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      Amani watched as Ziyad's body trembled. He closed his eyes and growled loudly, forcing his cock inside her so deeply, she thought she might come again from the feeling. With a few more sharp plunges, he was spent, and panted his breath into her hair.

      When he kissed her this time, his kisses were soft, gentle. As if he had all the time in the world to spend soothing her from their lovemaking.

      "Do you ache now?" he asked.

      "Yes," she answered, deciding to tease him. He gave her a look of surprise. "But now, in a much different way."

      "Minx," he murmured under his breath.

      She giggled and kissed her way to his ear. "I think I will very much enjoy being married to you, Spider."

      Ziyad grinned down on her and rubbed his nose with hers. "That makes two of us."

      Amani's heart soared.

~ * ~

      Ziyad smiled at the tender scene Amani presented. She'd fallen asleep against him, snuggled on his chest. Her soft breaths tickled his skin, but he didn't want to move her. Not yet.

      Having a woman in his arms again felt too damn good. And having her so responsive to his touch had heated his blood to boiling. This time, Amani had found her pleasure. Many times, in fact. Ziyad couldn't have stopped his grin of satisfaction, even if he wanted to.

      But the longer he lay there, the more his mind was taken back to what Amani had told him earlier. She didn't believe she was a beautiful woman. The rejections she'd received for her hand had obviously taken their toll on the dear girl. However Ziyad was more than thankful. If she'd been accepted by any one of them, she would have been the wife of a merchant or a goat herder.

      Or the Scarab Princess.

      She could have belonged to Qadir and not to him. Ziyad thanked the gods for Qadir's obsession with Trianna. Amani would have been well treated in the Scarab's caravan, but then he wouldn't have had the chance to experience her trusting soul.

      Ziyad's wife confused him. With practically the same breath she told him she fancied him then acknowledged his love for Karis. Never once had she shied away from talking about his first wife, and even spoke of her with respect. What other woman would accept her position in the Spider's life than Amani? She'd never asked him to forget Karis, never asked him to move on or think only of her, now that they were married.

      She respected his love for Karis, and that meant something to him. It made her even more glorious in Ziyad's eyes, with her hair spread out upon her grey satin pillow.

      But her indignation earlier had taken him aback. She admitted that she wished to have been his first wife—if only to trade places with Karis. Then he could still be with her. Amani didn't want him to be in pain. That had shocked him more than anything else. Knowing she cared for his sanity had led him to kiss her thoroughly in the sand.

      With a sigh, Ziyad was reluctant to leave. But this was her carav. He'd need to retire to his own before morning. If he entertained the idea of staying the entire night, Amani might get used to it. And she deserved more from him than false hope.

      With a light kiss on her forehead, Ziyad slipped from her arms and stood. He found his robes and silently dressed, watching her stomach as it rose and fell. His cock stirred and he had to turn away. It wouldn't do to succumb to his lust again. If he woke her to make love once more, he would end up staying with her all night.

      But the walk to her door seemed so very long, and returning to his carav seemed so very lonely. He was slipping. He couldn't allow Amani's gentle ways to conquer him. He needed to be stronger. For Karis—the woman he loved.

      Amani stared at the empty pillows next to her and tried not to fall apart. She'd woken some time ago, probably when the caravs had lurched forward on their final push to Ziyad's oasis. But she hadn't risen. What was the point?

      She'd just spent the most magical night of her life with the man she adored, and he'd left her cold and alone. Her heart ached that he hadn't wanted to stay, that he'd slipped out of her carav in the middle of the night. But her head chastised her for her romantic thoughts.

      Of course he'd left her. She wasn't his princess. He didn't even love her. Ziyad had enjoyed what they'd done, but he'd never spend the night with her. It was for the better that she learned it now, instead of trying to come to grips with his feelings for her after they'd been married a few years. She had to realize she wasn't the first woman in his life.

      Karis was dead, but she still reigned over this caravan and Ziyad's heart. She always would.

      But that didn't change the fact that Amani desperately wished her husband might love her just as fiercely as he'd once loved Karis.

      "This is your life now," Amani whispered to herself. "You'll have to get used to your heart breaking every single day. The man you love doesn't love you."

      Forcing herself to rise, Amani dressed and ate a few slices of food from the tray she hadn't touched the night before. She felt drained, as if she'd been crying all night. But she wasn't going to let it stop her.

      If she couldn't gain Ziyad's heart, then perhaps she could gain the hearts of his people. He'd said they would come to love her. Maybe in their eyes, she could find her purpose, something beyond merely being the mother to the Spider's heir.

      Amani opened her door and leapt from her moving steps. She stumbled, but managed not to fall.

      "Much better this time, Your Grace!"

      She turned to find Hyram smiling at her. She had to wonder if the man was a guard, for he never seemed to leave his post near her carav.

      She returned his smile. "Thank you!"

      "Have you been practicing?"

      "No," she answered, wiping the dirt from her robes as she walked. "Just determined."

      "A fine quality for the Spider's…" He paused. "Ahem, his bride, Your Grace." His tone had turned sour. Could it be Ziyad's people didn't like her circumstance just as much as she?

      "As well as acceptance," she replied, just as sourly.

      Hyram snickered. "I suppose you're right."

      "My husband says we'll reach his oasis this evening."

      "That we should," he answered, nodding.

      They walked on in silence before Amani spoke again. "Can I ask you a question?"

