“You are not understanding me,” he began. “There is no leaving or entering Zhobghadi during this time.”
“No leaving—surely you’re joking.”
He didn’t look like he was joking. “The Easifat—those sandstorms you encountered—make it impossible to leave the country at this time. You could get lost or buried under the sand.”
“In that case, I can send a message to someone. My team or my university.”
“The storms have also scrambled all communication services at this time.”
“What?” She took a step forward. “How can that be? There must be some way to—” When she tried to sidestep him, he simply blocked her way. “Sir, please get out of my way. I’m going to go out and find a—”
“You are not leaving.”
She craned her neck back. “Excuse me?” The expression on his face was deadly serious. “You can’t stop me from leaving your room!”
“I can, and I must,” he said. “For it is forbidden for foreigners to be in Zhobghadi during our most sacred festival.”
“Forbidden?” she echoed.
“Yes. It is the way of our people, the law of the gods for a millennium.”
“I don’t follow your gods, and I’m an American!” she shouted. “Let me out of here! You can’t keep me locked up against my will.” If he tried anything, she could shift into her wolf form. Technically, Lycans were not allowed to shift in front of humans. The moment their wolves manifested during puberty, they were taught to control it and only let it out if it was an emergency. Well, being kidnapped and held in a foreign land sounded like an emergency.
“If you are found, the punishment is death.”
“Of all the—” These people were barbaric! “My embassy won’t let you get away with executing an American citizen!”
“I wasn’t talking about you.”
It took a second, but his meaning dawned on her. She looked at Ramin, who had been staring at her wide-eyed the entire time. “You wouldn’t.”
“It’s not for me to decide but the courts.” He folded his massive arms over his chest. “Zhobghadi is a small place. When you are found wandering the streets, eventually they will trace your presence back to Ramin. Even if they didn’t, someone will have to pay, most likely the guards on patrol at the border.”
A sick feeling curdled in her stomach, and defeat made her sit back down on the bed. “You can’t possibly keep me here forever. My team, my work … my family will be looking for me.”
“I’m not keeping you here against your will forever,” he said. “Just until the Easifat has passed. Then I will arrange for you to go back to wherever you want.”
“And how long will that be?”
“About a week. Ten days at the most.”
“A week?” She shot to her feet. “I’m supposed to stay here for a week, and not contact anyone?” Oh God, if her father realized she was missing, he’d send an army to find her. Heck, he’d probably scour the desert himself. He was, after all, the world’s only dragon shifter.
“I’m afraid that is your only choice.” His tone sounded almost sorry.
“But what am I supposed to do around here? And where am I going to stay?” She would have to hide out for a week somewhere in this country. Where no one would be able to find her.
“You will stay here, of course.”
“Here? In your house?”
“In my room.”
The way he said that last sentence made something in her flare. “That’s really generous of you,” she managed to croak. “But I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble or bother you. I can find another safe place.”
“There is no place safer—”
Yeah, right.
“—than the royal palace, in the rooms of the crown prince.”
She hoped her jaw didn’t drop all the way to the floor, otherwise, her grandmother would have wasted the money she spent on her only granddaughter that entire year of finishing school in Switzerland. She scrambled her brain, trying to remember how to address royalty. “Y-you’re a … Your Highness?”
“Prince Karim Idris Salamuddin,” he said.
She wondered if she should curtsey or bow. But before she could do or say anything, he spoke again.
“Now, Miss Creed—”
“It’s Professor Creed,” she bristled.
“Professor. You will stay here until the Easifat has passed. It is too dangerous to find you alternative accommodations, and no one enters or exits here without my permission. Ramin will bring you your meals and anything else you may need.”
If he didn’t sound like royalty to her before, he sure did now. Arrogance dripped from his words—or rather, his commands.
He turned around and swept out of the room without so much as a word or a backward glance.
Oh fiddlesticks, what had she gotten into?
If this were a movie, then Deedee surely would have hit the fast-forward button so many times that it would have worn right off the remote control.
But sadly, her life was not a movie, despite the current plot twist she was experiencing right now. She not only wanted to get to the end, which she hoped involved getting out of this crazy country, but also get through the boring parts.
Boring was a mild word to describe what she was feeling right now. There simply was nothing to do inside the room.
She walked around the bedroom numerous times to keep busy and ate the three meals Ramin had brought her. There were a few books lying around, but none of them were in English, so she settled on sitting on the carpet, trying to entertain herself by reciting the first chapter of the ancient Egyptian Book of the Dead.
She checked all the walls, corners, and nooks and crannies for any sort of communication device. Nothing. Not even a landline, so there was no chance of calling out. There were two small windows on either side of the bed, but they were the kind that didn’t open, and from what she could see, it was at least a hundred stories to the bottom.
There was no other exit except the bedroom door. Apparently, Ramin had taken Prince Karim’s orders quite literally, and the teen stood outside the bedroom, making sure she couldn’t even open the doors without alerting him.
It felt like ages since Prince Karim left, but in reality, it had only been a day, and outside, the sky had turned dark.
