Those high white wigs would have suited you.”
“I’m glad you think so.” She was contentedly running the sponge over her neck and shoulders. “You do have a passion for bubbles, don’t you? It’s going to take you a long time to rinse all the soap out of my hair. I bet you spent hours in the tub playing with your toys when you were a kid.”
“We were allowed precisely seven minutes in the showers at the orphanage. No baths. No rubber ducks,” he said matter-of-factly. He was gently rubbing the shampoo into her hair. “It wasn’t considered efficient with a mob of hellions like us.”
She felt the tears sting her eyes and blinked them away determinedly. “And were you the hellion they thought you?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “I was well on my way to reform school when I decided to join the army and see the world.” His hands momentarily paused. “The only part of the world I saw on that tour of duty was Nam, and it wasn’t a very pretty world.” His fingers slowly renewed their massage, but his voice was abstracted. “But I learned to survive in it. I was always a survivor. If I had any special talent, it was the ability to adapt and make situations work for me.” His hands fell away from her and his voice was suddenly brisk. “I
“You’re very defensive,” she said softly. “And you shouldn’t be. Not with me. I know the kind of man you are. Whatever you did, it was in order to survive.” She drew a deep breath. “I understand about surviving.”
“Do you?” His voice was oddly choked. “Yes, I think you do.” There was a short, poignant silence before he spoke again with deliberate lightness. “Hell, you’ve certainly managed to survive any number of hazards since I came upon the scene. Hassan, scorpions, even me. I’d say that definitely qualifies you as a survivor.” He was standing abruptly. “Now, why don’t we see how good you are at surviving”-he lowered his voice to a melodramatic hiss-“the attack of the killer soap bubbles. Go ahead and rinse your hair beneath that faucet while I get you a towel.” He strode around the tub and across the room toward the louvered doors of a linen closet beside the shower stall.
He seemed to take a terribly long time choosing a towel, Zilah thought in puzzlement as she rinsed her hair thoroughly and tried to get as much of the foam as she could from her body. He kept his back to her as he went aimlessly through the stack of terry-cloth towels.
“I’m ready to get out.”
“I only hope I’m ready to get you out,” Daniel murmured beneath his breath as he yanked a white bath sheet from the pile in front of him. His face was set as he strode back toward her, unfolding the towel. She started to rise but had not even reached a standing position before she was enveloped in the terry-cloth sheet and lifted from the tub. There was
“I know this is terribly inconvenient for you,” she said falteringly. “I promise you won’t have to do it again. I’m sure I’ll be able to manage on my own tomorrow.”
“And have me worried out of my skull about you?” He placed her on the bed and covered her with the satin sheet. “You’re right. We’re going to have to work something else out. I can’t go through this every day. I’m not cut out to be a lady’s maid.”
Those foolish tears were misting her eyes again. It was stupid to feel hurt at his rejection. She tried to smile. “Well, you did an exceptionally good job, even if you did dislike it. It was very kind of you.”
“I did a lousy job,” he said bluntly. “And there’s nothing kind about me. I told you I was a survivor.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But I don’t think I could survive another session like this. I’ve got to talk to Philip about getting you a maid until you’re fit again.”
“There’s no reason to disrupt the sheikh’s household.” She lifted her chin. “And no reason for you to have to take care of me. Your responsibility ended when you brought me to Sedikhan.” She met his eyes steadily. “You mustn’t think you owe me anything, Daniel. I have no right to demand anything of you.”
A variety of emotions were chasing across Daniel’s face. Amusement, exasperation, and a fleeting something that might have been tenderness.
“Oh, hell, here we go again.” He plopped down on the bed beside her and gathered her hands in his. “We’d better get this in the open right now. I’m no good at beating around the bush.” He looked down at her hands clasped in his, a frown creasing his brow. “Look, what happened in the cave was a mistake. We both know that.” His thumb was absently rubbing the delicate blue veins of her wrist. “I just want you to know that there’s no danger of it ever happening again. I’d like to start out with a clean slate, if it’s all right with you. I’m not always a savage.”
“You were never savage with me,” she said huskily. She was glad he wasn’t looking at her. It gave her a moment to absorb the pain his words were knifing into her. She shouldn’t have been surprised. She had suspected that the experience in the cave had meant more to her than to Daniel.
His lips twisted. “You’re very generous, but I was there, remember? I made a mistake, and I’m just lucky you don’t hate my guts.” He glanced up at her, a grave expression on his face. “I don’t know much about finesse, but I do know about friendship. I’ll make you a good friend if you’ll let me.” His voice was gruff. “I don’t have many real friends. It meant a hell of a lot to me when you said you wanted my friendship. I hope the offer still stands.”
“It still stands,” she said softly. It wasn’t what she had hoped for but it was better than nothing. If she worked hard at making that friendship beautiful, it might even be enough. She should know by now that life seldom handed out any prizes. “I’ll make you a good friend too, Daniel.”
“I know you will.” Still holding her gaze with his, he lifted her left palm to his lips and pressed his lips to it gently. “You’re a special lady, old friend.” He carefully lowered her hand to the bed, as if it were very fragile and might shatter. “Now, what game do you want to play? I brought Trivial Pursuit, Monopoly, and checkers.” He was leaning over her, reaching for the pile of boxes he had tossed on her bed.
“It doesn’t matter. Anything you like.” Her attention had been caught by a long, jagged scar on Daniel’s left thigh. It started above his knee and disappeared beneath the frayed edge of his cutoff jeans. “Where did you get that?”
“What?”
Her finger began to trace the puckered scar. He flinched as if she’d burned him. Her eyes flew to his face. “Is it still tender?”
He shook his head. “You just surprised me.” His voice was gritty. “It’s an old knife wound. I got it years ago.”
Her fingers followed the path of the scar up his thigh. “It looks as though it was very deep.” His thigh was so hard and muscular. It was growing even harder under her stroking finger. Was the memory of how he had received that wound causing the tension she felt in him? “Has it healed properly?”
“I think so. It hasn’t bothered me since then.” The muscles of his thigh were becoming knotted with tension. “Until now.”
“Now?” she asked. “Perhaps carrying me all that distance…”
“No.” He suddenly brushed her hand away and jumped to his feet. “It’s fine. Would you like to see the stables and the obstacle course?”
Her eyes widened. “I thought you said we were playing games today.”
“I changed my mind,” he said through his teeth. “I’m not up to a long, intimate game of Monopoly today. We’ve got to get out of here.” He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a small portable dryer. He handed it to her. “Blow your hair dry while I hustle the servants to bring the rest of your wardrobe. I particularly specified sports clothes. I hope to heaven they sent jeans and not bikinis. Philip’s women usually aren’t into sports activity outside of the bedroom.”
“But you said I was too weak to tour the stables today.”
“You are. I’ll carry you.”
“But that’s ridiculous. I can wa-”
His hand covered her lips. “Zilah, stop arguing.” Suddenly he smiled with such warmth that it took her breath away. “Friends have to compromise. I’m giving you what you want, aren’t I? Now you have to yield an inch or two
