Taken by Storm (ROMANTIC REALMS COLLECTION) (16 page)

Tahj pushed himself up from the ground. “I need to talk to her.”

“Who? Bibi?”

“No! Bashea.” He dusted himself off and
strode purposefully forward.

“Oh!” Bagrat responded, finally
seeming to understand.

Bashea caught sight of
Tahj and scurried away, giving one last hurried look over her shoulder before ducking inside her tent. Tahj stood at the edge of the firelight with his hands on his hips, stymied. Bagrat clapped him on the shoulder, kicking Jahmeel awake at the same time.

“I’ve got to talk to her,” Tahj repeated.

Bagrat spun Tahj around. “I’m going to give you some advice, my friend. And, drunk as I am, I think it’s pretty good advice.” He chuckled, but then straightened, trying to appear serious. “Sober up before you talk to her.”

* * *

When Tahj entered Bashea’s tent unannounced, she spun at the sound of the tent flapping open. He felt the familiar squeeze in his chest with the accompanying race of his pulse; a feeling she never failed to give him. It was apparent she had been expecting no one and was just getting ready to climb into bed. He gazed on her form, always enchanting in the lanternlight, in its gauzy, white choli top and a long, billowing white skirt that reached the ground, leaving her midriff bare. Her hair, which was still elaborately done up from dinner, had an equally filmy, white ribbon wound through it, set off by her dark tresses, reminding him of the creek at night, silvered by the moon.

“Tahj.” She took a few stumbling steps backwards and grabbed at the post at the end of her bed, as if steeling herself. “You’re drunk.”

He shook his head vigorously, droplets of water flying from him. “No. I laid down in the creek.” He smiled stupidly. “Believe me, mountain water will sober you up in a heartbeat.”

She ignored him. “So you’re drunk and wet.”

“Bashea…” he pleaded. He was moved by the tears he saw in her eyes and by the way her chin had quivered when she first breathed his name. He took a step forward, and she threw a hand up in front of her to stop his progress. “I’ve nothing left to say, Tahj. You need to leave.” She was trying to appear strong, but her arm shook. She turned away from him.

“But damn it, Bashea, I have more I want to say to you, and you’re going to listen.” He took two swift strides, grabbing her arms and turning her to face him.

“Don’t, Tahj, please.” Her voice trembled and became weaker. “You have to leave, can’t you see?”

Why was she doing this to them? He reached for anything, and the lie came to him. And being a desperate man, he used it. “I’ve come to say goodbye, then. Surely you won’t deny me that.”
If it was goodbye she wanted, then goodbye he would give her. But in his heart, he was hoping that once she saw how much he loved her, if, maybe, his actions could persuade better than the words he’d given her, she would finally understand that they were meant to be together. She blinked away her tears, appearing stunned he was giving in. “You won’t deny me that, will you, Bashea?” He shook her slightly, his emotions raw. He could not leave her; it would break his heart.

“No…no,” she whispered.

“Good.” He bent to take her lips, clumsily at first, as he tasted the lie, but then he pushed it back and vowed only to show her the love he felt for her. He pulled away to watch her face, etched with the pleasure he aroused and the pain of being eager for even more of him.

Once he tasted her, he could only want more. Tahj pushed her back against the bed, recklessly fumbling with her hair and pulling it all down around her bare shoulders, black against bronze. “Yes, that is how it should be,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.
He reached up and gently tugged on the ribbon still loosely laced through her thick hair and then set it on the crate by her bed. His hands touched the skin along her sides, as soft as a buttercup’s petals, and ventured to her back where he found the bottom tie of her top. He knew it was wrong to be here, to be doing this with an unmarried woman, but if the woman wouldn’t marry you, what were you to do? He watched her eyes grow wide with surprise and then soft with acceptance. She reached up herself and untied the top, pulling it off over her head.