      "Of course." Hyram bowed as he walked.

      "What do the people think of me?"

      "Well…Your Grace, I can't speak for the others."

      "All right. Then what do you think of me?"

      Hyram put his hands behind his back and cleared his throat. "You are a wonderful choice to bear the Spider his heirs."

      Another long silence descended between them.

      "Did you love Karis?" Amani watched as Hyram took a deep breath.

      "I loved my princess very much," he told her. "She was a loving woman with a good heart. She was the mother of this caravan and she looked forward to giving the Spider a son. She fairly glowed. Pregnancy agreed with her, if you don't mind me saying."

      Amani stared out at the faraway dunes. She'd been so caught up in Ziyad losing his wife, that she'd forgotten he also mourned his heir. But it was clear to her that the people of his caravan had loved Karis almost as much as he did.

      "I'm not here to replace her, Hyram," she said in a small voice. "I want you to know that. Karis was a lucky woman, to be so loved."

      "She is with the god of Spiders now, Your Grace," he answered. "Perhaps she looks down on us."

      Amani glanced at the sky. "Perhaps she does."

~ * ~

      Amani wanted to exhaust herself. If she kept walking, if she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, she could keep her mind off the fact that she'd never be able to compete with Karis. She had no idea it would affect her so deeply. It hadn't been too long ago she thought perhaps the love of a child or the love of Ziyad's people could fill the void in her heart.

      Now she wasn't so sure.

      But she was determined not to pity herself. She'd chosen to marry the Spider Prince. She could have walked away. She would have shamed him, her father, and herself, but she could have said no.

      But the longer she walked alongside the Spider's caravan, the more she came to realize the reasons she thought were legitimate for marrying Ziyad were just excuses. Secretly, in her heart of hearts, she'd thought he would come to love her. Amani had hoped he would look at her differently and realize he couldn't live without her.

      What a fool she'd been. These past two years waiting for him to marry her should have given her a clue to her future. She would forever be an outsider in the Spider's caravan, allowed to wear his colors, but never his love.

      She was so thirsty. It had to be late afternoon. But she wasn't going to stop until they camped for the night. Maybe if she collapsed in her carav tonight, she wouldn't dream of her husband.

      As if he'd heard her thoughts, he appeared beside her. "How long have you been walking, Amani?"

      "I don't know," she answered, wiping her brow.

      "Hyram tells me you have been walking for hours. And without a dunla for your head. Look at you, your cheeks are flushed! Do you have water?"

"Back in my carav, probably."

"Are you mad, woman?"

She chuckled at his tone. "I think I might be."

      He gave her a strange look. "Come." Ziyad grabbed her arm and dragged her along behind him. The heat had drained her, just as she wanted, but that meant she had no strength to fight him.

      Amani's eyes widened when she realized where he was taking her. His royal carav. Before she could protest, he scooped her into his arms, opened his door with his magic, and bounded up the steps with a grace she'd never possess. Once inside, he kicked his door shut and set her down.

      Amani had to blink a few times to get her eyes to adjust to the dark, but she sighed at the cool air. All she wanted to do was sink to the floor and sleep. Ziyad led her across the carav and sat her on a pedestal. It was surrounded with soft pillows and black silks.

      It was his throne.

      "Spider, no," she protested, trying to stand. He pushed her back down.

      Ziyad loomed over her as he reached for something near the throne, but he didn't speak. When he straightened, she noticed he held a silver pitcher embossed with a spider and filled with water. He poured some into a matching goblet and handed it to her.

      "You should know better than to walk in the desert with no water." Despite his harsh words, his voice was as smooth as the silks she sat on.

      Amani drank, being careful to take small sips. The cool liquid felt heavenly sliding down her throat and pooling in her belly.

      "Your skin is hot to the touch." Without another word, Ziyad dipped his hands into the pitcher. Once they were wet, he brought his palms to her cheeks. The sensation made her gasp with delight.

      Ziyad got his hands wet again, then wet her eyes, her forehead, her chin. Amani turned her head up, gazing into his eyes as he stood before her. She was unable to look away. His caress was so gentle and the water so cool, that Amani shivered at his ministrations.

      With another dunk of his hands, his fingers delved into

her hair, leaving trails of water behind him.

      "Never do that again," he whispered. "The desert is an unforgiving place." He dipped his fingers and trailed them through her hair once more. "Feel good?"

      Amani had no breath with which to speak. All she could do was nod and look up at him, wishing she could hug him, dreaming that he loved her.

      Then again, he was her husband, and he'd once told her she had the right to be personal with him. What could it hurt?

      Standing from the throne, Amani placed her hands on his chest. She bit her lip, unsure of her actions, but continued regardless. Ziyad's hands had slipped from her hair to her hips, allowing her touch.

      Circling his neck with her hands, she stood on her toes and pulled him close. She didn't speak—she didn't want to ruin the moment. It seemed so fragile, holding him tight, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

      Once she slid her hand into his hair at the base of his neck, Ziyad responded to her gesture and hugged her back. Amani breathed deep, taking in the unique scent of him. He smelled like the rahala bloom, which she'd heard from her mother grew everywhere at the Spider's oasis. Many women and men alike vied for his flowers, as their scent was very rare indeed.

      The longer she held him, the harder it was to contain her emotions. She knew she was trembling, but there was no hope for it now. He had to have felt her ragged breathing and known by her sniffles she desperately wanted to break down and sob.