"Only because we have to. I am still not happy you think so little of yourself." His tone had hardened.

Confused, she searched him out. "Sorry? So little of myself? How?"

He reached up and fingered hair from her cheek, where it curled against her skin, then trailed down her cheek, watching then rested on her slightly parted lips. "Thinking another life is more important than your own." Her lips parted against his finger, she hadn't thought about it, just reacted. "As if I would swap you for anyone else." 

Her frown deepened, not sure how to take that. As if she belonged to him, her hand pushing him back and wiggling free as his hand fell away. Or was it, he allowed her to go? heading back inside, followed by him. "Now what have I said wrong?"

Folding her arms, she turned around. "I didn't say you had said anything wrong."

"No, you just show your disapproval. Very good at it," he noted dryly. Resting more on one leg than another, hip out, she eyed him.

"I didn't realise whatever I did or thought would concern you."

"Everything you do concerns me," he stated that sent her heart racing, not sure she liked that. Sounded far too personal for her liking. They didn't know each other.

"Well, it shouldn't," she miffed. "It's not like you owe me, oh, that's right, you bought me!"

Rolling his eyes, he waved that away. "We won't discuss that again. I bought your freedom that is all."

"Oh, really, and I am here for what then?"

"I thought that was obvious," she eyed him off closely. Lately, she wasn't sure about anything. He closed the distance between them, holding her gaze with a deep burning one, expelling the air out of her lungs, chest heaving. 

Reaching out he touched her cheek again. "Your sister."

Air sucked back into her lungs, head going down, hair falling forward, stepping back. "Of course." His hand fell away.

"Things are already in place Claire. I just need to know more about what happened to you."

"You want me to relive the worst time of my life?" She looked up.

"Before that, I need to know your movements. The same ones I gather your sister did." Frowning, she turned away, not sure about anything any more, clutching at her arms tighter. 

Daniel had said to give him what he wanted, then move out, but how could she, when she was stuck in the middle of nowhere? She needed to know where she stood in all this. Taking another deep breath, she turned back.

"If I give you what you want, what happens to me?"

"To you?" Frowning, he shook his head, crossed his arms and glanced across sideways. "Have I not already told you I would escort you home, myself?"

"When exactly?"

"When I get your sister back."

She swallowed hard. "Can you? Can you really?" She asked softly. Without a moment's hesitation, he was there, holding her in his arms, where she trembled, grabbing at him tightly.

"I will bring her back to you. I will not let you stay on this dangerous path you had taken upon yourself." Well, not all by herself, but he didn't need to know that. Yet it was such a relief to lean on someone else, who had such strong, broad shoulders.

Then there was the fact he smelt so good, of his lands, sandalwood with a touch of spice. Potent like the man. His hands splayed against her back, burning an imprint on her skin. Perhaps he was correct, who was she to do this alone? This was much better for both of them. Incredibly dangerous as she found out. She was lucky to come out of this unscathed. Roughened around the edges, apart from that. This was the safest she had felt since she had arrived in the Middle East.

"So we do this together." She ran her fingers over the shirt's front buttons, following with her eyes. The shirt outlined his magnificent physique. How can someone be more so beautiful, just what the doctor ordered and she seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms.

"Yes, however, for now, I think you need to rest. You have been a very busy girl."

"Not actually a girl," she added breathlessly. "Try twenty-five."

"Hmm, much better than nineteen." He eased back, looking down upon her. "How old is Fleur?" Slowly she raised her gaze.

"Nineteen. A protected, sheltered nineteen-year-old."

His hand stroked her back, keeping her close to him. "Why was she in the Middle East?"

Her brows furrowed down, she had to search her memories of what she had been told. "Spread her wings. Visiting family contacts, so under their care as she explored a new country. Fleur wasn't the most adventurous girl," as she had been informed.

"Not like her sister." She shook her head in denial. So far removed from the truth.

"I might have seen more of the world; however, I'm not that adventurous either."

"I beg to differ on that. What you did was courageous, however,..."

"Stupid," she offered. "Reckless."

"I don't believe that of you Claire Dono..." she placed fingers against his lips capturing his dark intense gaze.

