‘Lucy?’
The sharp note in Tadj’s voice jolted her back to the present. Crossing her arms over her chest, as if he didn’t know every inch of her body already, she glanced at him, wishing things could be different. Shielded by the tent, and by the towering mountain behind it, she had thought about swimming naked, but having Tadj join her in the black boxers he’d stripped down to was danger enough. She gasped when he put an arm around her waist. ‘Sharps rocks,’ he warned. ‘Lean on me.’
The water was frigid with ice-melt from the mountains, but as they swam alongside each other Tadj steered her towards the cliff face where a waterfall was crashing down. What? She turned to look at him midstroke. If this was his idea of safety, she didn’t think much of it. She should have known he’d guide her through to the other side of the pounding cascade where they were completely shielded from the outside world. Holding her in place with his hard, wet body pinning her against the smooth rock, he remarked, ‘You swim well.’
Resting his forearms above her head, he made sure she wasn’t going anywhere. ‘And so do you,’ she conceded, staring at him levelly.
She wanted this more than anything, and yet dreaded the moment when Tadj broke down the emotional barriers dividing them, because that meant laying her heart on the line for the Emir of Qalala to trample. Tadj lost no time in claiming his reward. As the freezing torrent thundered around them, he drove his mouth down on hers.
Tadj was a madness she could never refuse—never wanted to lose—and she responded with matching passion. He was as vital to her existence as air to breathe, food to eat, and the heat of his body, together with the chill of the icy water, created a force that went way beyond caution. Upping the stakes, she wrapped her legs around his waist. She gasped, knowing she would never get used to the passion between them. This might not be how she’d planned the immediate future to pan out, but if sex was all they had...
Tadj soon removed her bra and thong, and it was his turn to groan with pleasure as he mapped her naked body. ‘Yes!’ he hissed between his teeth, taking her firmly with one smooth thrust of his hips. From there it was a crazy race to the finish, while she worked with him, matching his force. They couldn’t get enough of each other, so no sooner was one violent release achieved, than they were pursuing the next. Some wild force had possessed them, and as Tadj raked his sharp black stubble against her neck, she bit his shoulder, urging him on with words she barely recognised. They were like two animals in the prime of life, mating fiercely and unaware of anything else.
‘Yes!’ she screamed, not even trying to hold back when each shattering release had her in its grip. Sometimes sensation could be enough, and this was one of those times. Tadj had always been the consummate lover, and even here in the lagoon, with water crashing around them, he made sure that he extracted every available pulse of pleasure, and when she was quiet again, he teased her into awareness, by moving steadily and carefully, until her weary little bud had sparked back to life again.
‘Oh, yes,’ Lucy crooned as Tadj maintained a dependable and steady rhythm. Nestling her head against his chest, she let him do all the work, while she rested, floating in the water, concentrating on the place that had become the centre of her universe. He knew just what to do, how to stimulate and encourage, and it wasn’t long before she was on the edge again.
‘Now,’ he instructed in a whisper against her ear.
‘Oh, yes,’ she groaned thankfully, as he pushed her over the edge into pleasure with a few firm thrusts.
‘Once more, I think,’ he said when she rested, gasping for breath.
‘No, I’m done,’ she said groggily, glad of his hands supporting her buttocks as she hung replete in his arms.
‘I don’t think so,’ Tadj argued. ‘I know you, and there’s more. Shall I prove it to you?’
‘Please,’ she begged, loving the way his big hands tightened on her buttocks.
‘You don’t have to do anything, except experience pleasure,’ he murmured in a low, husky tone.
How many lovers had used these cooling waters to sate their heated passion? She and Tadj were part of the lagoon’s history now. That was Lucy’s last thought before pleasure invaded her mind, and, for now, pleasure was enough.
They left the lagoon swimming side by side with long, leisurely strokes. Lucy’s limbs felt heavy, and she felt sated. It was almost as if neither of them was in a hurry to return to dry land, where reality ruled. That sense of reality was challenged as soon as she climbed out of the water and spotted a pile of fresh towels left ready for them on the bank. This wasn’t her usual reality, Lucy concluded as she wrapped a towel around her body, and the towels only emphasised the point that the Emir of Qalala was never completely alone; nor would his private life remain private for long.
But whatever else happened today, she had this to remember, she thought as Tadj secured a towel around his washboard waist.
Back in the tent, Lucy was surprised to find a silk tunic with matching silk trousers, in a soft shade of cerulean blue, waiting for her on the bed. It was the same style she’d noticed the Qalalan women wearing. Their fashions had intrigued her, as they were more active wear than purely decorative.
‘Do you like them?’ Tadj asked. ‘It’s a perfect outfit for the party,’ he said, skimming a glance over the outfit.
‘The party?’ Lucy queried. ‘I thought we’d get chance to talk. After all, we’ve got a lot to sort out...’
Tadj’s stare was cool. He’d switched to Emir in an instant. Well, if he thought she was a candidate for his harem, he could think again.
‘If my people organise a party to welcome me back, that takes precedence over everything else.’
