Desert Prince, Defiant Virgin

by Kim Lawrence

  But her life was and it would be again, as soon she would be going back to it.

  Her spirits took a downward lurch.

  She turned her face a little, pressed her lips to his palm and told herself that she didn’t really belong here in the desert, or in Tair’s bed. There was no question of marriage…that would be insane. But while she was here it would be criminally stupid not to make the most of this little interlude.

  An interlude that would always be precious to her, and one that she was definitely going to extract every last shred of pleasure from.

  His dark head dipped towards hers and she closed her eyes, anticipating his kiss, feeling a serious anticlimax when his hands fell away from her face.

  A moment later he swore.

  She opened her eyes and saw he was staring out into the desert presumably seeing something that was way more interesting than kissing her. She resisted the strong impulse to remind him that she was the one he’d been kissing and shaded her eyes to follow the direction of his gaze.

  At first Molly couldn’t see anything, but then she caught the glint of sun reflecting off metal.

  Slowly the silver ribbon in the distance and the cloud of dust above it got closer and defined itself as a convoy of vehicles.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘YOU have visitors.’

  Tair flicked Molly a look and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Yes.’

  Molly took a shred of comfort from the contact and the fact he didn’t sound any more pleased than she felt. She felt his long fingers tighten on her as the convoy stopped a few hundred yards away.

  The sun shone off their tinted windows. At her side she was aware of Tair stiffening, and she glanced at him, a questioning look on her face just as the driver got out of the first vehicle.

  Tair just shook his head, took his hands from her shoulders and said in a flat voice, ‘Go inside, Molly.’

  She ignored him.

  ‘I said, go inside, Molly,’ he repeated, his eyes trained on the driver scurrying around to open the passenger door.

  ‘I heard you. I’m ignoring you.’ Was her presence an embarrassment to him? The possibility hurt more than it should have.

  ‘Please, Molly.’

  ‘That was nicer,’ she approved, still determinedly standing where she was.

  She had read somewhere, and it had seemed sensible at the time, that you should establish some ground rules at the beginning of any relationship.

  But this wasn’t the start of a relationship or anything else. Molly turned her head as without warning her eyes filled with tears. It was one thing to acknowledge something on an intellectual level, but to be forced to do so emotionally was not nearly so easy to deal with.

  At least he didn’t know she loved him, though, strangely, the recognition of how much worse things could be did not make her feel better.

  ‘Fine, Molly, message received, you don’t do orders. But I really don’t have time for this, so just do as you’re told for once without an argument…’

  He sounded so weary that she struggled to respond with the necessary level of belligerence the comment justified. The lines of strain bracketing his mouth worried her, which was stupid because if ever a man knew how to look after himself it was Tair.

  ‘Have you any idea how sexist that sounds?’

  He flashed her a look that said he didn’t care, which about summed up his attitude to political correctness, but before she could respond to this silent provocation the driver, who had been joined by four tough-looking individuals clad in traditional white desert garb opened the passenger door and bowed his head.

  Molly heard Tair swear softly under his breath as a man dressed in a similar fashion to the others emerged.

  There the similarity ended.

  Molly didn’t need to see the other men bowing respectfully low to tell her this man was in charge; it was written all over him. The same, she realised, was true of Tair. His title was not the reason people showed him respect—he was simply the sort of man that people looked to when there were difficult decisions to be made. Tair was the man who made tough choices and took both the responsibility and the consequences that went with those decisions.

  And who did Tair turn to for support? Was that one aspect of being the archetypal alpha male that was hidden away in the small print…?

  This new alpha male didn’t look as though he found the role a burden. He wasn’t young, but it was difficult to gauge his age very precisely because, despite the lines in his leathery dark-skinned face, he stood erect and moved like a youthful man. She could feel the vitality he exuded from where she was standing.

  He also exuded anger and towering disapproval.