"Just Claire. Please, just call me Claire." Because that was who she was. Claire. Always Claire. Reliable Claire. Dependable Claire. Trained Claire for self-protection, but who was the real Claire? She had no idea, who she really was.

His eyes warmed, and his lips curled against her touch. "As you wish, you will only call me Khalid."

Fingers falling she laughed. "I only know you as Khalid, so that doesn't count."

"I am Khalid...." Again her fingers were back on his lips.

"That's all I need to know," she promised. Keep it simple. 

The less she knew less the guilt. 

No matter what she couldn't involve her family. 

She would protect them no matter the cost. Her decision, her cost. A price to be paid. Is that what he had meant? Looking up into his beautiful eyes, connecting, feeling, yet, she had to keep a part of herself back. 

"Thank you, Khalid." She eased back, pulling down a wall between them.

"You will rest for now," he stated then was once more standing alone in the main room.

****

Jerking awake, a scream lodged in her tight throat, covered in a fine sweat. The strongest memory of chloroform burned the back of her throat, kicking off the covers. Claire jerked out of the bed, stumbling in the dark, tripping, grabbing at the bedpost, and clung tightly, sinking towards the floor as she caught her breath. 

Eyes darted around the shadows in the room, telling herself over and over, no one was in her room.

Eventually, she stood on unsteady legs and went to turn on the light, filling the room with light, and went around, turned on all the lights in the main living area, too edgy to go back to sleep, so curled up into a chair, rubbed her arms, chilled to the bones.

Suddenly the doors burst open and Khalid was there, wearing a bisht over black loose pants. Leaping to her feet, she flew across to be taken into his arms. "What is wrong, habibti?" Beloved. 

Her hands clutched tightly onto his back, breathing him in, vaporising all memories of that burning sensation. Tenderly he caressed her back, soothing her with meaningless words until she stopped trembling. He cradled her face in his hands and made her look at him. 

"Tell me what happened."

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. "Just a flashback."

"Flashback? To what?" His features darkened. "They did not hurt you? Tell me and they would be seen to," he vowed.

"No," shaking her head, sinking back against him. "I just don't want to be alone."

"Yes, I can see that." He held her back against him with one arm, giving instructions to someone else in the room. "You are perfectly safe; no one can touch you here." Her head moved up and down his bare chest revealed by the opened bisht.

Sweeping down, Khalid scooped her up into his arms and carried over towards the oversized chair she had evacuated, where she curled up in his lap, rubbing her arm. Something had scared her, every light had been turned on, instructing Abdul the one who had called him to turn most of them off and retrieve a blanket that was placed over her, and then departed.

Khalid tugged the blanket up and over her shoulder. She seemed contented where she was, fingers stroking his chest. Didn't she realise what that did to a man? Her scent filled his senses. She was driving him crazy but had been through so much. Not that she would admit that. No, she just sucked it up and kept ongoing. It was time to stop, holding her tightly in his arms. At least she trusted him, enough to let him hold her. 

Or was so scared? 

One must never show fear.

One must be strong. Always strong. Emotions are put aside. It was like she had learnt what he had to learn to survive. Yet she had a family, then why would they let her go on such a dangerous journey? Also, he had learnt patience. She would talk to him when she was ready.

The buzzing of his phone had him holding it with one hand while holding her with his other arm, reading over the message. Shutting it down, he pressed it against his lips. Things were moving faster than he had thought. Nervous. Not so good.

"Was it about Fleur?" He glanced down into concerned sky-blue eyes.

"No, family business, mine," he added.

"Oh, of course," her lids lowered. "Sorry, you do have your own life." Clear blue eyes looked back upon him. "I hope not too serious?"

Lightly he brushed fingers across his cheek. "No, more business than personal." It was also personal, yet she still seemed so concerned. A real concern for him. That was a first. Yes, those close to him cared, yet a stranger. A foreigner, although having such a connection. "Thank you," fingers lingering.

"For what?"

"Caring. It is about the family business, about keeping it safe."

