The Defiant Princess (10 page)

Thoughts flew chaotically through her brain. It was possible Khalid was trying to get Sabrina to Rhajia, to trap her there without any means of escaping the expectation she would rule the country.

“Sabihah?” She heard the impatience in his voice.

She shook her head. “No. I'm not going. Not until you tell me whether you've told your future wife you'll be temporarily married to me. And don't call me Sabihah. My name is Sabrina.”

“We can talk about this on the plane.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and attempted to urge her into motion. “Come along now.” Each word was uttered as though she was a recalcitrant child in need of coaxing.

“We talk about this now or not at all,” she said, refusing to budge. “I need to know, in plain English, whether or not you've actually agreed to my proposal of a temporary marriage.”

The answer was in his expression before the mask of schooled features fell into place.

“You lying, cheating—”

Before she could utter another word, she was pulled against his chest. Her head tilted up so she could glare at him and her mouth opened to voice her protest, but her vocal cords simply wouldn't move as she read his intent.

“You talk too much and too loudly, Sabihah,” he told her quietly as his strong hands bracketed her face. There was an impatience and exasperation in his eyes.

All the hustle and bustle of the busy airport faded out completely, replaced by an awareness of the fast, staccato pumping of her heart against her ribcage.

This wasn't going to happen. He couldn't be meaning to kiss her—not at all, let alone here at the international terminal.

But his handsome features blurred as he lowered his head toward hers and instead of pushing him away in protest, she melted against his hard, hot strength. Her calf muscles strained as she stretched up on tiptoes so she could help him close the distance. Her eyelids fluttered closed. She inhaled the unique male scent of him, one she'd now recognise anywhere, and felt the warmth of his breath at the corner of her mouth.

Her hands curled around the lapels of his suit coat, clutching him closer. Rather than her lips clamping together in denial, they opened to him on a soft sigh of yearning invitation. Her heart rate escalated to a dizzying tempo at the first scorch of his tongue tip against her lower lip.

A quiver of sensual longing speared through her as she absorbed the touch of his hands, his tongue, and the hard length of his body. Masculine. Powerful. Demanding.

Each contact sent bursts of fire along her nerves and the flames of heat and wanting licked through every cell. The feminine core of her now burned hotter than a blast furnace and needed to be fuelled by his kisses.

Finally, his mouth claimed hers and completely obliterated their surroundings. Sabrina thought she was going to spontaneously combust when his lips moved with sensual skill against hers. His tongue made quick, erotic forays into the sensitive interior of her mouth, finding her tongue tip and engaging her in a tantalising, teasing flamenco.

Her grip tightened as her whole body trembled uncontrollably.

His deep voice rumbled against her mouth as he spoke in the language that was common to both their countries. It took her a moment to register his words, and a second longer to understand them.

My God, you are sensational
, she translated.

It wasn't the first time she'd been kissed, but it was the first time she'd been truly awakened by a kiss. Never before had a kiss caused moist heat to pool between her thighs. Of the few boyfriends she'd had at university, none of them had ever stirred her to these passionate, giddy heights.

But then, they'd been much less experienced than Khalid. And it was the thought of just how experienced he was which hurtled her back to earth with a resounding, smashing thud.

Pushing away from him, her breath coming in gasps, she glared at him. “Do you agree to my terms?”

“You're creating a scene.”

“And you kissing me didn't?” she shot back sarcastically.

“Sabihah—” he started in a reasoning tone of voice.

Summoning all of her determination, she pinned him with her eyes, and felt stronger than she'd ever felt before. “You want me on your plane, you answer me first. Do you or don't you intend to go through with the marriage?”

Khalid's jaw firmed. “It's not as simple as you seem to think.”

Sabrina swung away from him and took two paces, only to be pulled back again into his arms and steered behind a large pillar.

“I'm not going to Turastan with you without knowing there's a way I can get back home to Australia.”

Khalid's tension was palpable. She felt the tightness in his biceps, saw the irritation in his features and, when he spoke, she heard the barely suppressed anger and resentment straining his usually well-modulated voice. “I need you to return with me. At this point I'll say whatever it takes to get you on that plane.”

“And your word is your promise?” she asked in tones that were equally as clipped.

“You have my word. If you still want to go ahead with marriage once we visit Rhajia and you've seen for yourself the state of suffering the people are enduring, then I will agree to honour the betrothal and marry you.”

It was only then, on an outward sigh of relief, that Sabrina became aware of the interest they were attracting from passers-by.

“Oh no,” she groaned.

“They think we're having a lover's tiff,” Khalid said simply. “Let's show them we've made up.”

With no other warning, Sabrina was drawn against his broad frame again.

“Be convincing, Sabihah. If you're so set on marriage, we'll need to convince both the Rhajian and Turastani people that we're happy together so they may rejoice in our union.”

As much as she told herself it was all just an act she was obliged to perform, Sabrina knew deep down she wanted this kiss as much as she wanted to see the sun rise again the following day. The thought of being truly, physically united with him was a heady one. It was sweet heaven to be able to raise her arms and thread her fingers into his thick hair so she could press his head closer toward her own. Sheer ecstasy flowed through her as the movement created friction between her aroused nipples and the hard wall of his chest. Absolute paradise was the only way to describe the way she drowned in the firm pressure of his mouth as he explored her without haste. And when she realised that his breathing was just as ragged as hers, satisfaction rippled through her.

“That's enough performance practice,” he said in thick, roughened tones.

“I agree.” She lied for her own self-preservation, for as she drew back away from him, her head spun with newfound sensations. Khalid's brand of passion was totally addictive and it seemed she could affect him just as much as he affected her. That was a revelation.

“Surely, we won't be expected to put on public displays of affection in Rhajia or Turastan?”