He wondered if he should say something. He wondered if he
could
say something. But how could words capture the way he was feeling? Not just the passion tingling in his veins, threatening to set him on fire, but the way his heart was filled with her, how moved he was she would lay herself bare for him, physically and emotionally, share herself with an intimacy which could allow for no turning back, no deception. He wanted to thank her for this, but the words just didn’t seem right. His lips, unable to form words, sought her heart in other ways; they cruised over her jaw, nibbled as she clung to him, then rose to meet hers.

Bashea knew at once his intentions, even as she knew her own. She let the kiss swirl slowly down inside her, making her weak. She felt his arms pull her in more tightly, possessive, and her heart leapt. But then he changed angles on the kiss, and the heat whipped into her like hell-fire, slicing and burning down to her core. She trembled with the strength of the emotions he was eliciting and with her desire for him to take her farther.

This is what she’d wanted all along, she knew now; she wanted simply to belong to him. She wanted him to hold her and make her feel safe and valued. But she knew it could not be. So she simply allowed herself to be swept along by the kiss and decided it was okay, this was better, she would allow him his one night of passion. She knew that others would think what she was doing was wrong, but if she was going to let him go forever, she needed to have this. She reached up to rake her hands through his dark hair, intent on remembering the way it felt as it slid through her fingers, the smell of his skin, the taste of his breath, the feel of his long, hard body pressed against hers. She knew she would never have another in this lifetime, for her heart truly belonged to Tahj and Tahj alone.

This was to be their one time together, and she would not be ashamed of it or regret it. Rather, she would treasure it, let each touch leave a permanent imprint on her heart. If she had to let him go, she would at least have this. His fingertips cruised across her stomach to the base of her breasts and lingered there, letting her fill his hands with her curves. He brushed his thumbs across her nipples, and she let out a purr of pleasure.

His face showed surprise when her hands found his shirt at the waist and yanked impatiently. Within seconds, his shirt lay on the floor, along with their other clothing. As if tied with a string, their hands rose from their sides and met, fingers entwined like fairytale ivy.

They stood about a foot apart, and Tahj let his eyes wander.

“You are so beautiful. So beautiful.”

He stroked the side of her face softly. She turned and pulled the covers down on her bed, sliding beneath the layers of silk and holding it open as she had one other time, inviting him to share her bed. This time he seemed to know what to do, what she wanted, and he gave to her of that full heart, melding their bodies together, slowly, sensually, letting his lips traverse her body, forcing soft, moaning urgency from her lips.

Bashea arched and let him take her higher. She had never imagined it could be like this. She forced herself not to think of this as the last time, but as the only time, the best time, the moments she would cling to forever in the still of the dark. Despite this, she found the way he touched her, looked at her, whispered her name, and made vows of his love without words so beautiful that tears squeezed from her eyes, and she fought back sobs of joy, and gratitude, and ecstasy.

When they finally lay in each other’s arms, complete, Tahj stroked her hair, and Bashea feathered a kiss along his throat. In the dark he smiled, and dozed off. She knew he believed they were now one. In the dark, she lay awake, trying to quiet her breathing. Bashea choked back the sharp edges of her weeping even as she basked in the warmth of his closeness, not wanting to wake him or ruin a single minute of their last hours.

She watched the sunrise paint across the inside surface of the tent, the glowing rays a picture on canvas. Finally, with one large sigh, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Bibi threw the tent flap wide. Bright daylight illuminated Bashea and Tahj as they lay in each other’s arms. Bashea’s hair was splayed across Tahj’s chest, his face turned toward her, his lips still touching the top of her head, their fingers threaded together on the pillow near his head. They began to stir. Bashea lifted her head, her eyes blinking. She saw Bibi hesitate in the doorway, then step inside, letting the flap close.

With
a loud intake of breath, Bashea flew up, clutching the covers to her breast. Tahj also opened his eyes.

“It’s Father
,” Bibi whispered urgently. “You had better come quickly.” Bibi glanced at Tahj and then lowered her eyes. “I will wait outside.”

