Читать книгу: «One More Night with Her Desert Prince...»

Table of Contents

Cover

Praise for Jennifer Taylor

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘NO! I’M SORRY, Peter, but I’m simply not prepared to take Samantha Warren along on this trip. You’ll have to find someone else.’

Prince Khalid, youngest son of the ruler of the Kingdom of Azad, glared at his old friend, Peter Thompson. He took a deep breath, struggling to moderate his tone when he saw the surprise on Peter’s face. His response had been over the top but he couldn’t help that. It might be six years since he had seen Sam Warren but the memory of their last meeting was as clear as though it had happened only the previous day.

‘How about Liv?’ he suggested, refusing to dwell on the thought. He had done what he’d had to do and there was no point regretting it. He couldn’t have taken Sam to his bed, not when he had known that it could never lead anywhere. It would have gone against everything he believed in, made a mockery of the moral code he lived by. Sam had deserved so much more than a night in his arms.

‘Liv’s gone back home to Stockholm.’

Peter shrugged, his thin face still mirroring surprise at the strength of Khalid’s outburst. Although they had been friends since Cambridge, Khalid realised that Peter had no idea what had happened between him and Sam. He had never told Peter and neither had Sam, it seemed.

It was a small sop to his feelings to discover that nobody knew what had happened that night. He still felt guilty about it, still felt that he should never have allowed things to reach that point. The problem was he had wanted to spend as much time as possible with Sam, to enjoy her company with all that it had entailed. If truth be told, he had never known a woman he had wanted as much as he had wanted Samantha Warren.

It was unsettling to admit it. Khalid forced his mind back to their current problem. ‘Phone Liv and see if she’s willing to change her plans.’

‘I doubt she’ll do that. Apparently, her mother’s ill and she’s gone home to look after her,’ Peter explained.

‘I see.’

Khalid bit down on the oath that threatened to escape as he crossed to the window. It was the middle of May and the trees in Green Park were awash with fresh new leaves. He had flown to London straight from Azad and the contrast between the barrenness of the desert he had left behind and the lushness of the view from the hotel suite seemed to overwhelm his senses. His mind was suddenly swamped by images he’d thought he had put behind him ages ago: Sam’s face smiling up at him; the way her dove-grey eyes had darkened as he had bent to kiss her …

He turned away from the view, unable to cope with thoughts like that. They needed to resolve this problem and they needed to do so soon otherwise they could forget about this venture. It had been his idea to take a team of medics into the desert. Although the Kingdom of Azad had made huge advances in the past few years and now boasted a comprehensive healthcare system that supported the needs of most of its citizens, the nomadic tribes still had little access to any proper medical facilities. TB and other such diseases were rife amongst the desert tribesmen, whilst infant mortality rates were higher than anywhere else in the world. They urgently needed help, which was why Khalid had set up this project. The thought of how much effort and planning had gone into it focused his mind as nothing else could have done.

‘There must be someone else. Come on, Peter—think!’

‘I’ve done nothing but wrack my brain ever since Abby phoned and said she couldn’t go,’ Peter told him. ‘However, the fact is that there isn’t anyone else. Or, at least, nobody experienced enough. We need a top-notch female obstetrician and there are very few willing to take a couple of months off from their careers to go with us.’

‘So, basically, what you’re saying is that it’s Sam or nobody,’ Khalid said darkly, trying to control the sudden tightening in his chest. He took a deep breath, realising that he was beaten. If Sam didn’t go along then they would have to call off the trip and it would be madness to do that, unforgivable to allow people to suffer because he couldn’t handle the thought of working with her. He shrugged, his handsome face betraying little of what he was feeling. Maybe he did feel raw inside but nobody would guess that; he’d make sure they didn’t.

‘All right. If it’s got to be Sam then I’ll have to accept it. Give her a call and tell her to meet us here tomorrow morning at eight a.m. prompt.’

‘There’s no need to do that. I’m already here.’

Khalid spun round when he recognised the cool clear voice issuing from the doorway. Just for a moment his vision blurred as the blood pounded through his veins before it suddenly cleared. He took rapid stock of the petite blonde-haired woman standing in the doorway and felt his heart sink as he was hit by a raft of emotions he had hoped never to experience again. It might be six years since he had last seen Samantha Warren but she still had the power to affect him, it seemed.

