CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘EXCELLENT.’

In an instant he was beside her on the seat. The scent of his skin mingled with fresh salt air and unthinkingly she breathed deep. Behind him stars winked in a black velvet sky. It should have been a night for lovers.

‘I knew you’d make the sensible decision.’

Sensible. The word was a lead weight. How sensible to marry for public opinion, for show and security? It made a sham of the vows they’d make and all she believed in.

Her melancholy thoughts shattered as Tahir took her hand and bent his head. His lips caressed the back of her hand in a courtly gesture that dragged her straight into another reality. One where the needs of her body and the sentimental hopes he’d just obliterated rose tremulously once more.

No! She’d be a fool to fall for his practised charm.

Yet the sight of his dark head bent over her hand, the pressure of his mouth, ignited feelings she couldn’t douse.

She almost sobbed her despair that even now, with her pride and heart in tatters, she responded.

She tugged her hand but his hold tightened.

Her breath hissed as he turned her hand and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the centre of her palm. To the sensitive spot she hadn’t known existed till he’d introduced her to physical pleasure.

Under dark lashes his eyes glittered, bright and knowing. Her heartbeat accelerated and her fingers itched to stroke his soft hair as she had once before.

Tahir’s tongue swirled against her skin and every nerve cell juddered. Bone-melting bliss stole through her.

She opened her mouth to object, but all that emerged was a sigh as floodgates opened on feelings, needs she’d struggled so long to suppress.

Where was her resolve? Her strength?

As if attuned to her weakness, Tahir kissed her fingers, the tender skin at her wrist, sending her pulse racing wildly out of control.

This man was dangerous.

She tugged again, surprised when he released her hand. Bright eyes met hers from mere inches away. Fear—or was it excitement?—tugged at her belly as she saw what was in his eyes.

‘No, Tahir! I don’t—’

The rest was muffled as his mouth claimed hers. Not hard, not recklessly, but with complete assurance. Their lips met, clung, meshed as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her hands wedged against his chest. She told herself to push, hard. Yet traitorously they clung, fingers spreading greedily across the deep curve of his muscles.

A sob rose in Annalisa’s throat. Frustration at his arrogance and her instant capitulation? Or relief at the absolute rightness of it? She’d craved this so long.

Her head spun crazily as he pressed close, his kiss deepening possessively. She tried to fight, to summon strength and detachment, but his passionate mouth, his deft fingers in her hair, were exquisite pleasure.

Once this ended she’d be bereft anyway. Did it matter that for a few glorious moments she succumbed? After this she’d be strong.

She leaned into him, revelling in his fervour, in the seductive power of the one man in the world who awoke her dormant longings.

She heard a growl of approval as her hands crept to his neck. He scooped her up, settling her on his lap. His intimate heat cradled her and excitement spiralled. Her heart galloped at the feel of him surrounding her even as dimly she realised she should stop him.

Tahir didn’t even break their kiss. He tucked her close, leaning her back over his arm and claiming her mouth so thoroughly her disjointed thoughts shattered.

Annalisa’s fingers tunnelled through his hair as she revelled in a kiss turned hungry and urgent.

Her body throbbed in every secret place.

When his hand slid to the neckline of her dress she arched instinctively. But the tightly sewn bodice defied him and she almost cried out in frustration.

Restlessly Tahir traced the edge of the fabric, testing, then curling his fingers around it. A shocking jolt of excitement shot through her at the idea of him ripping the material, shredding the costly silk and gold so he could caress her bare skin.

She pressed higher, silently urging him.

He cupped her breast, then arrowed in on her peaking nipple. Annalisa groaned as fire flashed. That strange ache was back again between her legs and her body shook.

It was only as she dragged in a deep breath that she realised Tahir had pulled back, ending the kiss to look at her with glittering eyes.

In this light his face seemed pared down to slashing lines. Their gasping breaths drowned the roar of the surf. She shifted and abruptly stilled as she came into contact with proof of his arousal.

His lips tilted in a knowing smile that radiated masculine satisfaction. He lowered his head to her breast.

‘No! Don’t!’ The expression on his face had cut through the glorious haze enveloping her. Harsh reality filtered in. Clumsily Annalisa pushed at his shoulders.

His mouth hovered a breathtaking centimetre from her breast. She shoved harder and he looked up from under raised eyebrows.

