
    Arkim’s eyes glittered like obsidian. ‘In a golf buggy? With none of your things?’ He was scathing. ‘Did you really think you could just bounce merrily across hundreds of miles of desert and roll into the nearest petrol station to refuel?’
    Humiliated beyond measure, Sylvie launched herself at Arkim, hands balled into fists and beating against his chest.
    He caught her arms easily and held her immobile. Tension crackled between them, and for a heart-stopping moment Sylvie thought he was going to kiss her—but then a piercing sound shattered the air and they both looked up to see two Jeeps coming towards them over the top of the dune, horns blasting.
    Sylvie felt so jittery all she wanted was to escape back to the castle as quickly as possible and lock herself in her rooms. She was caught between a rock and a hard place. Literally. The thought didn’t amuse her.
    The Jeeps pulled up and concerned-looking staff spilled out. Sylvie immediately felt guilty for having precipitated this search.
    Arkim wordlessly led her over to the nearest vehicle and said a few words to the driver. Then he opened up the back door for her. When she would have expected to get in, he handed her a bottle of water. She looked at him and he was grim.
    â€˜Drink, you’ll be dehydrated.’
    Sylvie couldn’t argue with that, and she was thirsty, so she took several large gulps. Then Arkim reached into the back of the Jeep again and pulled out a long white robe. He thrust it at her.
    â€˜I’m supposed to put this on?’ Sylvie said waspishly.
    Arkim’s expression darkened. ‘Yes. You’re already burning.’
    Her skin was still prickling, but Sylvie was afraid that it was more to do with his effect on her than the sun—even though when she looked her arms were ominously pink.
    Mutinously she pulled on the long-sleeved robe, and was surprised at how much cooler she felt instantly—which was crazy when she was pulling on