Sam fixed a smile to her lips as Peter came hurrying over to her. He kissed her on both cheeks and she responded but she was merely going through the motions. Her attention was focused on the tall dark-haired man standing by the window, not that she was surprised. From the moment she had first seen Khalid, sitting with Peter in the hospital’s crowded canteen when they had all been doing their rotations, he had commanded her attention.

She and Peter had become good friends by then and she hadn’t hesitated when he had invited her to sit with them. He had introduced her, explaining that he and Khalid had been at Cambridge together studying medicine and it was a stroke of luck that they had both ended up working at St Gabriel’s in Central London. Sam had listened to what Peter was saying but she had been aware that he could have been speaking double Dutch for all she had cared. Her attention had seemed to be wholly captured by the man sitting beside her, and it had stayed that way throughout the time she had known Khalid. When Khalid had been around, she had found it impossible to think about anything except him.

Now her eyes ran over him with lightning speed, almost as though she was afraid that if she allowed them to linger she would never be able to drag them away. He looked little changed from what she could tell, his jet-black hair as crisp as ever, his olive skin gleaming with good health. Her eyes skimmed down the powerful length of his body, taking stock of the hard, flat muscles in his chest, the trimness of his waist, the narrowness of his hips.

He was dressed as always in clothes that bore all the hallmarks of his wealth and status yet it wasn’t the clothing that made him appear so imposing: it was Khalid himself. He possessed a natural arrogance and assurance that came from his position. As the younger son of one of the richest men in the world, Khalid had no reason to doubt himself. He knew who he was, appreciated his own worth, and didn’t apologise for it either. No wonder he had rejected her that night.

The thought made her flinch and she looked away, afraid that Khalid would notice. She had thought long and hard after Peter had phoned and asked her if she would go with them. Although her initial reaction had been to refuse, Peter had been so persuasive that she had found herself agreeing to think about it. She had spent the whole week doing so, in fact. She knew that in other circumstances she would have leapt at the chance to be part of this venture. It would be good experience for her, a definite plus point to put on her CV when she applied for a consultant’s post, as she was hoping to do very shortly. However, the fact that Khalid would be going too put a very different slant on things.

How did she feel about working with him after what had happened between them? Would she be able to work with him? As the days had passed and she’d still not made up her mind, she had realised that the only way she could do so was by seeing him. If she could see Khalid and speak to him without it causing a problem then she would go along. That was why she had travelled down from Manchester that morning. Peter had told her that Khalid was staying at the Ritz so she had decided to see for herself if they would be able to get along. If they could, fine, and if they couldn’t …? Well!

‘How about some tea? Or coffee perhaps?’ Peter bustled around, opening cupboards to find the kettle. Sam could tell that he was nervous and couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Peter was a natural peacemaker. He hated discord and wanted everyone to be happy. However, in this instance it simply wasn’t possible.

‘Phone room service and tell them to bring up a tray.’

Sam looked up when Khalid spoke, feeling a little knot of resentment twist her guts. Did he have to speak to Peter that way, treat him like a lackey? It was on the tip of her tongue to say something but she managed to hold back. If she did agree to go along then there must be no emotions involved, neither anger nor anything else. She had to treat Khalid as he had treated her that night, coldly, distantly, dismissively.

‘Ah, right. Yes. Good idea.’ Peter picked up the phone, frowning when he failed to get a dial tone. ‘Hmm, that’s odd. It doesn’t seem to be working. I’ll just pop downstairs and ask Reception to sort something out.’

He hurried out of the room before Sam could say anything, not that it was her place to tell him to stay. It was Khalid’s suite, his decision what to do. Walking over to the sofa, she sat down and crossed her legs neatly at the ankles, glad that she had opted to wear something stylish. Maybe her clothes weren’t made by a top couturier like Khalid’s were, but the black cashmere suit and pale grey silk blouse she’d chosen to wear with it were good quality, as were all her clothes these days. Nobody looking at her would guess that she came from such a humble background.

‘So, you decided to come and see me?’ Khalid dropped into a chair, stretching out his legs under the ornate glass and brass coffee table.

‘That’s right.’ Sam deliberately moved her feet out of the way, making it clear that she wanted to avoid any contact with him. She had thought about how she intended to go about this on the train and had decided that the only way was to be honest. No way was she going to prevaricate, to lie; she would come straight out and tell him how she felt. She gave a little shrug, feeling a spurt of pleasure run through her when she saw his eyes darken in annoyance. Obviously, Khalid didn’t appreciate her taking avoiding action. Good!

