She felt a flush rise over her body. How did he manage to do this to her? When he looked at her like this, everything seemed to fade into the background—everything but him, and the awareness of him that he made her feel. It was perverse. It was impossible. And yet—
He bent his head and touched his mouth to hers. The kiss was soft, almost tender, and yet she felt the heat of it race through her blood and confuse her senses.
‘Joanna,’ he whispered, and his lips took hers again.
She swayed unsteadily and his hands clasped her more tightly, lifting her on tiptoe, moulding her body to his while their mouths clung together. It was Khalil who finally ended the kiss. When he did, Joanna stared at him, her lips parted, her breathing swift. She wanted to say something clever and sharp, something that would put what had just happened into chill perspective—but it was Khalil who did it instead.
‘Your father is not a fool,’ he said, with a little smile. ‘He will do what any man in his right mind would do for you.’
Of course. Any man would meet the ransom demands of his daughter’s kidnappers, and Sam was no exception.
Joanna forced a thin smile to her lips. ‘You don’t have to tell me that, Khalil. I know it. My father will pay what you ask—but you’ll never have time to enjoy it. Not when you’re going to be rotting in one of Abu’s prisons.’
His hands fell away from her. ‘Ah, Joanna, Joanna. Whenever I begin to wonder if your spirits are sagging, you say something sweet and loving and reassure me that you’re the same soft-hearted creature you’ve always been!’
‘That’s the difference between us,’ she said. ‘You need reminding—but I never for a moment forget what an impossible bastard you are!’
His eyes went dark. ‘You play with fire, Joanna.’
‘What’s the matter? Can’t you handle the truth? Or do you expect me to bow and scrape and worship you adoringly, the way Rachelle does?’
To her surprise, he burst out laughing. ‘You? Bowing and scraping? It is an interesting thought, Joanna, but I think the only things you will ever scrape will be the chicken coops.’
‘What?’ She moved after him as he turned and started for the door. ‘Never,’ she said, ‘not in this lifetime…’ the door opened ‘…or any other,’ she finished, but it was too late. Khalil was gone.
After a moment, she sighed and walked to the window. Why had she wasted time letting him bait her? There were things she’d meant to ask him, things that would make whatever time she had to spend here more bearable.
There was an enclosed garden just outside, a handsome one, from what she could see of it. Would he permit her to walk in it? Surely, he didn’t intend to keep her locked up in—?
A flash of colour caught her eye. Joanna leaned forward. A little girl dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a pale blue polo shirt was playing with a puppy. Despite her own worries, Joanna began to smile. There was something about children and small animals that never failed to move her.
The child laughed as she held out a bright yellow ball, then tossed it across the grass. The puppy wagged its tail furiously, charged after the ball, and brought it back. Joanna’s smile broadened. The two were having a wonderful time, judging by the way the girl was laughing. The puppy looked as if it were laughing, too, with its pink tongue hanging out of its mouth.
Joanna tucked her hip on to the window sill and watched, chuckling softly as the game continued, until the ball bounced crazily on the cobblestoned pathway, tumbled into the dark green hedge that bordered it, and vanished.
The puppy searched, as did the little girl, but neither had seen where the ball had gone.
Joanna tapped the window pane. ‘There,’ she said, ‘in the hedge.’
Neither the child nor the dog could hear her.
She tapped the window again. If the girl would just look up…
The child’s face puckered. She plopped down in the grass, snatched the puppy to her breast, and began to sob. The puppy licked her face but the child only cried harder as she rocked the animal in her arms.
Joanna turned from the window, hurried to the door, and flung it open. The guard standing outside looked up, startled.
‘Excuse me,’ she said, brushing past him.
He called out after her, his equivalent, she was certain, of ‘Hey, where do you think you’re going?’ but she was already halfway down the hall, heading towards an arched doorway that she knew must open on to the garden. She went straight through it, pausing only long enough to be sure the child was still sitting in the same place, holding her dog and weeping.
‘Don’t cry,’ Joanna said when she reached her. The little girl looked up, her eyes widening with surprise. Joanna smiled and squatted down beside her. ‘Do you understand me? You mustn’t cry so hard. You’ll make yourself sick.’
The child raised a tear-stained face. ‘Who are you?’ she said, in perfect English.
‘My name is Joanna. And who are you?’
‘I am Lilia.’ The tears began rolling down her plump cheeks again. ‘And I’ve lost my ball!’
