Praise for Jennifer Taylor:

‘A superbly written tale of hope, redemption and forgiveness, THE SON WHO CHANGED HIS LIFE is a first-class contemporary romance that plumbs deep into the heart of the human spirit and touches the soul.’

—cataromance.com

‘Powerful, compassionate and poignant, THE SON WHO CHANGED HIS LIFE is a brilliant read from an outstanding writer who always delivers!’

—cataromance.com

Dear Reader

The desert has fascinated me for a very long time. In fact, spending time in the desert comes in at number two on my personal bucket list! As I’m not sure yet when I shall be able to get there, writing this book was the next best thing—and I have to admit, hand on heart, that I loved every single minute of it.

Bringing Sam and Khalid back together was always going to be an emotional experience. They parted on such bad terms, and each has been left badly scarred by the experience. There are so many reasons why they can’t be together, and yet they both realise from the moment they meet again that the old feelings haven’t disappeared as they believed. There is still something there, something that draws them to one other, and it makes no difference whatsoever that they each know the relationship is doomed, that it can never work when they come from such vastly different backgrounds.

Helping Sam and Khalid overcome their problems was a real pleasure. They are such lovely characters—brave, strong, determined and, yes, stubborn too! I always fall a little in love with my heroes and Khalid is definitely a hero to fall in love with. As for Sam—well, she is a woman who knows her own mind, a woman who has had to fight for what she wants from life, and I admire her gutsy attitude. I hope you will agree that Sam and Khalid get the ending they so deserve.

Do visit my blog and tell me what you think of this book: Jennifertaylorauthor.wordpress.com

I have a stack of wonderful photographs of the desert to show you. And who knows? I might even get the chance to take some myself!

Love to you all

Jennifer

JENNIFER TAYLOR lives in the north-west of England, in a small village surrounded by some really beautiful countryside. She has written for several different Mills & Boon® series in the past, but it wasn’t until she read her first Medical Romance™ that she truly found her niche. She was so captivated by these heartwarming stories that she set out to write them herself! When she’s not writing, or doing research for her latest book, Jennifer’s hobbies include reading, gardening, travel, and chatting to friends both on and off-line. She is always delighted to hear from readers, so do visit her website at www.jennifer-taylor.com

One More Night
with Her
Desert Prince…
Jennifer Taylor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedication

For all the Medical series authors, with thanks for your kindness and support.

We are definitely going to have that party at the Ritz when my numbers come up!

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?

Khalid glanced across the cabin and felt a chill run through him as he studied the gentle lines of her profile. He had a feeling that he might never be able to rid himself of the memory of that night. It might continue to haunt him. For ever.

By the time they were shown to their accommodation, Sam was exhausted. Maybe it was the length of time it had taken to get there but she couldn’t even summon up the energy to look around. Jess had no such problems, however. She hurried from room to room, exclaiming in delight.

‘A sunken marble bath! And a separate wet room!’ Jess opened a huge glass-fronted cabinet and peered inside. ‘Oh, wow! Look at all these lotions and potions. It’s like having our very own beauty salon on tap.’

‘Not quite what I was expecting,’ Sam observed pithily, tossing her bag onto the bed. There were three bedrooms in the guest house they’d been allocated, each decorated in a style that could only be described as lavish. Opening her case, she tipped its contents onto the umber silk spread, which matched the draperies hanging from the bed’s ornate gilt frame.

‘Me too. I thought we’d be camping out in a grotty old tent in the middle of the desert but this is great.’

Jess went into one of the other bedrooms and Sam heard a thud as she threw herself down onto the bed. She sighed, wishing she could share Jess’s enthusiasm. If she had to describe her feelings then she would have to say that she felt … well, cheated. Surely Khalid hadn’t brought them all this way so they could lounge around in the lap of luxury? She’d honestly thought she would be doing valuable work, making a positive contribution towards improving the lives of the desert women, but how could she do that if she was cloistered away in here?

The thought spurred her into action. Leaving her clothes in an untidy heap on the bed, she hurried from the room, calling to Jess over her shoulder, ‘I’m just going to have a word with Khalid.’