Her brows went down, sitting up straighter, leaning against his shoulder, dragging the blanket around them both. "How so?" She was so serious, eyes clear. His arm dropped down, resting his hand on her hip.

"I am the only one left. I need to make sure, we are safe."

"Only one left?" She gulped. "You lost your family?" He inclined his head. "I am so sorry," her eyes began to shimmer.

"Do not cry, habibti," his fingers brushed under her eyes. "It was a long time ago, killed in a terrible accident." She reached up and covered his hand, curling fingers around his much larger one and brought it down to hold against her heart. Heat soared through his body at the touch of her body heat through her nighty. 

He fought for control.

"That must have been so hard. How old?"

"Twelve." A silence fell between them as she took it in.

"Old enough to remember them," she stated softly, and then her brows went down. "No siblings?" He hesitated, her hand tightened around his. "Khalid?"

"No." It was the simplest answer. Her head rested back on his shoulder.

"I am so sorry for your loss. I don't know how I would have dealt with that."

"But you are Claire in a smaller way," she squeezed his hand again. "Tell me what happened."

"Nothing like you have suffered, just a stupid dream."

"More than that, you said a flashback."

She nodded. "The night they took me. I woke up and someone was hovering over my bed, then there was a strong smell. A burning smell followed by darkness." Khalid swore savagely in Arabic. It took all her strength not to flinch. "I woke up from that memory. I just don't want to be alone Khalid."

"Of course, you don't, but you need sleep. If I stay with you, would you sleep? Here or my room?"

She looked around her. "I just want to," she hesitated.

"Want to be away from the dream?" She nodded, looking up dazed. "Fine, we shall go to my apartment." Not one argument from her and he insisted on carrying her in his arms, where he laid her down upon his bed.

She wiggled under the covers of the king-sized bed, not posted like hers, but it was upon a raised platform with a massive padded bed head. Khalid went to see about closing down before joining her, lowering under the covers, only wearing loose black pants he normally didn't wear. Big sky-blue eyes peered up at him from the pillows. 

Doubts spread across her face.

With a soft glowing light behind them, he offered his arm and she was across, snuggling up against him. "You are safe here Claire, no one would take you away from me. They wouldn't dare," he promised. "Lights?" She shook her head, and turned them off by remote control, replaced with natural moonlight from the ceiling to floor glass sliding doors that opened to the balcony and courtyard, below.

She nestled closer, hand on his chest as her body pressed against his side. A peace settled over him. One he hadn't felt in a long time. She trusted him, no matter what she did. Watching as her eyes close, hearing her shallow breathing, knowing she was asleep, where he joined her, without a troubled mind in a very long time.

Stirring awake, Claire stretched lazily, then stilled as she felt solid warm flesh beside her, eyes flying open, then relaxed as memories flooded back. She was in Khalid's bed, sighing. He had been there when she needed him the most, rubbing her leg up against him, head on his shoulder, hand pressed up against his heart.

True to his word, he was there for her. In more ways than thought. Stirring, the arm around her waist tightened. Always protecting her. Her desert warrior. Maybe it was time to believe in him. 

Apart from one thing. 

It wasn't her secret to tell.

Stretching against him, she made a contented sound. "Good morning, beloved," he whispered in Arabic, warming her heart, yet couldn't answer him. So wiggled against him.

"Khalid?" She asked softly.

"Did you sleep well?" He swapped to English.

"Much better," she admitted, as they rolled together, holding each other that felt so right. "Thank you, Khalid, I really needed you."

"I am here for you anytime, anyplace, you must know that," he breathed against her hair.

"I do now," she could trust him with her life. Hadn't he already proven that even before he knew who she was? Guilt washed through her, lips parting, mind racing. Don't blow your cover, yet she was no spy or trained in the forces. She was just a civilian. "Khalid," she started.

"Hmm," came back lazily as he stroked her back with his fingers, strumming warmth through her, security, protected. A different kind of protection that didn't stifle as her family did. They loved her, probably too much and she needed to breathe, even if she had the freedom to come and go as she pleased, she was still tied to the family business.

