Amira felt the kind of thrill of exhilaration she hadn’t experienced since she’d been a child riding in Muscat as she followed Abdullah. It felt wonderful to be on a horse again, the desert flashing by in a blur of rocks and sand. She had had no time for such pursuits since she’d been queen. She hadn’t ridden like this in years.The only sound was her horse’s hooves galloping across the sand. She spurred the beast on, eager to catch up with Abdullah —or even pass him. Although he hadn’t said, she knew it had become a race.Glancing behind him, Abdullah pointed to a towering, needle-like boulder in the distance that Amira knew must be the finish line. She nodded back and crouched low over the horse as the wind whistled past. She was only a length behind him, and in the last dash to the finish line she made up half a length, but Abdullah’s horse still crossed a beat before hers.Laughing, she reined the animal in and patted his sweat-soaked neck. ‘That was close.’‘Very close,’ Abdullah
‘That’s not an answer either, but yes, I have.’ He spoke evenly, but she still felt the ocean of pain underneath. ‘My father hurt me when he chose to disown and banish me.’‘Oh, Abdullah.’ She bit her lip, remorse rushing through her. ‘I’m sorry. That was a thoughtless question for me to ask.’‘Not at all. But I want you to answer my question. What were you talking about when you said friendship wasn’t worth the risk?’‘I had a friend once,’ Amira said slowly. ‘And he let me down rather badly. He—betrayed me.’ She shook her head. ‘That sounds melodramatic, but that’s what happened.’‘He,’ Abdullah said neutrally, and with a dart of surprise she wondered if he was actually jealous.‘Yes, he. But it wasn’t romantic, not remotely.’ She sighed. ‘It was stupid, really. I was stupid to trust him.’‘So this man is why you don’t trust people?’‘I’ve learned my lesson. But I trust you, Abdullah.’She heard his breath come out in a rush. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t.’‘Why do you say that?’‘Do I need
Yet she said nothing, because it felt like it counted. It felt like the only thing that counted. Abdullah had given her something, or maybe he’d just showed her she already had it: a capacity to share, to trust, to love.She looked up at him, searching his face, wanting to know what he was feeling, if he felt the same pull of attraction and empathy that she did. But then she met his gaze and saw the fire burning there and her breath caught in her chest as desire, raw, fierce and overwhelming, crashed over her.His face was so close to hers she could feel his breath fanning against her cheek, see the dark glint of stubble on his chin. His lips were no more than a whisper away from hers and, as she stared up at him and heard his breath hitch, she knew without a doubt she wanted to close that small distance between their mouths.She wanted him to kiss her.His head dipped and her heart seemed to stop and then soar. His lips were so close now that if she moved at all they would be touchi
Several clucking women surrounded Amira and she was carried along with them to a tent, bemused by their interest, and more than a little hurt by the stony look she’d seen on Abdullah’s face as he’d turned away.So he regretted their kiss last night. Clearly, and she should regret it too; of course, she should. Kissing Abdullah was a terrible idea. Caring about him was even worse. The trouble was, she couldn’t regret it. She ached with longing for another kiss—and more. For him. She’d come to this desert tribe because she’d wanted to because she wanted to see the people who cared about Abdullah.As she cared about him. More, it seemed, than he wanted her to.Once in the tent, the women fluttered around her like colorful, chattering birds, touching her hair, her cheek, and the clothes she wore that were now grimed with dust and dirt. Amira didn’t understand anything they said, and it appeared none of them spoke either English or Greek, the two languages in which she was fluent. They all
And so Amira let herself be carried along once more by the women; she didn’t protest when they dressed her in a gown of silvery blue, lined her eyes with kohl, placed copper bangles on both arms and a veil of coins over her face. She understood they wanted to celebrate her recent marriage, just as the young bride was celebrating hers, and she didn’t resist.She wanted to celebrate it too.The sky was deep indigo and studded with millions of stars when the ceremony began. The entire tribe had assembled and Amira watched, enchanted, as the ceremony played out amidst a riot of color, music and dance. The women and men sat separately, and although she looked for him she could not find Abdullah amidst the men gathered under a tent. She wondered if he would even recognize her in the Bedouin dress, headscarf and veil, wondered what he would think of her like this.After the ceremony people circulated freely to enjoy food, music and dance. Several giggling women pushed Amira towards a group o
‘Not as many as you’re thinking, and none in the last year. I’ve been too busy with other things.’ And none like you. Untouched. Innocent. Amazing. He couldn’t believe he was seriously thinking about taking Amira up on her offer to make love to her.‘When I said it was dangerous, Amira, I didn’t mean an unplanned pregnancy. I was talking about the...the emotional risks.’She flinched and then recovered her composure. ‘I’m aware of the risk, Abdullah,’ she told him. ‘And I’m not under the illusion that this would be anything but one night. I’m not asking for more from you.’‘I know that.’‘Then what’s the problem?’ He just shook his head, both torn and tempted. Her smile turned flirtatious, even sultry. ‘I suppose I’ll just have to seduce you.’Surprise flared deep inside him, along with an almost unbearable arousal. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ he managed. He knew she wouldn’t have to do much and he would cave completely. He would take her in his arms and lose himself in her k
‘What are you thinking about, Amira?’ Abdullah asked, his voice a quiet rumble in his chest.‘Nothing—’‘Not nothing,’ he interjected quietly. ‘You’ve gone all tense.’And she realized she had; she was lying stiff in his arms, her hand curled against his chest. Gently he reached up and flattened her fist, smoothing her fingers out before resting his hand on top of hers. ‘What were you thinking about?’ he asked again.She sighed. ‘Just...some memories.’‘The same memories that give you nightmares?’‘No. Different ones.’‘Not good ones, though.’‘No.’ She let out a little sigh. ‘Not particularly.’‘I’m sorry,’ he said after a moment, and somehow that felt like exactly the right thing to say.‘So am I. But I don’t want to think about bad memories tonight, Abdullah. I want to be happy. Just for tonight.’He squeezed her hand lightly. ‘I won’t stop you.’‘I know, but...’ She wanted more than his acquiescence; she wanted his participation. ‘Can we—can we pretend?’ she asked, her voice quaver
He could marry her. The thought made everything in him rear up in shocked panic. Marriage had never been on his agenda. Yet ever since he’d seen that serving girl this morning, and realized the repercussions of his night with Amira, the thought had been rattling around in his brain like a coin in a box.He could marry her—marry the woman who was intended as the Sheikh of Jumeirah’s wife. It would help strengthen his claim, stabilize his throne, and it would give Amira what she wanted too.Why not?Because it’s dangerous. Because the emotional risks you warned her about apply to you too.Because you care about her already.Amira had spoken of a cold, convenient union , but would it be like that if he was her husband? Would he be able to keep himself from caring for, even loving, her?Did he even want to?His mind spun and seethed. He felt the clash of his own desires, the need to protect himself and the urge to be with her—care for her.And did Amira even care for him? Just what kin