‘Okey-dokey. I think I’ll treat myself to a bath,’ Jess replied dreamily. ‘No point letting all those goodies go to waste, is there?’

Sam didn’t bother replying. There was no point taking the shine off things by telling Jess how she felt. Crossing the huge marble-floored sitting room, she wrenched open the door then paused uncertainly.

Night had fallen now and she wasn’t sure which way to go. The female members of the team had been shown to their accommodation by one of the servants and Sam hadn’t taken much notice of the route as she had followed the woman through the grounds.

She turned slowly around, trying to get her bearings, and suddenly spotted the pale gleam of the palace’s towers through the palm trees to her left. There was a path leading in that direction and she followed it until she came to a ten-foot-high wall. There was a gate set into it and she turned the handle, frowning when it failed to open. She tried again, tugging on the handle this time, but it still wouldn’t budge and her temper, which was already hovering just below boiling point, peaked. If Khalid had had them locked in then pity help him!

Khalid took a deep breath, hoping the desert air would wash away the stresses of the day. He had honestly thought that he had been ready for what would happen but nothing could have prepared him for being around Sam again. He frowned, trying to put his feelings into context. It was bound to have been stressful to see her again—that was a given. However, he had never expected to feel so raw, so emotional. He was a master at controlling his feelings but he hadn’t been able to control them today. Not with Sam. He had felt things he had never expected to feel, reacted in a way that shocked him.

It made him see how careful he would need to be in the coming weeks. He had to remember that he had nothing to offer Sam apart from a life that would stifle her as it had stifled his own mother. He wouldn’t be responsible for doing that, for taking away everything that made Sam who she was. Sam was brave, kind, funny and determined and he couldn’t bear to imagine how much she would change if he allowed his desire for her to take over.

The thought lay heavily in his heart as he strode along the path. The summer palace was built on the site of an oasis and the grounds benefited from an abundance of fresh water. The night-time scent of the flowers filled the air as he made his way through the grounds. Normally the richly, spicy aroma soothed him but tonight it failed to move him. The scent of Sam’s shampoo still lingered in his nostrils and nothing seemed able to supplant it.

Khalid’s mouth tightened as he nodded to the guard standing outside the entrance to the male guest quarters. He had to stop this, had to remember why Sam was here, which wasn’t for his benefit. She was here to do a job and once it was done she would go back to her own life and he would go back to his. There was no future for them together and he’d be a fool to imagine that there was.

If he had been willing to take a chance he would have taken it six years ago, made love to her and made promises that he would have kept too. He had wanted her so much, wanted her in his arms, in his bed, in his life, but he had realised after those articles had appeared in the press the damage it would cause if he had acted upon his feelings.

Maybe he had wanted her, and maybe she had wanted him too, but it wouldn’t have been enough to make up for what would have happened if news of their relationship had leaked out. Sam would have been subjected to constant scrutiny by the press, her every action commented on, her family’s shortcomings discussed ad nauseam. He had seen how hurt she had been, how upset, and he had known that he couldn’t bear to see her subjected to that kind of pressure on top of everything else she would have had to contend with if they had stayed together.

He sighed. Sam would have had to give up such a lot, her independence, her career; give up being who she was, in fact, and it had been far too much to ask. Even though he spent a lot of his time working in London, Azad was his home and he always came back here. If he had brought Sam here to live, she would have had to conform to a way of life that was completely alien to her. Although changes were taking place, women in Azad still faced many restrictions. Perhaps Sam could have handled it at first even with the added strain of all the unwelcome publicity, but eventually she would have found the life too oppressive, as his mother had done.

He couldn’t have stood that, couldn’t have tolerated watching her love turn to resentment, which was why he had done what he had that night. Khalid took a deep breath as he made himself face the cold hard facts. It had been better to destroy her love for him once and for all than watch it slowly wither and die.

Sam rolled over, struggling to untangle herself from the silken folds of the sheet. Reaching out, she pulled the alarm clock closer and sighed. Three a.m. and she was still wide awake. She had tried everything she could think of, counted sheep, recited poetry, thought sleep-inducing thoughts, but nothing had worked. Her body might be exhausted but her mind wouldn’t slow down. It kept whizzing this way and that, yet always ending up at the same point: that moment six years ago when all her dreams had been shattered.

