His belongings further proof he’d been there.
‘I couldn’t be sure. Besides, I’ve been alone so long I’m used to looking out for myself.’
‘You’ve had a traumatic experience.’
Cassie nodded. She hadn’t been talking about just that, but there was no point revealing her isolation had taken a lifetime to grow.
‘When I didn’t see anyone all day I—’
‘No one?’ Amir scowled. ‘What about servants bringing food and water?’
Cassie shook her head and watched as the lines bracketing his mouth grew deep and fire lit his eyes.
‘Go on.’ His voice was grim.
‘There’s nothing more to say. At first it was OK. I felt safe and … comfortable.’ Even though she’d chafed at the inaction, waiting for his return when all she wanted was to get away.
‘Then, as evening drew in, I started to worry.’ She looked away from his sharp scrutiny. No need to tell him she’d thought he’d decided to leave her to her fate. ‘I wondered if something had happened to you.’
‘And about what would happen to you if it had?’
Quickly she nodded, not wanting to think about it, remembering the savage blows that had rained down on her. She drew a deep breath and shifted to ease the aches in her back and side. ‘Finally I gave up waiting. I took your knife and tried to slip out the back of the tent.’
If only she’d done as he’d said—trusted in his word to protect her and stayed where she was. She’d tried. She really had. But as the hours had ticked by it had become increasingly difficult to believe he would return. To believe she could trust him.
‘I don’t like to think what would have happened if you hadn’t rescued me.’
‘You are my responsibility.’ His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was no mistaking its grim edge. Amir wasn’t happy about this situation either.
‘I’m.’ Cassie shut her mouth before she could blurt out that she was no one’s responsibility. She looked after herself! But in her current situation independence was an illusion, possible only with the concurrence of this man. The knowledge ate at her like acid.
Stoically she repressed a shiver.
‘You’re cold.’ He took a step forward, then halted. Cassiewas glad of his distance. This man could crowd her with just a look.
‘Your dagger!’ She started, suddenly remembering the knife she’d dropped as she’d wriggled from under the tent. ‘We’ll look for it later.’
‘No!’ She couldn’t have that on her conscience.
In the darkened room last night she’d noticed nothing but the fact he’d trusted her with a blade against his bare skin. That he’d given her the means to protect herself. But today she’d examined the knife and been stunned to discover what looked like an antique heirloom.
The scabbard was encrusted with rubies cut in old-fashioned cabochon style. The blade, wickedly sharp, bore a flourish of exquisite calligraphy near the hilt. The handle was a work of art: an emerald the size of an egg embedded in precious metal.
The thing was probably a national treasure!
Cassie shot to her feet, then paused, a hand going to her lower back as pain slammed through her. That guard had pulled no punches.
‘Cassie?’
She forced a taut smile as she turned towards the edge of the tent. ‘I’m just a bit stiff.’ ‘Are you always this stubborn?’
‘Always.’ What he called stubborn she called getting on with life.
She sensed him just behind her as she searched for the place where she’d wriggled out of the tent. The heat of his big frame so close to her should have disturbed and intimidated after the events of the past few days. Yet strangely she found his nearness comforting. As if nothing could harm her while he was there.
Nonsense! It was absurd wishful thinking. Dangerous thinking.
Yet as she crouched down and investigated the layers ofcarpet at the place she’d escaped Cassie found herself grateful for his reassuring presence.
‘There.’ A long arm reached round her and
‘I couldn’t be sure. Besides, I’ve been alone so long I’m used to looking out for myself.’
‘You’ve had a traumatic experience.’
Cassie nodded. She hadn’t been talking about just that, but there was no point revealing her isolation had taken a lifetime to grow.
‘When I didn’t see anyone all day I—’
‘No one?’ Amir scowled. ‘What about servants bringing food and water?’
Cassie shook her head and watched as the lines bracketing his mouth grew deep and fire lit his eyes.
‘Go on.’ His voice was grim.
‘There’s nothing more to say. At first it was OK. I felt safe and … comfortable.’ Even though she’d chafed at the inaction, waiting for his return when all she wanted was to get away.
‘Then, as evening drew in, I started to worry.’ She looked away from his sharp scrutiny. No need to tell him she’d thought he’d decided to leave her to her fate. ‘I wondered if something had happened to you.’
‘And about what would happen to you if it had?’
Quickly she nodded, not wanting to think about it, remembering the savage blows that had rained down on her. She drew a deep breath and shifted to ease the aches in her back and side. ‘Finally I gave up waiting. I took your knife and tried to slip out the back of the tent.’
If only she’d done as he’d said—trusted in his word to protect her and stayed where she was. She’d tried. She really had. But as the hours had ticked by it had become increasingly difficult to believe he would return. To believe she could trust him.
‘I don’t like to think what would have happened if you hadn’t rescued me.’
‘You are my responsibility.’ His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was no mistaking its grim edge. Amir wasn’t happy about this situation either.
‘I’m.’ Cassie shut her mouth before she could blurt out that she was no one’s responsibility. She looked after herself! But in her current situation independence was an illusion, possible only with the concurrence of this man. The knowledge ate at her like acid.
Stoically she repressed a shiver.
‘You’re cold.’ He took a step forward, then halted. Cassiewas glad of his distance. This man could crowd her with just a look.
‘Your dagger!’ She started, suddenly remembering the knife she’d dropped as she’d wriggled from under the tent. ‘We’ll look for it later.’
‘No!’ She couldn’t have that on her conscience.
In the darkened room last night she’d noticed nothing but the fact he’d trusted her with a blade against his bare skin. That he’d given her the means to protect herself. But today she’d examined the knife and been stunned to discover what looked like an antique heirloom.
The scabbard was encrusted with rubies cut in old-fashioned cabochon style. The blade, wickedly sharp, bore a flourish of exquisite calligraphy near the hilt. The handle was a work of art: an emerald the size of an egg embedded in precious metal.
The thing was probably a national treasure!
Cassie shot to her feet, then paused, a hand going to her lower back as pain slammed through her. That guard had pulled no punches.
‘Cassie?’
She forced a taut smile as she turned towards the edge of the tent. ‘I’m just a bit stiff.’ ‘Are you always this stubborn?’
‘Always.’ What he called stubborn she called getting on with life.
She sensed him just behind her as she searched for the place where she’d wriggled out of the tent. The heat of his big frame so close to her should have disturbed and intimidated after the events of the past few days. Yet strangely she found his nearness comforting. As if nothing could harm her while he was there.
Nonsense! It was absurd wishful thinking. Dangerous thinking.
Yet as she crouched down and investigated the layers ofcarpet at the place she’d escaped Cassie found herself grateful for his reassuring presence.
‘There.’ A long arm reached round her and
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