‘No?’ His voice curled around her like rich, dark chocolate. Pure temptation.

What was happening to her? Where was her pride? Her self-control? He’d decided to kiss her and she’d let him. Shame singed her face.

He doesn’t want you. For a couple of hours maybe. When it’s ‘convenient’.

Was this a test to see how compliant she was?

She gasped down a horrified breath. How easy it would be for him to seduce her into making this relationship more than a paper marriage. If she let him he’d tempt her into surrendering to him physically.

Presumably on the few nights when he preferred less sophisticated amusement in his bed.

Instantly strength returned to her pleasure-drugged body and she shoved harder. This time he straightened.

His eyes narrowed. In the gloom Annalisa caught a glimpse of danger in that stare. For a heartbeat she felt fear, the awareness of the hunted. Then it was gone. Tahir sat back, his hands dropping to the seat. Only the grimness around the lips hinted that she’d displeased him.

Annalisa scrabbled to her feet, reaching for a nearby trellis to keep her upright on weak knees.

‘You don’t want to kiss me?’

‘No!’

His look told her eloquently that she lied.

Stubbornly she stared back. ‘That was a mistake.’ She wished her voice was steady, without that husky edge. ‘I…’ She put a hand to her pounding heart and searched for a suitable lie. ‘I don’t want you to touch me.’

His eyes held hers, as if weighing her mood, her distress. Had he any idea how close she’d come to total capitulation?

‘As you wish.’

His words were so unexpected it took her a moment to process them. Could it really be so easy?

She didn’t wish! That was the problem. She longed for his touch, his tenderness. For a hint that he felt something for her, even if only a pale reflection of what she still felt for him. Annalisa blinked and looked away to the rolling surf. She would master her feelings.

All he felt was lust. And obligation.

‘I’ll make the wedding arrangements,’ he said, with a change of subject that left her floundering. ‘You won’t have to worry about anything other than resting.’

Could she marry him after what had just happened? Surely this proved he was even more dangerous than she’d thought.

‘I’m not sure—’

‘Be sure, Annalisa. We are marrying.’ His tone brooked no argument. ‘For the sake of the child.’

For their child. Her shoulders sagged. She had to remember they would be married for her baby, even though her body still thrummed with frustrated desire.

The fact that Tahir had taken her withdrawal so easily just proved he’d been amusing himself. He wasn’t really interested. She wasn’t his type. Their marriage would be a legality only.

‘In the circumstances it will be a small wedding. You won’t want the pomp and bother of traditional festivities.’

Annalisa’s lips curved in a mirthless smile. If she married the man of her dreams she’d adore a big wedding. But the man of her dreams was a mirage who’d been the centre of her world for a few short days. Now he was no more. The real Tahir had no interest in her except for a light amusement.

‘Annalisa? I asked if there’s anyone you want to invite.’

She turned to meet his searching look and silently shook her head.

‘No one? I know your parents are dead, but isn’t there someone to support you?’

‘Apart from my uncle?’ Annalisa swallowed a clot of bitter regret. ‘I’d rather do this alone.’ At his steady look she felt compelled to explain. ‘I was close to my grandfather but he died recently too. The rest of my family are on the far side of the country. They aren’t like Saleem, but…’

But she didn’t know how they’d react to her news. Better to break it to them after the wedding.

‘My father and I were a team. We were always busy in the community and knew everyone, but there were no really close friends.’ Except scientists and scholars scattered around the globe.

At his quizzical look she shrugged. ‘There are people I could invite, but no one close. I live in a rural area bound by tradition. It was fine for me to help my father heal people, or represent them by lobbying for services, but I was different. I dress and speak differently. I was allowed freedoms my peers weren’t.’ She breathed deep. ‘For all I was born and bred there, I never fitted in.’

A pang of familiar longing pierced her. The yearning to be wanted and appreciated for herself. Her father and her grandfather had, but they were gone.

‘You’re alone.’ Tahir’s voice held a curious note. Not gushing sympathy, but an understanding she hadn’t expected.

‘Hardly alone. I told you I’ve got cousins galore, all wanting to organise a wedding for me with some local man.’ Her words petered out. That was in the past. What would her relationship with them be now?

‘And you are marrying a local man.’

‘What about you?’ She needed to divert her thoughts. ‘Will all your family and friends be here for the wedding?’ The idea of facing resplendent royal relatives and VIPs petrified her. She was enough of an outsider already.