  The four muscular men took up positions at his side, their attitudes alert as they scanned for hidden enemies. The most disturbing factor from Molly’s point of view was their sinister accessories, such as the rifles the men wore slung over their shoulders like fashion items. To her relief they showed no sign of pointing them at anyone and instead they bowed very low and respectfully to Tair, who nodded his head in response and said something in his native tongue.

  They glanced towards the older man, who nodded almost imperceptibly as if confirming the order that Tair had given. He then walked towards them, before stopping a few feet away.

  Tair moved in front of her a little.

  It was tempting to tell herself the gesture was protective and that he was trying to shield her from the stern visitor’s disapproval, but she knew it was much more likely he was embarrassed by her presence. Maybe this incident had achieved what she had failed to—he had finally realised that she did not fit into his life.

  It shouldn’t hurt, as she knew that despite his reluctant proposal Tair’s feelings towards her went no deeper than sexual attraction, but it did anyway.

  It hurt like a dull knife sliding between her ribs into her aching heart.

  Pride made Molly lift her chin another defiant degree. She had nothing to be ashamed of. If you discounted stupidity, that was. She was stupid, not because she’d fallen in love, although that wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but because she’d previously thought with a mixture of arrogance and ignorance that falling in love was something you had a choice about!

  She stepped out of Tair’s shadow, leaving her semi-concealment, and with her chin still raised said without looking at him, ‘I’m sorry if you’re ashamed of me, Tair, but I’m not about to hide away to spare your blushes in front of your friends.’

  Tair muttered a savage imprecation and spun her around. One hand in the small of her narrow back, he curved the other around her chin and forced her face up to his.

  When she had said blushes Molly had not actually believed him capable of that weakness, but the dark streaks of colour she could see running along the angle of his cheekbones suggested otherwise.

  ‘Ashamed?’ he bit out, apparently oblivious to the audience. ‘The only thing I am ashamed of is having taken your innocence.’

  She could hear the self-recrimination in his voice and in the space of a single heartbeat Molly went from rigid and defensive to melting and unguarded. The depth of her emotions shone in her amber eyes as she lifted a hand to his cheek. ‘You didn’t take…I gave.’

  He inhaled sharply and groaned something in Arabic before drawing her up on her tiptoes and covering her mouth in a kiss that went on and on.

  The kiss was both fiercely possessive and exquisitely tender and there were tears of emotion standing in her eyes when he finally lifted his mouth from hers. They stayed close, lips not quite touching, motionless, eyes locked, breaths mingling. Tair’s fingers trailed in her hair, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin on the back of her nape, making her shiver.

  It was Tair who broke the tableau. He drew a breath and said, ‘Come.’

  Molly stared for a moment at the hand extended to her, then reached out and allowed her fingers to be enfolded in his firm warm grip.

  It took a few seconds for Molly to fight c
lear of the sensual thrall that enveloped her, and when she did her glance connected with the dark beady stare of the silent visitor. Her eyes opened wide as she was totally unnerved to realise she had forgotten he was there. She dredged a smile from somewhere and looked to Tair, her expression questioning.

  ‘Molly, this is my grandfather, Sheikh Rashid bin-Rafiq.’

  Molly’s eyes widened, and she felt a slow flush of intense embarrassment wash over her skin as she became conscious that they had embraced in front of Tair’s grandfather.

  Great! As first impressions went this one took some beating. Presumably this conservative Arab sheikh, the product of a very different culture from her own, now had her mentally listed under the heading of shameless hussy. Maybe she should enjoy her notoriety and do something really shocking? It was an interesting idea, but her experience of shocking was severely limited.

  ‘Grandfather, this is—’

  ‘I know who she is, Tair.’ The dark eyes flicked over Molly before he turned his frowning attention to his grandson. ‘It is your identity I am unsure of.’ He looked at Tair and shook his head. ‘I am most displeased.’

  There was a spark of annoyance in Tair’s eyes as he gave his grandfather an ironic bow. ‘I’m sorry to have incurred your disapproval, Grandfather. I offer no excuses.’

