Desert Rogues Part 2 (33 page)

“Considering this is my first official function as a princess, I'm doing great. We'll ignore the butterflies in my stomach, my knocking knees and the nearly overwhelming urge to bolt for the gardens. I have to admit I'd feel a lot more comfortable with the king's cats.”

Reyhan smiled. “You're charming and well-spoken. Everyone is impressed.”

His compliment made her beam. Just then her parents walked up. They were actually smiling. Could this evening produce any more surprises?

“Kitten, you look beautiful,” her father said. “Nearly as lovely as your mother.” He kissed his wife's cheek.

Emma's mother dimpled. “Oh, George, you're just saying that.” She leaned close to her daughter. “Isn't this party wonderful? We met that action star your father likes so much. Johnny Blaze. He was very pleasant, although his girlfriend looks thin enough to need Third World aid. And did you see the former president? He was very nice, too. Oh, and the king told us he's sending us on a cruise on his private yacht. We're going to explore the Mediterranean for a couple of weeks.”

Emma nearly dropped her champagne glass. “You're going?”

“Of course. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He said the boat's captain knows all the best places to take us.”

Her father winked. “It will be like a second honeymoon.”

Janice Kennedy actually giggled, then waved at Emma and Reyhan. “You two kids enjoy yourself. We have more famous people to meet.”

Emma watched them walk off. “That was pretty amazing. I owe the king big-time. Not that I don't love my folks. I do. But they can be—”

“Oppressive?”

She smiled. “Absolutely. And a little judgmental. I hope they enjoy their cruise.”

“I'm sure they will.”

And she and Reyhan would be able to spend time together without her parents hanging around. The only trick would be getting him out of his office and paying attention to her. For that she would need a plan—and she would come up with one, just as soon as the champagne-induced fuzziness wore off.

The orchestra struck up another song, one that made her want to be in Reyhan's arms. She looked around and saw several of the guests dancing. They swayed to the music and laughed.

“You are more easy to read that usual,” Reyhan said, taking her glass from her and setting it on a table in the corner. “Come. I will dance with you.”

She was so pleased, she didn't bother to worry that he was doing her a favor. Not when he pulled her into his arms and held her close. If only the song could last forever, she thought happily.

Reyhan rubbed his hands against Emma's back and wished they were alone. Rather than dancing to music he wished to move with her in other ways. Perhaps it was the night, or how she looked or the invitation he saw in her eyes, but for some reason his resistance to her charms was weaker than ever.

He wanted her. More frightening than the desire was the truth that he wanted her in and out of his bed. He wanted to be with her, talk with her. He wanted to learn her secrets, discuss the future, name children and grow old with her. He wanted her to be his wife in every sense of the word.

He had the answer to his question about the baby. There wasn't one and he couldn't risk creating one with her. Yes, there was protection and it could be used, but that wasn't the point. He had escaped the possibility and he would be a fool to risk a pregnancy.

But he had always been a fool where Emma was concerned. From the first moment he'd met her that night on campus. She had smiled at him and he had been lost.

She swayed with him, sighing softly and snuggling close. She belonged, he thought. Whether laughing with his people in the desert or conversing with heads of state. She fit in. She made people feel at ease and never expected to be the center of attention. She was smart, kind and a woman of honor.

The fire always lurking below the surface flared to life and began to consume him. The need grew until he had no choice but to give in. He took her hand in his and pulled her toward a small alcove behind on of the decorated pillars.

“But the dance isn't over,” Emma said. “Can't we finish the dance?”

Instead of answering, he drew her close and kissed her.

She melted into his embrace, parting her lips instantly and clinging to him. She stroked his tongue with her own and moaned softly. Her hands slipped under his jacket where she rubbed his back.

“Better than dancing,” she whispered when he pulled back to kiss her jaw, then her neck. “I'll give up dancing for kissing you anytime.”

He nibbled the sensitive skin below her ear and made her groan. She reached for his hands and brought them to her breasts.

As he cupped her full curves, he stared into her eyes and saw an answering passion there.

“Make love with me,” she pleaded.

He knew how right it would feel. How good things would be between them. He knew she was wet to his hard, yielding and aroused. He knew he could claim her, mark her, make her his. And he knew the price he would pay if he did.

Without saying a word, he dropped his hands to his sides, turned and walked away. Emma's soft cry of pain made him pause, but only for a second. Then he resumed his stride and left the ballroom without looking back.

E
mma couldn't tell how much of the ache in her body came from her champagne hangover and how much came from humiliation. It wasn't just that Reyhan had left her alone at the party, it was that he'd kissed her and touched her, making her think he wanted her, and then he'd walked away. She felt both hurt and bruised, as if he'd been playing kick ball with her heart.

She curled up in the dining room chair and tried to work up some interest in the breakfast laid out there, but it wasn't happening. She'd taken a walk on the balcony encircling this level of the palace and that hadn't helped, either. Maybe she should shower and see if she could wash away the sense of having been a fool for a man who hadn't even noticed.

