Defying her Desert Duty (15 page)

‘Because I love her.’

Silence descended, broken only by the rattle of Soraya’s breath in her overburdened lungs. Surely she imagined the
words? For Zahir to say them now, here, in front of the nation’s elite … She tried to take it in but couldn’t.

‘I love her,’ he said, louder this time, making himself heard over the immediate clamour of protest that rose around them. ‘Therefore I can’t be part of your court. I can’t remain here, a loyal subject, when she—’ he swallowed hard ‘—is your queen.’

Zahir’s gaze flickered to her and she read haunting anguish in the depths of his eyes.

Her heart gave a great leap, battering up against her throat. She felt light-headed.

‘You have never been precipitate before, Zahir.’ The Emir spoke over the swelling roar behind them. ‘I counsel you not to make rash statements now.

‘Soraya?’ At the Emir’s questioning tone, she dragged her gaze to the weathered, stern face of the older man. ‘What are your feelings for this man?’

He spoke with a gravity that confirmed all her fears for Zahir. Had he destroyed in one moment everything he’d worked for? She knew how much his position, his work—and above all this man’s regard meant to him. Dismay gnawed.

She sensed the horror of the onlookers and knew he’d just willingly given up all he’d strived for. For
her
.

Yet she couldn’t stop the elation singing in her bloodstream. Her lips curved in a smile she hadn’t a hope of hiding.

‘I love him.’ She turned to Zahir. Pulling free of her father’s hold, she stepped closer to the man who stood poised as if for battle, alone against the crowd. ‘I love him with all my heart.’

She no longer heard the others. No longer noticed the older men. All she knew was the dawning light in Zahir’s clear gaze. The pride and love that softened his severe features as his eyes devoured her. The sweet joy that filled her.

She could scarcely believe it.
He loved her.

Not only that, he had declared it in defiance of protocol, of tradition, of everything that stood between them.

How long they remained there, gazes enmeshed, cocooned
from the uproar, Soraya didn’t know. Finally the Emir’s voice penetrated. He spoke in deep, carrying tones.

‘My kinsman Zahir’s announcement has rather pre-empted my own. I’ve brought you all here today as witnesses.’

Soraya spun around, alarm rising. He couldn’t mean to continue with the wedding now?
Surely
he couldn’t? She started forward in protest but a hand stopped her.

‘Wait, Soraya.’ It was Zahir’s voice in her ear, quelling the worst of her panic. His fingers engulfed hers and she squeezed back. If they were to be parted now …

Her face flamed as she faced the crowd, read the strain on her father’s features and the avid curiosity of so many strangers.

The Emir spoke again. ‘I called you here because it’s been my intention for some time to abdicate.’

Shocked silence greeted his words. Zahir’s fingers spasmed on hers and she heard his swift intake of breath.

‘That decision will affect others.’ He turned and Soraya found herself meeting kindly hazel eyes. There was no trace of the anger she’d anticipated in his face.

‘In the circumstances, it would be unreasonable of me to ask my betrothed to feel committed to me now I’ve taken a decision which will so substantially alter her future.’

He was letting her off the hook?

A buzz of questions and protests surfaced but Soraya couldn’t take them in. All she could process was the solid warmth of Zahir beside her, his strength flowing into her from their linked hands and the knowledge she was free.

The Emir raised a hand as he turned back to the crowd and silence fell. ‘I have of course thought carefully about a successor. A man of my own blood. A man who has proven himself capable and trustworthy in so many capacities. A man who just this week saved our peace negotiations when they were in danger of foundering.’

He turned and all eyes followed the direction of his gaze. ‘I propose Zahir Adnan El Hashem as my most worthy successor.’

Soraya paced the antechamber, oblivious to its luxurious furnishings and breathtaking view over the city. What was happening? Her nerves crawled with impatience. She’d felt revolt in the air back there, fuelled by shock and Zahir’s uncompromising stance over her.

Her father had ushered her here, away from curious eyes, while the future of the nation was decided. He’d been stunned by the scene in the audience chamber. But, once she’d confirmed she really was in love, he’d proved staunchly supportive, only leaving when she forced him to go and take his part in the deliberations.

The door to the antechamber opened and Soraya swung round, ready to throw herself into Zahir’s arms. His eyes met hers, glittering with raw emotion, and her heart juddered in the aftershock of that connection.

He loved her …

But he wasn’t alone. The Emir walked beside him.