Joanna took the girl’s hands in hers. ‘It’s not the end of the world,’ she said softly.
‘It was a special ball. My father gave it to me, and—’ The tears came faster and faster. ‘And he’s never coming back!’
Joanna rose to her feet. ‘In that case,’ she said, ‘we’ll just have to get that ball, won’t we?’
She spotted not one guard but several hurrying towards her. Too bad, she thought defiantly, as she hurried towards the hedge that had swallowed the child’s toy. When she reached it, she saw that the foliage was denser than it had seemed from her window. She hesitated, then shook her head over her foolishness. It was only a hedge, and the guards were almost upon her. Quickly, she plunged her hand deep into the bush’s green heart.
‘Joanna!’
The ball was here somewhere, dammit. If she could just—
‘Joanna! Stop it! Do you hear me?’
There! She had it now. She winced as she felt something needle-sharp hit her hand, but what did it matter? Face flushed with triumph, she pulled the yellow ball from the tangle of branches and looked up into the dark, angry face of Khalil.
‘Relax, Your Highness,’ she said coolly. ‘I’d love to escape, but I doubt if burrowing through some shrubbery will get me very far.’
‘You fool.’ He barked something at Lilia, who had followed after Joanna. The little girl wiped her eyes, dropped a curtsy, and ran off with the puppy at her heels.
Joanna’s eyes flashed. ‘You see? Everyone bows and scrapes to you, even a slip of a child who—’
Khalil grabbed the ball from her and tossed it aside. ‘Would you risk everything for something as stupid as a child’s toy?’
‘I know a little girl’s tears mean nothing to you, oh great one, but then, you’re not exactly known for having a heart, are you?’ Her chin tilted. ‘What now? Do I get flogged? Put on bread and water?’
Khalil snatched her wrist. ‘Look,’ he growled, lifting her hand.
She looked. There was a single puncture mark in the flesh between her thumb and forefinger.
‘So?’ Joanna’s mouth narrowed. ‘Don’t tell me all this rage is over my getting scratched by a thorn.’
‘No thorn did that, you little idiot! Do you see any thorns on that bush?’
‘So what? It’s nothing but a little cut. What’s the matter, Khalil? Are you afraid I’ll sue you?’
‘Damn you, Joanna.’ He caught hold of her shoulders and shook her. ‘Someone should teach you that a smart answer isn’t always a wise answer!’
‘It won’t kill me,’ she said coldly. ‘I assure you, I’ve survived worse.’
‘You fool,’ he said sharply. ‘When will you learn to shut up long enough
to listen?’
‘If you’re finished, I’d like to return to my room.’ Her teeth flashed in a tight smile. ‘Even being locked inside those miserable four walls is preferable to standing here and dealing with you!’
A muscle knotted in Khalil’s jaw. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’
‘Well, then,’ she said, and turned away from him. But she hadn’t taken a step before he caught hold of her and swept her up in his arms.
‘Put me down!’ Joanna pounded her fist against his shoulder as he strode through the garden and into the coolness of the house. ‘Are you deaf, Khalil? I said, put me down!’
‘With pleasure,’ he growled through his teeth. ‘The instant I am done with you, I will do just that.’
‘What do you mean?’ She pounded on his shoulder again as he swept down the corridor past her room. ‘Dammit, where are you taking me?’
He glanced down at her, his eyes shimmering like the heat waves on the desert.
‘To my rooms,’ he said, with a smile as cold as any she had ever imagined.
Before she could answer, he shouldered open a huge wooden door, then kicked it closed behind him.
Joanna glimpsed a high ceiling, a tapestried wall, and a massive, canopied bed—and then Khalil dumped her on to the mattress, put his hands on his hips, and glared down at her.
‘Now, Joanna,’ he said, ‘let’s get down to business.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
KHALIL was angry, angrier than he should have been, considering the circumstances, but what man wouldn’t be angry when an educated, intelligent woman insisted on making a damned fool of herself?
‘The woman is trying to escape, Highness,’ one of his people had cried out, bursting into the library just as he’d begun a strategy session with his ministers.
His men had let her run when they’d realised she had made for the enclosed garden from which there was no escape.
‘I’ll get her,’ Khalil had said, tight-lipped, but instead of chasing down a fleeing Joanna Bennett, he’d stumbled upon a foolish one, up to her silken elbows in a shrub she should have known better than to touch in the first place.