‘There’s no point me agreeing to go along if we can’t work together, Khalid. It would be a waste of both our time.’

‘I agree.’ He steepled his fingers and regarded her steadily over the top. ‘If we have personal issues to contend with, we won’t be able to give our full attention to our patients. That is something I wish to avoid.’

‘So do I.’ Sam smiled politely although inside she was seething. Personal issues, he called them. Maybe she wasn’t as experienced as him, but leading someone on, almost sleeping with them before rejecting them in the cruellest way possible, seemed rather more than mere personal issues to her.

‘What happened between us that night is in the past and I hope that you have put it behind you as I have done.’ He shrugged. ‘If you haven’t then I would appreciate it if you’d say so. Hopefully, we can talk it all through and put what happened into perspective.’

Oh, he must be desperate. Desperate to retain her services as a medic if not to possess her body. Sam’s smile became even more brittle. ‘There’s no need to talk anything through, I assure you. What happened that night is history, Khalid. It doesn’t have any bearing whatsoever on my life these days.’

‘Good. In that case, I can’t see that we shall have a problem working together.’ He stood up and held out his hand. ‘Welcome aboard, Sam. It’s good to have you with us.’

Sam stood up, feeling her breath catch as she placed her hand in his. His fingers felt so cool as they closed around hers, cool and strong and so achingly familiar that she had to fight the urge to drag her hand away. She took a deep breath, forcing down the momentary panic. She wasn’t in love with Khalid anymore, if, indeed, she had ever been in love with him. She had thought about it a lot over the years, examined her feelings, gone over them time and time again, and gradually realised the truth.

She had been dazzled by him—by his charm, by his sophistication, by his good looks—but love? No. It hadn’t been love. It couldn’t have been. Maybe she would have slept with him that night but that didn’t mean it would have been out of love. Men and women slept together all the time and for all sorts of reasons too. Desire, loneliness, physical need—they were all grounds for intimacy. But love was rare, love was special, love was what everyone sought and very few found. Including her.

She hadn’t been in love with Khalid and he hadn’t been in love with her, so why was her heart racing, aching? Why did she feel so churned up inside? Why did she suddenly not believe all the reasoned arguments she had put together because she was standing here holding Khalid’s hand?

As her eyes rose to his face, Sam realised with a sick feeling in her stomach that she had no idea. What she did know was that holding Khalid’s hand, touching him and having him touch her, made her feel all sorts of things she had never wanted to feel again.

CHAPTER TWO

SAM CLOSED HER eyes, shutting out the view from the plane’s window. They had been flying across the desert for over an hour now and her eyes were aching from the sight of the sunlight bouncing off the undulating waves of sand. She hadn’t realised just how vast the desert was, how many miles of it there would be. Although Khalid had explained when they had stopped to refuel at Zadra, the capital of Azad, that they would need to fly to their base at the summer palace, it hadn’t prepared her for its enormity. Just for a second she was filled with doubts. What if she couldn’t cope in such a hostile environment? What if she ended up being a liability rather than a help? It wouldn’t make her feel better to know that once again Khalid must regret getting involved with her.

‘Cup of tea?’

Sam jumped when someone dropped down onto the seat beside her. Opening her eyes, she summoned a smile for the pleasant-faced woman holding a cup of tea out to her. It was pointless getting hung up on ideas like that. What had happened between her and Khalid in the past had no bearing on the present. She was six years older, six years wiser, six years more experienced and she wouldn’t allow Khalid to make her doubt herself. She didn’t need to prove her worth to him or to anyone else.

‘Thanks.’

Sam took the cup and placed it carefully on the table, not wanting to spill tea on the butter-soft leather seat. They were using one of Khalid’s father’s fleet of private jets and the luxury had been rather overwhelming at first. She had only flown on scheduled aircraft before and hadn’t been prepared for the opulence of real leather upholstery and genuine wooden panelling in the cabin. There was even marble in the bathrooms, smooth and cool to the touch, a world removed from the plastic and stainless steel she was more used to. If Khalid had wanted to highlight the differences in their backgrounds then he couldn’t have found a better way than by inviting her to travel on this plane.