She stood and stretched. The good news is her parents were heading off to have a good time. The cruise was leaving that afternoon. As far as she could tell, they hadn't witnessed her humiliation, so she wasn't going to have to talk about it with them. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to stop thinking about it.

She headed for the bathroom. What had gone wrong? One second Reyhan had been kissing her as if he'd really enjoyed it. He'd been the one to pull her into the alcove, he'd been the one touching her. Except she'd brought his hands to her breasts. Had he disliked her being aggressive? Did
he
need to be in charge?

She didn't want to think that was true. He'd never been weird about having to “be the man.” Not that she had a whole lot of sexual experience with him or anyone. Had she freaked him out when she'd—

Emma had been so deep in thought she hadn't noticed the steam and heat in the bathroom. It was only as she came around the corner and saw Reyhan stepping out of the shower that she realized she wasn't alone.

He was wet and naked. Water dripped from his arms and legs, from his hair. Droplets ran down his cheeks. Her gaze met his and she found herself unable to turn away.

In less than two seconds, she went from hurt and hungover to hungry. She wanted to touch him all over and have him touch her back. She was aware of his arousal growing, thickening. As if he was getting as turned on as she was.

She licked her lips. “What are you doing here? You're usually gone long before I wake up.”

“I went riding at sunrise and came back to shower.”

He was now fully erect. The sight of him made her midsection clench. He obviously wanted her, so why was he just standing there?

He reached out his arm. For one brief heartbeat, she thought he was going to pull her close. Instead he grabbed a towel and turned his back on her.

“I'll be done in a few minutes.”

It was a very polite invitation to leave.

Emma dropped her head, realized the sudden burning in her eyes came from unshed tears and fled to her bedroom. She closed the door behind herself and leaned against it.

Ten days ago she'd considered the king's insistence that she stay for another two months a stroke of good fortune. Now it was torture—a prison sentence that trapped her with a man who wanted nothing to do with her.

 

Reyhan read his e-mail without understanding what any of it said. Instead of words he saw Emma's hurt eyes and the tears that had filled them as she turned away from him and fled the bathroom. Two hours and three meetings later, he hadn't been able to erase the memory of her confusion and pain.

He'd caused her that pain. No matter how much he wanted to escape the truth, it remained. He'd never meant to hurt her and the need to make it up to her was strong.

He instantly thought of returning to their room and offering her what they both wanted. That would ease the throbbing inside of him and hopefully bring her pleasure. But he couldn't risk it for himself and he wouldn't make her promises he did not intend to keep.

Determined to lose himself in his work, he returned his attention to his e-mail. An hour or so later, his phone buzzed and his assistant announced that Will was on the phone.

“There's been a change in circumstances,” his head of security said as soon as Reyhan came on the line.

Reyhan swore. “What?”

“I'm holding Fadl.”

Fadl was the son of a prominent chief. “What happened?”

“He was caught stealing drilling equipment. Two other men were with him.”

Reyhan frowned. “Did he say why he wanted it?”

“He's not talking. I have a few theories of my own. He could sell it on the black market and make a few bucks.”

“That sounds like too much work for him and his friends.”

“Agreed. He could also sabotage it somehow and then return it to inventory. When the replacement parts were put into service, we could have a pretty impressive disaster.”

Reyhan shook his head. Was that possible? Had the boys decided to act on their threats? “We're going to have to inspect all parts in inventory and anything put into service in the past few months.”

“I've already got men on that. I'm also rounding up the rest of his buddies. They've scattered so it may take a while.”

“Keep on it. I'll be there in a couple of hours.”

“Good. Maybe Fadl will talk to you. I'm getting nowhere.”

“I'll see what I can do. As the prince, I can make certain threats to his family he wouldn't believe from you. I'll be there shortly.”

“We'll be waiting.”

Reyhan hung up the phone and considered his options. While he had been willing to keep his bargain with the chiefs up to a point, the rules had now changed. If Fadl was stealing—or worse, sabotaging—then he and his friends had to be stopped. Being young and sons of chiefs would not protect them anymore.

He called his assistant into his office and made arrangements for his meetings to be rescheduled. Once he'd reserved the helicopter and told the pilots where they were going, he walked to his father's offices. The guards there waved him inside, where he found the king on the phone.

“Reyhan,” his father said cheerfully when he'd hung up. “What brings you to me this fine morning?”

“Will has detained Fadl, Bihjan's son.” He quickly recounted what his security chief had told him.

King Hassan didn't look happy. “Have they moved from making threats to acting on them?”

“That's what I plan to find out. Will is going to invite Fadl's friends to join him in custody. We'll send a team in to search their camp. If they've already sabotaged replacement parts we should find evidence. Regardless, all the equipment will be inspected.”

“Which means shutting down production for a few days.”

Reyhan had already done the calculations. “We'll be back online at the end of the week.” He shook his head. “There is also the possibility this was Fadl's plan all along. To get caught in such a way that we would have to shut down. But I won't take the risk. All the wells will be inspected.”

