Defiant in the Desert by Sharon Kendrick Read Free Book Online Page B

impossible for me to work alongside your new husband with you as his wife,’ he said.
    ‘I see.’
    And she did see. Or rather, she saw some of it. Sara stared at the black-haired man sitting before her, because now the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to form a more coherent shape. Suleiman had wanted her. Really wanted her. And now she was beginning to suspect that he still did. Behind the rigid pose he presented and the wall of disapproval, there still burned something . He had all but admitted it just now.
    Didn’t that explain the way his body tensed whenever she grew close? Why his dark eyes had grown stormy and opaque when he’d studied her short skirt that day in the office. It was not indifference towards her as she had first thought.
    It was Suleiman trying to hide the fact that he still wanted her.
    She licked her dry lips and saw his eyes follow the movement of her tongue, as if he was being compelled to do something against his will. Was he remembering—as she was—when his own tongue had entered her mouth and made her moan with pleasure?
    Her head was spinning; her thoughts were confused but as they began to clear she saw a possible solution to her dilemma. What if she used Suleiman’s desire for her to her own advantage? What if she tempted him beyond endurance and seduced him, what then? If they finished off what they had started all those years ago, wasn’t that a way out for her? He was a single-minded man, yes, and a determined one, but there was no way he could present her to Murat if he had been intimate with her himself.
    Could she do it? Could she? She was certainly no seductress, but how difficult could it be to beguile the only man she had ever really wanted?
    She rose to her feet. ‘Where’s the bathroom?’ she asked.
    ‘Through there,’ he said—pointing towards the door at the far end of the cabin.
    She reached up towards the rack to retrieve the bag she’d brought with her and Suleiman moved forward to help, but she shook her head with a sudden fierce show of independence. She might want him, but she didn’t need him. She didn’t need any man. Wasn’t that the whole point of her carefree life in London? That she didn’t have to be tied down and trapped. ‘I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.’
    She disappeared into the bathroom, emerging a short while later with her blonde hair brushed and woven into a neat chignon. She had changed from her jeans and sweater and replaced them with clothes more suited to the desert climate of Qurhah.
    Her slim-fitting linen trousers and long-sleeved silk shirt now covered most of her flesh, but, despite the concealing outfit, she felt curiously exposed as she walked back towards him. Her legs were unsteady and her stomach was tying itself up in knots as she sat down. For a moment she couldn’t quite bring herself to meet Suleiman’s eyes, terrified that he might discover the subversive nature of her thoughts.
    ‘So what happens when we arrive?’ she questioned. ‘Will an armed guard be taking over from you? Will I be handcuffed, perhaps?’
    ‘We are landing at one of the military airbases,’ he said. ‘That way, your arrival won’t be marred by the curiosity of onlookers at Qurhah’s international airport.’
    ‘In case I make a break for freedom, you mean?’
    ‘I thought we’d discounted this rather hysterical approach of yours?’ he said. ‘And since the threat of desert storms has been brewing for days, it is considered unsafe for us to use a helicopter to get you to the Sultan’s summer residence. So it might interest you to know that we will be travelling there by traditional means.’
    At this, Sara’s head jerked up in surprise. ‘You don’t mean an old-fashioned camel caravan?’
    Suleiman smiled. ‘Indeed I do. A little-used means of desert travel nowadays, but many of the nomadic people still claim it is the most efficient.’
    ‘And who’s to say they aren’t right? Gosh, I haven’t been on one