nerve, she turned and forced herself to walk slowly towards the tent’s entrance.
She’d just got inside when she met the man she’d seen last night at Amir’s side, coming the other way. In his hands he carried the long chain Amir had taken off her.
Cassie shrank against the wall of the tent, heart hammering at the sight of it.
The man paused. ‘Don’t concern yourself, Ms Denison,’ he said in fluent English. ‘You won’t have to worry about this again. His Highness will see to it.’ Then he sketched a rapid bow and left before she could find her voice.
Ms Denison.
The title in her own language seemed incongruously formalafter a fight in the dark with a guard and the threatening crowd outside.
It reminded her of the safety she’d left behind in Australia. The foreignness of this wild place.
And her total dependence on the Sheikh of Tarakhar.
Cassie grabbed a tent pole for support as she absorbed the stunning reality of what had just happened.
Amir had done what no man ever had. He’d stood on Cassie’s side. He’d done more, literally fighting her battle for her.
The memory of him putting her behind him and facing down that threatening mob made something twist inside.
The men she’d known hadn’t been models of virtue. They’d been self-absorbed and anything but honourable. As a result she’d learned self-reliance and distrust young. Cassie never let any man close enough to find out if he had an honourable streak. She no longer believed such a man existed.
It worried her to discover how much she wanted to believe Amir was such a man. He’d come back for her, protected her, putting himself in danger in the process. He’d won her gratitude and respect.
But the hard lessons of youth couldn’t be ignored. Would he expect recompense for his protection? Her mouth twisted at the thought, and she knew a twinge of unfamiliar regret that suspicion was so ingrained.
‘Cassie?’ Amir’s deep voice skimmed like hot velvet over her body. ‘What’s wrong? Are you hurt?’ An instant later strong arms enfolded her, sweeping her up against his tall frame.
Her eyes rounded in surprise. She opened her lips to demand he put her down. But she closed them as an unfamiliar sense of wellbeing filled her.
‘I’m perfectly fine. I was just thinking.’ She told herself she wanted to stand on her own feet despite feeling battered and bruised. Yet his embrace was insidiously comforting. Something she could get too accustomed to.
She needn’t have worried. He sat her on the edge of the wide bed and stepped back, well out of arm’s length.
Out of sensibility for her situation? The possibility was intriguingly novel. The bud of warmth inside her swelled.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, forcing herself to sit straight despite new aches.
‘Are you hurt?’
‘No.’ She lifted her head, meeting a dark gaze that seemed to bore right through her attempt to gloss over her injuries. ‘I’m OK.’
Amir’s brows arched eloquently, as if he knew just how much pain she’d borne, but he said nothing.
‘How about you? Are you injured?’ She hadn’t seen exactly how he’d taken down the guard.
His mouth turned up at one corner in a lazy smile that tugged something in her chest tight. ‘Never better.’
‘Good.’ She clasped her hands, unsure of the expression in those dark eyes. As an actress she prided herself on her knowledge of body language, but this man was so hard to read!
‘Thank you for coming to my rescue.’ The words emerged primly, as if she thanked him for a trifling favour, when they both knew that without his intervention she’d have been—
‘I told you I’d look after you. Why didn’t you believe me?’
Cassie spread her hands. No point saying she’d learnt never to take anyone’s promises at face value.
When she’d woken, rested and unharmed in that massive, empty bed, she’d almost wondered if she’d dreamed Amir’s presence. But his dagger in her fist had been real.
She’d just got inside when she met the man she’d seen last night at Amir’s side, coming the other way. In his hands he carried the long chain Amir had taken off her.
Cassie shrank against the wall of the tent, heart hammering at the sight of it.
The man paused. ‘Don’t concern yourself, Ms Denison,’ he said in fluent English. ‘You won’t have to worry about this again. His Highness will see to it.’ Then he sketched a rapid bow and left before she could find her voice.
Ms Denison.
The title in her own language seemed incongruously formalafter a fight in the dark with a guard and the threatening crowd outside.
It reminded her of the safety she’d left behind in Australia. The foreignness of this wild place.
And her total dependence on the Sheikh of Tarakhar.
Cassie grabbed a tent pole for support as she absorbed the stunning reality of what had just happened.
Amir had done what no man ever had. He’d stood on Cassie’s side. He’d done more, literally fighting her battle for her.
The memory of him putting her behind him and facing down that threatening mob made something twist inside.
The men she’d known hadn’t been models of virtue. They’d been self-absorbed and anything but honourable. As a result she’d learned self-reliance and distrust young. Cassie never let any man close enough to find out if he had an honourable streak. She no longer believed such a man existed.
It worried her to discover how much she wanted to believe Amir was such a man. He’d come back for her, protected her, putting himself in danger in the process. He’d won her gratitude and respect.
But the hard lessons of youth couldn’t be ignored. Would he expect recompense for his protection? Her mouth twisted at the thought, and she knew a twinge of unfamiliar regret that suspicion was so ingrained.
‘Cassie?’ Amir’s deep voice skimmed like hot velvet over her body. ‘What’s wrong? Are you hurt?’ An instant later strong arms enfolded her, sweeping her up against his tall frame.
Her eyes rounded in surprise. She opened her lips to demand he put her down. But she closed them as an unfamiliar sense of wellbeing filled her.
‘I’m perfectly fine. I was just thinking.’ She told herself she wanted to stand on her own feet despite feeling battered and bruised. Yet his embrace was insidiously comforting. Something she could get too accustomed to.
She needn’t have worried. He sat her on the edge of the wide bed and stepped back, well out of arm’s length.
Out of sensibility for her situation? The possibility was intriguingly novel. The bud of warmth inside her swelled.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, forcing herself to sit straight despite new aches.
‘Are you hurt?’
‘No.’ She lifted her head, meeting a dark gaze that seemed to bore right through her attempt to gloss over her injuries. ‘I’m OK.’
Amir’s brows arched eloquently, as if he knew just how much pain she’d borne, but he said nothing.
‘How about you? Are you injured?’ She hadn’t seen exactly how he’d taken down the guard.
His mouth turned up at one corner in a lazy smile that tugged something in her chest tight. ‘Never better.’
‘Good.’ She clasped her hands, unsure of the expression in those dark eyes. As an actress she prided herself on her knowledge of body language, but this man was so hard to read!
‘Thank you for coming to my rescue.’ The words emerged primly, as if she thanked him for a trifling favour, when they both knew that without his intervention she’d have been—
‘I told you I’d look after you. Why didn’t you believe me?’
Cassie spread her hands. No point saying she’d learnt never to take anyone’s promises at face value.
When she’d woken, rested and unharmed in that massive, empty bed, she’d almost wondered if she’d dreamed Amir’s presence. But his dagger in her fist had been real.
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