‘Hardly.’ The single word held a bitterness so deep she stilled.

‘But you’re the King,’ she prompted, glad to talk about him instead of herself.

‘I’m the prodigal, the outsider,’ he countered, with a twist of his lips that held no humour. ‘I haven’t been in Qusay for eleven years. Since my father banished me for scandalous behaviour.’

Banished? She hadn’t read that in the press reports.

His father. The father he’d dreamed about. The one Tahir had imagined, in his delirium, beating him.

Surely that had just been a disturbing fantasy? Yet his sombre expression distressed her.

‘You didn’t know?’ he murmured, watching her face so closely she was sure he read her every thought.

‘No.’ She couldn’t imagine being cut off from the people she loved. ‘But you must have kept in contact with your family, even if your father…’

At the look on his face her words disintegrated. Hauteur froze his features in an expression of disdain that she hated.

‘There was no contact. My brothers didn’t know where I was, and I was too busy feeding and clothing myself for a long time to make many long-distance calls. Once I got on my feet there seemed little point. The split was a fact.’

Annalisa’s head spun. He’d been exiled and completely alone since…when? Eleven years ago he’d have been only eighteen.

‘But you have money.’ She gestured helplessly. This didn’t make sense. ‘The media loves reporting your wealth.’

‘Not as much as it loves reporting my misdeeds.’ He leaned back and thrust his hand through his dark locks. Suddenly he looked unutterably weary.

‘I left with nothing.’ He rolled his shoulders as if to relieve an old stiffness. ‘I built wealth through luck at the gaming tables, a talent for finance and sheer hard work. I’m sure no one was more surprised or disappointed than my father when I prospered instead of conveniently disappearing or dying.’

It was on the tip of Annalisa’s tongue to protest. But what sort of father exiled his son? Or inspired tortured dreams even after eleven years?

She clenched her hands, wanting to reach out and soothe the pain in Tahir’s eyes, so at odds with his severe countenance. But she wasn’t naïve enough to give in to the impulse. She didn’t have the right. He wouldn’t thank her for guessing at his hurt.

Annalisa bit her tongue, wondering what else his demeanour of aloof control hid. He was a man of contradictions: demanding, arrogant, abrasive once his memory had returned. His record with women was appalling.

Yet she remembered earlier kindnesses. He’d understood her grief even when she’d fought to stifle it. She remembered his ready sympathy, the dry humour he’d used to lighten her mood when sadness overcame her.

He’d stumbled out of the desert, more concerned for the safety of an animal than himself. He’d treated it with easy kindness, and herself with gentle consideration.

Which was the real Tahir?

Seeing him now, ramrod-straight and wearing an implacable expression of detachment, she was convinced there was more to Tahir than the face he showed the world.

Was it possible the man she’d begun to love in the desert lurked somewhere inside?

Or was that wishful thinking?

‘But your mother will be at the wedding,’ she murmured, searching desperately for solid ground.

He tensed, his expression stonier than ever. ‘I’ll invite her. It’s up to her whether she chooses to attend.’ He paused, then spoke again in a neutral tone. ‘My brothers are busy with their own business and their new wives. Rafiq’s in Australia and Kareef in Qais. It will be a small wedding. I’ll give you details in due course.’

Tahir stood, his tone making it clear their discussion was over. He gestured for her to precede him into the palace.

Her audience with the King was at an end.

 

‘So you enjoyed talking to the guests last night,’ Tahir murmured as he accepted tea from his mother.

Rihana’s rooms weren’t where he’d choose to meet Annalisa, but he didn’t trust himself with her in private. Last night she’d looked at him with huge doe eyes and guilt had scored him to the bone.

He couldn’t keep his hands off her. He’d kissed her and his good intentions had instantly collapsed. He’d have taken her then and there, on the stone seat! Only the distress in her eyes had stopped him.

He’d have to live with frustration. Until they were wed. By then she’d be ready to accept the passion that flared between them and give him what he wanted. What they both wanted.

‘Yes.’ She watched him warily. She was pale, and dark shadows bruised her eyes. ‘The reception was fascinating.’

‘What in particular?’ Maybe guilt prompted him, but he was curious. Annalisa was such an antidote to the world of cynicism and mistrust he’d known so long.

She shrugged, the movement so jerky he caught his mother’s concerned look.

