Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
K adar drummed his fingers on the side of the dining chair before jumping up and pacing the dining room. Again.
He couldn’t seem to sit still. He’d kept busy setting out dinner on the long table, but now there was nothing to do except wait. He wasn’t good at waiting. Especially when the person he was waiting for was not only a beautiful woman but one who could resolve one of his country’s long-standing issues. But only if she didn’t know about them. Once she was aware of her true identity, it would be too late for him.
As he paced, he couldn’t believe his luck. His visit had been a spur-of-the-moment decision when he and his brother had decided to dump his mother’s treasured wardrobe in the middle of the desert. He thought he might as well take the opportunity to stay one night alone in this place, which was so dear to his heart. The place where he’d found solace and escape from his family by hunting with his beloved uncle. One night wasn’t a lot to ask when he’d given the rest of his life to serve his country. And he’d needed time to think through the problem which beset his reign. Not least the problem of the Al-Barraq tribe. He smiled to himself at how, it turned out, no thinking was required. The answer to his problems had been blown to him on the desert wind.
He stopped pacing as a door banged far away in the castle. He listened to the sound of her footsteps, not the stabbing sound of his mother’s stilettos, but softer. Of course it was. He wondered which of the robes she’d chosen. He suspected he’d learn a little more about her character by her choice of dress. He doubted it would be as revealing as he’d prefer. His stomach clenched with lust as he remembered how her unusual hazel eyes—a feature of the people east of the mountains—had looked up at him with an answering desire clearly etched in them. It was a desire he was determined to exploit.
He gripped the back of his chair at the opposite end of the great hall and watched as she opened the door and stepped into the room. The brightly lit hall, illuminated by the rows of flaming torches kept for when there was no electricity, provided a perfect setting for seduction.
Ah, something modest, he thought, as he watched her walk towards him, the silk shimmering under the shifting light. But also something exquisite. He’d never seen his mother wearing the dress, and he was glad. And he also knew it would have looked totally different on her.
“You found the dresses then,” he said, unable to shift his mind from how beautiful she looked. That she was beautiful, he’d noted instantly after he’d brought her into the castle, covered in sand and, later, with water dripping down her face. But that she also possessed such grace and elegance had escaped him. Until now.
“They would have been hard to miss,” she said. “There are certainly a lot of them. And they’re all very expensive looking, very glamorous.”
Before she could ask the obvious question, he changed the subject. “Would you care for a drink?”
“Water would be nice, thank you.”
“Just water?”
“Believe me, I have an intense appreciation of it after the heat and dryness of the desert, of which I swallowed a good amount.”
He smiled. “Of course.” He enjoyed looking after himself. He still wasn’t accustomed to people waiting on him, and poured her a glass from the bottle, wryly thinking that this was something he’d never seen his father do. “Here.”
She took the glass from his hand and their fingertips touched slightly as she raised kohl-rimmed eyes to his. And the effect on his body deepened again. She stepped back quickly as if burned, and the water splashed onto the stone-flagged floor. She turned away and her gaze took in the lavish array of cold dishes which his staff had left for him.
“Looks like you know how to look after yourself,” she said, shooting him a quick smile, which spread warmth into his gut. How long had it been since someone had bestowed on him such a sweet smile, expecting nothing? Never. The longer he could keep her from knowing he was king, the happier he’d be. For more reasons than one.
“Certainly. I am, if nothing else, resourceful.” That much was true. He’d spent enough time alone in this castle sustained only by the meat which he’d hunted and the water he’d drawn from the well.
“It looks delicious.”
“Please take a seat. No doubt it is a long time since you ate.”
“It is. If a sandwich with the texture of plastic can be classed as food.”
He took a seat opposite her, leaving each end of the long table empty. “If that is the sort of cuisine the bus tours inflict on their passengers, then I’m glad I’m able to provide you with a taste of our country’s traditional food. Are you familiar with our cuisine?”
She shook her head. “No, not at all.”
“But you said your grandfather was from Sirun?”
“Yes, he was. But we ate only the western food our housekeeper cooked for us.”
Few people in England could afford to employ a housekeeper. But a leader of the Al-Barraq tribe could. And it would have been a necessity for a man accustomed to servants. It confirmed his suspicions.
“Then allow me to describe the different dishes.”
As he lingered over the description of each dish, enjoying watching her listen with absolute attention, her eyes darted between the dishes. He noticed her tongue lick her lips a few times, causing him to stop talking and inhale sharply.
“Please help yourself,” he said, sitting back to sip his drink.
She didn’t need asking twice.
“So,” he said, after giving her time to enjoy a few mouthfuls, “is there anything you’d like to know about Sirun which I can help you with?”
She helped herself to another scoop of vegetables, as if to give herself time to think.
“There’s so much I’d like to know. How people live, what life is like here.”
He was interested that she didn’t talk about her family. Maybe she had some idea about what had happened to her parents. He hoped it was only a vague notion. For now, at least. “I suspect life in Sirun is more similar than you would imagine.”
