Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
S arah had no choice but to do as she did at the desert castle and borrow one of the dresses which hung in the suite of rooms which had been allocated to her.
They definitely belonged to the same woman. But who that woman was, she didn’t know. And no one seemed willing to tell her. She only hoped the woman wouldn’t make an appearance any time soon. Because somehow she doubted the owner would have been pleased to see her dresses worn by other people. Whoever the owner was, she certainly wasn’t modest. Sarah had had her work cut out to find something among the flamboyant clothes which didn’t scream that she wanted to be taken to bed. Because, while she might want exactly that, she refused to give in to her desires. Not yet anyway. First, she needed to know the son wasn’t like his father.
Because, despite her thoughts of anger and betrayal about Kadar keeping his status secret from her, she felt very different now. It seemed just being with Kadar could do that to a girl. She was still wary— after all, wasn’t he the son of the king who’d ordered the deaths of her parents? But when she reflected on all the different conversations they’d had during the afternoon, when she remembered what a generous lover he’d been—how tender as well as dominating—she couldn’t believe he was anything like his monstrous father.
So she’d agreed to dinner, hoping she could somehow discover something— anything — that would confirm her instincts that the son was nothing like his father. Because without that, there could be nothing between them. And, with every moment they were together, she knew she was in danger of slipping under his spell. She needed her fears assuaged before she slipped under it entirely.
She took one last look in the mirror. Her glossy hair was pulled back into a French twist from which tendrils were already escaping. She sighed. It felt like an indication of her self-control—barely there.
And then there was the dress. She’d selected a black satin. She’d been surprised that the woman had any black in her wardrobe amongst the other gaudy colors, but now she could see why it was there. The cut was superb and the satin’s sheen highlighted her figure in ways which the more complicated designs couldn’t. But it was too late to change now. She looked into her eyes.
“Focus, Sarah, focus!” she told herself sternly.
Find out if the sins of the father are also the sins of the son and then either get the hell out of there, or… Her eyes darkened with desire. She turned away and walked out the room, knowing that the ‘or’ option would take her straight back to his bed.
Kadar stood up a second before Sarah stepped out onto the terrace. Even though her approach was silent, he could sense her before he saw her. Every part of him had been on edge, waiting for her. He didn’t understand why. Guilt maybe for tricking her over her passport, or was it something else? Something which he never thought he’d be afflicted with? Because this woman got to him in a way, he’d never been got to before.
“Sarah,” he breathed involuntarily at the sight of her. The long locks of hair which had escaped her clip gleamed in the subdued lighting, like the satin of her dress. And what a dress. If she’d imagined she’d selected a conservative choice, she couldn’t have been more wrong. He realized she hadn’t yet seen him, standing under the boughs of a tree, away from the lights. So he indulged in a few more moments when he could watch her unawares.
At first she hesitated as she looked around the terrace and betrayed her nerves by smoothing down the satin which swept her curves in the most delicious way. And in that moment, he knew that his desires and those of his vizier were in perfect accord. He wanted her back in his bed and he’d do whatever it took to make that happen.
“Sarah,” he called, louder this time.
“Kadar,” she said, turning to him.
“I’ve asked for dinner to be served on the terrace. I thought it might be more private, more enjoyable.”
Instantly, he regretted his comment as a frown descended on her brow. “More private… for what purpose?”
He shrugged. Her suspicions were fair enough because they were also accurate. He’d have to tread more carefully.
“I simply mean it will be less formal, easier to relax with fewer staff hovering around you, cooler, the stars…” He pointed to the canopy over their heads. “Should I go on?”
He was rewarded with a relaxed smile, the kind of smile which made him melt somewhere deep inside.
“No, no need. I get it.” She looked around, up at the stars and inhaled a deep breath, her breasts rising in a way which made him forget anything about strategy. “And you’re right,” she shot him another smile, “it is beautiful out here.”
He opened his mouth to say that it had become more beautiful the moment she stepped foot onto the terrace, but closed it again. It was too soon.
“Would you care for a pre-dinner drink?” he asked instead.
