The Desert Princes. Jackie Braun
to shoulder, knee to knee, Raffa and the other polo player bore down on her. She was certain they were going to ride straight over her when Raffa swerved at the last minute, somehow avoiding a collision with the fence. The other rider didn’t possess half his skill, and she screamed soundlessly as horse, rider and fence hurtled towards her.
CASEY barely registered what happened next. One moment she was watching the impending disaster play out, feet refusing to budge and brain refusing to compute what was happening, and the next she was high off the ground and safe in Raffa’s arms. ‘You saved my life,’ she managed weakly as he settled her on the saddle in front of him.
Grim-faced, Raffa remained silent as he tightened his grip around her waist.
Strength gone, she folded into him. ‘Is the other horse okay?’
‘And the rider,’ he informed her tersely. ‘The fence didn’t make it.’
She turned her head. The sight of Raffa’s strong white teeth gritted behind his face guard brought back every second of the drama in heart-stopping slow motion—the fierce cry from his throat and the blaze of his eyes as he raced to sweep her out of danger.
‘Thank you…’ It was so inadequate.
‘Please try to remain still until I have you checked over.’ Raffa urged his polo pony towards the first aid tent. ‘You little fool,’ he murmured in a low-pitched voice stretched tight with tension. ‘Why did you put yourself in danger?’
Because I was watching you, worrying about you… caring about you…
She knew Raffa didn’t expect an answer—not that she was incapable of giving him one. She could do more than rest against him like a newborn baby, with all her strength gone and no will of her own.
Shock, Casey registered groggily, willing it to pass quickly.
‘I get you out of the sun only for you to decide it’s time to hug a fence. Can’t I leave you alone for a minute?’
Once again, no answer was required, Casey registered as Raffa’s rough cheek accidentally brushed her face. She sensed he held himself responsible for the accident, and was going to remain in this severe mood for some time. ‘It wasn’t your fault. It was all my fault.’
‘We’ll discuss your part in this later.’
‘Did we win?’
‘We survived,’ he said dryly. Reining in by the first aid tent, he tossed the reins to a waiting stable lad. Swinging down from the saddle, he reached up. ‘Come,’ he said in a suddenly much kinder voice, ‘lean on me…’
He lowered her with infinite care, but as she reached the ground her knees buckled. ‘Watch out!’ Raffa exclaimed, catching hold of her.
‘Sorry…’ She was still faint with shock—but not so faint she didn’t know when the ruler of A’Qaban had swung her into his arms and was carrying her safely the rest of the way.
The nurse pronounced Casey fit and well; Raffa pronounced her fate.
‘As I can’t leave you alone for a minute,’ he said, ‘I’m going to keep you with me while you’re in A’Qaban.’
It was all she had ever wanted to hear, but Raffa made it sound like a punishment. Still, when you were confidently expecting an airline ticket home, anything else was a reprieve, Casey reminded herself, brushing her clothes down as they left the first aid tent together.
‘I’ll be travelling into the interior after the trophy for this match has been awarded.’
As she exclaimed with pleasure he dampened her enthusiasm. ‘I can make no allowances for the accident, Casey. You do understand that, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she said tensely.
‘The interior of A’Qaban is dangerous territory where shocks are commonplace—’
‘I understand.’ More dangerous than a polo field?
‘Your powers of recovery from this are crucial. If an accident happens in the desert you can’t waste time, you must think immediately: what next?’
That was exactly what she was thinking.
‘So, are you up for it?’
‘You won’t be disappointed. I’ll do everything you expect me to and more.’
‘But…?’ Raffa’s eyes narrowed, sensing there was something else she wanted to say.
Casey drew a deep breath. ‘But I came to apologise…for last night. I read the papers this morning, and—’
‘That’s something I don’t want to discuss with you,’ Raffa said, frowning.
‘But—’
‘No buts. My decisions aren’t up for discussion. You’re still in the running for this job. That’s all you should care about. But only if you can concentrate and be ready to leave your hotel within the hour.’
‘I will be,’ she said steadily.
Raffa arrived at the hotel in a rugged Jeep with no outriders and no bodyguards in attendance—at least none she could see. Casey was waiting on the steps, as instructed, dressed as a storm trooper once more, though not feeling so odd as when she had arrived at A’Qaban airport, because this time she was dressed in a way Raffa approved of for the desert. She had made one change—replacing her ugly hat with the lightweight shawl she’d bought at the auction, wrapping it around her head and shoulders in the A’Qabani fashion. It was a sensible choice, because it gave her the option of drawing it over her nose and mouth if the air grew dusty.
Swinging out of the driver’s seat, he took hold of her backpack. He too was dressed in survival gear, though his clothes looked considerably more worn than hers.
‘Sun cream?’ he rapped.
‘Of course.’
‘I see you’re wearing my atija; that’s a sensible precaution.’
‘Your…?’
‘Atija means gift,’ he explained, opening the door of the Jeep for her. ‘The shawl was my personal gift to the auction. Now, get in.’
She was still fingering the fine material as she absorbed what Raffa had said. Her shawl was his gift to the auction…his small, thoughtful gift to the auction. On top of all the fabulous jewels he had donated, he had given something he liked, something that was representative of the traditional craft of his country. It was everything she had hoped he might do; everything she had so firmly believed he hadn’t done.
‘Come on,’ he said impatiently, bouncing her into action, ‘The people of the desert don’t wait for anyone—they obey nature’s rules, rather than man’s.’
‘Are you Bedouin?’ she asked as she climbed into the Jeep.
‘My mother was a Bedouin princess.’
And that conjured up the most wonderful images. She longed to know more, but there was a reserve in Raffa’s voice that told her to leave it. If Raffa didn’t want to discuss his parents with her, she respected that.
‘There’s a first aid kit here, and water here.’ He pointed them out to her when they were both safely strapped in. ‘And we have a radio as well as a satellite phone, should we need them. There’s also a tracking device on the Jeep, so that we know where we are and my people know too.’
A frisson of fear mixed with Casey’s excitement. Her fantasies were left behind as she faced the realities of the desert. Raffa was warning her that they were going into dangerous terrain where anything could happen. She had prepared well. She had even taken a first aid course