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your pardon?”
    George eyed him strangely . “I asked if you
want to hold
off filming the crowd scenes until the end. Then you won’t have to haul the
horses and extras in and have them all standing around and waiting for
days.”
    “ Oh.” Lord, he had to concentrate. What was
the matter with him? “Sure. That’s what I’d
planned.”
    “ Good
idea,” Christina murmured.
    Sensing a deeper meaning in the two words, Martin peered at her . He took note of the
half smile on her face. Was that an ironic smile? Did she know what he’d been thinking
about?
    As he reached up and began tugging on his favorite tress, Martin told
himself not to be ridiculous. Christina Mayhew might be pretty. And she
might be
smart. But she could not read minds. Besides, if she’d read his
recent thoughts, she’d have slapped his face. Probably sicced her grandmother
on him .
    He decided to pretend he hadn’t allowed his mind to wander. “Yes.”
After clearing his throat and swallowing the lump in it he went
on . “While George and his crew are putting this thing together, we’ll film the desert shots.”
    “ Right.” Christina was all business now “I’ve
read the story line a couple of times.” She looked at
Martin and
grinned. “Are you going to give us camel - riding lessons?”
    He grinned back, happy to have his thoughts diverted onto this innocent
and amusing track. “Yup. I’ve got a fellow coming to Indio in a couple of
days. He’s
going to teach you and Pablo all about riding camels.”
    “ Pablo.” Christina grimaced. “I hope he falls
off a
camel and breaks his arm.”
    “ Good God, Christina, don’t even say such
a thing!” Martin laughed, but he didn’t think it was funny.
    “ You don’t know what that man can get up to
with his arms, or you wouldn’t be so quick to wish him good
health.”
    Martin sat up with a jerk, shocked. “What has he done? I swear,
Christina, if he ever so much as—” He broke off, realizing he was going to
offer to kill Pablo Orozco if Christina asked him
to.
    He was losing his mind. He had to be. Martin Tafft had never
entertained violent impulses in his life until this minute. What’s more, he’d
always believed that men who leapt to violent defense of women were more often than not
only showing off. He hadn’t—until now—realized how absolutely pure
such defensive urges could be.
    Christina laid a hand on his a rm , and
his whole body relaxed. “I didn’t mean it Martin. Don’t worry about Orozco. I can
take care of myself with that lout. He’s a pussycat. He only thinks he’s a
sleek panther.”
    Grandmother Mayhew offered one of her most derisive snorts. “I’ll hit him with my cane if he so
much as tries
to get near my granddaughter.”
    With a laugh, Christina turned to her grandmother. “ Not while the cameras are cranking, please, Gran. If you hit him every
time he touches me while they’re filming, we’ll never get this picture in
the can.”
    At the image of Orozco pawing Christina in Egyptian Idyll , Martin’s palms started sweating, his skin itched, and his head
buzzed. He had to get over this, and soon, or he’d be fit for the loony bin
in no time at
all.
     
    Christina eyed herself in the mirror and turned slowly, trying to
figure out what was wrong with the image she saw reflected there. Well, sure,
it was idiotic , but there was something else the
matter, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it
was.
    “ Good God, you look like a nymph from the
South Seas .”
    She wheeled around, startled, and saw Martin standing beside the
costumer, frowning urgently at her. She looked down at her so-called Egyptian
gown. “By
heavens, you’re right, Martin. I couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with
it, but I think you got it right off. It does look South-Seasy, doesn’t
it?”
    He didn’t return her happy smile, and Christina guessed he took
these things more seriously than she did. Which, she supposed, was a good
thing. After all,