‘Nothing like a cuppa to give you a boost.’ The woman—Jessica Farrell, Sam remembered, digging into her memory—grinned as she settled back in the adjoining seat. If Jessica was at all awed by the luxury of their transport it didn’t show and Sam suddenly felt a little better. She was setting too much store by trivialities, she realised. Reading way too much into everything that happened. Khalid’s choice of transport had nothing to do with her.

‘There certainly isn’t.’ Sam took a sip of her tea then smiled at the other woman. ‘Have you been on other aid missions like this?’

‘Uh-huh.’ Jess swallowed a mouthful of tea. ‘This is my tenth trip, although it’s the first time I’ve been into the desert. I usually end up in the wilds of the jungle, so this will be a big change, believe me.’

‘Your tenth trip? Wow!’ Sam exclaimed in genuine amazement, and Jess laughed.

‘I know. I must be a glutton for punishment. Every time I get back home feeling completely knackered I swear I’ll never do it again but I never manage to hold out.’ Jess glanced across the cabin and her expression softened. ‘Peter can be so persuasive, can’t he?’

‘He can,’ Sam agreed, hiding her smile. It appeared that Peter had a fan, not that she was surprised. Peter was such a love, kind and caring and far too considerate for his own good. He had been involved in overseas aid work ever since they had qualified, combining his job as a specialist registrar at a hospital on the south coast with various assignments abroad. Sam wasn’t the least surprised that Jess thought so highly of him. What was surprising was that he and Khalid had remained such good friends when they were such very different people.

Her gaze moved to Khalid, who was sitting by himself at the rear of the plane, working on some papers. He had been polite but distant when he had welcomed her on board that morning but as he had been exactly the same with the rest of the team, she couldn’t fault him for that. She had been one of the first to board and she had made a point of watching how he had treated everyone else even though she hated the fact that she had felt it necessary. They had both agreed that they had put the past behind them so what was the point of weighing up the warmth of his greeting? Nevertheless, she hadn’t been able to stop herself assessing how he had behaved and it was irritating to know that he still had any kind of a hold over her. Khalid was history. Her interest in him was dead and buried. The sooner she got that clear in her head, the better.

He suddenly looked up and Sam felt her face bloom with colour when his eyes met hers. It was obvious from his expression that he had realised she was watching him and she hated the fact that she had given herself away. Turning, she stared out of the window, watching the pale glitter of sand rushing past below. She had to stop this, had to stop thinking about Khalid or she would never be able to do her job.

‘Peter told me you’re an obstetrician. I imagine you’ll be in great demand during this trip.’

‘I hope so.’ Sam fixed a smile to her lips as she turned to Jess. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Khalid return to his notes and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he had known that she’d been watching him but so what? He must have been watching her too if he had noticed.

The thought wasn’t the best to have had, definitely not one guaranteed to soothe her. Sam hurried on, determined not to dwell on it. There was bound to be a certain level of … awareness between them after past events. However, that was all it was, an echo from the past and not a forerunner for the future.

‘Peter emailed me a printout of the infant mortality rates and I was shocked, to be frank. They shouldn’t be so high in this day and age.’

‘I know. I saw them too.’ Jessica grimaced. ‘The number of women who die in childbirth is almost as bad.’

‘I’m not sure yet what’s going wrong but I suspect a lot of the problems are caused by a lack of basic hygiene,’ Sam observed. ‘I’m hoping to train some of the local midwives and make sure they understand how important it is that basic issues, like cleanliness, are addressed.’

‘You’ll find that the women are more aware of the problems than you may think. You shouldn’t assume that they’re ignorant of the need for good hygiene.’

Sam looked up when she heard Khalid’s deep voice. He was standing beside Jessica’s seat, a frown drawing his elegant brows together. His comment had sounded very much like a rebuke to her and she reacted instinctively.

‘I have no intention of assuming anything. I shall assess the situation first and then decide what can be done to rectify the problems.’ Her eyes met his and she had to suppress a shiver when she saw how cold they were. Just for a moment she found herself recalling how he had looked at her that night, his liquid-dark eyes filled with passion, before she brushed the memory aside. Maybe Khalid had wanted her for a brief time but he had soon come to his senses after that article had appeared in the newspapers. After all, what would a man like him, a man who had the world at his feet, want with someone like her?