Tears filled her eyes but she blinked them away. She had done all the crying she intended to do and she wasn’t going to start again. So Khalid had changed his mind, decided that he hadn’t wanted her—so what? The world hadn’t come to an end, the heavens hadn’t fallen in and she had survived. If anything, it had made her stronger, made her value herself more. She had stopped apologising for her background, stopped feeling that she didn’t deserve to be where she was. When it had come to breaking off her engagement last year, she hadn’t hesitated. The relationship wouldn’t have worked and she had known that … as Khalid must have known that their relationship had been doomed to failure.

Sam sighed as once again her thoughts returned to Khalid. Rolling over, she tried to get comfortable. She needed to sleep or she’d be fit for nothing tomorrow or, rather, today. Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to drift, deciding it was easier than trying to steer it in any direction. Pictures flowed in and out of her mind: the desert they had flown over; the summer palace shimmering like a mirage in its lush green setting….

The sound of stealthy footsteps made her eyes fly open and she peered into the darkness. Was there someone in the room, Jess perhaps? Barely daring to breathe, she eased herself up against the pillows and felt her heart knock against her ribs when she saw the outline of a man silhouetted against the window. It hadn’t occurred to her to close the shutters and she could feel the fear rising inside her as the figure approached the bed. Grabbing the clock off the nightstand, she held it aloft, wishing she had a more substantial weapon with which to defend herself.

‘Get out or you’re going to regret it!’

‘Sam, it’s me.’

Khalid’s deep voice was the last thing she had expected to hear. The clock slid from her fingers and landed on the floor with a crash. Sam stared at him as he came closer, still not sure if he was real or a figment of her imagination.

‘Khalid?’ she whispered, her own voice sounding husky in the silence. ‘Is it really you?’

‘Yes.’

He bent so that she could see his face and her breath caught when she saw how his eyes glittered with an emotion she couldn’t interpret. When he moved closer, so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek, she almost cried out. It took every scrap of will power she could muster to lie there and not do anything, not react in any way at all. Khalid had come to her and it was up to him to tell her why.

‘I’m sorry to wake you, Sam. I know how tired you must be after the journey.’ His voice sounded softer, deeper, strumming her nerves like a violin bow, and she shuddered.

‘What do you want?’ she murmured, wishing that she sounded more certain and less unsure.

‘You.’ He suddenly smiled, his teeth gleaming whitely in the moonlight. ‘I need you, Sam.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘THE BABY’S BREECH. It’s too late to turn it or perform a C-section so we’ll have to deliver it vaginally.’

Sam turned to Jess and smiled. Although the young mother, Isra, couldn’t understand what they were saying, she would soon guess how serious the situation was if they showed any signs of concern. Sam could tell that the girl was terrified and it wouldn’t help if they lost her confidence at this point.

‘I’ve not delivered a breech before,’ Jess murmured, following Sam’s lead and smiling broadly. ‘I hope you have.’

‘I’ve done my share,’ Sam assured her, washing her hands in the basin of water on the dresser. There was no point stating the obvious, that the breech deliveries she’d been involved with had been carried out in the safety of a highly equipped maternity unit. They didn’t have such luxuries on tap here so they would have to manage the best way they could.

‘I need a word with Khalid,’ she told Jess, refusing to dwell on the negatives. She had delivered several breech babies and every single one of them had survived. There was no reason to think that this baby wouldn’t survive too. ‘Our biggest problem is going to be the language barrier so we’ll need an interpreter.’

‘OK. Anything you want me to do?’ Jess asked, sponging Isra’s face.

‘Not really. I’ll only be a moment,’ Sam assured her.

She left the bedroom, frowning when she discovered that there was nobody about. After Khalid had woken her, he had led her to the servants’ quarters. Isra was the wife of one of the palace cooks and she and her husband lived in the grounds. Although their house was only small, much smaller than the one she and Jess were sharing, it was spotlessly clean and tidy.

