Desert Prince, Defiant Virgin

by Kim Lawrence

She watched satisfaction, male and primitive, flare in his eyes and it was mingled with a tenderness that almost stopped her heart.

  He bent towards her and her soft lips parted under the pressure of his mouth. Molly curled her arms around his neck as he kissed her deeply. His warm breath fanned over her cheek as their noses nudged and he speared his long fingers into her hair.

  ‘I think you might have changed your mind about not being able to have enough of me by the morning, ma belle.’

  ‘I might surprise you.’

  ‘Now that is a claim I would like to put to the test.’

  ‘This doesn’t mean I’ll marry you.’

  His husky laugh was lost in her mouth.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘SO YOU’RE awake. I am disappointed. I was looking forward to waking you up.’

  They had made love long into the night but when Molly had fallen asleep it had been deeply. She had not stirred when Tair had left their bed.

  She didn’t turn her head when he spoke, but held on tighter to the silk sheet she had wrapped sarong-wise about herself and allowed the hair she had anchored away from her face with her forearm to fall free to screen her face like a silken curtain.

  ‘If you were looking forward to it so very much maybe you shouldn’t have sneaked away while I was asleep.’

  ‘I was not quiet, I made a great deal of noise, and if it makes you feel any better I had no desire to leave you, but there were certain matters that needed attending to.’

  ‘I don’t need to feel better. I feel totally fine.’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  She flashed him a scornful look but felt her stomach muscles quiver as she did—God, he looked incredible. She quickly diverted her eyes. ‘What does it look like? What have you done with my clothes?’

  ‘Relax. They will be returned to you when they are laundered.’

  Molly straightened up. Was he kidding? How could she relax now? ‘And what am I meant to do in the meantime?’ she enquired. ‘Or is this the way you like your women?’ she asked, her eyes looking down to her own bare toes. ‘Barefoot and tied to the kitchen sink?’

  ‘This is not a kitchen.’

  ‘Kitchen, bed—what’s the difference? You know exactly what I mean.’ She stopped and drew breath, thinking if he did know it was more than she did! She seemed to know nothing any more. Meeting him had turned her entire life upside down. ‘And I,’ she added hastily, ‘am not a woman…that is, I am…a woman, obviously.’

  It was certainly obvious that she was from where Tair was standing. He felt his desire stir as his glance dropped to the outline of her nipples pushing against the thin silk.

  ‘Just not your woman…well, obviously…because, well, I’m my own woman…person…’

  ‘You are very politically correct this morning, though not very accurate.’

  Better late than never, Molly thought.

  ‘You are my woman and you will be my wife.’

  She ignored the little thrill of excitement inside her. ‘My God, but you really are a male chauvinist! I thought you’d forgotten that daft idea by now.’

  ‘But your male chauvinist, Molly Mouse.’

  ‘How do you know I want you?’

  ‘Because you were very convincing last night when you told me you did.’ His husky laughter only intensified her blush. ‘There are clothes there.’

  ‘I can’t wear any of those.’

  She glanced to a pile of garments neatly stacked and gave a regretful sigh. The rich colours and sumptuous fabrics were beautiful, but not for her. ‘Don’t you have anything…?’

  ‘In beige?’ Tair suggested. He revealed his even white teeth in a sardonic grin and shook his head. ‘Definitely not.’

  ‘There is nothing wrong with beige,’ she retorted with dignity. ‘Some of my favourite outfits are beige.’

  ‘Of that I have no doubt,’ he said drily. ‘But alas we have no beige or taupe or even mushroom. So it is this or nothing.’

  ‘Were you born delivering ultimatums?’

  Tair watched her eyes flash with militant fire. Aggressiveness was not a quality he admired in a woman, which made the stirrings of tenderness he felt when he watched her little chin lift all the more inexplicable. It could be that there were worse things in life than being married to Molly James.

  ‘Were you born being pointlessly stubborn?’ he retorted.

  ‘I was born a clean slate, but I was brought up not to take orders from egotistical men.’