Sam bit her lip, determined not to let him know how much his rejection still hurt. It wasn’t as though it had been the first time it had happened or the last but it was incredibly painful to recall what had gone on that night. Even though she had worked hard to get where she was, she had never been able to rid herself completely of her past. Oh, she might know how to dress these days, might have refined her manners and shed her accent, but she was still the girl from the rundown estate whose mother had brought home one man after another and whose brother was in prison.

She took a deep breath and used it to shore up her defences. The truth was that she hadn’t been good enough for Khalid six years ago and she still wasn’t good enough for him now.

Khalid inwardly cursed when he saw the shuttered expression on Sam’s face. Why on earth had he said that or, at least, said it in that tone? Sam knew what she was doing. She wouldn’t be here if he had any doubts about that. Peter had kept him informed of her progress over the years and Khalid knew that she was making her mark in the field of obstetrics. Sam was clever, committed, keen to learn and a lot of people in high places had recognised her potential. Rumour had it that she would be offered a consultant’s post soon and it was yet more proof of her ability.

He knew how difficult it was for women to rise through the ranks. Although most people believed that equality between the sexes was the norm in modern-day Britain, it wasn’t only in countries like Azad where women came off second best. It happened all over the world to a greater or lesser degree. His own field—surgery—was one of the worst for discriminating against women, in fact. Although he knew he was good at what he did, he also knew that it helped to be male. And rich. And have the right connections.

Sam had none of those things going for her but she was making her mark anyway and he admired her for it. She had guts and determination in spades, which was why he had been attracted to her in the first place. Sam had been very different from the other women he had known.

The thought hung in the air, far too tantalising to feel comfortable with. Khalid thrust it aside, needing to focus on what really mattered. How he had felt about Sam was of little consequence these days.

‘Of course. And I apologise if you thought I was criticising you,’ he said smoothly. ‘You are the expert in this field and, naturally, I shall be guided by you.’

She gave a small nod in acknowledgement although she didn’t say anything. Khalid hesitated, wondering why he felt so unsure all of a sudden. He wasn’t a man normally given to self-doubts—far from it. However, her response made him wonder if he should have been a little more effusive with his apology. He didn’t want them getting off to a bad start, after all. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something else when Jess let out a yelp.

‘Look! That can’t really be what I think it is? Oh, Peter has to see this.’

Khalid moved aside as Jess shot out of her seat. Bending, he stared through the porthole, smiling faintly when he realised what had captured her attention. After the time they’d spent flying over the barren desert, he could understand why Jess had such difficulty believing her own eyes.

‘It’s like something out of a fairy tale. It can’t possibly be real.’

The wonder in Sam’s voice brought his eyes to her face and he felt a rush of tenderness envelop him. Sitting down on the recently vacated seat, he pointed to a spot a little to her right.

‘Oh, it’s real enough. Look over there and you’ll see the lights on the runway.’ He laughed deeply, feeling his chest tighten when he inhaled the lemon fragrance of her shampoo as she turned to do his bidding. It was an effort to continue when his breathing seemed to have come to a full stop. ‘It looks less like a fairy-tale palace when you see the modern-day accoutrements that are needed to keep it functioning.’

‘What a shame.’ Sam shook her head, oblivious to the problems he was having as she studied the lights. ‘It would have been nice to believe the fantasy even if it was only for a few minutes.’

She glanced round and Khalid stiffened when he saw how soft her eyes looked, their colour echoing the pale grey tones of the doves that flew over the summer palace. They had been the exact same colour that night, he recalled. A softly shimmering grey. He could picture them now, recall in perfect detail how she had looked as she had lain on the bed, waiting for him to make love to her.

The memory was too sharp, too raw even now. Khalid couldn’t deal with it and had no intention of trying either. He stood up abruptly. ‘We shall be landing in a few minutes. I need a word with the pilot, if you’ll excuse me.’

He made his way to the cockpit and told the pilot to radio ahead and make sure the cars were standing by to meet them. There was no need for him to do so, of course. Everything had been arranged but it gave him something to do, a purpose, a reason to get away from Sam and all those memories that he’d thought he had dealt with years ago. As he made his way back to his seat, he realised with a sinking heart how wrong he had been. The memory of that night hadn’t gone away, it had just been buried. He wanted to bury it again, bury it so deep this time that it would never surface, but could he? Was it possible when Sam was here, a constant reminder of what he had given up?