And the Desert Blooms by Iris Johansen Page B

She held out her hand politely. “How nice to see you again.” He looked almost exactly the same. His short, powerful body was perhaps a little more rotund, his blond hair a little more silver than gold, but his eyes were still crystal gray, cold and remote as a high mountain peak. “You look very well.”
    His expression remained impassive as his gaze went over her. “You haven’t changed.”
    She tried to smile. “I thought you’d say that. I have, you know.” She raised her eyes to meet his in challenge. “Were you surprised when Philip told you I was here?”
    He raised a glass of white wine to his lips. “Not at all. I always expected it. You’ve had your eye on him ever since we came to Sedikhan.”
    Not her eye, her heart. Her father had never understood that. “You don’t object to your daughter becoming the sheikh’s Khadim?”
    “Why should I?” He shrugged. “You will do as you wish. It is your nature. As long as you do not interfere with my life, I’ll have no quarrel with you.”
    She felt the freezing cold touch her. Why could he still hurt her like this? She tried to laugh. “I assure you that if Philip kicks me out I’ll try not to do anything that might influence him against you.” She took a sip of her champagne cocktail. “And I promise you that I won’t come crying to you. I know how you value your comfortable lifestyle here in Sedikhan.”
    “I would appreciate that.” He permitted himself a small smile. “It would be foolish to pretend an attachment that never existed. Neither one of us ever needed anyone else. We were both very self-sufficient.”
    She lifted her chin. “No, I never needed you. I found that out a long time ago.”
    “You were always a bright child,” he said objectively. “It was a shame you were so lacking in discipline.”
    Her hand tightened on her glass. “Yes, wasn’t it?” Her lips felt numb as she smiled brightly. “I made your life quite uncomfortable. I’m sorry about that.” She put her glass down on the rosewood table beside her with careful precision. “And now. if you’ll excuse me, I think I see Philip signaling me.”
    “By all means don’t keep him waiting.” Madchen moved aside politely. “Perhaps we’ll talk again.”
    She hoped not. How she hoped not! She was moving hurriedly across the room to Philip, conscious only of the need to escape. Philip’s back was turned to her, and he didn’t realize she was by his side until she slipped her arm into his. He broke off in the middle of a sentence to look down at her. His swift gaze took in her pale face and overbright eyes.
    “All right?” he asked quietly.
    Her smile was brilliant. “Of course I’m all right. I was just lonely.”
    His hand reached over to cover the hand that rested on his sleeve. “You’re cold.”
    The whole world was cold. “My cocktail glass was frosted.” She moistened her lips. “I’m fine. Really.”
    His lips tightened. “Perhaps we’d better go in to dinner.”
    “That would be a good idea,” she said, smiling at Philip’s bearded business associate with dazzling sweetness. “I’m starved, aren’t you?”
    During the meal she was conscious of Philip’s eyes on her from the far end of the long table. She tried to make her earlier claim of hunger appear valid, but she was barely able to choke down a few bites. She gave up finally and concentrated on keeping up the appearance of gaiety instead. Smiling, chatting with the guests at her end of the table, she burned with a charm and vivacious energy that lit up the dining room. As long as she talked, she wouldn’t be able to think.
    It was the same in the library after dinner, as mint tea, coffee, and conversation ended the evening. She even managed to give a bright, meaningless smile to her father as she stood at the door with Philip, saying polite good nights to the guests.
    Then it was over and everyone was gone. She turned away from the door, the smile still painted on her lips. “I