  He gave an irritated click of his tongue. ‘I am not attempting to subjugate you, just dress you.’

  It was undressing that he was better suited to.

  A hazy heat filmed her amber eyes as the memories of last night flooded back. She could still hear his harsh intake of breath as he had exposed her breasts. It seemed as if, once awoken, her sensation-saturated nerve endings might never return to normal.

  ‘I can dress myself,’ she protested.

  He lifted a filmy diaphanous shawl from the selection of items, and let it slip slowly through his fingers. He arched a brow. ‘Wear this or nothing?’

  Lips pursed, she stared defiantly. ‘Then it’s nothing.’

  He gave one of his inimical shrugs. ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Right, good, then…’

  ‘I have no problem with your decision, though the more conservative-minded might be a little less open-minded about you walking around naked.’

  ‘You know that’s not what I meant,’ she replied, infuriated with herself for blushing.

  Tair’s glance drifted over the smooth curve of her cheek and dropped to her mouth. ‘A man is allowed his fantasies.’ And he had never expected his to be fulfilled by a virgin who had a tongue that was as sharp as her skin was soft.

  Molly knew that he was only being flippant, but the knowledge that she was part of his fantasies made her shiver in delight.

  ‘The idea excites me.’ The discovery brought a predatory gleam to his deep-set blue eyes.

  ‘Well, it disgusts me!’ she retorted. ‘I would never walk around naked in front of any man!’ That would require confidence or a killer body and she had neither.

  ‘I would hope not. However, I think you will enjoy walking around naked in front of me.’

  She opened her mouth, but the protest died on her tongue as she saw the blaze of hunger in his eyes.

  ‘It’s all about the chase with men.’

  ‘I know you’re not speaking from personal experience.’

  ‘Because no man would chase me?’

  A spasm of irritation crossed his lean face. ‘Not in the beige outfit,’ he agreed drily. His brow furrowed as he studied her face. ‘I cannot understand why you constantly pull yourself down. You hide your beauty in the baggy clothes, you scrape back your beautiful hair, yet even in beige your innate sensuality still shines through.

  ‘As for men and the chase—yes, there is some element of truth in that. We are programmed to chase, and sometimes the pursuit is more exciting than what is at the end of it, but with you…that is not so. You are the most exciting woman I have ever slept with and, in case you did not realise, the only virgin. Now I will leave you to dress.’

  And he did just that, having reduced Molly to a state of open-mouthed shock.

  The beaded hem of the silk gown swished sexily against her legs as she walked. The fabric had a sensual feel against her bare skin. She couldn’t decide if it was her imagination, but she felt that the dress made her walk differently, with more of a sexy sway to her hips.

  Maybe it was the silk that made her more conscious of her own femininity?

  Molly was turning over the theory that the changes went deeper, that maybe it was less about the fabric brushing against her bare legs as she moved and more about her newly discovered sensuality, when she spotted the unmistakable tall, lean figure standing some distance away.

  Molly immediately stopped theorising, she stopped thinking and even her breathing was a hit-and-miss affair. The ache of
longing as she stared at him made her burn with emotions she was terrified to acknowledge.

  He was beautiful.

  ‘He’s my lover.’

  But not my husband.

  Her hands clenched so hard that her nails left half-moon impressions in the soft flesh of her palms as she stared across at Tair.

  He was talking to another man who was leading two horses that pawed the ground impatiently as Tair said something that made the other man laugh out loud.

  Then suddenly, as if he sensed her eyes on him, Tair turned his head sharply. It was impossible from this distance for her to make out his expression and even if he had been closer his eyes were hidden behind a pair of designer shades.

  He stood motionless and Molly’s heart began to thud, the sound echoing in her ears as wave after wave of powerful, enervating lust and longing crashed over her.

  There was activity in the compound, but Molly felt as if she were wrapped in a pocket of stillness. A stillness that was broken when one of the horses, spooked by a loud noise, began to dance restlessly. As the man Tair had been talking to struggled to calm the second horse, the spooked animal pulled free, rose up on his hind legs and began to paw the air.