“Just sparkling water, please.”
He raised his hand for the attendant to pour the drinks before dismissing him. Sarah’s gaze lingered on the retreating attendant as if nervous this left them alone together. He needed to put her at her ease.
He walked over to her where she stood, her back to the lights of the city, and handed her a drink.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
She shot him a brief, nervous smile and nodded.
“I’m glad,” he continued, “because it gives me another opportunity to apologize for everything that has happened. Your visit to our country hasn’t begun smoothly.”
“True, but it has been interesting.” Her eyes glinted with mischief at the memory of their night together.
He hesitated as he prepared the words. He wasn’t used to apologizing for anything. “But mainly I want to say how much I regret not telling you who I was.”
Her expression became serious once more and when she lifted her hazel eyes, he saw in them a gentleness which made him catch his breath. “You know,” she said at last, “I’m rather glad you didn’t.”
He hadn’t expected that. “Why is that?”
“Because…” she paused. “Because our night would have been passed very differently.”
“Ah, I see. So you would not have been interested in me if you’d known I was king.”
She shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“And there was me thinking I didn’t want you to know so that, for once, we could simply be two people together without the trappings of royalty complicating things.” He sighed. “Shall we begin again? Start with some small talk, learn a little more about each other?”
She sat back and laughed. “Why not?”
“Good.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to getting to know each other better.”
She blinked lightly and then raised her glass and clinked it against his. “Sounds a good place to begin.”
“So tell me about yourself. What else do you do in England besides work as a counsellor and do a little modelling? Any family? No husband or children?”
“No,” she said with a smile, “I might have mentioned either earlier if they existed.”
“Good to have the clarification,” he said. “No other family?”
She frowned. “Why are you so interested in my family?”
He’d been too probing. His conversational skills were rusty. He shrugged. “No reason. Just trying to get to know you, find out what you’re interested in, what you dislike.”
“Would you like to know my favorite color?”
He glanced at her luscious curves in her dress and quickly lifted his eyes, aware they’d lingered too long. “Black?” he volunteered.
She grinned. “Right. I guess that wasn’t hard to figure out. By the way, whose clothes am I wearing? She’s not likely to return soon and wonder why some strange woman is using her room and wearing her clothes?”
“No. The woman in question isn’t welcome in my country. She would be very foolish indeed to return.” The question still hung, unanswered, in the air, and he knew it wouldn’t go away. Because one thing he had already learned about Sarah was that she was curious and intelligent. She wouldn’t let this mystery drop. “The woman in question is my mother.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Your mother ? You’ve fallen out with your mother ?”
He gritted his teeth. “She betrayed her family, and she betrayed her country. But we seem to have veered away from the subject. You .”
“I’d rather talk about you ,” she said. Her smile had faded and her expression now was serious.
He frowned. “Me? I’m afraid I’m not very interesting.”
“Ha! You’re a king. Your life is far from usual, far more interesting than mine.”
“In what way?”
“ Every way.” She took a sip of her water and sat back in her chair. “What was your family life like, for example?” She looked away. “What was your father like?” She glanced back at him again when she said the word “father”. He knew what his father had done to maintain law and order twenty-five years earlier. He’d always ruled with a heavy, cruel hand and had had no compunction in ordering the deaths of those who threatened his rule. It wasn’t done obviously of course. Accidents happen in the desert. But his father’s vizier knew all about his father’s transgressions and now, so did he. He just wondered whether she knew.
“My father.” He paused again and saw the flicker of interest in her eyes intensify. “What would you like to know about him?”
She hesitated, licked her lips. “Do you resemble him?”
Ah, so she did know. He understood her anger now when she’d discovered his identity.
“In some ways, yes.”
Her face froze.
“But in other ways, not at all.”
She swallowed, betraying her nerves and intense interest in the answer to her question. “Care to elaborate?” She took another sip of water, but her eyes held his like a laser beam above the glass.