Sam peered into a kitchen, which boasted a woodburning stove, and a tiny but well-equipped bathroom as she made her way along the passageway. From what she could see, the staff were well catered for and it was good to know that they were treated with respect. She came to the sitting room, which was also small but very attractive with brightly coloured rugs on the tiled floor and heaps of cushions on the low couches. It all looked very comfortable but decidedly empty. Where was everyone?

Sam stepped out of the door, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and heard footsteps approaching. Just for a second her mind whizzed back to those moments in the bedroom when she had spotted the silhouette of a man highlighted against the window and she felt her heart race. If she’d known it was Khalid, would she have felt more afraid or less? Would it have been better to face an intruder than to face him and have to go through those seconds when she’d thought he had wanted her for a very different reason?

‘How is she doing?’

Khalid’s voice cut through her thoughts, cool and clear in the silence of the night, and Sam shivered. She turned towards him, taking care to maintain a neutral expression. There was no way that she was going to let him know how she had felt, definitely no way that she was prepared to admit that she had wanted him too, although not for his skills as a surgeon. It would be foolish to do that, foolish and dangerous as well. Giving Khalid licence to toy with her emotions again was a mistake she didn’t intend to make.

‘The baby’s breech,’ she informed him crisply. ‘It’s too late to perform a section so we’re going to have to deliver it vaginally but we’ll need an interpreter. The mother’s co-operation is vital in this situation.’

‘Of course,’ Khalid agreed, frowning.

Sam’s brows rose. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘Unfortunately, yes. The female interpreter I’ve hired isn’t joining us until tomorrow.’

‘Surely there must be someone else here who speaks English.’

‘Of course. However, they are all male.’

‘So?’

‘So it wouldn’t be right to allow them to be present at the birth.’

‘Why on earth not?’ Sam exclaimed.

‘Because men are not allowed to be present at the birth of a child, not even the father, let alone an outsider.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Sam declared hotly.

‘It may seem so to you but it’s a cultural issue.’ He shrugged, his face betraying little of what he was feeling. If he was annoyed by her outburst it didn’t show, Sam thought, but, then, why should he feel anything? Khalid was indifferent to her, as he had made clear. The thought stung so that it was an effort to focus when he continued.

‘Isra would lose the respect of her husband and her family if it were to happen. It’s out of the question, I’m afraid.’

‘How about if you did it? I mean, you’re a doctor, Khalid, so surely that makes a difference?’

‘I’m afraid not. Although views are changing in the city and there are even a few male obstetricians working in the hospital, the desert people still hold fast to the old ways.’

‘Then what do you suggest?’ Sam demanded, in no mood to compromise. Her feelings didn’t enter into this, she reminded herself. It was her patient who mattered, not how hurt she had been when Khalid had rejected her. ‘I need Isra to work with me, do what I tell her to do as and when it’s necessary. It’s vital if we hope to deliver this baby safely.’

‘The only thing I can suggest is that we erect a screen across the window. Then I can stand outside and relay your instructions to her without actually being in the same room.’

‘That sounds like a plan,’ Sam agreed slowly, then nodded. ‘Yes. It should work so long as you’re able to hear what I’m saying.’

‘Oh, that won’t be a problem.’ He smiled faintly, his beautiful mouth turning up at the corners. ‘You have a very clear and distinctive voice, Sam. I’ll have no difficulty hearing you.’

‘Oh. Right.’

Sam felt a rush of heat sweep up her face and was glad of the darkness because it hid her confusion. That had sounded almost like a compliment and it was something she hadn’t expected. She turned away, hurrying back into the house before the idea could take hold. Khalid could have meant anything by the comment or he could have meant nothing and she would be a fool to get hung up on the idea. She quickly explained to Jess what was going to happen, half expecting the other woman to find it as ridiculous as she had done. However, Jess merely shrugged.

‘I’ve come across it before. Some of the African tribes don’t allow men to be present at a birth.’

‘Really? I had no idea,’ Sam admitted. She glanced round when she heard noises outside the window. ‘It sounds as though Khalid is getting everything organised. We’d better get set up in here.’

