Hidden In the Sheikh's Harem by Michelle Conder

feel...’ She shivered and turned towards him. Her eyes were huge in her face and moist from where she held tears at bay. She was afraid he realised; truly petrified. Something inside his chest pulled tight and before he could question the move he dug his fingers into her hair. She stood stock-still but he caught the small tremors of fear racing through her and the need to comfort her overwhelmed everything else.
    Smoothing her hair back from her face, he moved behind her to unwind her plait. The dark waves parted beneath his fingers and he found himself studying the lightly tanned skin of her neck. It looked smooth and supple, not unlike the body he had curved around the night before.
    Reminding himself that she was as bloodthirsty as her father, he ignored the underlying silky texture of her hair as he combed his fingers through it. Again his body responded to the fact that he was touching her, which only elevated his already soaring stress levels. He should be focused on getting home, not on saving a woman he couldn’t care less about from desert insects.
    Roughly he turned her back to face him. ‘You’re clear.’
    She stared up at him with those guileless chocolate-brown eyes and he felt a jolt go right through him. Bedroom eyes, he decided, his gaze automatically dropping to her slightly parted lips. Bedroom eyes and soft, kissable lips...
    Time seemed to stop as he imagined doing all sorts of unholy things to those lips, starting with his mouth and ending with... The hair on his forearms stood on end and it wasn’t the only thing that did.
    Hell.
    He stepped back and took himself in hand—metaphorically speaking.
    * * *
    Farah stiffened as the prince moved away and grabbed hold of Moonbeam’s halter.
    She shook off the lethargy that had invaded her limbs as soon as he had touched her, as soon as he had looked at her mouth—as if it were the ripest peach and he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into it. For a tense moment she had thought he might kiss her, and she was ashamed to admit that she had wanted him to. But how could she when he was the kind of man she had vowed to avoid? A man who walked all over others in order to further his own interests. Not to mention the reason behind the situation they were in. ‘He needs water,’ she muttered, knowing it must be true because her lips were as dry as the desert itself.
    â€˜Water and food,’ he agreed shortly. ‘But unless you can divine it from these rocks he isn’t going to get any here. Nor are we.’ He patted the stallion. ‘He’s an impressive animal. What’s his name?’
    â€˜Moonbeam.’
    The laughter that followed her announcement was both warm and strong. ‘You should have just gelded him when you named him. It would have been easier on him.’
    â€˜Oh, you’re hateful.’
    â€˜When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.’ He sobered and threaded his fingers together to form a platform. ‘Give me your foot.’
    â€˜I’m not coming with you!’ He had to be mad to suggest it, the hateful, arrogant—
    â€˜Fine.’ He straightened and vaulted onto Moonbeam as if the stallion was no bigger than a Shetland.
    Hold on.
‘What are you doing?’
    â€˜Leaving.’
    â€˜Not on my horse.’ She grabbed onto the halter. He couldn’t just leave her here without any way of getting home. ‘Damn it, why did you have to come into my life?’
    He stared down at her. ‘I’ve been asking myself the same question. Now, get on or I’ll leave you to become buzzard food.’
    Farah thought about telling him to go to hell but knew that she couldn’t. Yet. ‘This time I’m riding on the back.’ No way was she going to be made to feel small and helpless by having his arms wrapped around her again.
    â€˜I don’t care if you ride on your head. Just move it.’
    Knowing this was probably a