Page 6 of The Sheikh's Desert Princess

Eva shrugged. "I don't know. Give people a chance to understand you."

His gaze became hard and steady. "I don't need anyone to understand anything I do," he snapped.

Eva took a small step back. She'd felt the force of that statement. She'd definitely touched a raw nerve, she told herself.

Riaz sighed and seemed to regain his composure. He lifted a hand to his chest, a gesture of supplication, even of regret at his outburst.

"I must beg your humble pardon, Miss Braddon. I spoke with unnecessary harshness. It was unbecoming of me."

Eva nodded her head once, but really didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure he was being genuine.

He paused for a moment appearing to consider his next words. "If you would honor me, I would be delighted if you would grace me with your presence for the evening meal."

Riaz turned and gestured toward the tent which stood in front of the line of others. The largest tent. The most prominent one.

Of course, she told herself. His would take pride of place before others.

Eva glanced at the sheikh. "Okay," she said curtly.

He seemed pleased, but then he turned quickly and started to walk away from her. He paused and turned around. "The meal will be served at sundown," he said. "You know where I am."

"Indeed I do, Sheikh Al Shirah," she responded.

He smiled. "Please. Call me Riaz. It is so much more civilized if we are on first name terms, don't you agree, Eva?"

Was he teasing her? It certainly felt like it.

"Until sundown, Riaz," she replied.

And then he walked away. She watched him until he entered his tent, closing the large flap behind him. There was a flurry of activity amongst what was obviously his retinue of servants, she supposed.

Eva turned away and breathed out a sigh, feeling all the tension drain from her body.

So this was the sheikh of the desert?

Tonights meal promised to be very interesting.

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