Prince Karim … she racked her brain. The name sounded familiar. He was crown prince which meant he should be the next king. Maybe she’d read his name in the papers or something. But she wasn’t really into gossip about royals, and she hardly watched live TV anymore. She was probably one of the few people left who actually read the newspaper in the morning for her news.
Her hand went to her scalp, where her once-bleeding head wound was now a deep scab. Thank God for Lycan healing, but that didn’t really help the itch. And her head wasn’t the only thing that was itching. She stuck her nose down her blouse. There was a bathroom here, but did she dare try to take a shower?
Slapping her hands on her thighs, she got up from where she was seated on the carpeted floor. “Well, I’m not going sit around and stay stinky for the next week.” Surely the prince wouldn’t mind if she washed up.
She padded toward the opulent bathroom and walked straight into the glass-enclosed shower. Her linen blouse and cargo pants were filthy too and needed a wash. She stripped them off, as well as her underthings, until they were a pool at her feet and turned on the tap.
“Oohhhh.”
Hot water blasted from the shower, making her scalp tingle. It felt amazing. There was also shower gel and shampoo, which she helped herself to, figuring it was the least Prince Karim owed her. It smelled just like him, of course, but she didn’t care. She deserved this, after all she had gone through.
She eyed the massive tub in the corner enviously. A long, hot bath would be wonderful right about now. But she didn’t want to be caught luxuriating in the prince’s bathtub. They probably had severe punishments for that, too.
As she bent down to wa
sh her clothes under the shower, she began to wonder for the hundredth time that day if Prince Karim was telling the truth. Surely, they weren’t a barbaric people? From the impression she got from him, it sounded like their society was still living in the ancient times described in her textbooks and journals.
Try as she might, and no matter how many times she thought about it or argued with herself, the fact was that he didn’t have any other reason to keep her here. Surely, if she had found a stranger in her home, she would have sent him packing?
Of course, there was that kiss …
“Ludicrous.” She shut off the shower tap and began to wring the water from her clothes. He was a prince, for God’s sake. He had women falling at his feet. They probably snuck into his bed all the time, which is why he kissed her—he thought her some royal groupie looking for a night of fun. No, that couldn’t be why he wanted to keep her here. Why would he, when he could have any woman on earth?
Her inner she-wolf growled.
Huh. Strange.
Except for warning her of danger, her animal mostly kept quiet. As she had learned to control it when it had first appeared, it was mostly a silent companion all the time. It was indifferent to anyone near her, even Cross.
She huffed, thinking of Cross. If he hadn’t broken her heart, she wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.
“Stop.” No, she had to take personal responsibility. It wasn’t Cross’s fault that she was here. Nor was it his fault he didn’t love her back the way she wanted him to.
And speaking of personal responsibility, she wasn’t just going to wait around for a week until that arrogant prince released her.
She was an independent woman, for crying out loud.
But how to do it without getting anyone in trouble?
With a deep sigh, she pushed the shower door open and reached for the towel on the hook. It was soft, thick, and engulfed most of her body. When she took a deep breath, she realized Prince Karim must have used it before her, because she could smell that unique scent he had—like sand, masculine musk, and … she couldn’t quite describe it, but the closest thing she could think of was a bonfire. It wasn’t so much a smell as it was a sensation—warmth and coziness.
“Oh dear.” She realized that her clothes—her only clothes—were drip-drying in the shower, and she didn’t have anything else to wear. She supposed she could sleep with just a towel around her, but this was his bedroom.
The thought of having that hot body next to her fried her brain cells. But surely, he wouldn’t be sleeping in there with her again, right? The thought made warmth pool in her stomach. No, mustn’t think of that. Since Prince Karim said she was to stay here, he would probably find his own accommodations tonight. It was a palace, after all, and surely there were hundreds of rooms here.
Still, she’d never slept in the nude before, and it was a disconcerting thought.
Glancing around, she saw another doorway on the opposite corner, and walked over to peek in. Just as she suspected. It was his walk-in closet. Her eyes naturally adjusted to the dark, so she didn’t need to turn on the light. The closet was huge, of course, filled with various clothing from luxurious tuxedos and suits to some robes and pants she guessed were traditional garb. She opened the first cabinet on her right.
“Ah, lucky guess.” It was filled with more intimate apparel—undershirts, boxers, and pajamas. Well, since he didn’t exactly provide her with anything else to wear for the next few days, she decided to borrow a shirt and a pair of boxers. Hopefully the prince wouldn’t mind, but then again, she wasn’t exactly a willing guest here.
Padding back to the bedroom, she wondered what else she was supposed to do. A yawn escaped her mouth. Despite not having had any activity the entire day, she suddenly felt tired. Probably the hot shower—a luxury she hadn’t had in weeks living in a tent in the desert—and the prospect of being on a real bed that made her body crave sleep.
She let out a deep sigh of contentment as she eased under the luxurious covers in the ridiculously large bed. The last time she’d slept on a real mattress was in a dinky little hotel in Karachi, and they had only stopped there for two nights before they had to travel to the new dig site. After weeks in her pup tent in the previous site, the inch-thick mattress in the dank, humid room had been heaven.