She and Jess worked swiftly as they spread a sterile sheet under Isra and donned their gowns. Sam decided that she would need to perform an episiotomy to help ease the baby’s passage. As it was presenting bottom first, it was harder for it to make its way out into the world and a small incision in the perineum would help enormously. It would also prevent the perineum becoming badly torn.

‘Can you explain to Isra that I’m going to do an episiotomy?’ she said clearly, glancing towards the window. A wooden screen had been erected across it so she couldn’t see Khalid and could only assume he was there. ‘If you can tell her why it’s necessary, it should make it less scary for her.’

‘Will do.’

His voice floated back to her, soft and deep and strangely reassuring. Although she couldn’t understand what he was saying to Isra, Sam knew that his tone would have reassured her if she’d been in the young woman’s position. It obviously did the trick because Isra stopped looking quite so scared.

Sam worked swiftly, administering a local anaesthetic before making the incision. The girl lay quite still, bearing the discomfort with a stoicism that filled Sam with admiration. ‘Well done,’ she told her, patting her hand.

She jumped when from the window came the sound of Khalid’s voice repeating her comment. His voice sounded so warm that she shivered before she realised what she was doing and stopped herself. The warmth of his tone wasn’t a measure of his regard for her but for Isra, she reminded herself.

She applied herself to the task, refusing to allow her thoughts to wander as she pressed gently on the top of the uterus to help ease the baby out. Isra’s labour pains were extremely strong now and Sam decided that she needed to stop the girl pushing.

‘I want you to take small breaths, like this,’ she told her, panting so Isra would understand what she wanted her to do.

Khalid repeated her instructions, although Sam noticed that he didn’t do the panting and smiled. Maybe it was expecting too much to hope he would mimic her. After all, he was a prince as well as a doctor! The thought made her chuckle and Jess looked at her quizzically.

‘OK, give. What’s tickled your funny bone?’

Sam knew that she should keep her thoughts to herself but she couldn’t resist telling Jess. ‘I was just wondering why our interpreter didn’t repeat all my instructions,’ she explained, raising her voice so that there’d be no chance of Khalid not hearing her. ‘He missed out the panting.’

Jess giggled. ‘Maybe not the done thing for a prince.’

‘Like those mums who opt for a section because they’re too posh to push?’ Sam grinned. ‘You could be right. He’s just too posh to pant!’

Khalid felt a rush of heat flow through him when he heard the amusement in Sam’s voice. He couldn’t believe how good it felt to know that he was the reason why she was laughing. She’d been so distant towards him since they’d met again, so reserved, so cold, and he hated it.

Sam possessed a natural warmth that had drawn him to her from the moment they had met. Although he was used to women fawning over him because of his position, Sam had never treated him as someone special. Her response to him had been wholly natural and he had loved that, loved seeing her eyes light up when he had walked into a room, loved hearing her voice soften, loved knowing that she had wanted to be with him for who he was. He might be a prince, he might be rich, he might be many things, but he had never felt more like himself than when he had been with her. He had never needed to pretend with Sam. Not until that last night.

The thought filled him with pain and he sucked in his breath, afraid that she would hear an echo of it when he spoke. He could hear her talking to Isra, her voice so calm and reassuring that he knew it would soothe the young mother’s fears even if the girl couldn’t understand the actual words. He applied himself diligently to the task of translating, doing his best to mimic Sam’s tone. He didn’t want to let her down; he wanted to support her in any way he could. When the reedy sound of a baby’s cry drifted out to him, his face broke into a smile.

‘Is it all right?’ he called through the screen.

‘Fine. A little battered, as is mum, but he’s in fine fettle,’ Sam called back, and he could hear the elation in her voice. That she was thrilled by the birth of this child was clear and it touched him that she should care so much.

‘It’s a boy, then?’ he said levelly, doing his best to control his emotions. He had to stop letting himself get carried away, had to remember that he had no rights where Sam was concerned. How she did or didn’t feel wasn’t his concern.

‘Yes. Jess is just weighing him …’ She broke off and then continued. ‘He’s almost three kilos so he’s not a bad weight either.’

