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‘The storm has passed! It will be good weather for your trip with the Sheikh.’
‘My trip...?’ Sylvie said quietly, assuming Halima meant her trip home.
The other girl chattered on. ‘Yes, the oasis is so beautiful this time of year...and the way it emerges from the desert—it’s like a lush paradise.’
Sylvie frowned, confused. ‘Wait—the oasis? Arkim—I mean, the Sheikh isn’t leaving to go home today?’
Now Halima looked confused. ‘No, he is preparing for his trip and you are going with him. I am to pack enough things for a few days.’
Sylvie’s heart-rate picked up pace, along with her pulse. What was Arkim up to now?
She rushed through her breakfast and got washed, and when she re-emerged into the suite Halima was waiting with her bag packed.
Sylvie had dressed in simple cargo pants and a T-shirt. Halima took one look and tutted, saying something about more suitable clothing. Sylvie followed the girl into the dressing room, which Sylvie hadn’t explored fully yet, having been intent on using her own clothes. But now Halima was opening the wardrobe doors, and Sylvie gasped when she saw what looked like acres of beautiful fabric: dresses, trousers... All with designer labels.
‘Whose are these?’ she breathed, letting the silk of one particularly beautiful crimson dress move through her fingers. The thought of them belonging to another
woman—or women—was stinging Sylvie in a place that was not welcome.
‘They’re yours, of course. The Sheikh had them delivered especially for you before your arrival.’
Shock made Sylvie speechless for a moment, and then she said carefully, ‘Are you sure they aren’t left over from the last woman he had here?’
Halima turned and looked at her, incomprehension clear on her pretty face. ‘Another woman? But he’s never brought anyone else here.’
Sylvie knew she wasn’t lying—she was too sweet...innocent. Her heart started beating even harder. She’d assumed this exotic remote bolthole was one of Arkim’s preferred places to decamp with a mistress. She would never have guessed she was the first woman he’d brought here.
‘Here—you should change into this.’
Sylvie blinked and saw Halima holding out a long cream tunic with beautiful gold embroidery. Like a more elaborate version of the tunic Arkim had put on her when he’d found her in the desert. ‘You’re burning.’ His reprimand came back.
‘Is this a cultural thing?’ Sylvie asked Halima as she slipped out of her trousers.
‘Well, yes. Where you’re going is more rural, and conservative. But it’s also practical. It protects you from the heat and sun.’
‘Where you’re going.’ Sylvie was very aware that she had given no indication to the girl that she was not going on this trip. Was she going to just...go? Acquiesce? Her pulse tripped again at the thought, and a wave of heat seemed to infuse her skin from toe to head.
The tunic was matched with close-fitting trousers in a beautiful soft cotton material. They too were embroidered with gold. And then Halima was placing a gossamer-light matching shawl around her shoulders. Soft flat shoes completed the outfit.
Sylvie caught sight of herself in a mirror and sucked in a breath. Her hair stood out vibrantly against the light colours of the clothes. She looked...not like herself—but perversely more like herself in a way she’d never seen before.
Halima tweaked Sylvie’s shawl over her head, and then they were walking down the corridor. She felt a little like a bride being walked to face her fate.
Sylvie chastised herself for being so compliant. Of course she wanted to leave. Of course she had no intention of going off to this admittedly, intriguing-sounding oasis with a man who felt nothing for her and yet made her body come alive in a way that made her want to descend with him into a pit of fire.
She was going to tell Arkim she had no intention of—
All her thoughts faded to nothing when they rounded the corner into the main hall and Sylvie saw Arkim waiting for her.
CHAPTER SIX
HE SIMPLY TOOK her breath away. It was as if she’d never seen him before. He was so tall and exotic, in a long dark blue tunic. Still stern...
It made her yearn for things: to see him smile, unbend. To know more about him. Dangerous things.
The staff left their bags between two Jeeps and melted away into the shadows. Sylvie was aware that this was the moment when she should make it absolutely clear that she had no intention of going with Arkim to this oasis. But she was rooted to the spot—caught and mesmerised by those obsidian eyes.
There was an intense silent conversation happening between them. He was issuing a direct challenge with that fathomless gaze. A challenge that she felt in every pulsing, throbbing beat of her blood. A challenge of the most sensual kind. A challenge to step up and own her femininity in a way she’d never done before. A challenge to go with him.