  The old man gave a snort. He glanced towards the stationary vehicles and in a lowered voice enquired, ‘Have you lost your mind?’

  Tair’s lips curved into a sardonic smile. ‘It is possible.’

  The sheikh threw up his hands. ‘I am out of patience with you.’

  Clearly he was not the only one as almost before the words had left his mouth the door of the second vehicle was suddenly flung open and two men got out, the first in an explosive fashion, the second with a lot more reluctance.

  The sheikh turned his head and said in a voice of irritation, ‘Tariq, I thought we agreed—’

  ‘I tried to hold him back,’ Khalid cut in, huffing a bit as he quickened his pace to keep up with his brother who was striding towards them.

  Twenty-four hours earlier Molly would have been ecstatic to see her brothers, but now her emotions were far less clear-cut.

  The older man walked to intercept them. ‘I thought we agreed you wait until Tair had a chance to tell me what is actually going on.’

  ‘I can see what’s going on!’ Tariq retorted, slinging Tair a murderous glare. Tair just stood there looking unapologetic.

  Molly squeezed her eyes closed. This was a nightmare!

  ‘This isn’t what it looks like,’ she said, trying to pacify the situation.

  Beside her Tair stiffened. ‘Yes, it is.’

  The quiet provocation drew a sharp hiss of anger from Tariq.

  ‘I was talking to them, not you, Tair. And please do not start telling me to go indoors.’ She turned to her brothers. ‘This is all totally unnecessary.’ Her last observation was addressed to all of the men and as far as she could tell made no impression on any of them.

  ‘Let her go!’ Tariq gritted, his eyes on Tair’s fingers curled around her wrist.

  ‘Tariq, calm down. What are you doing here anyway? I thought Beatrice was ill.’

  ‘She’s better.’ Her brother’s eyes searched her face. ‘Are you all right?’ The narrow-eyed glance he slid in Tair’s direction made it pretty clear where he would lay the blame if she wasn’t.

  Very aware of Tair beside her, she tried to smile. It was clearly essential to diffuse this potentially explosive situation and as no one else showed any interest at all in playing peacemaker the role seemed to fall to her.

  ‘I’m fine.’ It seemed churlish to say that she didn’t want to be rescued, so she struggled to adopt an expression approaching welcome as she moved to meet them halfway.

  Her brothers stopped about a foot away and for a long moment nobody said a word. The aura of violence shimmering in the air as Tariq and Tair locked glances was almost tangible.

  It was Tair who broke the silence.

  The next few exchanges were in Arabic, with a few hair-raising French curses thrown in, but it wasn’t exactly hard to get the general gist.

  Khalid, who had not taken part in the interchange, was staring at Molly. ‘Is that really you, Molly?’ He shook his head. ‘You look incredible.’

  ‘Thanks, Khalid,’ she said, then turned to Tair and Tariq. ‘Look, you two, all this macho posturing is quite unnecessary. It’s all just a silly misunderstanding…it’s funny, really.’

  Nobody laughed.

  ‘I’m leaving, but not without Molly,’ Tariq said.

  Khalid cleared his throat and impressed Molly with his bravery by stepping between the two older men. ‘Look, let’s be sensible about this—nobody wants a fight.’

  At that point Tariq landed a solid right to Tair’s jaw. Tair, who was driven back several steps by the impetus, made no attempt to avoid it or retaliate. He just stood there looking so noble that Molly wanted to scream. Then she saw the blood and her stomach lurched.

  Tariq, who looked disappointed by his cousin’s response or, rather, lack of it, was too slow to stop Molly flying to Tair’s side.

  ‘Oh, my God, you’re bleeding!’ she cried in horror. ‘Look what you’ve done, Tariq—how could you?’ She sent her brother a fierce glare as she touched the blood seeping from the corner of Tair’s mouth with her fingers.

  ‘Come away from him, Molly,’ Tariq warned.