Soraya clasped her hands together and forced herself to be still, dread rising as she saw Zahir’s grim expression and the Emir’s weary one.

‘How could you do it?’

Soraya opened her mouth then realised the question came from Zahir’s lips and that he was standing in front of the Emir, legs planted aggressively wide.

‘It was necessary,’ the older man said.

‘Necessary!’ Zahir’s deep voice rose to a pitch she’d never heard before. He sounded on the verge of violence. ‘You
used
her.’

‘I regret that.’ The Emir cast her a troubled look.

‘Regret?’ Zahir’s hands fisted at his sides. ‘You shackled a young, unsuspecting girl to you with no thought of what that might do to her? How
trapped
she might feel? How distressed?’

Soraya rushed forward and grabbed his arm. It trembled with repressed fury. His other hand covered hers possessively and she leaned into him, still dazed by the fact she could. He wanted her, loved her.

The tension in Zahir’s strong frame shocked her. As if it would take just one careless word to unleash violence.

His anger on her behalf was like a comforting blanket, reminding her she wasn’t alone any more.

‘I’d lost my wife, the love of my life,’ the older man said, his voice hollow. ‘I think now you both have some idea how that felt.’ Soraya felt a quiver of distress pass through Zahir. Or was it through her? The thought of losing him now she’d finally found him made her clutch tighter.

The Emir heaved a deep sigh. ‘To rule, I had to be married.’ His gaze shifted to Soraya. ‘Or betrothed.’

He spread his hands wide. ‘You remember how things were then, Zahir, how unready the nation was for another ruler. And there was no logical successor.’ His lips quirked. ‘Though one young man had caught my eye. I knew with experience one day he’d make a fine emir.’

‘The illegitimate son of a brutal tyrant?’ Zahir’s words bit like bullets.

‘The honourable, capable man I’m proud to call kin, however distant the connection.’ The Emir paused. ‘I’ve been weary a long time, Zahir. A ruler needs a helpmeet. I’m ready to retire to my country estate and study the stars, read my books and watch your children grow.’

Heat suffused Soraya’s cheeks at his direct look. The idea of carrying Zahir’s babies made a pulse beat deep in her womb.

‘But Zahir isn’t married. How could you know …?’ Her voice trailed off in the face of the older man’s smile.

‘I knew Zahir would have no trouble finding a bride. It’s time he was settled.’

But Zahir wasn’t to be distracted. ‘You brought Soraya into an untenable situation.’

The Emir nodded. ‘I’d planned today to annul the betrothal on the grounds of my abdication. That would leave Soraya’s reputation unblemished. I hadn’t anticipated your announcement.’

‘But it doesn’t go anywhere near making up for the trauma she suffered.’

‘Zahir!’ She tugged at his arm. ‘It’s all right now, truly.’ And it was. Miraculously, it was. She’d have gone through far more than anxiety over her royal betrothal if it meant having the man she loved.

He turned and looked down at her. His breath on her face was a soft caress. The look in his eyes sheer heaven.

‘I owe you my deepest apologies, Soraya.’ Dimly she was aware of the Emir bowing, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from Zahir’s. The way he looked at her was like dawn’s fresh promise after an endless night. A moment later the door snicked shut and they were alone. Finally.

‘Is it true?’

Zahir lifted her hand and kissed it, turned it over and pressed his lips to the centre of her palm. Lightning jagged through her veins and lit up her senses. His eyes glinted with promise, like cool oasis water in the desert.

‘It’s true, my love. I adore you. And I’ll never let you go.’ His voice dropped to a gruff bass rumble that made her insides melt. ‘If you’ll have me.’

‘But in Rome … ‘

He pressed a finger to her lips.

‘In Rome I was a fool. I was so caught up making plans and anticipating problems I forgot the most important thing of all: love.’ He smiled and a sunburst exploded in her heart. ‘I’ve wanted you since the night I saw you in Paris.’

‘But wanting isn’t love.’

‘And I’ve loved you almost as long. The more I learned about you the less I could resist.’ His finger on her mouth moved in a slow, seductive stroke along her bottom lip that sent delight shivering through her. ‘The question is, do you want me?’

Stunned, her eyes widened. ‘Of course I do. How can you doubt it?’