As she ate, he described life in Sirun, all the while watching her appreciation of the traditional food she ate, and admiring her beauty. Fine-boned with delicate fingers, she had the same graceful features of her countrywomen. Which, at some point, she would discover. But not yet. Not until the real world descended on them both, and there was at least one whole night before that happened.
“But I’ve been talking too much,” he said, hoping his conversation would have sufficiently disguised the questions he now wanted to ask her. “Please, tell me about yourself.” A wariness entered her eyes immediately. He smiled reassuringly. “It must have been difficult for you, being brought up by your grandfather—a man from a very different culture to that of England.”
She lowered her eyes and played with her fingernails as if uncertain. When she looked up again he could see the pain in her eyes and, instead, it filled him with doubt. How could he use this woman’s vulnerability?
“Yes, it was. Not least because he told me so little about my heritage, and the little he told me was only months before he died.” She heaved a sigh. “I know nothing about the people from whom I come. Apart from my grandfather, the only people from Sirun I’ve met are the tour guide, the kids who stole my backpack, and you.”
“I’m truly sorry that you have had such a rough introduction. Especially to be the victim of a crime. Unfortunately, my country is not as wealthy as many of its neighbors and lack of money and possessions makes people do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do. Like the children in the nearby village.”
Sarah placed her utensils on the plate, as if she’d suddenly lost her appetite. “You said you thought you knew how to get them back.”
He nodded. “Yes, I have a good idea which village they’d have come from. As soon as the storm has blown over, we can find them.”
“Oh,” she said, the relief obvious, “that would be wonderful. Goodness knows how long it would take to get another passport and I have no money, no ID, nothing.” She swept her arms wide to emphasize the lack. Then rested her elbows on the table and her chin on the joined hands. She looked directly at him and in that moment his stomach clenched with a desire which he hadn’t felt in years. He wanted her. All he had to do was to get her to drop her guard and allow him to have her. It would certainly be novel. He hadn’t had to work at seducing anyone, ever.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure we will find them. And if we don’t, I have contacts in the city who will help you expedite things.”
She nodded. “You’ve been so kind.” She looked thoughtful for a few moments, as if wondering whether to ask what was on her mind.
“What is it?” he asked. “You look as if you want to ask me something.”
She gave an embarrassed half laugh and wrung her hands lightly before placing them on the table in front of her. “I guess I’m just curious…”
“About?”
“You.” She wrinkled her brow. “What is someone like you doing here, in the middle of the desert, caretaking a castle?”
He raised an eyebrow, wondering how he could stall her. “Someone like me? How do you mean?”
“Someone obviously educated, fluent in English, which isn’t your first language.” She huffed a slight laugh. “You sound as if you’ve just left Eton. I’d have thought you’d be working for your country in the city, rather than, you know, out here.”
He shifted, uncomfortable at how accurate her observation was. He decided honesty, or something approximating it, was his best policy. “You’re absolutely right. I live and work in the city. I’m just here for”—he gave an airy wave as his brain scrambled for an explanation which wouldn’t give away his true role in his country—“the hunting.”
“And the owners allow that?”
“Yes.” He was about to elaborate, but thought better of it. The less he said, the shallower the hole he’d dig himself.
She considered for a moment, then her face lightened and she nodded. “I guess they run it as a kind of Air BnB.”
He spluttered and tried to cover it up by offering her another glass of the wine she’d agreed to taste.
She placed her hand over the glass. “No more for me, thanks. It’s stronger than it looks.”
And he did suddenly see that her eyes were warmer than before, that the guard had dropped. If he weren’t a gentleman, he’d take advantage of the fact. But he was. Wasn’t he?
“Of course,” he said, placing the bottle back on the table. He linked his hands and tapped his lips, his eyes focused steadily on hers. He didn’t want to miss a moment of her expressive eyes. “Is there anything else I can get you?” The words rose unprompted because he really wanted to please this woman. He only realized the possible sexual overtones when he saw a deep blush rise in her cheeks.
But her gaze didn’t waver. She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
He liked the uncertainty in her voice. He raised an eyebrow in query. “Are you sure?”
She cleared her throat and echoed his pose. That was a good sign. “What are you offering?” Was it his imagination or had her voice lowered slightly, become sexier?
“Well,” he said, feeling the connection with her in the pit of his stomach. Physical and mental. Just as long as it wasn’t emotional too, he was safe. He rose, and she stayed stock still. He extended his hand to hers. “Perhaps,”
“Yes?” she asked even more huskily.
For a moment he was tempted to go directly to what he wanted, but he felt her unsureness behind that husky voice. And he didn’t want to risk losing her yet.
“I could take you on a tour of the castle, but I feel that might be a little frustrating given the lack of light.”
He smiled as the bubble of laughter escaped her. The sexual tension had eased a little. Just as he’d hoped. It was like fishing. Reel your prey in a little, and then allow them to swim free, to become accustomed to the hook, before reeling them in again, until they knew the outcome was inevitable.
“No doubt. But we might look around in the morning?”
“Of course. It would be my pleasure.” He rose. “But now I think we should call it a night.”
He watched as she swallowed, her slender neck convulsing slightly, her lips trembling. Good. He simply had to press his advantage.