Without
a word, Bashea got up and began to dress.

Tahj, too, rose and began to search for his clothing, cursing himself for not rising before dawn, like he always did, and risking Bashea’s reputation. But, in reflecting, he had seen no condemnation in Bibi’s eyes, no anger…perhaps, even, sympathy. Hearing the flutter of the tent flap Tahj looked up, and found he was alone.

* * *

Bashea and Bibi walked together without speaking at first. They nodded politely as people passed by, but once they were alone, Bashea couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Please. Let me explain.”

“There’s no need to explain,” Bibi insisted.

“Yes. Yes, there is.”

Bibi glanced over at her sister for the first time. “I do not judge you.”

“Well, you should. You should be shocked.”

Bibi tilted her head. “I was shocked. But to tell you the truth, I felt a strange surge of love for you both.”

Bashea simply stared. “What?”

“I am happy for you, Bashea. And proud of you, in a way, for being brave enough to love again after all you have been through.”

Bashea was flustered. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“You know, you never speak about that night, but on a clear evening I can hear your screams, when you dream—”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Bashea interrupted. “What is wrong with Father?”

They had reached Kamran’s tent, and Bibi pulled back the flap so Bashea could enter. “See for yourself.”

* * *

Tahj flew in the door behind Bashea, out of breath, his shirt left untied. He glanced around at all the faces that had turned his way, and then his eyes fell on Bashea. She had fallen to her knees beside her father’s bed, which was laid directly on the carpeting that covered most of the tent. He could not see her face, as she was hunched over her father’s bed, but he could see her clutching Kamran’s nearest hand desperately.

“Father! What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Nothing, my girl,” her father responded dismissively, though the edges were tight around his smile. “Just this old heart of mine.” He tried to chuckle, but it brought on a bout of coughing. Bano, who knelt on Kamran’s other side, raised a ladle of water, but the old man batted it irritably out of the way. “Tahj. Tahj,” he called, his voice strained.

Again Tahj looked at the faces gathered, as if asking permission, and when Bagrat nodded, he squatted down by Bashea. The second his gaze touched Kamran’s face Tahj knew something was terribly wrong. He was alarmed by the pallor of the older man’s skin. “Yes, Father.”

“Tahj…you love my Bashea?”

The question startled the prince, especially after having just rolled out of the bed they’d made love in.

“Father, this is unimportant…” Bashea began in an effort to deflect the question.

Tahj caught Bagrat and Jahmeel’s eyes. “Yes, I love her with my whole heart,” Tahj answered firmly. Bashea’s head bowed.

Kamran grasped Tahj arm with his free hand. “And you will take good care of her,” he reinforced, though his speech was now halting.

“Father…”

“Bashea!” Kamran barked, surprising everyone. Bashea dropped her head to her chest and began to cry
onto her father’s hand, which she still clasped tightly. Kamran softened his tone, his voice gravelly. “I am tired, Azizam, so tired. Forgive me.” Bashea looked up at him then and nodded, the tears falling freely down her face.

Kamran’s eyes shifted slowly to Tahj. “Take good care of her. Make her your wife. She is a good woman.”

“Oh, Baba!” Bashea cried.

Kamran continued as if uninterrupted. “She is a bit headstrong,” he added with an attempt at a smile, “but her heart…her heart is good as gold.”

“I know this, Father,” Tahj said gently, laying a hand on Bashea’s arm.

Kamran suddenly clutched at the cloth of his tunic over his chest, bunching it in his fist and making a struggling gurgle in his throat. The brothers and sisters exchanged panicked glances. But after a few seconds, the pain seemed to have passed. The head of the family lay panting, trying to regain his strength. He gestured for Tahj to come closer, and the prince leaned in. “You must promise me now. Promise me you will take Bashea as your own and care for her all the days of your life.”

Bashea shook her head, her tears flying everywhere.