  Tair stepped forward, making no visible attempt to avoid the flailing hooves that were perilously close to his head.

  Molly held her breath. Tair seemed to be speaking to the animal but it seemed to her that words were a pretty poor defence against razor-sharp hooves attached to several hundred pounds of equine muscle!

  Why didn’t he just walk away as any person with half a brain would?

  ‘Oh, God!’ she groaned, fear like an icy fist in her belly as the flashing hooves whistled past Tair’s head and the snorting horse danced just out of reach.

  For pity’s sake, what was he trying to do to her?

  Teeth clenched, breath coming in short, shallow gasps, she stood, her eyes glued to the scene. ‘Stupid man!’ she whispered.

  Just because he looked like a god, did he think that quality extended to immortality?

  An image of Tair lying pale and still on the floor, his lifeblood seeping from the serrated edges of a wound, superimposed itself over her vision. She shook her head to banish it. This was one of those moments when a vivid imagination was a definite curse!

  Her heart was in her mouth as he advanced slowly, his hands held wide and all the time talking to the animal.

  ‘You’re going in the wrong direction, you crazy man.’ Sensible people ran in the opposite direction when they encountered danger. He seemed to rush to meet it.

  A silence fell over the encampment as Tair came close enough to pat the gleaming black flank of the wild-eyed animal. Molly couldn’t believe what she was seeing when he laid his head close to the steaming horse’s mane.

  Molly’s expression was now one of reluctant fascination. And she wasn’t the only person held in thrall. People had stopped what they were doing to watch this masterly display. Tair, apparently oblivious to the hush, carried on speaking to the animal.

  Molly shook her head. It was totally amazing when barely two minutes later the animal was nuzzling Tair’s palm like a lamb. Tair responded with a laugh to some comment from the man holding the other horse and then glanced towards Molly.

  A moment later he vaulted lightly onto the horse’s bare back. The reins in one hand, he nudged the animal’s flanks and the horse, responding to the pressure of the rider’s thighs, broke into a canter.

  Man and animal stopped a couple of feet from her. They made a pretty impressive picture, both beautiful and untamed.

  Molly folded her arms across her chest and maintained an unimpressed expression that slipped when the horse pawed the ground. She stepped backwards nervously, pretending she hadn’t seen Tair grin.

  ‘He won’t hurt you.’

  No, but you will, she thought as he leaned down to pat the animal’s neck and say something soft and soothing in his ear. You’ll hurt me because I’ve let you into my heart.

  Oh, God, she’d fallen in love with him.

  Tair looked at her paper-pale face and the amusement died from his face. ‘You really are scared of horses, aren’t you?’ He gave a self-recriminatory grimace and, casually looping his leg over the animal’s back, he slid down to the ground.

  He lifted his hand and raised his voice to a young boy standing a few feet away who immediately came running over. Tair handed him the reins and, shooting a shy smile in Molly’s direction, the boy led the animal away.

  ‘I suppose you think that display was smart?’ Her chest swelled with indignation as she added in a voice that quavered with emotion, ‘I suppose you think that you looked good?’ He always looked good. ‘Well, just for the record, and because I don’t suppose anyone else will tell you because it’s probably against the law to tell someone with blue blood they’re a posy prat, but it wasn’t smart, it was s-stupid and irresponsible and it would serve you right if you were lying on the floor.’ She looked at the dusty floor and imagined him there. ‘With y-your neck broken, and blood…I can’t decide if you’re an adrenaline junkie or just a selfish show-off. Either way I…’

  She stopped mid-rant just to draw breath and it dawned on her with horror that she had been yelling at the top of her lungs. With a gulp she pressed a hand to her mouth and struggled to hold back the floods of tears that she knew were only a blink away. She waited tensely for Tair to respond in some way to her emotional outburst. Way too emotional…If she didn’t keep a tighter control he was going to guess her true feelings for him and that would be too mortifying to bear.

