Desert Orchid: The Desert Princes: Book 1 (9 page)

But tonight was only about dinner. Nothing more.

She would keep it casual, after all Khalid was a healthy male in his sexual prime and it was only natural that she felt attracted to him. But the trouble was he only had to enter a room and her hormones went crazy.

Charisse gave Yasmin a poor excuse for a smile and pressed the flat of her hand to her stomach. "I feel sick with nerves."

Yasmin merely cocked her head, took her hand to lead her to the door.

"You have nothing to worry about. My nephews' behaviour has been a welcome surprise. They’ve been very polite and respectful to me." Charisse zoned out the older woman’s voice as they left the apartment and entered the elevator with Arabella bringing up the rear. Her sister-in-law appeared not to notice her lack of a response as she added in a sly tone, "And they are both incredibly handsome, don’t you think?"

Over Yasmin’s head Arabella sent Charisse a wicked grin as her dark-brown eyes danced into hers.

That grin made Charisse narrow her eyes. "Why are you not dressed?" she demanded to know. "I’m certain I invited you to join us for dinner this evening."

He bodyguard gave her wide eyes.

"Did you? I don’t remember. Perhaps another time," Arabella said in a silky voice that didn't fool her queen for a moment. She knew her bodyguard regarded the invitation to dine with the princes as a break of protocol. Arabella had a stubborn streak a mile wide. However, as far as Charisse was concerned, Arabella had disobeyed a direct order. But before she could respond, they were entering the formal reception room to find both El Haribe Princes standing beside the magnificent fireplace of black marble. The nights were cold in the mountains. And Charisse was aware that her bodyguard had snapped to attention at her side.

Khalid strolled towards them like a big black cat, his eyes scanning Charisse from head to toe and back again. A smile of appreciation, of approval, tugged the corners of that marvellous mouth. He was dressed in a suit of dark grey silk with a white shirt and no tie. His glossy hair was tied at the neck accentuating his slashing bone structure. He looked like a rock star.

Without hesitation he moved in to take both her hands in his and brought them to his lips. All the while those penetrating eyes pinned hers without blinking. The familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the clean male heat from his body. The smell of him wound around her and her throat went bone dry.

He bent to kiss her, his breath burning a path across her cheek as he whispered in her ear,

"You look amazing."

Before she could respond, he’d taken her hand in his while the other snuck around her narrow waist and pulled her into his side in a possessively masculine gesture that weakened her knees.

"Sarif, meet Her Royal Highness Queen Charisse," Khalid drawled in a way that made her cheeks burn along with an overwhelming urge to run for her life.

Prince Sarif El Haribe sent his brother a bland look before his dark eyes, sharp and watchful, met hers.

He smiled.

Charisse realised she’d been holding her breath wondering what kind of reception she’d receive from the eldest of King Abdullah’s sons. But Sarif was kindness personified as he took her hand from his brother and bent to press his forehead to her fingertips.

He straightened and returned her hand into his brother's keeping.

"My pleasure. I am so sorry for your loss. My uncle was a very private, a very unique, man."

Sarif’s accent was British rather than American, although she picked up the slight transatlantic drawl in his speech, too. He was as tall and certainly as charismatic as his brother, but she didn’t receive that strange hum of attraction when she held his hand as she did with Khalid.

Her eyes stung as she returned his smile. "Thank you. Amir was a wonderful man."

As Yasmin exchanged greetings with Sarif, Charisse found herself towed to a low couch.

Khalid tucked her into a corner and sat next to her, his big body turned towards hers and his arm stretched across the back of the couch, effectively blocking her in. His hand found hers and her eyes rose to meet his as again he took her fingertips to his lips.

She simply was not used to public displays of affection and couldn't help the heat that scorched her neck and her cheeks.

His little chuckle of delight made her bite down hard on her bottom lip.

Her eyes flew to his and the proprietorial look in those eyes seriously unnerved her.

What they talked about over dinner she never knew since her entire being was too aware of Khalid. Of the stroke of his finger over the back of her hand. Of his solicitous attention to her every need. An attention that had Yasmin beaming benevolently upon them. But his behaviour left Charisse feeling terribly trapped and claustrophobic.

Swallowing her growing anxiety about the way she was being treated in public, Charisse wondered if the night would ever end. But Sarif was talking to her now and she paid attention to the conversation realising it was about literacy, specifically adult literacy.

More than delighted to discuss her favourite topic, she leaned over the table and for many minutes she forgot all about Khalid, forgot all about her overwhelming attraction to him, forgot all about wedding plans and her future as she explained the programme of mobile education centres, which had Sarif firing questions.

Sitting forward, using her hands to express her enthusiasm for her pet project, Charisse spoke, "The point is that our people are nomads. They pack-up and travel to who knows where, but the Sheiks keep in touch with our education centres and mobile health centres via satellite technology powered by solar energy. If there’s one resource we have plenty of it is the sun. Of course things change, but when the tribes arrive in Onuur we have in-depth records of births, deaths and marriages, which make it reasonably simple to plan ahead."

Sarif frowned.

"So bringing the tribes into the twenty-first century, into the cities and towns is not where you see growth?"

Charisse shrugged.

