Free Bella and the Merciless Sheikh by Sarah Morgan

length,’ Zafiq ground out, and she looked up at him with a stunning smile, her eyes challenging him to a fight.
    â€˜If this is offending you, you could always take me to the city.’
    So that was her plan.
    She was trying to drive him mad.
    And she was succeeding.
    Rigid in the saddle, Zafiq scanned her outfit in silent disbelief.
    Somehow she’d turned a modest, shapeless robe into a high-fashion item.
    She’d ripped the fabric with her hands, tearing a metre off the bottom so that it now skimmed her thighs, exposing her incredible legs. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d taken some of the leaves from a date palm and woven them into a belt, accentuating her tiny waist.
    Suffering from an explosive blast of sexual arousal, Zafiq took a deep breath and acknowledged that his plan to cover her up had failed spectacularly.
    She looked like a temptress straight from a Greek myth.
    Frustrated by his own response, he raked his brain for an alternative solution to concealing her. ‘You will stay in the tent today,’ he commanded, and she raised her eyebrows, a hint of humour in her gorgeous blue eyes.
    â€˜Am I supposed to say, “Yes, Your Highness”?’
    â€˜â€œYes, Your Highness” would be fine.’
    Her smile was apologetic. ‘Trouble is, I’ve never been much good at doing what people want me to do. I was brought up to challenge and question. I have a tendency to do the opposite of what I’m asked.’
    Zafiq’s gaze didn’t shift. ‘In that case, I order you to stay out of the tent and to walk around half naked until we leave this place.’
    She collapsed into a fit of giggles, her laughter so infectious that he felt the corners of his mouth twitch.
    â€˜You see?’ She was still grinning, a tiny dimple flickering at the corner of her full mouth. ‘You do have a sense of humour. You’re smiling.’
    Was he? Zafiq vaulted from the horse, removed the animal’s bridle and urged him towards the oasis to drink, reminding himself that there was nothing amusing about this situation. But he had to admit that there was something incredibly refreshing about being with someone who didn’t automatically say what they thought he wanted to hear. ‘How is your headache?’
    â€˜Gone, thanks. Did you get any sleep on the floor? Must have been pretty uncomfortable.’
    â€˜I slept,’ he lied, unwilling to admit even to himself that this woman would cause him a moment of unbroken sleep. ‘Are you ready for break fast?’
    â€˜Definitely. I’m starving. Then I think I might go for a swim—naked, of course—and then a long ride in the desert—’
    â€˜You are being intentionally provoking—’
    â€˜No, I’m being me. And you don’t like me, so why don’t you just take me to the city? Then you can have a few days’ peace and quiet. I’m nothing but trouble.’
    â€˜The ability to handle trouble is the true test of a man’s character,’ Zafiq purred, and watched with satisfaction asa flicker of surprise touched her beautiful face. ‘And I love being tested.’
    He had no intention of revealing that he’d never been tested like this before.
    Never before had he felt such a powerful urge to forget who he was and just lose himself with a beautiful woman.
    Irritated by his own thoughts, Zafiq scanned her slender frame. ‘You don’t look like a woman who eats break fast.’
    â€˜I burn off a lot of calories.’ She sounded defensive, as if he wasn’t the first person to say that to her. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me, OK? I don’t have an eating disorder and I’m not on any stupid diet—’
    â€˜Is that what people say about you?’
    â€˜No.’ Her denial was a little too fast. ‘Anyway, I don’t care what people say. I’m slender because I’m a very physical