Desert Orchid: The Desert Princes: Book 1 (20 page)

Khalid strode quickly up the stairs, and down a wide corridor to Charisse's rooms.

Sitting on a chair outside the room, he noticed there was a new nurse on duty.

Her dark eyes went wide when she saw him carrying Charisse.

She followed them into the bedroom and stood by as Khalid laid her on the bed.

"Is it time for her painkiller?" he asked.

It wasn't unusual for new staff to be nervous around him, but he frowned at the way the young nurse was trembling.

She kept her eyes downcast and nodded.

"Yes, Highness. I need to inspect the dressing on her wound."

Her eyes clicked to his, and he recognised surprise as he made himself comfortable in a chair.

With a flick of the wrist he indicated that she continue.

The nurse unbuttoned Charisse's top.

She unfolded a surgical pack, washed and dried her hands before snapping on latex gloves. Taking great care, she removed the dressing.

Khalid leaned forward and saw the wound no longer looked inflamed. But the livid bruise had spread under Charisse's armpit and down over her hip. The nurse inspected and re-dressed the wound. Then she turned to her bag and brought out a syringe and a small glass vial filled with clear liquid.

Her hand trembled.

Watching her, Khalid frowned.

Charisse normally took her medicine by mouth.

"What's that?"

The nurse turned to him and he saw she was very pale now with perspiration beading on her forehead.

"An anti-inflammatory. I don't want to disturb Her Royal Highness."

That statement made absolutely no sense. Of course a sharp sting would waken her.

In an instant the atmosphere in the room changed.

Khalid stood.

"Stop!"

He moved fast but not fast enough to stop the needle pierce Charisse's arm.

She moaned and blinked awake.

Khalid grabbed the nurse's slim wrist as his arm went around her neck.

His strong fingers twisted the wrist of the hand holding the syringe, and the nurse cried out as she dropped it. She sobbed, but didn't put up a struggle as Khalid roared for help.

Arabella burst into the room along with the young army medic Khalid recognised from the helicopter. The medic bent down to pick up the syringe.

"Do not touch it," Khalid bit out. "We don't know what's in it."

Now he turned to the nurse being held now by Arabella.

He grabbed her black hair, tipped up her face.

The sheer hatred seething in her eyes threw him for a moment.

"What did you give her?"

She lifted her chin. Her eyes were wild with a certain satisfaction that turned the blood in his veins to ice.

"She'll tell me," Arabella ground out as she muscled the nurse out of the room.

The medic used a tissue to pick up the vial and syringe to inspect them.

"Not all of it was administered, Highness. It appears to be an opiate. She needs a receptor blocker." He rushed out of the room.

Heart thundering in his ears, Khalid took Charisse in his arms.

Her beautiful hair spilled over his arm as her head lolled forward.

He tipped up her chin.

"Talk to me!" he commanded, his voice hoarse with fear.

His thumb lifted the tissue thin skin of her eyelid. Her pupil, he saw with something like terror in his heart, was fully dilated.

Where the hell was the medic?

Moments later the physician flew into the room, ripped open the sleeve of Charisse's top and inserted the antidote into a vein.

She was so fucking fragile and helpless as she lay in his arms.

The medic measured her vital signs and still Khalid held her, he simply could not let her go.

Charisse gave a low moan.

Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to focus.

"Khalid?"

Overwhelmed, he buried his face in her neck and just inhaled the scent of her. Flowers and warm woman. Christ. Again, he'd almost lost her.

He lifted his head and her face swam as the truth almost made him sob out loud.

"I am here, my darling. I am here."

Dear God help him, he loved her.

Dropping to his knees at the side of the bed, he took her hand to his lips as his heart threatened to explode through his ribs. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. To lose her would destroy him in ways he dare not contemplate. Then other truths hit him. She wasn't the only one who was vulnerable. Love made him vulnerable, too. His love for her made him face up to the truth. He'd failed to protect her.

The young medic’s face was pale but determined.

His dark eyes met Khalid's as he listened to the beat of her heart through a stethoscope.

"I can give her epinephrine, adrenaline. It should make her more alert and assist her heart and lungs. With your permission, Highness?"

Khalid nodded.

While the medic administered the medication, Khalid kept a hold of her hand, brought it to his mouth to nuzzle icy cold fingers. His eyes never left her face. She was too white. And moments later he almost wept as her fingers squeezed his weakly in response. All the while the doctor listened to her heart and lungs.

He smiled now at Khalid and nodded. "We need to monitor her, but the worst is over."

With difficulty, Khalid swallowed the rock wedged too tight in his throat.

"Can I have some time alone with her?"

The medic nodded once. "Of course, I will be outside when you need me."

When the bedroom door closed, Khalid laid his head gently on the flat belly of the woman he loved...

He took a shaky breath and inhaled her scent as Charisse's weak fingers attempted to explore his hair.

"That's the last time I'll
ever
drink champagne," she murmured.

He found himself crying and laughing at the pissed-off tone in her voice.

"Look at me, Khalid." The words, softly spoken, were a command.

He raised his head to drown in dazed blue eyes and what he read there, understanding and unconditional love, humbled him as a human being and, as a man.

She licked her lips and continued, "The time has come for nothing but truth between us. Agreed?"

