“Can you send some men out to the main entrance?” Katharine asked. “My driver is still there and my luggage is in the car. If you could have them install me in the same quarters I stayed in last time that would be satisfactory.”
She put on her best regal princess voice. She was a terrible liar. Always had been. Her eyes gave her away. Fortunately Kahlah didn’t seem to be paying attention to her eyes.
Kahlah looked unsure, but Katharine knew that the other woman wouldn’t dare question her word, not in front of her. Katharine felt like a first-class heel taking advantage of her as she was, but it was for the greater good.
Certainly not for my good, which must mean I’m not being selfish at least.
“Would you like me to direct you to your quarters, Princess?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. But don’t worry about my luggage. Have my things sent at the convenience of the staff. I don’t wish to throw off anyone’s schedules.”
She’d brought enough clothing and essentials for an indefinite stay, because one thing she’d known for certain when she left home that morning: she was going to succeed. No matter what it took.
She was a princess who couldn’t rule. One who had resigned herself to having little value beyond the light charity work she’d thrown herself into over the past couple of years. But this, this was big. This was her chance to change the course of things.
To be something more than beauty and a royal lineage.
“But of course, it is no trouble.”
“I very much appreciate it.” Katharine caught herself twisting the large sapphire ring on her right hand, nerves and guilt making her twitchy. She put her hands resolutely back at her sides. Princesses did not twitch.
Kahlah extended her arm. “This way, Princess.”
Katharine walked next to Kahlah, looking everywhere but at the other woman. She busied herself with memorizing her surroundings, the route they were taking.
There was no matching the palace in the capital city of Kadim for opulence. Every surface made from glimmering marble, trimmed in brushed gold, the floor a glossy mosaic of jasper, jade and obsidian.
It didn’t glitter in the same way it had five years ago. But it was still a testament of wealth and craftsmanship, the finest the country had to offer, she was certain.
A good thing. Because if the she was going to tempt the Beast of Hajar’s wrath, she might as well do it while surrounded in luxury.
“What the hell is going on?” Zahir growled when he walked into the main area of the palace to discover a procession of suitcases being brought in.
There were trunks as tall as he was, large square cases and small leather bags.
The porter stopped in his tracks and looked in Zahir’s direction, though not at him. They never did. “We’re bringing in Princess Katharine’s belongings, as directed, Sheikh Zahir.”
“Directed by who?” he asked, ignoring the strange sort of cold feeling that accompanied a breach of his personal space. A loss of control.
The man edged away from Zahir, his nerves palpable. “By Princess Katharine.”
Zahir didn’t let the man finish his sentence before he turned and stormed out of the entry chamber and went toward the women’s quarters. Of course, for all he knew she had gone and installed herself in his room.
In his bed.
His body tightened at the thought. A near alien sensation, one that was only half-remembered at this point in time. No, she wouldn’t do that. Not even she was so bold. Or so perverse. As a woman would have to be to pursue a night in his bed.
He saw one of the maids slipping out of one of the bedchambers, closing the door behind her before she rushed off in the opposite direction, acting as though she hadn’t seen him. She probably had. But even the staff tried to avoid him when possible.
He approached that door and pushed it open. And there she was, standing in the center of the room, her pale strawberry-gold hair loose around her shoulders now. Her simple blue dress, belted at the waist, was demure enough, and yet, the way it skimmed her lush curves easily set fire to a man’s imagination.
Especially when that man’s imagination had been left to dry up for so many years.
“What exactly are you doing here, latifa?” he asked, the word beauty escaping his lips before he had a chance to think better of it. Because, as simple as that, she was beauty. She embodied it. It was a shame that the desert withered beauty, the intensity too much for anything so delicate and soft.
She turned to look at him, green eyes icy. Perhaps she was not soft. Though she looked as though she would be to the touch. Her skin pale like cream, her curves lush.
His body stirred. His gut tightened. It had been a long time since a woman had affected his body like this. Since he had been affected in almost any way. Any way beyond the endless loop of torment that seemed to play on repeat inside of him.
“I’m staying,” she said, her neck craned, her expression haughty.
“I told you to get out.”
“Of your office.”
“Of the country. And you knew what I meant.”
She folded her arms. “I’m afraid that’s not acceptable.”
He moved to her and he saw her shrink slightly, her shoulders tucking in just a fraction. She wasn’t immune to him, to his face, the ugliness that ravaged his looks, no matter how confident and unaffected she tried to pretend to be.
Her scent caught hold of him, light and flowery. Feminine. As he’d been reminded just a moment before, even the maids stayed far away from him. How long had it been since he’d been so close to a woman? It had been before everything, he was certain of that.
“What isn’t acceptable is you parking your pretty royal ass where it’s not welcome,” he growled, using crude words to intimidate, since his looks alone hadn’t done the job. Most people shrank away when they saw him, fear evident on their faces. Not Katharine.
She arched one pale eyebrow, her expression placid. “Compliments will not move me, I’m afraid.”
Any fear and uncertainty she’d shown had been momentary, and now she met him face on, her gaze unflinching, her posture straight. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened, either. His staff avoided looking at him too closely if they could help it. And his people … they didn’t seem interested in having him as a public figurehead. So long as he kept things moving.
His looks bolstered his reputation, or perhaps it was the other way around. Either way, rumors of their sheikh, scarred, possibly mad, kept the majority of them from wanting him to make public appearances. Those who did, who had attached some sort of idea of him being beyond mortal, a savior of some sort, they were the fools. And they were too afraid to approach him, too. Either one suited his purposes. It kept people out, and it allowed him to rule from within his palace.
It was not his people he set out to intimidate, but anyone who might try to attack them again. So far, it had worked.
But Katharine the Great didn’t seem to care. She was all prickles, ice and confidence. Standing in his home as though it was her domain.
It was time to make the most of his beastly reputation.
“You want marriage, Katharine?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “You want to be my woman?” He drew closer to her, reached a hand out and ran his finger along one pale, petal-soft cheek. She was like silk. He wanted to touch more of her. All of her. He squashed the impulse. He had denied, no, he had been absent any of those desires for five years. It wouldn’t hurt him to ignore them a while longer. “You want to warm my