‘That’s excellent,’ Khalid agreed. ‘I’ll go and inform the father if you don’t need me anymore.’

‘No, we’re fine.’ She paused then said quickly, ‘Thank you, Khalid. We couldn’t have managed nearly as well if you hadn’t translated for us.’

‘It was my pleasure,’ he said softly, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice. Maybe it was foolish but it felt good to know that he had redeemed himself a little in her eyes.

He made his way to Isra’s parents’ house. Her husband, Wasim, had gone there to wait for news. He was delighted if a little overwhelmed when Khalid announced that he had a son. Having a royal prince inform him of his baby’s birth obviously wasn’t something he was prepared for. Khalid brushed aside the younger man’s thanks and left. This was a time for family celebrations and they didn’t need him there. As he made his way back to the palace, he found himself wondering if he would ever be in Wasim’s position, celebrating the birth of his own child. It was what was expected of him as a royal prince and second in line to the throne. Even his father had started dropping hints that it was time he thought about settling down and starting a family, yet he had great difficulty imagining it happening. Although he had known many women—and known them in every sense of the word too—Sam was the only woman he had wanted to spend his life with.

His heart was heavy as he made his way to his suite. He had a feeling that if he did marry, whoever he chose would only ever be second best. How could it be fair to enter into marriage on that basis?

It was shortly before dawn by the time Sam left Isra’s house. Jess had already left but she had stayed behind to make sure that there were no unforeseen complications. Thankfully, the baby seemed none the worse for his traumatic arrival and had taken his first feed. Isra seemed much happier as well and was being looked after by her mother and various female relatives. There was no reason for Sam to stay any longer so she smilingly accepted the family’s thanks then made her way through the grounds, following the path that Khalid had taken the night before.

Everywhere looked very different now, the first pearly grey fingers of light lending a dreamlike quality to the scene. The palace’s towers seemed to float in mid-air, shimmering above the hazy outline of the palm trees. When a horseman suddenly came into view, he seemed as insubstantial as everything else. It was only when he drew closer that Sam recognised Khalid beneath the flowing folds of the burnoose and realised it wasn’t her imagination playing tricks after all.

‘Have you only just finished?’ he asked in surprise, tossing back the hood of his cloak as he reined the horse to a halt.

‘Yes.’ Sam stroked the horse’s velvety muzzle, keeping her gaze on the animal rather than allowing it to linger on Khalid. Her heart gave a little jolt as the horse shifted impatiently, bringing Khalid squarely into her line of sight. He looked so different dressed in the flowing robes, a world removed from the urbane and sophisticated man she knew, that it was an effort to respond naturally. ‘I wanted to stay until I was sure Isra and the baby were all right.’

Khalid frowned. ‘I appreciate that but you must be exhausted.’

‘I’m fine. I’m used to late nights … and early mornings,’ she added wryly. ‘Babies seem to prefer to keep unsocial hours.’

He laughed, patting the horse’s neck when it began to paw the ground. ‘It makes me glad that I opted for surgery. At least there is usually some structure to my working day.’

‘It doesn’t bother me,’ Sam told him truthfully. ‘I’ve developed the knack of snatching an hour’s sleep whenever I can.’

‘That must help, but you were already tired after the journey. Are you going to try and get some sleep now?’

‘I doubt I’ll manage it. I’m far too keyed up,’ she admitted, then wished she hadn’t said anything when she saw his eyes narrow. She hurried on, not wanting him to read too much into the comment. ‘It’s being here in a strange place, I expect.’

‘Probably,’ he agreed, but she heard the scepticism in his voice and went hot all over.

Did Khalid think that he was the reason why she felt so on edge? she wondered anxiously. And was he right? Was it less the unfamiliarity of her surroundings that had left her feeling so unsettled and more the fact that she was with him? She sensed it was true and it was hard not to show how disturbing she found the idea. She didn’t want to feel anything for him but it appeared she had no choice.

‘If you aren’t going straight to bed, why don’t you come with me?’

‘Pardon?’ Sam looked up in surprise and he shrugged.

