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"And your parents?" he found himself asking quietly, with as delicate a tone of voice as he could muster.
"What about them?" she said. There was a sadness as well as a harshness in her voice, now. Maybe she didn't want to tell him any more.
"I presume it all happened when you were young."
He heard her draw in a deep breath and let it out with a heavy sigh. "It's a long story," she said.
It sounded as if she wanted to cut this conversation short, he told himself.
He turned his attention back to his food. They were both silent again for a few minutes.
Then, she wiped her hands and stood quickly. "I think I'll take some air, if that's okay."
It was all the confirmation he'd needed. He had offended her by probing for more information. Details she probably would have preferred keeping private. He cursed himself for his foolishness.
He stood up and faced her. He nodded. "Of course. Just don't wander off," he advised.
She looked incredulously around her and smirked. "I don't think there's much chance of me wandering off," she said. "Beside, you know I don't ride a horse. Where am I going to go?"
Then she did something which made him feel a sudden tension in his middle, a instant reaction, just like the ones earlier.
Gemma placed a hand on her hip and twisted slightly to one side, showing him her curves, giving him a hint of the promise contained in them. He felt his throat tighten.
"After all, I'm kinda your prisoner, here," she announced with a mischievous tone. Her gaze fixed on him she added: "Aren't I?"
Once again he felt a throbbing sensation, hard and insistent. He wondered if she was playing with him, teasing him.
Was it merely some kind of defense against the privacy he'd breached? Was that how she had always kept the men in her life at bay? By making fun of them?
He decided to test that statement. He took a step toward her. When he spoke he made sure his voice was low and his tone deadly serious. "You're only a captive here if you choose to be," he growled. Then he gazed at her, challenge in his eyes.
She met his gaze, defiant and sure. There wasn't a flicker of doubt in her eyes as she stared back at him.
"Captive?" she whispered.
The way she said that one simple word made heat flare in him, triggered a furious quickening of his pulse. His heart was racing with sudden, urgent need. He was sure his features had flushed, sure that his mouth had curled at the corners into an appreciative smile.
Right now, he wanted to reach out and touch her. No, he wanted more than that. He wanted to crush her soft curves against his body; wanted to satisfy this instant need by crushing his lips against hers, tasting her, devouring her.
For a moment they both looked at one another, an understanding passing between them both. He saw one of her brows arch slightly.
She wanted him, but she was waiting for him to make the first move. Maybe it had something to do with what had happened last night, he reflected.
Was this the time? He drew in a breath trying to calm his raging emotion.
No. This wasn't the time. Not yet.
He turned away from her and gathered his composure. When he looked back at her, he saw she was already beginning to walk slowly away from him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Gemma knew she'd been wrong in agreeing to come here, she told herself later as she sat cross-legged on the peak of the dune and gazed out across the amazing desert landscape.
The conversation over breakfast had merely confirmed what she'd suspected. In spite of everything she'd felt last night, there was no way she was going to open herself up to sheikh Ahmed any more than she'd done already.
As far as she was concerned, he knew too much. Those probing questions about her growing up had been difficult to answer. But, she'd felt as if she should tell him something. Anything which would stop him being so curious about her.
Now he knew how hard life had been for her, maybe he'd understand her more. From the look on his face when she'd told him she wanted to be alone, she figured he might welcome the chance to keep his distance from a loser like her.