“We both have a strong sense of responsibility for our country. Duty was central to my father’s life, as it is to mine. Nothing else can interfere with that. My grandfather was the same. My people depend on me to provide a safe place to live and work with their families in peace and prosperity. And that is what I must give them—or die trying.”
He paused as he noticed fear enter her eyes for the first time. He didn’t care to see that.
“But, there the resemblance ends,” he continued. “Our personalities are opposites and dictate that we both have chosen different paths to achieve these ends.” He licked his lips, wondering how far to go. Then he decided that if he didn’t go all the way, he risked losing this woman. And that was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. “He was cruel, Sarah. Ruthless . Not only with his enemies but also with his family. His children. His wife. The only love in my family was that between my brother and I. We would do anything for each other, and will always be there for each other. But my father? My mother?” He shrugged. “No. There was no relationship. No affection, no care, no love. Nothing which my father deemed might weaken us for the role which lay ahead of us.”
She placed her glass back on the table and sat back, her shoulders relaxed for the first time since she’d set foot on the terrace. The silence lengthened, but Kadar didn’t interrupt it.
“That’s good to know,” she said at last. “I had heard of your father’s cruelty and was shocked by it. So, of course, when I discovered you were his son I was, well, not to put to fine a point on it, appalled to think I’d been intimate with the son of someone I’ve heard described as little short of a monster.”
He opened his eyes wide in surprise. He knew what his father had been capable of, but still found it hard to hear him be described as a monster. His father had done everything he could for his country, even if that meant suppressing any emotion of any kind. In his latter years, he’d seen what it had cost him, not least a wife who’d hated him. But now wasn’t the time to debate the accuracy of her description.
“I’m not like him, Sarah. I can assure you of that. But I am like him in that I want peace for my country and I will do whatever it takes—in my own way—to get it.”
“Hopefully that excludes having people killed.”
His eyes narrowed. No one talked of such things openly. “Of course. But…” He had to be truthful because, after all, wasn’t he tricking her for exactly this purpose? “But,” he repeated, “I still have to do things which are unpalatable to me to get what I want.”
“I guess we all do that to some extent,” she replied, obviously reassured by what he’d told her. “Even in the lives of ordinary working people.” She smiled at him.
“Indeed. I’m glad you understand and I want to apologize again for not telling you who I was earlier. But for once I was just a man?—”
“And I was a woman?—”
“And that was all that mattered. All that was important at that moment. It was too precious to shatter by telling you who I was.”
She nodded. “I understand. Looking around at the kind of life you have here, I can see that you yearned for a respite from it. You know, I don’t think you’re cut out to be king.”
He scoffed a laugh. “You and me both. I prefer to be with my people, not apart from them. I’ve never wanted the position, but I’ve been groomed for it. I have no other choice. It is my destiny.”
“Everyone has a choice, Kadar.”
“You’re wrong. Not me.”
“Yes, you. Even here, now, you had a choice whether or not to tell me the truth about your father, which couldn’t have been easy. No matter what he was like, he was still your father.”
He was surprised at her empathy. At how easily she understood him.
“But you did,” she said. “And I appreciate that. And now I have the choice whether I follow my instincts, or my rational mind.” She leaned forward, the shiny stuff of her dress gaping slightly to reveal her cleavage. “Which should I do, do you think?”
His heart thumped heavily. “That depends what your instincts are telling you. If they’re telling you to leave immediately, then I’d prefer you didn’t follow them. But, if they’re telling you to stay, so we can get to know each other better, then, yes, you should most definitely follow them.” He looked into her eyes and saw her answer there, but refused to jump to any conclusion. He needed to know. “What are your instincts telling you?”
“They’re telling me to stop talking and get closer to you.”
He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “How close?”
“Your body inside mine.”
His mouth dried, and his erection hardened. “That’s close.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked, glancing at the food, which had remained untouched.
“Not for food.”
“Then shall we skip dinner?”
He nodded and rose. His chair pushed back onto the ground with a clatter, and he took her hand and walked toward the door. The starry skies were no longer required for romance or lingering kisses. They both knew what they wanted. And they needed to go somewhere where they could get it.