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Iseult all but rolled her eyes. None of the men trying out the other horses was wearing a hat. But remembering his wife’s accident kept her quiet and suddenly subdued. In an instant Jamal returned and handed Iseult a hard hat. She slapped it on her head and tied it securely, and gave Nadim a look that had his eyes flashing dangerously.
Iseult took a box over to where the horse stood and, using it to gain height, vaulted easily onto its back. He was skittish, but soon calmed down, and she could feel the sleek power of his muscles move beneath her as she made him go into a light trot.
Nadim watched Iseult ride the stallion, and was aware of every other man watching her too. A hush had fallen over the crowd. He’d never seen someone ride a horse with such ease and effortless grace. Her long hair trailed down her back from under the hat like a living flame of colour. And the line of her back was as straight as a dancer’s. Her whole carriage was that of a regal queen, and he was reminded of that first moment he’d seen her on Devil’s Kiss in Ireland. One hand rested nonchalantly on her thigh, the other on the horses’s reins.
She was his. The assertion ran through him, stunning him with its force. He could see that she was about to come to a halt, and had a moment of premonition before he realised that a horse race was about to start in the distance. Suddenly the loud crack of a starter pistol rent the air.
All Iseult knew was that she was about to dismount when a huge burst of sound made the horse rear into the air. With nothing but flimsy reins to hold onto she was thrown off like a rag doll. Landing on her back, she felt the wind knocked out of her, and she struggled to regain breath. Just in that instant a huge dark shape appeared, and she felt the hat being gently pulled off her head. Then hands were everywhere—probing her head, neck, shoulders and ribs with an expert touch.
She wanted to smack the hands away, but she was too weak and they were too insistent. Finally she managed to take in a big sucking breath of air. She struggled to sit up, but big hands kept her down. Suddenly the aches and pains she could feel starting to register were nothing compared to the fact that Nadim loomed above her, with his hands all over her.
Finally she managed to knock away his hands, protesting breathlessly, ‘I’m fine. I’ve been thrown a million times before.’
Nadim was livid. Iseult could see that. ‘Yes, but not on ground like this. It could break your back.’
She struggled to sit up, and Nadim helped her. Iseult looked into his grim face. His hands were still on her arms. Guilt flooded her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said immediately, thinking of his wife.
Her expressive face must have given her away, because Nadim said grimly, ‘This is completely different.’
Remorse flooded Iseult as she tried to stand awkwardly. Of course it was. Even if he hadn’t loved his wife, he must have had great affection for her. Not to mention his unborn child. And she…she was nothing to this man but an irritation he couldn’t seem to help himself from kissing when the mood took him.
This view was compounded when he lifted Iseult up into his arms before she knew what was happening, and strode out of the enclosure saying caustically, ‘I swear your middle name is trouble.’
Ridiculously, tears threatened, and Iseult had to blink rapidly to ease the burn. Her throat was clogged. She couldn’t even protest and ask to be put down, and it felt all too devastating to be held like this against Nadim’s broad and hard chest as he cut a swathe through the gawping crowd. The material of his thobe was silk and felt ridiculously flimsy. The heat from his body was making her skin tingle all over.
He brought her to his Jeep, which was nearby, and placed her in the back. Closing her door, he went around and got in the other side. Iseult tried to say something, and hated the way her voice sounded so thready. ‘You don’t have to do this. I can walk back. It’s not far from
here.’
She even put her hand on the handle of the door, and Nadim barked out, ‘Woman, will you just stay put!’ He put an arm across her belly, stopping her from getting out, and Iseult could feel emotion welling again.
She was barely breathing, begging silently for Nadim to take his arm away as the Jeep started to move. Clenching her jaw to keep the emotion down, she resolutely looked out of the window to avoid more censure.
She heard a deep sigh and his arm was gone—but only for a hand to come to her chin and turn her face to his. Iseult heard him mutter something that sounded guttural and foreign. To her utter horror and chagrin, tears flooded her eyes. Nadim cursed again and took out a handkerchief, handing it to Iseult.
She took it warily and blew her nose.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry…are you hurt?’
Iseult shook her head and blinked back the tears, swallowing. ‘No…just a bit bruised, I think. On my back.’
‘Show me…’ His voice was more gentle than she’d ever heard it, nearly undoing her again.
Iseult didn’t know what was happening until Nadim had nudged her forward on the seat so that he could pull up her T-shirt to look. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded. But he paid no heed, and his muttered words told her that she must have a few glorious bruises already blooming. Her bottom felt as if it had taken most of the impact, but the thought of him looking down there made her go hot all over.
Nadim set her back, and to her surprise he couldn’t meet her eyes. He said stiffly, ‘I should never have brought you here or let you get on that horse. I thought he looked too skittish.’
‘I’m fine—honestly. I bruise easily, so it probably looks worse than it is. It’s nothing a hot bath won’t cure. And you wouldn’t have known how skittish he was unless someone had got on his back.’
Nadim cast her a grim look. ‘Yes, but it didn’t have to be you. That’s what those boys are there for. They’re hardy and well able to handle horses like that.’
Iseult bit her tongue, knowing Nadim wouldn’t welcome a heated defence right now. The Jeep came to a stop and Iseult could see Lina hovering anxiously. Had word reached her already? She opened the Jeep door and winced when she felt her back protest. Nadim was there, and she saw his face darken ominously. He rapped out instructions to Lina and helped Iseult from the Jeep.
When she was out, he said, ‘Lina will take care of you and see to those bruises. You should rest this evening.’
And then he was handing her to Lina and stepping away abruptly. Iseult felt bereft, and wanted to protest that she’d be fine, not wanting to miss out on anything. There was an air of suppressed excitement around the camp as a group of black-clad giggling women went past, but she knew better now than to push Nadim, so just said meekly, ‘All right.’
Lina wouldn’t leave even when Iseult protested that she’d be fine. She drew her a bath, and when Iseult sank her aching body into it, it was like slipping into warm silk. Lina had added all sorts of oils, and even rose blossoms floated on the fragrant water. With her hair piled high onto her head she sank back, and had to admit that she’d never experienced something so decadently sensual.
