A soft cry came from deep inside her, a gasp for breath. Her head fell back, exposing her neck. He pressed small intense kisses along her throat, sending sparks up and down her body. He caressed her body, whispering words of tenderness in the ancient dialect of Qais before suckling the tender flesh of her earlobes. His hands moved against her bare arms, cupping the full breasts that strained toward him beneath the fabric.
How long had she desired this? How long had she told herself she would never feel this way again—that at twenty-nine she was too old, too used-up, too numb to ever feel such pleasure? How long had she told herself she should settle for being useful, for earning money, for trying to be a good daughter, a good sister, a good wife?
Hands in her hair, Kareef whispered ancient words of longing and tenderness against her skin. Around them, she was dimly aware of dappled moonlight through the dark waving silhouettes of palm trees, of the stars scattered across the violet night. They were entwined in each other.
Kareef. The only one who’d ever made her feel such explosive joy. The only one who’d made her feel the night was magic, and life as infinite as the stars above her.
Opening her eyes, she stared at him. She saw the new tiny crinkles at his eyes, the way his shoulders had broadened with muscle. He’d grown into his full strength, with a warrior’s posture and brutal power.
But his smile hadn’t changed. His voice hadn’t changed.
His kiss hadn’t changed.
As he lowered his mouth to hers, every inch of her skin sparked with awareness, as if there were a magnetic attraction between them. Pulling them together. Forcing them apart.
Everything else might have altered in their lives, but somehow in his embrace, time stood still. She was sixteen again. They were in love, in longing, full of faith for the future.
That feeling was the most dangerous thing of all.
She shuddered, and with all her strength, she pushed him away.
“I can’t,” she choked out. Above them, she could hear only the waving palm fronds, the sigh of the wind, the plaintive cries of night birds. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Kareef’s voice was barely more than a growl in the darkness. “I am the one to blame. I wanted you then.” Reaching down, he caressed her cheek and whispered, “I want you now.”
The timbre of his low voice, sharp and deep, caused a seismic shift inside her, breaking her apart in bits like the emeralds hacked from Qusani mines beneath the earth. Gleaming facets and chinks of her soul scattered beneath his touch.
She closed her eyes as she felt his rough fingertips against her cheek. She felt his thumb slide lightly across her sensitive lower lip. Her mouth parted, her body ached, from her nipples down her belly and lower still.
“I will make you a wife, Jasmine,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “I will make you a mother.”
Her eyes flew open. He was looking down at her with intensity, his face so boyishly handsome it took her breath away. As teenagers, they’d had many innocent trysts in this very garden so long ago, in another life. But here in the warmth of the desert night, with the spice of the air sifting the salt from the sea, anything seemed possible.
“What do you mean?” she said in shock, searching his eyes.
“If Umar Hajjar is the man you want to marry,” he said, “I will not stop you. I will give you away at the wedding myself.”
A lump of pain rose in her throat. Oh. “You will?”
His sensual lips spread into a half smile, his eyes heavy with desire. “But not yet.”
She trembled.
From a distance she heard a servant calling for the king. She tried to pull her hand away. “I have to go.”
The cell phone in his hip pocket started to buzz. Even here in the forbidden garden, they were not completely alone. But he ignored it. As she tried to pull away, he tightened his hand on hers. “Come with me where no one can reach us. Come with me to the desert.”
She shook her head desperately. “I have no reason to go anywhere with you!”
He pulled her close against his chest, looking down at her. His face was inches from her own and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. He looked down at her, brushing tendrils of hair off her face.
“Are you sure?” he said in a low voice. “Absolutely no reason to be alone with me?”
“Yes,” she breathed, hardly able to know what she was saying. “No.”
He suddenly leaned back on his hip. “Surely you’re not afraid?”
Terrified was more like it, but she would never admit that in a million years. “I’m not afraid of you. I’ve never been afraid of you!”
“So there’s no reason to refuse. We’ll leave tomorrow.”
When he touched her, she had a difficult time concentrating. “Why—why would you take me to the desert?”
He gave her a slow-rising smile. “You’re under my…protection. I take you as my duty.”
She stared at that sensual smile. How could he be so cruel? Didn’t he realize how desire tormented her?
No, how could he? His bed was likely filled with a new woman every night.
As he stroked her cheek, she looked up at him with pleading eyes. “No,” she choked out. “I won’t go.”
“I can’t divorce you unless we go to the desert,” he said quietly, looking down at her. “The jewel is there.”
She blinked. The emerald. Of course they needed that for their divorce.
And to think she’d actually imagined he was going to whisk her off to the desert for some kind of seduction. Ridiculous. Even if Kareef wanted her, he wouldn’t take a long journey across the country just to seduce the woman he’d abandoned years ago. Not when half the women of this city were eagerly begging for the new king to sample their charms!
She truly had lost her mind to think she’d be that special to him. But still—the idea of being alone with him frightened her. “You have so many diplomatic duties here for your coming coronation,” she said. “Surely you can send someone to get it?”
“There are some things a man prefers to do himself,” he said evenly. “Even if he is king.” He raised a dark eyebrow. “And I’m taking you with me.”
She licked her lips. “All…all right.”
She couldn’t leave any question mark that might cast doubt on the legality of her new marriage to Umar. What choice did she have?
A slightly hysterical bubble of laughter escaped her. She could just imagine her father’s face if he found out that she was married to the king!
“What is making you smile?” Kareef demanded.
“I was just imagining my father’s face if I told him we’d been married for the last thirteen years. Do you think he’d find that respectable enough?”
Kareef paused, then laughed with her in a deep baritone, his eyes bright. “And Hajjar would find a way to incorporate the royal Qusani coat of arms onto his flag, or at least his business card.”
For a moment, they grinned at each other.
Then Jasmine’s