her pale cheeks.
Mal stared down at her, unable to think of a single time when he’d seen Avery vulnerable. It just wasn’t a word he associated with her. But tonight—yes, tonight she was vulnerable. He wanted to hold her but he didn’t dare take the risk. He wasn’t convinced he’d let her go.
Instead he settled for sitting close to her. ‘Tell me why you avoided my calls.’ Still worried about the bite, he tightened the bandage as much as he dared.
‘I was super-busy.’
‘You are the most efficient woman I know. If you’d wanted to answer my calls, you could have done. When we parted company I thought we would remain friends.’ He should have been thinking about his bride-to-be, but all he could think about was the relationship he’d lost.
‘I’m too busy for friends. About this scorpion—’ as always when a subject became uncomfortable, she shifted direction ‘—he only bit me once. Should I be offended? Does that mean he didn’t like the way I tasted? Or am I like expensive caviar—better consumed in small amounts?’
He didn’t want to think about the way she tasted. Couldn’t allow himself to. Frustration made his voice rougher than he intended. ‘I am going to give you a couple of tablets and then you’re going to rest.’ And stop talking.
‘I don’t take tablets. I’m a drug-free zone.’
‘You’ll take these. And if the rash on your arm hasn’t calmed down in an hour or so, I’m going to fly you out of here.’ And maybe that would be the best thing for both of them. Reaching into his bag, he found the tablets in the supplies he carried and handed them to her with a drink of water, relieved when she swallowed the pills without question or argument but at the same time concerned because it was so unlike her not to question and argue. ‘If you feel bad, I can call the helicopter now.’
‘No.’ Her eyes drifted shut again. ‘I want to stay. I need to be with you.’
The atmosphere snapped tight. Mal felt a weight on his chest. How many times had he waited for her to say those words? And she said them now, when his life was already set on a different course. Was that why she’d picked this moment? Because she knew he couldn’t act on the emotion that simmered between them? I need to be with you. From any other woman those words would have felt oppressive. From Avery they felt like victory. A victory that was too little, too late. ‘You need to be with me? You are telling me this now?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice was barely audible. ‘I need to be there when you find her. I need to talk Kalila into marrying you. It’s the best thing for all of us.’
SHE dreamed of the desert. Only this time when she dreamed of the Prince he was holding her and she couldn’t walk away because he held her close, refusing to let her go.
Trapped.
She struggled slightly but she was held in a strong grip.
‘Shh. It’s just a dream. Go back to sleep.’
The deep male voice lifted her from sleep to semi-wakefulness and she realised that Mal was holding her. It was still dark and she didn’t know which frightened her more—the realisation that she felt truly terrible, or the feeling that came from being held by him. Her head was on his chest and she could feel the slow, steady thud of his heart. She knew she should pull away, but she didn’t.
She’d planned to sleep in the furthest corner of the tent but here he was, lying next to her, holding her. And it felt good.
Too good.
She could feel the brush of his leg against hers and the warmth of his body as he held her in the curve of his arm. The faint glow of light from the torch simply increased the feeling of intimacy.
‘For God’s sake Mal, move over,’ she muttered, ‘you’re in my personal space.’
‘I’m worried about you.’
Her stomach flipped because no one had ever worried about her in her life before. ‘Don’t be. I don’t like the idea you’re waiting for me to drop dead. And you certainly don’t need to hold me.’
‘You’re the one holding me.’ He kept his eyes closed, those dark lashes inky black against his cheek. ‘You did it in your sleep, because you just can’t accept help when you’re awake.’
‘That’s because I don’t need help when I’m awake.’
‘Right. And I suppose you didn’t “need help” last night when you used me as a climbing frame?’
‘That was different. We were invaded by scorpions and if it’s all right with you I’d like to forget about last night.’ She wanted to forget all of it, especially this. She wondered why he was still holding her when the safe and sensible thing to do would have been to let her go.
‘How long have you been having bad dreams?’
‘I don’t have bad dreams.’
‘You had a bad dream. That’s how you ended up clinging to me.’
Embarrassment washed over her like burning liquid. ‘If I had a bad dream last night then it must have been a scorpion-venom-induced nightmare.’ She tried to pull away but he was stronger than she was and he held her tightly.
‘It wasn’t scorpions you were talking about in your sleep.’
She’d been talking in her sleep? Could this get any worse? She wanted to ask if she’d spoken his name, but didn’t want to hear the answer and anyway it was impossible to concentrate with him holding her. It felt dangerously familiar.
‘That’s another scorpion venom thing—’ Her cheek was still against his chest and she could feel hard muscle through the softness of his T-shirt. ‘Check out Wikipedia. I bet it will say something about nightmares. And I’m well and truly awake now, so you can let me go.’
He didn’t. ‘Go back to sleep.’
He expected her to sleep while he was holding her? She could have pulled away, of course, but she didn’t. Couldn’t. This was the way she wanted to sleep. Holding each other. Not wanting to be parted even in sleep. And she’d longed for it so much over the long, barren months they’d been apart. This was the last time they’d ever hold each other and she didn’t want it to end. Without warning, her eyes started to sting. ‘I don’t need you to fuss over me.’
‘You never need anything, do you, Avery Scott?’ His voice was soft in the darkness and she squeezed her eyes tightly so that the tears didn’t fall. She couldn’t believe she was actually crying. She could just imagine what her mother would say to that.
‘Sometimes I pretend to need someone, just to stroke a masculine ego.’
‘I doubt you have ever stroked a man’s ego in your life. Knifed it, possibly.’
She smiled against his chest, safe in the knowledge that he couldn’t see her. ‘Good job yours is robust.’
‘Are you smiling?’
‘No. What is there to smile about? I’m scorpion chow.’ And she was a mess. The pain in her hand was nothing compared to the pain in her heart and he must have sensed her feelings because she felt his hand stroke her hair. Just the slight brush of his fingers, but it was enough to make her tense and he must have felt that too because he stilled, as if aware he’d crossed a line.
‘Go back to sleep, Avery. And, just this once, don’t fight me. A woman doesn’t have to be in charge one hundred per cent of the time.’ His soft voice melted everything hard inside her.
When they’d parted it had almost broken her. Being with him had threatened everything she’d built. She should be pulling away from him, but what she wanted