Bella and the Merciless Sheikh by Sarah Morgan Page B

tea—’
    â€˜It is customary to drink tea with a guest and share stories and news. The Bedouin are very hospitable people. And excellent story tellers.’
    â€˜So tell me a story. But make sure it has a happy ending. No drama or misery. A few fairy princesses wouldn’t go amiss.’ She’d had more than enough drama lately to last her a lifetime. ‘Tell me about the Bedouin. They’re nomadic, aren’t they? So are you rediscovering your tribal roots?’
    â€˜The sheikh is basically the leader of the tribe.’
    â€˜All-powerful. Do people shake when they see you coming? Get it? Shake…sheikh…?’ Her voice trailed off. She grinned at him, her hands curled round the mug, eyeing the austere lines of his handsome face. ‘You don’t smile much, do you?’
    â€˜I smile when I’m amused.’
    Refusing to be daunted, Bella blew gently on her tea. ‘You need to lighten up and take life less seriously.’
    â€˜Perhaps you need to take it more seriously. Then you wouldn’t find yourself dying of heat stroke and thirst, or stranded alone in the desert with a stranger.’
    â€˜So what amuses you? You said you smile when you’reamused. So I’m wondering what makes you laugh. Obviously not my appalling sheikh jokes.’ She took another sip of tea and decided that the taste was growing on her. ‘When was the last time you collapsed with laughter? You know, laughed so hard you couldn’t speak—laughed so hard you almost cracked a rib.’
    The fire crackled and a whisper of smoke curled into the air. ‘I can’t recall ever having “collapsed with laughter” and amusement has never affected my ability to converse.’
    â€˜Don’t people ever make jokes around you?’
    â€˜Never.’
    â€˜Because you’re so intimidating, I suppose.’ Seriously worried by how ill she felt, Bella curled her legs to one side. ‘What do you do to relax, then? Parties? Do you sheikh rock and roll?’
    A muscle flickered in his lean, angular jaw. ‘You just can’t help yourself, can you?’
    â€˜No. I can’t. Sorry. I’m trying to make you laugh but I know when I’m beaten, Your Highness,’ Bella said flippantly, really disconcerted by the fact he hadn’t smiled at a single one of her jokes. Used to being the centre of attention wherever she went, she didn’t know how to react to him.
    He added something to the food bubbling in the pot. ‘Presumably you frequently collapse with laughter?’
    â€˜Quite often. Usually at awkward times. There’s something about stiff, formal occasions that makes me want to giggle. Usually at about the same moment someone is pointing a camera at me.’
    His glance was penetrating. ‘You attend many stiff, formal occasions with photographers in attendance?’
    Bella stilled. ‘Not really. Church and stuff. Family photographs.’ The annual Balfour Ball with shoals of hungry paparazzi ready to indulge in a feeding frenzy .
    Thinking of that particular event wiped the desire to laugh from her body.
    He was still watching her. ‘Is everything a joke to you?’
    â€˜No,’ Bella said flatly, staring down at her empty mug and trying not to think about the latest scandal she’d un earthed. ‘But I prefer to try and see the funny side of life whenever possible.’
    â€˜You are extremely frivolous.’
    â€˜Yeah, that’s me.’ Her voice husky, Bella kept her eyes fixed on the mug until she was sure she was in control. ‘You ought to meet my father. You’d get on really well. If you have a spare month you could compare notes on my deficiencies. So you’re from a noble family, is that right? How come you speak perfect English?’
    â€˜I went to a boarding school in England. My father understood the importance of maintaining our unique history and culture whilst