One Desert Night - By Maggie Cox Page 0,3

world of the intellect instead of feelings and emotions. Gina would sit awkwardly by her mother’s bedside and hardly what to say or talk about. Yes, her heart would swell with sympathy, but she should have rebelled long ago against the path that had been laid out for her. She should have given academia and books a very wide berth. What had it done for her? She was dull, dull, dull! A twenty-six-year-old singleton who lived on convenience foods because she had never learned to cook—a pattern she’d inherited from her busily studying parents—and who had never had even one relationship with a man that meant anything.

She had a couple of similarly situated friends, who scorned the very idea of a meaningful relationship because it would undoubtedly be messy and distracting and take their concentration away from their studies. But since coming to Kabuyadir Gina knew that the ‘distracting’ and totally wonderful concept of a mutually loving relationship was crystallising more and more into a longed-for desire in her heart. So much so that she could no longer ignore it…

‘Did you know that the ancient seers and astrologers used to track the destiny of kings through the stars?’ Her companion pointed up towards the navy blue bowl of sky that was liberally arrayed with clusters of tiny winking diamonds.

A totally helpless shiver briefly convulsed Gina. Not only were Zahir’s darkly handsome looks mesmerising, but his voice was imbued with power and magic, too. Coupled with the dreamlike atmosphere of a still-warm desert night, enchantment was being woven round her heart with delicate but unbreakable gossamer threads that would hold it willing prisoner for a long, long time.

‘What about those of us who are merely ordinary, and not kings and queens or anybody special? Do the stars show us our destiny too?’

Gina’s heart missed a beat when Zahir captured her free hand and turned both her palms upwards. His dark gaze looked to be deeply examining the fine lines—some with intricate little chains—that mapped her otherwise smooth skin. The playful caress of a soft breeze lifted a fiercely shiny coil of his hair and let it drop back against his cheekbone. Heat invaded her insides like a wild summer storm that plastered her clothes to her frame and ripped her hair free from its usual neat arrangement as though it wanted to free her soul, too.

‘I do not believe that you are ordinary in any way. Your destiny is beautiful, rohi. How could it be otherwise?’

‘You’re just being kind. You don’t know me. Nothing extraordinary ever happens to me…apart from coming here, I mean.’

‘It grieves me that you clearly have no sense of your own great worth, Gina…your incandescent loveliness.’

‘No one has said such things to me before.’

‘Then the people in your life must be blind…deadened to beauty and grace.’

She stared wide-eyed as he bent his head towards hers, with no thought of trying to struggle against a tide that now seemed inevitable. Her sadness and frustration with life was completely banished, to be replaced by the most ridiculous hope and longing as his large strong hands settled firmly on either side of her hips. The intimate contact was like a sizzling brand, burning through the thin material of her dress. When Zahir’s mouth descended on hers, his lips were softer that down and more tender and exotic than Gina could have imagined.

He gentled her as though she were a nervous lamb, or a small bird he didn’t want to scare or overwhelm with his powerful strength. Beneath his mindful gentle exploration a melting heat drowned her insides in a sea of sensuous honey. The dark trimmed hair that covered his chin and the space above his upper lip was far softer that she would have expected. It was a pleasurable sensation like no other. She would never forget it. As his masculine head and scent invaded her blood like a drugging opiate, she sensed her knees tremble violently. It shocked her to realise that she wanted more…much more of this potent magic he was delivering.

‘You are cold?’ he asked concernedly, his hands still clasped round her hips as his eyes smiled down into hers.

‘No, not cold…I’m shaking because I’m nervous, that’s all.’

‘I have overwhelmed you…’

When Zahir would have respectfully withdrawn, Gina reached out to lay her hand over his heart. The fine cotton of his robe was as sensuous to the touch as the most luxurious velvet. Beneath it she sensed muscles that radiated the masculine strength and energy of