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The Sheikh Who Married Her: One Desert Night / Strangers in the Desert / Desert Doctor, Secret Sheikh. Maggie CoxЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Sheikh Who Married Her: One Desert Night / Strangers in the Desert / Desert Doctor, Secret Sheikh - Maggie  Cox


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I stay?’ His sister had tears in her eyes.

      ‘Of course.’ He didn’t apologise for his clipped-sounding tone. His whole being was focused on one thing and one thing only … Gina.

      As he turned back the doctor was cradling her head and moving a bottle of smelling salts back and forth beneath her nose. Her eyelids quivered then opened thankfully wide to reveal dazzling blue irises.

      ‘What happened?’

      ‘You fainted, my dear.’

      The physician’s avuncular tone surprised Zahir. The only person he had addressed quite as kindly before was his sister Farida.

      ‘It can happen sometimes after a bad shock.’

      ‘I’ve never fainted before.’

      ‘There is a first time for everything, and it is nothing to worry about.’

      The man smiled again, and Zahir was almost jealous that he was the one to comfort and reassure Gina. But then her worried glance collided with his, and this time he made sure it was his smile she was the recipient of.

      Cupping her cold hand, he lightly stroked it. ‘You frightened me,’ he said simply.

      Pursing her lips, she didn’t attempt to speak, but he sensed her hand curl deliberately into his palm and his heart leapt.

      ‘Now, I am afraid that you will have to leave us for a while, Your Highness … I need to properly examine Dr Collins.’ The physician was opening his medical bag. Peering over the rims of his spectacles, he looked straight at Farida across Zahir’s shoulder. ‘You may stay and assist me, Your Highness.’

      Outside in the silent corridor, Zahir crossed his arms over his chest and paced, grim-faced. A wind was getting up outside. Through the apertures in the narrow windows, it disturbed the glass and brass lanterns hanging from the ceiling and made them tinkle like windchimes.

      After what seemed like an interminable period, Farida opened the door. Her smooth forehead was disturbed by a somewhat sad frown. ‘Dr Saffar says you may come back in now.’

      ‘Is she hurt?’ he demanded.

      His sister’s frown deepened. ‘She has some bad bruising either side of her neck and on her collarbone, but the doctor has given me some salve I may apply to help soothe the soreness. I don’t think she registered she was hurt at the time … it was more the psychological shock that affected her. But, Zahir …’

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘I think whoever did this may have mistaken Gina for me. We were both sitting with our backs to the refreshment stall—we are of similar size, and she was wearing one of my dresses and a hijab. We were with Hafiz, who had the palace insignia on his tunic, and I am known in Kabuyadir and she is not. What reason would the rebels have for taking her?

      ‘None that I can immediately think of.’ He fisted his hands and swore. Rubbing at his temples, he stared at the woman in front of him. ‘It sounds to me like this was a totally opportunist act—not one that was orchestrated. Else why did the assailant act alone in the middle of a crowded marketplace? No … He must have seen Hafiz with the two of you, noted the palace insignia on his tunic and aimed to ingratiate himself with his leader by trying to kidnap you to get at me. The idea of someone abducting you sends a shudder though my soul, but I am equally furious that they hurt Gina—who is, after all, an innocent bystander.’ The wheels of Zahir’s mind were rapidly spinning with thoughts of what to do next.

      ‘She will make a good recovery I am sure, brother. She is strong, and today I have seen for myself she’s a fighter

      Even though he privately concurred with his sister’s summation, it didn’t prevent his insides from twisting agonisingly at the thought of that uncouth rebel half strangling her. As sure as Allah’s will reigned supreme he and his leader would pay and pay dearly. And so would anybody associated with them. This time Zahir would neither be in the mood nor the market for reasoning—in any shape or form.

      ‘Your Highness, the captain of the security forces is downstairs, waiting for an audience with you.’ As he walked hurriedly towards them, from the other end of the lofty corridor, Jamal’s usually calm demeanour was a little flustered.

      ‘Tell him I will be with him shortly.’ Giving his servant the barest glance as he snapped out the instruction, he gestured to his sister to precede him back into Gina’s room. ‘First I must ascertain for myself how Dr Collins fares.’

      Zahir had said little to Gina when he’d returned to see her after her examination. How could he when they’d had an audience of his sister and Dr Saffar? But his eyes—those deep, dark, silken orbs—had spoken volumes as they’d studied her. In turn she had felt as if she was developing an incurable fever—a fever that no medicine could cure because the only cure for her malady was him.

      He’d indicated that he was going crazy, not being able to be alone with her, and she echoed the feeling with every fibre of her being. Even more so now, after she’d been grabbed by that madman in the marketplace! Now she wanted to grab onto Zahir—to have him exhibit his passion in the most uninhibited feral way—so that she could convince herself she’d survived that attack—still lived, still breathed—and that someone cared, truly cared, that she had.

      In a deeply luxurious armchair in a corner of the room Farida sat silently, absorbed in some intricate-looking embroidery. At any other time the simple, peaceful movements of needle and thread going in and out of the gold and white silk runner she was sewing would have lulled Gina into relaxing.

      Sensing her glance from where she lay, resting on the bed, the other girl lifted her pretty mouth in a smile. ‘Are you okay? Do you need anything?’

      Gina shook her head, with the barest of smiles back. It was such a loaded question. What else could she do when what she needed most of all was Zahir? ‘I feel ridiculously pampered and spoiled, lying in bed like this, so—no … there’s nothing I need right now, Farida … thank you.’

      ‘You must be the most undemanding patient in the world, Gina. After what you suffered this afternoon you could ask for anything and Zahir and I would try to get it for you.’

      ‘Talking of your brother—His Highness—will he join us for dinner tonight?’

      ‘I’m afraid not, Gina. He has some important business to attend to. He left in a bit of a hurry with the captain of the security forces and told me he didn’t know when he would be back. In the meantime he left strict instructions that you were not to lift so much as a finger. Dr Saffar suggested you should have a tray brought up to your room rather than endure a more formal dinner, and I agree with him. We all want to make sure you are fully recovered from your ordeal before even the slightest demands are made of you.’

      Swallowing down her crushing disappointment that she wouldn’t see Zahir for the entire evening, Gina drew her knees up beneath the counterpane, then wrapped her arms round them. ‘And what about Dr Rivers? Did anybody tell him what happened?’

      ‘Yes, he was told. He was very shocked. He told Jamal to tell you that he would see you when you felt more recovered.’

      She grimaced at that. It was typical of Jake not to disturb himself with hearing the details of what had happened to her, and also not to want to see her in case she was distressed. He wasn’t the kind of man who could cope with any kind of display of female emotion. But in a way Gina was relieved. Spending time with her colleague when she was fit and well was taxing enough, never mind when she wasn’t …

      In the light of the single brass lamp beside the bed Gina drifted off to sleep after another meal she had barely touched. In the far distance the strains of some haunting melody played on an oud reached her ears. Eventually it lulled her to sleep. But the dreams that visited her were not the kind of dreams that ensured her rest was peaceful.

      When the memory of a cruel strong arm round her neck replayed


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