Awakened by Her Desert Captor by Abby Green Read Free Book Online Page A

when they’d pushed for intimacy she’d found herself shutting down. The prospect that they’d somehow ‘see’ the real her and reject her was a fear she couldn’t shake.
    It was galling that she seemed to be hardwired to want more than casual sex—based on a fragile memory of the happiness and joy that had existed between her parents before her mother had so tragically died. She’d somehow clung to it her whole life, letting it sink deep into her unconscious.
    It was even more galling, though, that Arkim Al-Sahid could look at her with explicit intent and have the opposite effect from making her shut down. When he looked at her she felt as if something was flowering to life deep inside her.
    Irritated with the direction of her thoughts, and telling herself she was being ridiculous, Sylvie walked over to the French doors of the main bedroom and stepped outside. Heat washed over her like a dry caress, sinking into her bones and melting some of the tension away in spite of her wish to stay rigid at all costs.
    She had her own private terrace, complete with a sparkling lap pool, its turquoise tiles illuminating the water. Low seats were scattered in twos and threes around low tables, with soft raw silk cushions. Lanterns hung from the walls, but weren’t lit. Sylvie could imagine how seductive it might be at night, with only the flickering lights and the vast expanse of a star-filled night sky surrounding her.
    And then she berated herself for getting sucked into a daydream so easily. Pushing the images out of her head, she walked over to the boundary wall, with its distinctive Arabic carvings. Outside she could see nothing but desert and dunes. A bird of prey circled lazily against the intense blue of the sky.
    It compounded her sense of isolation and entrapment, and yet...much to her chagrin...Sylvie couldn’t seem to drum up any sense of urgency. She realised that she was exhausted from the shock and adrenalin of the day.
    A sound made her whirl around from the wall, her heart leaping into her throat. But it was only Halima again, with her shy smile.
    â€˜Sheikh Al-Sahid has sent me to tell you that he would be happy for you to join him in an hour for dinner. He said that should give you time to freshen up.’
    Sylvie felt grim. ‘Did he, now?’ She thought of something and said, ‘Wait here a moment—I’d like you to give him something, please.’
    When she came back she felt unaccountably lighter. She handed the girl a folded-up note and said sweetly, ‘Please give this to Sheikh Al-Sahid for me.’
    The girl scurried off and Sylvie closed the door. A wave of weariness came over her, dousing any small sense of rebellious triumph. She set about unpacking only the most necessary items from her case, having no intention of staying here beyond a night. Whatever she had to do to persuade Arkim to let her go, she’d do it.
    She was disappointed but unsurprised to see that her mobile phone didn’t work. Exactly as he’d told her. She put it down and sighed, then took off her clothes, finding a robe. When she got to the door leading into the bathroom she had to suck in a breath. The sinks and the bath seemed to be carved out of the stone itself, with gold fittings that managed to complement the stark design without being tacky.
    The bath was more like a small pool. When she’d filled it up, and added some oils she’d found in a cleverly hidden cabinet, exotically fragrant steam wrapped around her in a caress.
    She drew off the robe and took the few steps down into the bath, trying not to feel too overwhelmed by the sheer luxury. The water closed over her body and as she tipped her head back she closed her eyes and pushed all thoughts of Arkim Al-Sahid out of her mind, trying to pretend she was on a luxury mini-break and not in the middle of an unforgiving desert, cut off from civilisation with someone who hated her guts.
    * * *
    Arkim