Lifting a hand, bedding falling away from his shoulder, he traced fingers down her cheek; drawing up her gaze, into his darkened softened ones. "What did you want to tell me?"

There was so much she could tell him, but did she dare to do so? Lips parting, just as his phone rang that he reached for and answered. "Keep that thought," he told her then rolled away. Suddenly she felt cold and needed to get back to her room. Tossing back the covers she climbed out of the super-sized king-sized bed. 

Did everything have to be super-sized? "Claire?" She swung back, staring at the man in the bed, covers resting low on his hips; hand over the phone, looking bedazzling. "Where are you going?"

She pointed behind her. "Back to my room," she licked suddenly dry lips, toey. Not her usual situation.

"Give me ten minutes and I will take you back." She hesitated. 

A brow arched at her, so nodded in agreement, realising she had no idea where her room was, and pointed towards his main living room. Nodding, he went back to his call. Claire wandered out, and took everything in that was in a much grander style and size of hers. 

Mind you, her rooms were beautiful, they were toned down, compared to this.

His rooms had a full-on Islamic flavour. Archways, marble floors, floor-to-ceiling pillars at the sides before the ceiling domed high above, filled with patterned glass. Enormous Persian rugs spread across the floor. Long curled-sided backless divan provided seats. Off to the side was a large rustic table surrounded by high-backed gold embossed chairs.

Character throughout the room, even potted palms, tall, full trees to spread out draping palm leaves. Bringing the outdoors in. She went over and touched one. Real trees. There were also open archways leading out of the room, bushing aside the sheer gauze curtains in a deep purple that was soft to the touch, leading into a hallway and other rooms. 

Smaller, more intimate rooms, one was full of colour, of deep reds, blues highly decorated walls, and even one pillar was surrounded by purple cushioned seating with matching chairs and a small table between.

She sat down and took in the patterned walls and pillars even the ceiling. The floor is covered in rugs. She reached out behind her touching the pillar that was smooth, and cool to the touch. The seating underneath her was super soft and comfortable, reluctant to leave, as she went out and further down the plainer two-toned walls, approaching double doors, not an archway that she pushed open, eyes opening.

"You've got to be friggin' kidding me," her jaw dropped as she stared at the largest spa she had ever seen.

"Your language leaves a lot to be desired, Claire," Khalid noted dryly. 

Startled, she spun around towards the man, who had entered behind her, and approached the spa, where he rested his arms on the above-ground spa that was the size of a small pool.

She waved over it. "What? You have parties in there?"

"No, I usually just chill alone," he added eyeballing her. "You can join me if you want. I am very choosy who I ask."

She met him head-on. "Are you inviting me to share your bath?"

"Spa," he corrected.

"And what am I supposed to wear? I didn't bring my bathers." What was she saying?

A slow sexy smile curled his lips, eyes twinkling. "One doesn't need such things to enjoy this."

Pursing her lips, she leaned against it also, eyes narrowing, warningly. "And I thought there would be a water shortage. Isn't this a little bit over the top?"

"A man needs his downtime."

"Downtime? Really? Downtime with me?" She dared.

His smile grew bigger, eyes glowing with delight. "That's a plan, however, not now. It does take time to fill; we will leave that for another time."

She eyed him closely. "How long do you think I am staying?"

He shrugged. "As long as it takes."

Sadness filled her eyes. "Does Fleur have the time?" Shaking her head, she headed out of the room, only to have her hand caught and stopped.

"Everything that can be done is being done. Trust me on this Claire," she looked up with troubled eyes.

"How is this going to keep her safe?"

He guided her towards him, cradling her face in his hand, tilting her face towards him and as his head lowered. "Do not torture yourself over such things. As far I know she is safe for now."

Her eyes widened. "You know something? Who were you talking to? What do you know?" She reached out to grab at his bisht only to touch flesh that sent shots of pleasure through her.

Releasing her face, his arm went around her waist, gathering her closer so they were pressed up against each other, tightly pressed against him, body to body, with heat soaring through them.

"We will talk about this later after you have recovered from your ordeal."

Shaking her head, she rested her forehead against his bare chest, breathing him in as if drawing strength from him and straightened, stepping back to be released.