  Molly gritted her teeth. She was so sick of men and their orders.

  ‘It is fine, Molly. Do not fuss, and it is nothing more than I deserve,’ Tair said, appearing totally unappreciative of her frantic mediator act. ‘It makes it no better, Tariq, but I did not know when I—’

  ‘Abducted her,’ Tariq finished for him.

  There was a flush along Tair’s cheekbones as he nodded and continued speaking, this time in his own tongue. From her brother’s exclamations and the glances in her direction she assumed that Tariq was given a brief explanation.

  When Tair stopped speaking Tariq turned to her.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell him, Molly?’

  It was bad enough having Tair make this her fault, but she wasn’t going to take that from her brother.

  ‘Khalid is the one who told him I was Bea’s friend to begin with, and you, Tariq, asked me to consider your father’s feelings.’

  Tariq turned to Tair. ‘I still don’t see how you could think I would have an affair, Tair?’

  Beside his brother, Khalid cleared his throat. ‘Before you get on your high horse, Tariq, you might recall that there was a time when you thought I was in love with Bea.’

  Tair, speaking quietly, interrupted the brotherly interchange. ‘She tried to tell me—’ Tair’s eyes glanced at her face ‘—and I didn’t believe her. I’m sorry, Molly, and I beg your pardon for believing the things I did about your relationship with Tariq. My actions to you were inexcusable.’

  ‘No argument here in that score.’ Despite his words, Tariq looked visibly mollified by the unstinting apology.

  Sheikh Rashid, who had watched the scene silently, now stepped forward.

  ‘We will discuss this situation in more comfortable and private surroundings.’

  It was not an invitation and all the men responded as such.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE sheikh, who had arranged himself on a pile of silken cushions, impatiently waved away the refreshment and the people who offered it and waited for Molly and the three men to sit down.

  Once he was satisfied that he had everyone’s undivided attention he spoke. ‘Of course you will marry her.’

  It was not a question, just a simple statement of fact.

  Tair inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘We have discussed it.’

  Molly knew that in the future she would always associate the scent of incense that hung heavily in the air with insanity. Not that her future was likely to hold many incense-laden moments, which could not be a bad thing.

  So why di
d her heart sink to somewhere below her knees at the thought of a return to her neatly ordered existence? Would it be that simple? she wondered uneasily. Getting on the plane would obviously be no problem, but would distance put an end to the fragmented steamy images that kept flickering across her vision at the most inappropriate of moments?

  And would it stop the empty ache in her heart?

  ‘I think we should settle on a date now.’

  Out of respect for Tair’s grandfather, Molly compressed her lips, locking the slightly hysterical laugh in her aching throat.

  She watched her brothers exchange glances.

  Khalid looked as if he wished he were somewhere else, a sentiment that Molly could readily identify with, and Tariq looked only a shade less grim than Tair.

  ‘My uncle might feel awkward about their marriage,’ Tariq remarked to nobody in particular. They were all acting as though she weren’t there, a circumstance that Molly was finding increasingly aggravating.

  The sheikh smiled grimly. ‘Leave my son-in-law to me. I have some leverage in that direction.’

  Tariq nodded. ‘The wedding will therefore take place at the palace as soon as possible.’

  Molly stared at the grave faces. This had to be an elaborate joke. Any minute now someone would laugh and shout, Got you!

  Molly’s eyes moved from one man to the next, her incredulity deepening—nobody was laughing yet. ‘Have you all gone mad?’

  They finally acknowledged her presence.

  Tariq patted her hand in a soothing manner that made her want to scream. ‘I understand that it isn’t an ideal situation, Molly.’

  Molly snatched her hand away and shrieked, ‘Ideal!’ She gave a hard laugh. ‘It’s insane is what it is! You lot look sane, but actually you’re all stark raving mad! I thought you two at least were civilised,’ she said to her brothers. ‘Tair does not want to marry me.’