‘If you can’t sleep then come and watch the sun rise over the desert. It’s a sight worth seeing, believe me.’

‘Oh, but I couldn’t possibly …’

‘Why not?’ He stared arrogantly down at her and she could see the challenge in his eyes. ‘What’s to stop you, Sam? Unless you’re afraid, of course?’

‘Afraid? Of you?’ Sam shook her head, refusing to admit that he was right. She was afraid—afraid of being with him, afraid of getting too close to him; afraid of becoming attracted to him all over again.

‘In that case, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t come, is there?’ He bent down and offered her his hand. ‘Come.’

Sam took a deep breath as she placed her hand in his. She knew she was making a mistake but how could she refuse? Did she really want him to know that he still had a hold over her? Of course not.

Placing her foot in the stirrup as he instructed, she let him help her onto the horse. He settled her in front of him, putting his arm around her waist when the horse began to prance. ‘Shh, Omar. There is nothing to fear.’

Drawing her back against him, he wrapped a fold of the burnoose around her, shaking his head when she opened her mouth to protest. ‘It’s still very cold. You’ll be glad of the extra layer once we’re out in the desert.’

Sam bit her lip as he turned the horse around. If she made a fuss then it would appear that she was overreacting and that was the last thing she wanted, for Khalid to suspect that his nearness troubled her. She forced herself to relax as they rode towards the gates. The guard saw them approaching and opened them, then they were outside, the lush green vegetation closing in around them. Khalid kept the horse to a walk as they made their way along the path and then all of a sudden they came to the perimeter of the oasis and before them lay the desert, shimmering like pewter in the pre-dawn light.

‘All right?’ Khalid asked, his voice rumbling softly in her ear.

Sam nodded mutely. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t seem to find her voice even. Between the raw beauty of the desert landscape and Khalid’s nearness, she was awash with sensations and could barely deal with them. When he urged the horse into a canter, she clung to the pommel of the saddle. The wind rushed past, ruffling her hair and bringing with it the strangely elusive scent of the desert, yet all she could smell was Khalid’s skin, a scent she would have recognised anywhere.

Closing her eyes, she gave herself up to the moment, uncaring if she was making a mistake. Maybe it was madness but being with him was what she wanted.

Desperately.

CHAPTER FOUR

KHALID SLOWED THE horse to a walk as they neared an outcrop of rock rising out of the desert floor. He always came to this place whenever he wanted to watch the sun rise. His parents had brought him here as soon as he had been old enough to sit astride a horse and he valued the connection it gave him to his childhood. Life had been so perfect before his parents had divorced.

Sadness filled him as he reined Omar to a halt. He’d been thirteen when his mother had left Azad and although now he understood her reasons for leaving, it had affected him deeply. She had returned to England afterwards while his father had remained in Azad, so Khalid had travelled between both countries, spending time with each of them. His older brother, Shahzad, the son of his father’s first wife who had died in childbirth, had tried to make it easier for him, but the constant to-ing and fro-ing had been unsettling. In the end, Khalid had realised that he had to make a choice and had chosen to live in England.

He had won a place at Cambridge to study medicine and had thrown all his energy into making a success of his studies. Whilst he didn’t regret the path he had chosen, there were times—like now—when he found himself wondering if he had made the wrong decision. If he had opted to live in Azad then he would never have met Sam and his life would be far less complicated now.

Khalid drove the thought from his mind as he dismounted. Having Sam here could only affect him if he allowed it to do so. Reaching up, he offered her his hand, determined that he wasn’t going to let her know how ambivalent he felt. Sam had agreed to come on this mission for one reason and one reason alone: to help the desert women. If she could handle the situation then so could he.

‘Take my hand,’ he instructed, then sucked in his breath when she did as he’d asked. Her hand felt so small compared to his that he was struck by an unexpected rush of tenderness. He wanted to hold on to her hand, to hold on to her, he realised in dismay. And it was the last thought he should have been harbouring.