Gritting her teeth, she reminded herself not to lose her cool. This was Tadj’s kingdom, and she was his guest. ‘Of course. I’ll be proud to be your guest.’
‘You’ll be attending as my mistress,’ Tadj rapped out.
‘Do you intend to make an official announcement to that effect?’ Lucy exclaimed with frustration. She’d never tacitly agreed that she would become his mistress. In fact she’d hoped he wouldn’t hold her to that now everything about her stepfather was out in the open and he’d already put plans into place to deal with him.
Besides, she didn’t fit the brief of any man’s mistress, especially not the Emir of Qalala’s. She was far too independent to be locked away in a fort awaiting His Majesty’s pleasure—not to mention the fact that she’d been spared the flamboyant good looks she imagined must be necessary to hold down the post of official mistress. She didn’t possess the sophistication, or the class to mix in high society. She was happiest with her friends at the laundry, or with her student chums at college, where she dressed as they did, in cheap tops and jeans. Above and beyond all that, she was about to become a mother, and with a child to support, as well as a career to plan, she didn’t have time to waste swanning about.
‘I won’t need to announce anything,’ Tadj informed her with a relaxed shrug, with about as much emotion as if they’d been discussing the weather. ‘And, rest assured, I’ve no intention of embarrassing you.’
‘Your people will guess when they see me at your side?’ Lucy supposed.
‘Correct,’ he agreed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘AS WE’VE DISCUSSED, arrangements have been made to keep your mother safe.’
‘Thank you.’
‘However,’ he continued, brushing off her gratitude, ‘until I receive certain reassurances, you will stay in Qalala.’ Tadj’s stare was penetrating. ‘I understand that you had to get away, and would do anything—use anyone—to make sure that happened.’
‘Please don’t look at me like that. I never set out to get pregnant, but I’m glad that I am.’
‘Can I believe you?’
‘You must,’ she insisted softly.
‘For the sake of our child?’
Tadj suggested. ‘I suppose I’ll never know what you were thinking three months ago. I can only make plans going forward from now.’
Anger surged inside her. They were both in the wrong, and she had no intention of being painted as the only sinner. ‘How do you think I feel, when you ask me to be your mistress, to satisfy your sexual urges?’
‘My sexual urges?’ Tadj laughed out loud. ‘That’s rich, coming from you. Bottom line,’ he snapped, before Lucy had chance to speak, ‘you’re under my protection, and there you will stay—and that includes you, your mother, and the baby.’
‘Our baby,’ she fired back. ‘And my stepfather? What are you going to do about him? No one’s safe while he’s roaming free.’
‘Your stepfather has been returned to jail where he belongs, and he won’t be coming out of prison ever again, once my investigators have shared their information.’
Lucy was stunned into silence. She couldn’t believe that her stepfather’s tyranny was at an end. It meant she was free, and her mother was safe. Tadj had accomplished the seemingly impossible, by lifting a lifetime of fear and dread from her shoulders. ‘It’s really over?’ she whispered as she marvelled at this fact.
‘And always will be from now on,’ Tadj confirmed. ‘I wish you’d told me from the start.’
‘We hardly knew each other,’ she pointed out. ‘I wouldn’t burden you with that on the first day we met.’
‘All the same, I wish you had,’ Tadj told her.
‘How can I ever thank you?’ she asked.
‘I’ll think of something,’ he promised with one of his dark, unreadable looks. ‘But now you’d better get ready for the party. That’s one way you can repay me tonight.’
By keeping up a good front, Lucy thought, longing for more as Tadj added, ‘Call your mother. Let her know the good news, and then get ready. I’ll return to collect you in half an hour.’
‘Half an hour,’ Lucy agreed tensely, knowing the phone call would take up every moment of that time.
* * *
What Lucy could never have expected was that several women would approach the tent just as she had tearfully ended the call to her mother and offer to help Lucy get ready for the party. It was impossible not to succumb to their warmth and friendliness. The way they had welcomed her to their community reminded Lucy of her first day at the laundry, where she’d made so many new friends. Just like them, these women were full of advice on how to wear her hair, and what make-up to put on. Language wasn’t a barrier as several of them spoke English fluently.
‘You should grow your hair,’ one of the women insisted, and when Lucy asked why, she was told that a lover liked to run his fingers through long hair, while another, bolder woman, suggested other uses, when it came to teasing a man into a state where he would agree to anything. Lucy laughed with them, and said that her hair would have to do, and that whatever help they gave her, she would never be glamorous as they were. In Lucy’s opinion, their exotic sloe-eyed beauty completely eclipsed her own Celtic complexion with its peppering of freckles. This statement was greeted by a chorus of disagreement, but what would Tadj think? she wondered when one of the women had directed her to a full-length mirror. Gone was the utilitarian outfit she had arrived in, and in its place was a two-piece of such exquisite workmanship she felt like a queen.
Queen for a night, Lucy reflected ruefully as the women tweaked and smoothed the delicate fabric of her trousers and matching tunic. There wasn’t much they could do with her short haircut other than to place a single hibiscus blossom behind her ear.