"For many years Asim studied the histories of our peoples. As I said, they are nomads and often do not adapt well to city living. Asim firmly believed it was up to each tribe to decide how they wanted to live. It is not for us to force our technology and modern ways upon them. Surely that’s the whole point of being free? To be free to choose their own destiny? Therefore we decided to take education, support and medical help to them. The key was to gain the trust of the men but more importantly, the women. Even though they defer to their men folk, women are the most forward thinking and open minded people among the tribes. We’ve sent four bright students, girls, to Oxford this year and many more to medical school in the United States and the United Kingdom, funded by those countries, and the students are all determined to return home to help their people."

Enthusiasm gleamed in Sarif’s dark eyes as he leaned forward and he was about to speak when Charisse became aware of strong fingers massaging the sensitive skin of her neck in a possessive gesture that made her breath hitch in her throat.

"I believe we have a department of education who oversees all the projects," Khalid drawled in a silky voice that had her heart kick against her ribs. He continued, "Charisse promised to show me the gardens, particularly the orchids. And with the moon full this evening, I cannot think of a more romantic setting for me to woo my future wife."

The hostile tone had Sarif catch his brother’s eye and blink in a surprise that mortified Charisse.

By her jolt of surprise, Charisse hoped it wasn't obvious that she’d made Khalid no such promise.

Sarif bowed his head and sat back, deferring to his brother.

Khalid stood, took her hand and Charisse realised she had no choice but to go with him as Sarif wished them goodnight.

They strolled through the palace, out into the cool night, and into the garden.

And Charisse was acutely aware that Khalid El Haribe was not a happy man.

The tension rolling off him in waves made the jumpy nerves in her tummy wind even tighter. Something had upset him. Even though she wracked her brain, she couldn't imagine what on earth she'd said to make him so angry.

Leading the way past a magnificent fountain trickling water through many rock pools, she sank to the edge of a wide bench made of cool marble. Tipping her head back to study the night sky, she wondered what on earth was the matter with the man she’d promised to marry,who now paced back and forth before her like a big black panther.

Hands thrust into his trouser pockets, Khalid stood before her and glowered and glared into her face.

"Just what was all that about?"

Charisse was tired.

She was stressed.

And she was, she realised, seriously ticked off with his attitude.

Her chin came up.

"You’ve lost me. I was talking to your brother about his education programme in Quaram, comparing it to the one we’ve implemented here in Onuur." Her eyebrows rose. "What’s the matter, Khalid? If you’re not the centre of the known universe you simply throw a little temper tantrum and interrupt a serious conversation about vulnerable people?"

She stood.

And realised immediately that those dark eyes had narrowed into slits.

The way his mouth went tight she realised they were going to have a scene.

Oh, God, she hated scenes.

Then annoyance with him and with herself that she was even considering appeasing a person who was behaving like a spoiled and indulged child, Charisse decided it was just too bad if Khalid didn’t like the truth because he’d better get used to it.

Okay, her legs felt like rubber and her stomach lurched.

But she forced herself to get over it.

Her hands rested on her hips and she spread her legs.

"What the
hell
is your damn problem?"

Khalid blinked twice.

And simply stared at someone who’d morphed from a shrinking violet into a spitting kitten and who was looking at him entirely without fear.

What had happened to the shy, retiring, broken-hearted widow?

The woman standing before him now looked as if she could rip out his heart.

Those big blue eyes stared into his in a way that made his lungs tight and he found himself trying very hard not to laugh.

God, she was simply amazing, standing there looking ready to punch him and seriously annoyed that he’d interrupted her cosy little chat with his brother.

And that thought brought his mind back to how he’d felt sitting between them like a lemming listening to his brother and Charisse discuss things that had made him feel increasingly uneasy.

Why?

The realisation now hit him that he’d felt uncomfortable because Charisse and Sarif spoke the same language. They cared desperately about their people and the way they lived their lives. They worried about what was best for them and how to help them prosper.

And yes, he was honest enough with himself to admit that the way his brother and his future wife had connected did make him feel somehow... inadequate.

But was it their fault that he felt somehow less than they were?

For the first time in his life Khalid had to admit that he was responsible for his own feelings.

All these thoughts and more raced through his mind as he stood staring down at the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and so did something else.

Fear.

A heavy stone of fear settled in his gut.

Fear that he’d never measure up to his father, his mother, his brother and his future wife.

Fear that he’d fail again to be a man, a good husband, a good father and a good son made something like panic grip him by the throat.

Jesus, what had made him think he could do this?

Watching him very carefully, Charisse narrowed her blue eyes into slits now as she stared up at him, and Khalid had the deeply uncomfortable feeling that she could read his mind.

"I do believe you’re jealous," she murmured.

He opened his mouth to refute the outrageous suggestion because it had been crystal clear to him that although his brother and Charisse were evenly matched intellectually, they were not remotely attracted to one another.

But then again, surely it might sound better to appear jealous rather than insecure?

There had always been a competitive sibling rivalry between him and Sarif, which brought into his mind the one thing that had seriously annoyed him.

"You were the one who said you would much rather marry my brother, remember?"

Her eyes never left his as she frowned now and said nothing for an unremitting moment.

And all the while those narrowed eyes never left his.

Again, he had the spooky feeling she was reading his mind.

Charisse, Khalid was coming to realise, was one sharp cookie.

"You don’t want it, do you?"

Confused, he blinked.