‘Because right now the royal council of elders is debating whether I should become Emir of Bakhara. It’s by no means a done deal, and there’ll be a lot of negotiating, but I need to know what you think. You didn’t want a royal life. You wanted
more than royal duty and who can blame you?’ He paused and gathered her close so her heart beat against his, that single pulse all the stronger for being shared. ‘I’ll step away from it if that’s what you want. I couldn’t accept without your agreement.’

‘Zahir!’ She pulled away as far as his encircling arm allowed. ‘You can’t do that. You’re made for the position.’ She couldn’t imagine anyone better suited. The knowledge filled her with pride. ‘Unless you don’t want it?’

Green eyes held hers, unblinking. ‘I won’t lie. The challenge of it is all I could ever want. Except for you.’ His voice deepened and sent threads of gossamer silk trawling over her sensitive skin till she quivered. ‘I’d rather have you, Soraya. That’s my choice.’

Her heart swelled as she stopped his words with her lips. ‘Then it’s just as well you don’t have to choose.’ Something inside broke at the thought he’d give up all he’d worked for if it meant keeping her. She felt humbled. At the same time determination filled her. She’d be the best wife an emir could have. ‘I’d rather be yours than anything else in the world, my darling.’

‘You’ll be mine? Even if it means being wife to the Emir?’ His voice was raw with disbelief. His hands shook as he pulled her closer. ‘You can pursue your engineering, whatever you want. It won’t be all duty. I swear.’

She cupped his beautiful, questioning face in her hands, marvelling that he was hers. ‘Well, there will be hardships, I know. Think of all the shopping I’ll have to do to look the part if you’re made Emir. The shoes, the clothes …’ Her breath escaped in a gasp as his marauding hands investigated the sheer silk of her bodice. ‘Zahir!’

‘The attentions of your virile husband?’

‘That will never be a hardship.’ Soraya smiled with all the joy in her heart. She couldn’t believe the world could hold such happiness.

‘Just as well.’ His head lowered, blotting out the elegant room, and the world faded away.

T
HE
oasis encampment vibrated with the hoof beats of so many horses, all beautifully caparisoned, all bearing horsemen in traditional garb. Their white robes shimmered in the moonlight, their heirloom weapons glinting.

The women had just left in a fleet of luxury four-wheel drives back to the capital.

Soraya’s breath caught at the spectacle of Bakhara’s strongest and finest wheeling their horses out of the oasis.

The slightest of breezes feathered her dress and she shivered, not with cold, but with delight at the scene that wouldn’t have looked out of place in some old romantic tale. An instant later warm hands clasped her arms, pulling her back against a strong, solid body.

A
sigh of pleasure escaped her lips. It had been so long, a month in fact, since she’d felt Zahir so close.

Even through her silks and his fine cottons, his heat branded her. She snuggled back against him, revelling in the possessive tightening of his grip, the hitch in his breathing and his burgeoning hardness against her buttocks.

She shimmied back as delicious languor filled her.

‘Minx,’ Zahir growled as a salute of rifle shots thundered in the night sky. ‘Wave for our audience,
habibti
.’

Soraya lifted her arm then moaned softly as he ground his pelvis hard against her. Rills of desire ran through her body, pooling deep inside.

The last of the riders disappeared over the ridge, leaving them sole occupants of the oasis.

‘I thought today would never end.’ Zahir’s lips were hot on her neck. ‘Why do Bakhari weddings take so long?’

She turned, wrapping her arms around his neck.

‘Not any wedding. The Emir’s.’

His hooded eyes glinted in the light of the nearby braziers. ‘No regrets, my love?’

‘None. Except …’ She chewed her lip, feeling delight shimmer within as Zahir’s hungry gaze honed in on her mouth. It was a wonder she didn’t explode from the heat.

‘What?’ A frown pleated his brow.

‘Except you’re wasting valuable time talking.’

With a grin that stole her heart all over again, Zahir scooped her into his arms and strode into the richly decorated tent. Antique lamps spilled multicoloured light over thick, silk rugs, embroidered cushions and the widest bed Soraya had ever seen raised on a dais at the centre of the space.

Tenderly Zahir laid her on the satin cover, then propped himself beside her.

The lamplight cast his strong features in bronze, highlighting their severe strength and above all the shimmering emotion in his eyes.

Soraya’s heart welled, reading the reflection there of all she felt.

‘Your wish is my command, lady. But be warned.’ He nuzzled the base of her neck as his fingers slid over the thin silk of her dress. Delicious tension bowed her taut body. ‘I intend to tell you often how much I love you.’

It was a promise he kept through their lifetime together.