“No,” he said. “Although it wouldn't be taboo. Neither of our countries is as strict as some of our neighbours because we are predominantly Christian and home to a mixture of religions, ethnic groups and cultures within our borders. Now, are you ready?” He framed it as a question, but she realised he would brook no further protests or delays.

With a quick nod, she made for the boarding gate and was thankful this was a private flight. It would afford her some time to sit away from him as he caught up on correspondence. She needed to think about her situation.

Once strapped into her seat ready for take-off, Sabrina asked, “Do I get to know this mystery woman's name?”

Khalid hesitated. “Inaya,” he told her at last. “And I will see her as soon as possible after our landing.”

A knot of pain twisted in Sabrina's chest. For some reason, the thought of Khalid touching down in Turastan and rushing off to be with this woman made Sabrina …

My God!

She was jealous of Inaya.

Reality check. Huge reality check and grounding required. Jealousy indicated caring. Sabrina did not care about Khalid. All she cared about was revisiting Rhajia, deposing her uncle and making sure Khalid would restore the country of her birth to its former happy and wealthy state. Closure on this chapter of her life needed to be achieved. All that was truly important to her was in Australia. Wasn't it?

Chapter Six

“You've done what?” Khalid's voice cracked like a whip into the telephone receiver.

Incredulity at his father's announcement was followed quickly by annoyance. “You should've discussed this with me first.”

“There was no time. Expediency was crucial,” King Hassan explained. “The delegates were already here demanding Lalita's marriage to Hamil.”

“Princess Sabihah isn't ready for this.” As he argued with his father, the muscles across Khalid's shoulders grew rigid with tension. “You're throwing her to the wolves.”

“You will prepare her. She must make a favourable impression.”

“Right,” Khalid intoned with impatience as he looked at his watch, “and I now have an hour and a half before we land in Turastan. I would've appreciated more warning.”

“Khalid—”

“Who will be there? What am I walking her into, Father?”

King Hassan rattled off many names. Khalid felt his face harden as he realised the representatives were political heavyweights who were intimidating when faced in a one-to-one meeting. En masse? This reception committee could be likened to a pit of vipers and Sabihah was about to be thrown into it.

There was one name his father hadn't mentioned. It burnt in Khalid's mind. “Mustaf?”

“Naturally he claims she's an imposter. He declares that if we continue with the claim that she's the Princess of Rhajia, he'll mobilise his troops against us.”

Khalid stood. Restless energy pulsed through him. “One way or another he's determined to declare war.” His brain worked quickly as he paced the confines of the small private office on the royal jet. “Have the authorities in Australia managed to get the hitman to talk?”

“Not yet, but a senior member of our police force has been sent to assist with the investigation. I'm confident this will bring us the evidence we need to convict Mustaf of attempted murder.”

It wasn't moving fast enough for Khalid and he didn't share his father's confidence. Mustaf needed to be brought to heel immediately in the interests of Sabihah's safety. “Do you know where the leak occurred in our palace security yet?”

“No.”

He smothered a curse. How could he guarantee Sabihah's safety in Turastan when they couldn't even locate the security breech?

“Has any new evidence come to light involving Mustaf in the assassination of Sabihah's parents?” Even as Khalid asked the question he knew he was clutching at straws.

“I believe someone will come forward now Princess Sabihah is returning to assume the throne.”

Again, Khalid wasn't so sure. It had been a long time since the murders and people were terrified of Mustaf.

“Extra security has been arranged at the airport and the palace. Everything is proceeding as it should, Khalid,” came his father's attempt at reassurance. “You've done well in convincing Princess Sabihah to return.” He cleared his throat slightly. “And judging by the video footage leaked to the media by an Australian airport employee, your marriage to our Rhajian princess will cause neither of you any undue hardship.”

Khalid's fingers tightened around the telephone as he absorbed his father's words. “What video footage?”

“You have a habit of making headlines. You know the paparazzi hunger for photographs of you.”

“Tell me what you've seen,” he grated.

“You at the airport in a passionate embrace with a woman who was immediately recognised due to her recent act of heroism. The footage has been aired by the world's major television networks and photos plastered over the latest editions of newspapers. She may tell you she wants a temporary marriage—” the king made a sound of amused disbelief, “—but I don't believe you'll have any trouble convincing her there will be no divorce.”

Khalid cursed. For the hundredth time since he'd kissed Sabihah he berated himself for having lost control. It had been wrong on so many levels, but to have it aired publicly when he was normally so circumspect—when Inaya was awaiting his return …

“Inaya …”

“I summoned Inaya to the palace,” King Hassan told him with censure in his voice. “As you ignored my demand to break off your relationship, I informed her of your betrothal to Sabihah.”

Khalid returned to his desk and sat down abruptly. “You had no right to do that.” He ground out the words. “It was my place to speak with Inaya, and it may not even be necessary to go through with a marriage to the Rhajian princess.”

“The marriage will take place.” His father's words were an adamant decree. “Would you have preferred Inaya to hear of your upcoming marriage on the news?”

If Khalid had his way there'd be no upcoming marriage. Sabihah must be made to accept her responsibility. The political support and advice she received from her allies would have to be enough to assist her in ruling wisely.

“I intend to speak with Inaya as soon as I arrive and explain the situation.” He slumped into his chair, closing his eyes briefly. He should've been the one to inform Inaya of what was happening and why.

“Stay away from her,” came the royal order. “You should have ended the relationship before you left for Australia.”

Khalid's teeth clamped together so tightly a muscle ticked in his cheek. He would not be dictated to in this. Although he hadn't even hinted that he was planning to propose to her, Inaya deserved more from him. She needed to know that this betrothal was never one he'd contemplated. He would tell her that it was King Hassan and Sabihah who were hell-bent on a marriage alliance between Rhajia and Turastan.