  His eyes, concealed behind the mirrored surface of his shades, made it impossible to read what he might be thinking. A nerve clenching and unclenching in his lean cheek as he stood there looking at her was about the only clue—though not much of one. Just when she thought he was not going to react at all he expelled a long sigh.

  ‘I’m an adrenaline junkie,’ he confessed.

  She blinked as he pulled off the designer shades. The blaze of blue sent any control she’d managed to regain flying out the window.

  ‘When you marry me you can tame me of the habit.’

  ‘I don’t want to tame you.’ Why would any woman want to change the things that attracted her to a man in the first place?

  Which might be a relevant realisation if you were actually going to marry the man, Molly.

  ‘I’m sorry I scared you.’

  Now able to read his expression, she was disturbed by it and her eyes fell from his. She shrugged. ‘I don’t like the sight of blood…any blood,’ she added.

  ‘Don’t spoil it, Molly. I was feeling so special.’

  She lifted her head, prepared to deliver a stinging retort to this mocking comment, only to find he was looking at her with nothing that resembled mockery.

  He was looking at her with a kind of…longing…and she was so shocked that she said the first thing that popped into her head—which in her experience was nearly always a mistake and this time was no exception.

  ‘You are special.’ She glared accusingly at him, then, without intending to, took a step closer.

  ‘You look stunning.’

  She made a last-ditch attempt to resist the tug of his eyes. ‘I look like I’m auditioning for a place in your harem, but don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t dress like this for you.’

  ‘Of course not,’ he said, the amused placatory note in his voice bringing a resentful sparkle to her eyes. The resentment morphed to blushing confusion as he added throatily, ‘But you’d get the place.’

  ‘I wouldn’t take it. I’m not joining the ranks of the thousands of stupid women who would stand on their heads to get your attention.’

  ‘You really do not need to go to such lengths to get my attention, Molly. As my wife your place is assured.’

  Struggling to maintain a façade of calm was not easy when her insides were melting and her brain refused to think about anything but his mouth. Eventually she managed to say, ‘And I would l
ike to be informed the moment my own clothes are—’ She stopped dead as she found herself looking directly into his eyes. There was nothing covert about the message glowing in the azure depths.

  Molly was instantly submerged by a wave of longing so strong that for a second her nervous system was totally paralysed.

  ‘I can’t take my eyes off you.’

  ‘Oh, God!’ she groaned, lifting a shaky hand to her trembling lips. ‘Don’t say things like that.’

  ‘I thought you liked the truth?’

  ‘So did I.’ She lifted her shoulders and gave a distracted little grimace before revealing in a rush of honesty, ‘But I don’t know anything any more, Tair. I don’t even know myself.’ The woman she had seen in the mirror with the luminous eyes and secretive smile had not been her—it couldn’t be. She didn’t fall in love.

  Tair could identify with her confusion.

  In past relationships it had not been accidental that his partners had never asked where the relationship was going. He did not do emotional soul-searching and he did not get involved with women who were inclined that way.

  Tair had never had a sexual relationship with anyone who touched him on an emotional level and vulnerability was not a quality that he had ever sought in a woman.

  So why did he respond the way he did to the perplexed pleat in Molly’s smooth brow, the little wobble in her voice, and the bewildered look in her wide eyes? It was incomprehensible.

  He felt a totally foreign urge to take her tenderly in his arms and find the words to soothe her.

  Tair didn’t fight the compulsion, but neither did he look too deeply within himself for its source as he stretched out his hand and let his thumb stroke her cheek. These were feelings he had never expected to find within or outside marriage.

  The need to soothe became quickly submerged by a much more primitive, more compelling need as he felt the silky smoothness of her warm flesh and was reminded of how she felt beneath him—smooth and soft and hot. The hard kick of desire in his belly was physically painful as he framed her face between his hands.

  ‘You’re very beautiful.’

  Mesmerised by the glow in his eyes, Molly leaned into him. ‘It’s the dress,’ she whispered past the emotional constriction in her throat. She twitched the jewel-bright fabric with her hand and thought how much she wanted him. ‘It isn’t beige,’ she said. And neither was Tair.