Midnight in the Desert. Jane Porter

that he was bone-deep bossy in the same unalterable way that holly leaves were prickly, Ruby ignored the stricture and left off her tee. She knotted the sarong just above her bra and began to comb out her damp hair, her attention quite naturally straying to his sleek powerful physique as he stood in the water that had covered her to the waist. His torso was a streamlined wall of muscle, his bulging upper arms, narrow hips and long thighs whipcord taut with lean tensile strength. As he splashed water up over his magnificent body, droplets glistening like diamonds in the bright light, she noticed the revealing fit of his boxer shorts which clearly defined his manhood. Feeling like a voyeur invading his privacy, she quickly looked away but she was shocked.

      Was the presence of her only minimally clad body responsible for putting him in that condition? Her face stung with mortified red at the suspicion. What else was she supposed to think? She might not be irresistible as he had quipped the night before but she evidently did have what it took to awaken the most basic chemistry of all. It also occurred to her that she really had not realised until now that an aroused male would be quite so … large in that department.

      A heavy ache stirred low within her own body and she was taken aback by the recognition that seeing Raja aroused, and knowing that her body was responsible for that development, excited her. And it was the first time ever that a man had had that astounding effect on Ruby. Indeed as a rule she felt uneasy and apprehensive when boyfriends became too enthusiastic in her arms. But then Ruby had never been comfortable with either her body or her own sexuality. How could she have been? During the years that had seen her steadily transform from child to young woman she had been forced to live with her stepfather’s obscene comments and the lecherous looks he had constantly aimed at her developing body. While being careful to ensure that her mother neither heard nor saw anything amiss, Curtis Sommerton had taught his stepdaughter to be ashamed of her femininity. His barely concealed lust had made Ruby feel soiled. Although he had never managed to unleash that lust on her, he had taught her an aversion to the male body and the kind of crude sexist comments that some men found amusing.

      The prince draped the damp towel carefully round Ruby’s bare shoulders. ‘Your skin is very fair. Sit in the shadows while I finish here.’

      And because Ruby was getting too hot under the sun and her confusing thoughts preoccupied her she did as she was told in most un-Ruby-like silence. She watched him peer into the tiny compact mirror she had produced for his use and shave and then clean those perfect, even white teeth. Her curiosity about him on a personal level was leapfrogging up the scale at an embarrassing rate. Had she had access to the Internet she would have been searching out information about his social life. He had to have one. As much of a pin-up as a movie star, rich as sin and obviously possessed of a healthy male libido, Raja al-Somari had to have women in his life. Did he enjoy discreet affairs? He would have to be discreet because Najar was a conservative country just like Ashur. Did he seek out lovers only when he was abroad? Or did he have a lover stashed away somewhere more convenient? The intimate aspect of her thoughts mortified her. What was it to her, for goodness’ sake? Even if he had a constant procession of women eager to provide him with an outlet for his sexual needs, it was none of her business!

      Having replaced the long tunic, his black hair curling back damply from his brow, Raja approached her. ‘We should eat now.’

      He showed her the ancient refrigerator operating off a car battery in the back of the tent.

      ‘You understand this way of life,’ Ruby remarked.

      ‘When I was a child my father often sent me to stay with my uncle in the desert. He is the ruling sheikh of a nomadic tribe,’ he explained. ‘But in Najar there are few true nomads left now. The bedu have settled so that their children can attend school and they have easier access to jobs and medical facilities. But the nomadic way of life is still quite popular in Ashur.’

      There was only fruit, some vegetables, meat and bread in the refrigerator and several tins of indistinguishable supplies. ‘I assume we’re not expected to be here for very long,’ Raja commented, handing her a cup of coffee.

      Ruby frowned up at what looked like a red flag rippling on top of the cliff. ‘What’s that up there?’

      ‘A blanket I tied to a stick. It will be easily visible from the air and unusual enough to attract attention—’

      ‘You climbed up there?’ Ruby exclaimed, aghast, for the cliff rose to a pinnacle of almost vertical rock.

      ‘It was not so difficult.’ Raja shrugged a broad shoulder that dismissed the risk involved in so dangerous a climb. ‘I went up to take advantage of the view and see if there was any sign of human habitation but there is nothing within sight.’

      ‘Obviously this particular place was chosen because it was isolated,’ Ruby said wryly. ‘At least I don’t have any family to worry about me—what about you?’

      ‘A father, a younger brother and two sisters and a whole host of other relatives. But I’m most worried about my father. He is not strong. The stress my disappearance will cause will endanger his health,’ he proffered, his wide sensual mouth compressing, his handsome features taut with concern. ‘But there is nothing I can do about it.’

      Her generous heart was troubled by his apprehension. ‘I have no relatives in Ashur, have I?’

      ‘None close that I’m aware of. Distant cousins, certainly.’

      His ability to efficiently feed them both set Ruby’s teeth on edge. He could cook on an open fire with very limited ingredients and produce an edible meal while she would have been challenged to do so even in a modern kitchen. Her mother had been a poor cook and Ruby’s own repertoire was limited to the making or heating of simple snacks. While she lived with Stella, a very competent cook, her lack in that field had not seemed important but somehow in Raja’s presence it annoyed the hell out of her.

      Feeling helpless stung Ruby’s strong pride. She hated feeling reliant on Raja and was painfully conscious that to date she had proved more of a burden than a help. That sense of inadequacy drove her into ceaseless activity that afternoon. She tidied up her clothes, ashamed of the fact she had left the garments lying in a tumbled heap beside her suitcase. She folded the quilts, shook the sand off the mats and took care of the few dishes and then she wandered round the grove of date palms busily gathering twigs and dried foliage to keep the fire going. The heat sapped her energy fast and she was filled with dismay at the prospect of what the much higher summer temperatures had to be like to live with. Her hair sticking to the back of her neck, she headed up to the pool to cool off again. The cold water felt glorious. Wrapped in the sarong, she sat down wearily on a rock in the deep shade to knot her hair and hold it off her perspiring face, wishing she had something to tie it back with. She looked across the pool to see her desert prince approaching, all six feet plus of his leanly muscled commanding figure pure poetry in motion, and she pursed her lips.

      There he was drop-dead gorgeous and rich and he could cook, as well. She marvelled that he had stayed single so long. Of course that authoritarian streak might be a problem for some. He knew best … always. Her shoulders were pink and slightly burned as he had warned before lunch and she wasn’t one bit grateful that his forecast had come true but she knew that she ought to be grateful that he was so well able to cope when she was not. He was also equally keen to protect her from her own mistakes.

      ‘Watch out for—’

      Ruby lifted her hands in a sudden silencing motion, brown eyes lightening with temper. ‘Just let it go, Raja. I’ll take my chances against whatever it is! You’re just about perfect and you know everything and you could probably live out here all year but I’m afraid I’m not cut from the same cloth.’

      ‘The desert is home to my people and yours,’ the prince contradicted in a tone of reproof. ‘We design and maintain beautiful gardens and parks in Najar but when our people want to get back to basics they come out into the desert.’

      Ruby snatched in a sustaining breath and she kicked a rock with a sneaker-clad foot to expel her extreme irritation.

      ‘Ruby!’