He spoke from the heart, "I love you, baby." His words were the merest whisper.

Her wide smile almost made him want to weep, because he knew he wasn't man enough for her, wasn't good enough for her, or for Onuur and its peoples.

Charisse and Onuur deserved so much more.

"I love you, Rock Star."

The words brought joy to his heart. But they also brought a sense of desolation and despair. He thrust the negative emotions aside. His fears meant nothing. The most important thing was to assure her safety, and to give her his love.

He bent his head and took her soft mouth. Her lips opened under his, and he knew he'd come home. Her tongue, shy and untutored, explored his bottom lip and his whole body shuddered in response.

The breath sobbed from his throat as he buried his face in the heady cent of the delicate skin of her neck.

"Dear God, Charisse, I thought I'd lost you."

Again, his mouth took hers.

This kiss was supposed to be gentle and tender. But it didn't last. And soon a mutual hunger that could not be denied, overcame shock and fear. He clung to her as she clung to him. All that mattered was their love. A love that would endure no matter what challenges the fates threw in their path to happiness.

Three hours later, Khalid sat with his aching head in his hands listening to the heated debate raging around him.

He stood.

He'd had enough.

"Quiet!" he roared. His father, mother, brother and Arabella Faulkner simply stared at him as he continued, "Thus far I've followed your advice. I brought Charisse here believing the palace was secure. I don't care how the nurse got through your precautions. The point is that security, even here, is compromised. This is the second attempt on her life and there will not be a third. Do I make myself clear?"

Arabella took a deep breath, gave him a single nod of her head.

Bravely, she stepped closer to put forward her argument.

"To attack her here, in the palace, means the issue that faces us is much bigger than anything we could have imagined. We need to bring in specialists. I have contacts from my time in the military. Good men from the United States and the United Kingdom that we can trust and will know how to deal with what we are up against."

"How did you get the name of the traitor from the nurse?" Khalid wanted to know.

Arabella's brown eyes went flat and cold. "Sodium Thiopental. She sang every tune we wanted to hear."

King Abdullah merely nodded.

"So, the nurse is Omar's niece. And both come from a tribe banished from this land many years ago."

Khalid knew his history. In Arabia forty years was not a long time to hold a grudge. When his father ascended the throne, times had been deadly with feuds among the tribes. The desert sands had run red with the blood of the fallen. Hatred was an emotion passed from generation to generation. And from what had happened today, their enemies would never give up until they had attained their goal. The death of Charisse.

But why?

Why not go after his father, his brother, or even himself?

"If this is revenge for past sins, why attack Charisse? She is beloved by her people," he spoke his thoughts.

Arabella responded, "To destabilise the region? We only have the woman's point of view. She was acting on instructions and has no idea who is behind the assassination attempt or why. We can theorise all we like. But the person we need is Omar."

Khalid gave her such a fierce look, she blinked. "Bring in whomever you need to help us. But find him," he ordered. The tone was a dismissal. Arabella bowed her head and strode from the room.

"I suspect the attempt on Charisse's life was a last ditch attempt to stop the wedding," Sarif said.

Khalid shook his head.

"None of this makes any sense. Surely her father is aware that we will hunt him down and destroy him like a rabid dog?"

His mind churned over different scenarios, which he knew were a waste of time until they had facts. No point in worrying about what he could not do. Now was the time for action.

He turned to his father. "Has the imam arrived to perform the wedding ceremony?"

His father nodded.

Khalid continued, "Then we will be married immediately."

His family simply stared at him.

"What has Charisse got to say about this?" his mother demanded.

Khalid looked at her. "Charisse," he said. "Will do as she is told."

And was that respect in his mother's eyes? He couldn't care less. His priority was to keep his woman safe.

Sarif's dark eyes met his. "Then what?"

"Then I get her the hell out of here. Somewhere secure. And somewhere she can heal. Arabella Faulkner will fly us out tonight."

He moved to leave, but his mother placed her hand on his arm.

"Where are you going?"

Khalid shook his head. "I cannot tell you that. The less people who know our whereabouts the better."

His mother jerked back as if he'd slapped her.

Face white she spoke in a shocked whisper, "You don't trust us?"

Taking her in his arms, Khalid hugged his mother tight, and stared over her head into the stunned faces of his father and brother.

"Of course I trust you. With my life. But we've been betrayed twice. There will not be a third time."

Dressed in black jeans, a matching cashmere sweater and warm jacket to keep out the chill of a desert night, Charisse found herself bundled into the seat of an unusual looking helicopter.

A helicopter painted in matt black.

Under strict instructions from Khalid, Arabella had packed all the supplies they'd need and checked the aircraft herself.

Dressed in black jeans, sweater and boots, Khalid slid into the seat next to Arabella and indicated Charisse wear the headphones he handed her.

He turned to her, his eyes so dark and intense that her heart beat too fast in her chest.

"Can you hear me?" His voice came, crystal clear, in her ears.

She nodded and was relieved to see her husband smile.

This gorgeous, vigorous and young man was her
husband
.

She still couldn't quite believe it.

They'd been married in a ceremony put together so fast, her head was still spinning. After his declaration of love for her, and his kisses, she'd naturally assumed their wedding night might have been consummated under candlelight.