“What are the international ramifications?”

“Minimal. We'll issue a statement saying we're running scheduled inspections, and production for the next month will be increased to make up the difference.”

The king raised his eyebrows. “But the inspections aren't scheduled.”

“They are now.”

“Good point. When do you leave?”

“As soon as we're done here.”

“I'm sure Emma will enjoy the trip.”

Reyhan stared at his father. “You can't be serious. I am not taking her with me.”

“Of course you are. You already have their leader in custody and will soon have the rest of his men. She won't be in any danger. If you're truly concerned about her standing out, have her put on native dress. I'm sure she'll look especially fetching.”

Reyhan glanced at the sleeping tabby on the sofa in the corner and thought about throwing the creature at his father. But he recognized the stubborn look in the king's eyes and knew he didn't have a choice. Take Emma. It was a ridiculous request, and he refused to acknowledge the sudden pleasure he felt.

He left his father and headed for his rooms. At least Fadl's activities had been more passive than violent. Reyhan wouldn't have to worry about Emma walking into the middle of a gunfight.

He steeled himself, vowing not to react when he saw her. She sat on the sofa, reading and looked up when he entered.

“I have to go into the desert,” he said. “I'll be gone a day or two. The king has suggested you accompany me.”

Her green eyes were wide and unreadable. She looked both hurt and broken. As if her spirit had received one too many mortal blows.

That was his doing, he acknowledged shamefully. He'd been the one to reject her over and over. He reached for the phone and pressed three buttons. As he waited for his call to be answered, he wondered if there was some way he could explain so that she would understand and see this wasn't about her. Not really. His actions were about himself. Then he admitted he doubted that information would be of much comfort to her.

He made his request, hung up and returned his attention to her.

She hadn't moved, except to close the book. “Are they for me?” she asked, referring to the traditional garments he had ordered.

“Yes. I'll need you to wear them while we're at the camp. I don't expect any trouble, but regardless, they'll keep you safe.”

“You don't want me to go with you,” she said flatly.

“What I want isn't important.”

“It is to me.”

He stood behind a club chair and rested his hands on the back. “This is business. There has been an arrest. I'm confident everything will go smoothly but as I am not completely sure, I would prefer you not be there.”

“So this is only about keeping me safe?”

He nodded.

“I don't believe you. Wanting me to stay is about more than that.” She rose and faced him. “I want to speak to the king and tell him you find my presence intolerable. There's no reason for me to stay here and both of us to be tortured. I don't believe that's his purpose. Once he knows there is no hope for a reconciliation, then he'll agree to the divorce and you'll be free of me.”

As she spoke, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze with a confidence that impressed him. The frightened little girl she had been was completely gone and in her place was a self-sufficient woman.

She stood before him, offering him his freedom and all he wanted was to pull her close and claim her as his own forever. He longed for her with a need that defied description and still he would let her go.

“When we return,” he told her, “we will both talk to the king.”

Light faded from her eyes, as if the last flame of her spirit had been extinguished. Reyhan wanted to move closer, to touch her and tell her his reasons were not what she thought, but he stayed where he was and dug his fingers into the back of the chair.

“I guess I should pack a few things,” she said tonelessly. “What do I wear under the robes?”

“Whatever will be most comfortable. The days are hot, the nights cool. Jeans or slacks will give you freedom of movement.”

She nodded and headed for her bedroom. He retreated to his quarters where he quickly collected a few belongings. By the time he returned to the living room, the traditional robes had been left on the sofa.

 

Emma didn't recognize the woman in the mirror, but she didn't know how much of that had to do with the yards of fabric that covered her from head to toe and how much had to do with her bleeding to death from the inside out.

Reyhan wanted her to leave.

She supposed she'd known there were problems and that he didn't want to sleep with her again, but that was a far cry from having him practically jump with joy at the thought of never seeing her again. She'd hoped to shock him with her suggestion that she speak with the king and ask to leave sooner. Instead he'd agreed with her plan. He was going to get everything he wanted and she would spend the rest of her life in love with a man who didn't want to be with her.

Emma didn't know exactly
when
she'd fallen in love with him, or if it had been with her, buried for the past six years. Did it matter? More important than the how or when was the reality of losing Reyhan for a second time.

He escorted her to a helicopter. Nervous excitement at flying in one for the first time eased some of her heartache. She strapped herself in and picked up the headset Reyhan pointed to. When the engine roared to life and the rotors began to move, she understood that the headset was the only way they would be able to communicate.

“We're going about a hundred miles into the desert,” he said into his microphone. “To the western edge of the central oil fields.”

She could see his lips moving and hear the sound coming through her speakers. The helicopter rose.

Emma clutched the armrests as the aircraft zoomed up and forward, moving dizzyingly fast. The sensation was very different from a plane, but not unpleasant. She watched the edge of the city disappear under them, then there was only the vast stretches of nothing.