So, hang me, I’m excited, she thought, imagining Tadj’s expression when he saw her all dressed up for the party. Even after everything that had happened between them, the prospect of spending time with the sometimes forbidding Emir of Qalala made her face burn and her body sing hallelujah in four-part harmony.
‘You look beautiful,’ one of the older woman told her. ‘The Emir won’t be able to resist you.’
‘He’ll fall in love with you,’ another insisted.
Lucy’s shoulders slumped. Somehow, she doubted that.
‘You’re ready, I see.’
She whirled around to find Tadj standing behind her. He was silhouetted in the opening of the tent, backed by the blaze of countless campfires, and the sight of him dressed in traditional desert garb was enough to convince her that Lucy Gillingham was indeed a lost cause. Her pulse was racing, while her body was going crazy in the presence of her all-powerful fantasy desert Sheikh made all too heart-stoppingly real. In a simple black tunic, with loose-fitting trousers and a headdress wrapped around his fiercely handsome face, this desert king was sex on two hard-muscled legs. She was smitten all over again.
Love swelled inside her. As did doubt. The power of his presence was undeniably formidable, but did Tadj respect her as the mother of his child, or was she a convenient womb, to be dismissed as soon as their baby was safely delivered? For a woman who had seized control of her life and had been steering it in a steady and constant direction for some time now, it was unnerving to know that this was one situation over which she had no control.
Lucy’s stepfather had been a problem, which Tadj had dealt with in his usual incisive way. She wouldn’t be troubled again. Even after everything they’d been through, he wouldn’t change a thing, Tadj concluded as he stared past the group of smiling women to the only woman who could turn his life upside down. Lucy looked stunning tonight, though he’d put her on show, and had expected her to behave a certain way, and that while she was vulnerable and her life was under the microscope. To her credit, she hadn’t let him down. It remained to be seen how she would handle tonight’s raw desert gathering.
Lucy proved to have a natural friendly way with everyone. How could he have forgotten that? he wondered, remembering her many friends at the laundry as he took in the crowd that had gathered around her on cushions in front of the open fire. With one of the older women acting as Lucy’s unofficial interpreter, he wondered if the questions would ever end, though she fielded all of them with grace and humour, which was more than he deserved.
She felt his gaze on her, and stared at him in a way that made him want to join her immediately, but it was time for him to receive the fealty of the heads of tribes. He felt her continuing interest as he did this, and briefly wished he could offer Lucy more, but, until the law of the land was changed, Qalala expected him to make a politically advantageous marriage, and to please his people that would have to be soon.
When the formalities were over, he stripped off his top. Lucy seemed surprised when he dumped it onto the cushion next to her.
‘Are we about to give a practical demonstration of my place in your world?’ she asked discreetly.
Her words made him instantly hard, but he shot her a look, to warn her not to try his patience. No one addressed the Emir of Qalala in front of his people in a disrespectful way. ‘I am preparing for the games,’ he informed her.
Pulling her head back, she gave him one of her looks. ‘Didn’t I just say that?’
‘The desert games,’ he said patiently, though a betraying twitch of his lips might have given him away. No one could make him laugh at himself like Lucy.
‘Indeed,’ she said, flinching when someone handed him a sabre. ‘Don’t cut yourself with that.’
‘I’ll try not to,’ he assured her. Dipping at the waist, he brought his mouth close to her ear. ‘Rest assured, no one has lost their life at one of these gatherings yet.’
‘There’s always a first time,’ she said brightly.
His warning look was completely wasted, though she did have the good grace to look alarmed when one of the tribesmen brought up his horse.
‘Is that thing even safe to ride?’
With a brief ironic glance, he leapt onto the back of his black stallion. ‘We shall see,’ he murmured.
‘Just remember,’ she sa
id, springing up and grabbing the bridle, ‘you’ve got responsibilities now.’
‘You’re beginning to sound like a wife,’ he commented as he wheeled his horse around.
‘And you’re the very spit of a delinquent husband,’ she yelled after him as he galloped away.
He should be angry, but he wanted Lucy too much to be impatient with her for long, and, with the heat of competition on him, he was keen to get these games over with, and turn lust into reality. Whatever the outcome, Lucy would be in his bed tonight, where he’d be sure to make her pay, and in the most pleasurable way imaginable, for her unadulterated cheek.
Stay safe, you stubborn son-of-a-she-wolf, Lucy thought, clenching her fists with anxiety as she watched Tadj line up with the other riders, all of whom were mounted on spirited horses. There were women in the mix, she noticed with interest. So why was she sitting by the fireside? She was a damn good rider, and had been happy on horseback since her father had strapped her into a basket saddle on an old Shetland pony when she could barely walk. And these desert games weren’t so much violent as skilful, she decided as a huge cheer went up. Riders raced down a torchlit track in pairs towards a gourd hanging from a pole. That was exactly the type of game she’d played with her friends. The first jockey to cut the gourd and return to the start line was the winner. Her gaze flashed to the pony lines, where several likely-looking animals stood waiting...
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