"I am fine. All I care about is getting Fleur back untouched and home," her jaw clenched in determination, she couldn't be distracted by him and his sinful sexy form. He was her catnip, which would never do. She had to be stronger than this, crossing her arms. "Can I go back to my rooms now?" She asked in a tight voice, fingers digging into her arms.

Light fingers stroked her cheek, drawing up a troubled gaze into his deep steady ones. "When are you going to trust me, Claire?" Her arms were still crossed, placing a barrier between them.

"I do trust you, Khalid." It's just she didn't know him, realising she had spent the night in a stranger's bed. 

One she had practically seen naked, heat flooded her cheeks, deepening as his thumb caressed across, holding her gaze. His dark head dipped closer, hovering near her lips, his warm breath tingling her lips, parting on their own accord, closing her eyes, tilting her face towards him, as his hand fell away. 

Compelled as if being pulled by an invisible string, her arms fell away, resting hands on his hips.

"I won't let anything happen to you or your sister," he promised, placed a kiss on her cheek and then straightened. Her eyes flew open, hands falling away as she stepped back. "I will show you back to your room, breakfast has been ordered, so you have half an hour to have a shower," he glanced at his phone.

Dazed, she followed, disappointment heavy in her belly, even if her cheek burned from his touch. What the hell was that her fuzzy brain tried to understand what just happened. Then told herself off, arms folded again.

What was she thinking? Nearly kissing a stranger. It had to be this place. It was doing her head in. A shower and something to eat was exactly what she needed to put some distance between them. As for Fleur and her peace of mind, she had to believe that she was safe. 

He seemed to be a man of honour.

"You have very nice rooms," she stated as she joined him at the double doors that led the way out. "But I can't help wondering, do you really need all this space?"

"These are my private quarters, shall we?" He opened the door to leave. She went through the open doorway. "Quarters? I thought you owned all this."

"And you ask an awful lot of questions," he noted dryly, walking ahead and she trotted behind, as they went down through the corridors, out of his apartment, weaving through a maze of corridors. So all on one level, yet massive. A higher level than the ground floor.

"What is this place?"

"A retreat."

"Oh, are we at some sort of resort?" That would explain it, yet where was everyone else?

"No, a private retreat."

"So it's just us, you, me and your small army."

He shot her a sideways glance. "Why do you say that?"

"What? The men, the campsite, this place," her lips pursed together. "Just who are you? You had men that follow you. Some sort of Sheikh to afford this?" She waved her hand around.

"Own," he corrected.

"I guess that would explain how you can afford to buy me."

"Your freedom."

"Aren't Sheikhs leaders?"

"Not always, depends on where you come from. Does it really matter?"

Approaching her room, he opened the door, while she looked up at him. "I think it does." She walked in, where he closed the door behind her to stand alone in her room, a long way from him. Not even sure she could find him again, heading towards the bedroom, where she stopped and stared at the made-up bed. 

Like last night hadn't happened.

Back on his phone, Khalid strode back towards his office, frustrated by the whole situation. So close to tasting those sinful tempting lips and she still didn't trust him fully. And far too many questions for his liking, yet liked her mind and how it worked. 

She was such a free spirit and spoke her mind.

This ache inside of him, intensified every time he was around her, especially last night in his bed, yet had promised to keep her safe. He never went back on his word. His honour and she deserved his respect. 

There also was an innocence about her. 

Not a woman of the world at all. 

He had met so many women from all walks of life. This one was different. Fresh. Strong. Dependable. Fighter. Also vulnerable. He would bet she didn't show that side often. They had a connection. She just had to accept it. At the moment she was fighting it.

Dropping into his seat, he tapped his desk with fingertips, as he swivelled around and looked out the window. As the morning sun began to rise higher light slowly spread across the room, while he waited for one more call. 

Then it will be in place. 

The question was what he was going to do about Claire and her hot and cold treatment of him.

He just wanted hot. Burning heat consumed them both. He should be concentrating on his work, swivelling back around and facing his laptop and opening it with a sigh, glancing at his watch, only to shut down.

He had a breakfast date.