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‘Not too bad,’ she lied as she tried to shift into a more comfortable position. If only she could stand up but she wasn’t convinced her legs would hold her upright, because the walk across camp had turned them to putty again.
Leaning down, Zane touched his finger to her nose and smiled, the crinkle of his lips both strained and yet sympathetic.
‘These two will look after you. I’ve told them to feed you and then give you a long hot bath. After that they’ll give you a massage. It will be sore as hell at first, but the oils and ointments they use will make it feel much better once they’re done.’ His voice seemed to sink several octaves as he described the massage—putting her overstimulated nerve endings even more on edge. He straightened. ‘I’ll come back to get you, once you’ve had a chance to rest. We’ve been invited to join Kasim for supper. He will answer any questions you have about the Kholadis’ way of life.’
He turned to leave so abruptly she shifted to grab his sleeve. And hissed as the pain shot up her thigh. ‘Wait, Zane.’
He stopped, but the way his gaze tracked to where her fingers touched his forearm had her releasing his sleeve immediately.
‘What is it, Catherine?’ he said, the patience gone again. He was angry about something, but she had no idea what.
‘Won’t it be dark by then?’
‘I expect so. What’s your point?’ he replied.
‘Is it safe to make the return journey at night?’
As much as she didn’t want to have to get back on the horse, she really didn’t think she could get back on it in the dark. And not just because of her abused butt muscles. But because she didn’t think
she could spend another hour cocooned in Zane’s arms while the darkness increased the intimacy... Or she was liable to lose what little was left of her sanity.
Zane’s gaze remained steady on hers for two pregnant beats. ‘You’re in no condition to ride again tonight,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to stay here overnight. And return to the palace tomorrow morning.’
‘Oh...’ she said, both relieved and yet somehow more wary. Was this why he was so annoyed? Because she’d turned out to be so feeble? And why was his grudging concern making her stomach muscles melt?
‘Don’t freak out, Catherine. We won’t be sharing the same tent,’ he said, the tension snapping in his voice again.
But I wasn’t worried about that.
‘I’ll be back to get you in a couple of hours,’ he continued. ‘Get as much rest as you can.’
She nodded, then flopped back on the divan as his heavy footfalls left the tent. Now more confused and wary than ever.
Because the thought of sharing a tent with him had not bothered her at all. And it really should have. Especially as the last thing she needed right now was to ride anything else.
* * *
‘I discovered from my research that you spent your early years at the Sheikh’s palace. Why was that? And why did you leave?’ Cat asked, her curiosity about Kasim’s past getting the better of her as his servants removed the empty dishes they had been feasting on for the past two hours.
The Kholadi chief had been vocal and engaging throughout the lavish meal. She’d feared he might be as evasive as Zane, but he’d been the opposite, regaling Cat with stories of how he had come to assume the chiefdom—a series of trials by combat against the other young men in the camp after the previous chief had died without a son. She’d quizzed him about the Kholadis’ customs and culture and he’d answered every inquiry, even offering to translate any conversations she might want to have with his tribespeople.
The food had been delicious. They’d eaten with their fingers, a lavish banquet spread out on the low tables. After the soothing bath and massage, the aches and pains of the ride had been forgotten while she lounged on the bed of cushions, chatting with the Kholadi chief and devouring exquisite dishes heavily spiced with Middle Eastern flavours. The low lighting had added a spellbinding intimacy to the proceedings.
The only dark spot had been Zane, who had sat stiffly and stony-faced throughout their discussion. Cat tried to ignore him. He was obviously annoyed at having to stay overnight, but this interview was providing her with exactly the sort of information that would give her study context and authenticity. The Kholadi had been a closed community, its culture virtually unknown to the outside world. And Kasim was a fascinating and captivating host.
Even though they weren’t drinking any alcohol, she had become a bit dazed. But the minute she had asked the question about Kasim’s past at the palace, she realised her mistake.
A tense silence descended, the convivial atmosphere in the tent vanishing as Kasim’s gaze connected with Zane’s over her head.
Had she said something wrong?
‘You don’t have to answer that,’ she said, backtracking. She hadn’t meant to impose on Kasim’s hospitality. She should never have asked him such a personal question.
But then Kasim’s gaze tracked to hers, and his teeth flashed white in his dark face in the familiar charming smile. The mocking light had reappeared in his eyes. ‘Zane has not told you?’
‘Told me what?’ she asked, detecting an edge to his tone that belied the amused expression.
‘It’s not relevant to the project, Kasim,’ Zane interrupted them, his voice gruff with warning.