He quickly released her as she slid safely down to the ground. There were bound to be glitches, he told himself as he tethered Omar to a rock. Moments when his mind and his body were in conflict, but he would deal with them. He simply had to remember that being with Sam wasn’t an option any more now than it had been six years ago. He had no intention of going down the same route his parents had taken, certainly didn’t intend to put any children he might have through the kind of heartache he had suffered. If he kept that at the forefront of his mind, it shouldn’t be a problem.

‘Come. There’s a path along here. It’s not too steep and you shouldn’t have any difficulty climbing it.’ He gave her a cool smile, the sort of smile he utilised on a daily basis. Nobody looking at him would suspect that he felt far from cool inside. ‘The view from the top is worth it, believe me.’

‘I hope so.’

There was an edge to her voice that made him wonder if she had guessed he had mixed feelings about bringing her here. However, as it was too late to reconsider his invitation, he would have to make the best of it. He led the way, slowing his pace so she could keep up. They reached the top and stopped. Below them lay the desert, red-gold along the horizon where the sun’s rays touched it, dark and mysterious closer to where they were standing. It was a sight he had seen many times before and it never failed to move him. However, it seemed to affect him even more that day, with Sam standing there beside him.

Khalid took a deep breath, trying to calm the panic that was twisting his guts as he watched the sun sail majestically over the horizon. A new day had begun and he, a man who was used to controlling his own destiny, had no idea what it would bring.

‘It’s amazing—’

Sam broke off, unable to put into words how the sight affected her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shivered though not from cold. Although the temperature was still low, this shiver stemmed from the mixture of emotions she was experiencing. Sadness at what had happened in the past was mingled with joy at what she was experiencing right now; anger at the way Khalid had treated her was tempered by an unexpected acceptance. It was little wonder that she found it impossible to describe the scene so she didn’t try. Anyway, it was doubtful if Khalid would be interested in her views.

She glanced at him, feeling pain tug at her heart. His heritage had never been more apparent than it was out here in the desert. It wasn’t just the clothes he was wearing but his attitude. He looked every inch the desert prince, so completely at home in this bleak yet beautiful landscape that it simply highlighted the differences between them. Khalid’s world wasn’t her world. It never could be her world either. How could she, a Westerner with her background, become a desert princess?

‘So, was I right?’

He turned to her and Sam struggled to clear her mind of everything except the need to convince him that she was over him. She had honestly thought she was, had truly believed that she had put her feelings for Khalid behind her years ago, but she was no longer sure when her heart was aching at the thought that they were such poles apart.

‘Right?’

‘About it being worth the climb.’ He swept a hand towards the desert. ‘The view from up here is magnificent, isn’t it?’

‘It is,’ she replied coolly. ‘I certainly can’t fault it.’

‘Did you want to?’

There was an edge to his voice that brought a rush of heat to her face. Had she been hoping to find fault with the view, to nitpick and discover flaws because it would have made it easier to find fault with him too? She sensed it was true and she hated the fact that she had been reduced to behaving in such a fashion.

‘I’m sorry, Sam. Maybe bringing you here wasn’t such a good idea after all.’

There was no doubt that the apology was sincere. Sam turned to look at him, seeing the sadness in his eyes. It struck her then that if she was finding it difficult to deal with this situation then it was equally hard for him. The thought shocked her so much that she didn’t pause to consider the wisdom of what she was saying.

‘Why did you bring me here, Khalid? Was it just so I could enjoy the view?’

‘Of course. What other reasons could I have had?’

He shrugged, his broad shoulders moving lightly under the loose folds of the burnoose. Beneath it he was wearing more normal clothing, although they still weren’t the clothes Sam was used to seeing him wear. Usually, Khalid wore immaculately tailored suits, not a loose-fitting white shirt, open at the neck so that she could see the satin gleam of his skin through the gap. White cotton trousers tucked into tan leather boots completed his outfit and made him look very different from the man she had known six years ago. Maybe that was why their relationship had foundered? Because he hadn’t been the person she had thought he was. It hadn’t had anything to do with her background after all.

The thought was far too tantalising. Sam knew that she needed to rid herself of it as quickly as possible. It would be foolish to imagine that Khalid’s rejection hadn’t had anything to do with her past when she knew for a fact that it had.

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