“Yes, of course,” she said, looking up at him with those feline eyes, eyes that he could dive into and get lost in. She rose. “Thank you for a delicious dinner. It was far grander than I imagined.”
He inclined his head in agreement and walked around to her side of the table, stopping just a little too close to her. He couldn’t resist it. “Thank you . It was made all the more agreeable by your company.”
His words bore only a faint trace of what he was feeling, but he hoped it would keep her feeling comfortable. Keep her guard lowered.
“Now,” he said, standing taller. “I’ll escort you back to your room.”
“I should wash the dishes. I can’t just leave everything.”
He just managed to swallow a smile. “I assure you, you can just leave everything.” He opened the door and the whine of the wind, like a demented djinn, grew louder.
“In that case,” she said, walking over to him. “Thank you. It’s been lovely.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed my country’s cuisine.”
“You country,” she laughed. “It sounds as if you own it.” She smiled again and walked out into the shadowy hall, dim after the brightly lit dining hall. He was glad of its dimness as they walked side by side through the hall and up the stairs. It hid his amusement.
When they reached her room, he opened the door for her, just as a strong gust of wind buffeted the castle with an extra howling whine as it forced its way around the building.
“The castle can take on an eerie atmosphere at night, especially when a storm rages outside, like now. I hope it doesn’t disturb your rest.”
She shivered.
“You’re cold?”
She shook her head and her glossy hair shifted over her shoulders. He longed to stroke it. He curled his hand into a fist to stop himself. Then she looked up at him with those dark eyes and all bets were off.
She shook her head, blinking as if confused. She opened her mouth to speak but said nothing. Her gaze raked over his face before settling on his lips. And then she licked hers as if remembering something tasty.
“Kadar,” she replied at last. “I… want to thank you. Thank you for everything. For saving me from dying alone in the desert, for giving me shelter and food, and…” she trailed off and lowered her gaze.
“And?” He couldn’t resist reaching out to her and lifting her chin gently with his finger. “Tell me, Sarah, what are you thinking to bring such clouds into your eyes?”
“Clouds?” She huffed a brief laugh. “Maybe I need the clouds to hide behind.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Hide? There’s no need to hide from me.”
“Ah, there we disagree. I think there’s every need.”
“Why?”
“Well, there’s the fact that you are not only still touching my face, but your fingers are moving against my skin.”
“Moving?” It was his turn to huff a laugh. “I think ‘caressing’ would be a better word.”
Everything about her stilled except her throat, which swallowed.
“I have a powerful urge to kiss you, Sarah. May I?”
She raised her hand to her lips as if wanting to feel his against hers, and nodded.
Desire throbbed in his groin. He took her hand from her mouth and replaced it with his index finger, tracing its shape. “Such beautiful lips,” he murmured. “They’re made for kissing.”
He hesitated one moment just to make sure. He’d never taken anything or anyone who wasn’t his, and he had no intention of doing so with this gorgeous woman. But her only response was an unformed whimper.
He pressed his mouth to hers and for one long moment, neither moved. Then he felt her give a soft gasp, and he moved his lips against hers in a slow caress as he felt her shed the last lingering shreds of constraint and her body melted into his.
He slipped his hands around her waist as she pressed her hips against his. Her breath caught the moment she became aware of his arousal, but she didn’t pull away, only pressed harder against him. She wanted pleasure, and he knew he could give her what she wanted. But there was a vulnerable look in her eyes which made him stop.
“You should go to bed,” he said in a rush, his forehead pressed to hers.
He felt her nod in agreement as she pushed the door further open with her foot and they practically fell into her bedroom.
He released her and took a deliberate step away.
“I mean, you should go to bed alone. As much as I want this, you’re vulnerable. Alone. I can’t take advantage of you.”
The castle seemed to wheeze and shudder under the impact of the sandstorm. He stayed stock still, waiting to see what she’d do. And it wasn’t what he’d imagined.
She walked over to the bed and touched the columns of twisted dark wood, glanced at the bed, and then turned around.
“You won’t be taking advantage of me. I rather think it would be the other way around. You see, I’ve spent most of my life feeling alone. And yet, here, with you now, I don’t feel alone. And I don’t want you to leave.”
A war raged inside of him, equal to the storm outside. On one side, his desire for her was undeniable. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anybody. But on the other side, he knew that he’d be using her for his own ends. The more desire he felt, the more he knew he couldn’t honorably act on it.
“It would be wrong,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t understand. Knowing that she couldn’t be allowed to understand.
She didn’t move toward him, didn’t argue with him. Either of those things he could have handled. No, instead she began to undo the pearl buttons which ran down the front of the dress. It seemed her choice of weapon was to lure him over to her. It also seemed to work.
“Now tell me you don’t want me,” she said, keeping her head held high.
But he couldn’t because when she pushed the dress aside, he realized that she was naked underneath, and it would have taken a man made of ice not to have moved over to her. Not to run his hands over her shoulders, her arms, her waist and, as he pulled her to him in a kiss which was as passionate as the first had been gentle, not to have his hands run over her bottom, cup it and pull her hard against him.
And he was not made of ice.