Again guilt speared him. He’d stolen Annalisa’s bright future with one greedy lapse of judgement. Trapped himself too, in the yoke of marriage.

A chill filled him at the idea of marrying. He had a deep-seated horror of anything that smacked of commitment. Yet it had to be done. In a couple of weeks, when Annalisa had had time to acclimatise. She looked so fragile.

He’d do his best to support her. After all, in her own way she was as much an outsider as he.

‘So many people were interesting,’ Annalisa murmured, her husky voice an echo of his erotic fantasies. ‘Archaeologists and diplomats. Experts in health and farming.’ She stopped, eyes rounding as she caught his gaze, obviously remembering his anger when she’d spoken to that agricultural advisor.

‘You find all that interesting?’

‘Of course.’ He caught a glimpse of the passionate woman who’d entranced him in the desert. ‘Don’t you?’

‘I…’ Tahir stopped as something struck him.

He’d been busy learning to be monarch, at the same time working to divest himself of the responsibility but finding no alternative ruler. In all that time he hadn’t once been bored. He’d been challenged, frustrated, even occasionally pleased when he’d made important progress.

But never bored.

‘Tahir?’ Two pairs of eyes stared at him.

Tahir dragged himself back into the conversation, but for the next twenty minutes only half listened.

As he watched Annalisa, so on edge with him, he realised he needed to bridge the chasm he’d created between them. She was wound so tight it couldn’t be healthy for the baby or her.

But bridging that gap might leave him vulnerable.

Annalisa made him doubt himself and his certainties.

She made him…feel.

She stirred emotions he wasn’t accustomed to. Like last night’s jealousy. It had blasted like the desert wind, scouring away his reason. He’d become a covetous brute, lashing out when he should have looked after her.

The reception must have been overwhelming for her. He hadn’t missed her wide-eyed look at walls panelled with gold and gems.

He had to protect her and ease her way.

Tahir Al’Ramiz, a champion of duty.

Would wonders never cease?

‘What do you think, Tahir?’ His mother interrupted his thoughts. ‘Will decentralised healthcare get off the ground? Or is it rhetoric?’

He watched Annalisa blush, guessing they’d been expounding upon the problems with the current system. Just the sort of thing she would be interested in, he realised with something like pride.

‘Since you’re interested, come to the next meeting of the working party.’

Silence greeted his suggestion.

‘It’s not usual,’ his mother explained. ‘It’s normally just officials.’

Didn’t he know it? He felt hemmed-in by bureaucracy. It wasn’t his style. Ruling a country wasn’t his style! But if he was stuck with it, he’d do it his way.

Tahir leaned forward to select a date from the platter before him. He favoured Annalisa with a long look and saw her eyes grow round again. It reminded him of her wide-eyed wonder as their bodies joined. He struggled to find the thread of the conversation.

How did she do that without even trying?

‘I’ll have one of the secretaries let you both know when the next meeting is.’

‘Oh, but I don’t think…’ Annalisa’s words trailed off as he watched her.

‘But you do think, Annalisa, and that’s why I want you there.’ Even as he said it he realised how true that was. The meetings had been a tangle of officialdom and little practical input. Besides, it would give Annalisa a chance to think about something other than her pregnancy. He guessed after living a life busy with responsibilities being cooped up here with nothing to do gave her too much time to worry.

‘You have experience in healthcare in the provinces. It would be useful to hear your perspective.’ He turned to his mother. ‘Did you know Annalisa helped provide medical care in outlying villages?’

‘I did.’ His mother’s look might almost have been called approving. He paused in the act of chewing. ‘Annalisa would give valuable input. What a good idea.’

Tahir swallowed the date and sat back, his head spinning. His royal mother sounded almost warm in her praise. What was the world coming to?

For as long as he could recall she’d been coolly polite. During his exile she’d refused to answer his calls.

‘But I couldn’t,’ Annalisa murmured. ‘I’m not—’

‘I’d appreciate your involvement. And my mother will be there.’ Tahir leaned forward and fixed Annalisa with a look he knew could melt feminine resolve in under thirty seconds. He watched her blink rapidly as a soft blush warmed her cheeks and throat.

Triumph filled him. She wasn’t indifferent, for all her unwillingness to wed.

If he had to marry, he intended to enjoy the benefits. Soon, very soon, she’d give him everything he desired.