But this … it was a hundred times better than any five-star hotel she’d ever stayed in, and she wasn’t exactly a stranger to those. After all, her father was a billionaire, and she grew up with every luxury she could ever ask for. Many thought it was strange that she would want to spend her days digging in the dirt when her trust fund was enough to fund her for the rest of her life, but she wasn’t raised like that.
No, her father built everything he had from nothing, while her mother was a brilliant scientist who finished two PhDs before she was twenty. They taught her the value of hard work, and she wasn’t going to live like some pampered princess. Besides, she’d fallen in love with archeology on her tenth birthday when Aunt Meredith had given her a book on Egyptian mummies, and she knew what her career was going to be at that exact moment.
Another yawn escaped her mouth. It was probably late evening, and despite what she earlier thought about sharing the bed with Prince Karim, it was obvious he’d found somewhere else to sleep. She squashed that small bit of disappointment in her chest and closed her eyes. Maybe when she woke up, she’d be back in her tent, and this would have all been a nightmare.
However, it wasn’t a dream or nightmare. Not when she suddenly woke up and felt the bed move. Was it an earthquake?
“Huh?” She quickly sat up. The room was pitch dark, but she could see slivers of early morning light peeking through the crack in the blackout curtains. And it wasn’t an earthquake that woke her up. No, it was the very large person on the other end of the bed, thrashing about. Her instincts flared, and she knew who it was. Karim was near the edge of the mattress, his huge limbs struggling against sleep paralysis.
“Your Highness?”
His mouth opened. “Mum … Mum … please. No!” he cried, even as his lids stayed tightly shut.
The desperate tone made her heart wrench, and before she could stop herself, she was scrambling across the bed toward him. “Prince Karim!”
His handsome face was twisted in agony, and she couldn’t help but reach out to touch him, her palms landing on his chest. The heat of his skin made her gasp. It was like he was on fire. She was about to pull away when his hands wrapped around her wrists and tugged.
“Oommph!” She landed on top of him, his arms wrapping around her. Despite her attempt to struggle, he held her in a tight grip. “Your Highness?” Still, his eyes remained closed, and he stopped crying out and thrashing.
At least he wasn’t having a nightmare anymore. Because that’s what it was, right? He was having some kind of night terror. Her mother said sometimes Dad still had them, probably a PTSD episode from his time in the marines.
Minutes ticked by, but Prince Karim’s arms remained around her like steel bands. With a soft sigh, she pressed her cheek to his chest. At least he was wearing clothes tonight. The T-shirt he wore didn’t exactly hide much, seeing as it was stretched tight across his pecs, and she could feel the muscled planes of his body under hers. Her upper body was stretched out across his massive chest, which wasn’t as uncomfortable as it sounded. In fact, it was actually comfortable. Like sleeping next to a hot water bottle.
Her lids started to feel heavy. Maybe if she closed her eyes for a few minutes, he’d eventually let go.
Chapter Four
Sleep was still fogging her brain when she felt it. Rough hands gliding over the naked skin of her stomach. It was a delicious feeling, like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Warm lips nuzzled at her neck, beard tickling her skin, and when she felt a hot tongue flick at the soft spot behind her ear, she groaned. Wetness flooded between her legs, and the mouth at her nape growled.
Holy smokes!
Her eyes flew open when s
omething hard poked at her butt. But her limbs were too weak to protest. Or she just didn’t want to, because those hands and mouth were doing things to her that made her feel so … alive. She didn’t want it to stop.
The large hand slid up, engulfing and cupping her breast and she couldn’t stop her hips from pressing up against the hardness behind her or keep from moaning loudly.
He went still, and when he withdrew his hands, she nearly whimpered in protest. The loss of the heat of his body and his distinct scent made her wolf cry out, and it took all her might not to turn around.
But she did turn her head. The sight of his towering form stalking away from the bed and the bathroom door slamming shut told her that she wasn’t dreaming. It was Karim. But what had he been doing?
Well, it was obvious what he’d been doing—but why didn’t he find another place to sleep last night? And where had he been? And what was he dreaming about? And this morning …
Oh dear. Heat rushed to her cheeks. That was embarrassing. He had probably been having a dream that he was in bed with some supermodel, and when he woke up and saw it was just her, realized his mistake.
Her wolf howled in protest at the thought of Prince Karim wrapped up in the arms of some other woman.
Oh, what’s the matter with you, anyway?
The bathroom door flew open, and she quickly turned away, pressing her face against the pillow and shutting her eyes tight. His heavy footsteps told her he was walking toward the door, and when she heard it shut, she let out a sigh of relief she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
What was it about his mere presence that seemed to command her attention? It was crazy; she hardly knew the man. Yes, they’d cuddled up in bed twice now, and even kissed, but both had been accidents.
“I’m going mad,” she declared as she sat up. And it had only been twenty-four hours since she woke up in this crazy place.
I have to get out of here. But how?
Think, Deedee. You graduated magna cum laude from Oxford. You finished your masters and published your first paper before you were twenty-five. Somehow, though, she doubted her thesis on Techniques on Urban Archeology would help her out right now. Archeology in real life wasn’t like a movie, and Indiana Jones, she was not.
Daughter of the Dragon Page 3
