Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology

by Violet Vaughn

  “I can look myself in the mirror every morning and be proud of the man I’ve become. If all I cared about was wielding authority and bending the world to my will, I’d be happy to choose one of the women who flock around me with flattering words, hoping for the title of queen. Such toadying doesn’t please me at all. In fact, I despise it.”

  They walked past a row of night-blooming bushes that released a rich scent into the air. It was hard not to be intoxicated by the setting, as well as its charismatic owner. Osman was clearly a man of principle, who put considerable thought and care into everything he did.

  Except for choosing her as his future wife. That still made no sense.

  A purring sound nearby made her jump. “What’s that?”

  “The cats.” Osman kept walking. In the moonlight she could make out the bars of an elaborate cage. She turned toward them, too curious not to investigate. As she drew closer, she saw bright green eyes piercing the darkness, but she couldn’t make out the bodies of the creatures at all.

  “Are they panthers?”

  Osman had followed her over to the cage. “Black leopards. They were my father’s. They’re the traditional pet of kings here in Ubar.”

  “How cool. I guess you should get cozy with them now you’re going to be king.”

  “I haven’t had time to make an acquaintance with them, and I have no intention of rushing into a relationship with a beast that could rip my throat out as soon as look at me.” She could make out his wry smile in the moonlight.

  “I think they’re lovely. I think I saw a woman walking one of them when I was out here earlier. Who was she?”

  He hesitated and frowned. “That would be Aliyah, my father’s fifth wife.”

  “How come none of you talk about her?”

  “The truth is we don’t know her. We were all gone overseas to school or otherwise occupied by the time my father married her. We’ve tried to make friends with her since we’ve been back, but she’s painfully shy. She’s far younger than any of us. Even now I don’t think she’s much over twenty.”

  “And she still lives in the palace?”

  “Of course. Where else would she live?”

  “Perhaps she’d like to have her own house.” Sam wondered if the girl was intimidated by all these tall, imposing men.

  “Alone?” Osman looked scandalized. “Ubarite women are far more comfortable in the heart of their family. In time I’m sure we’ll all become close.”

  “Did she love your father?”

  “I doubt it. He was an old man when they wed. He spent decades sowing his wild oats even before his first marriage to my mother. I’d assume Aliyah was railroaded into marriage by a greedy family. She’s very beautiful.”

  “Wouldn’t it make some sense for you to marry her?”

  Osman snorted. “That might be the most traditional approach, but as I said she’s almost a child and has no education or experience of the world. I feel sorry for her, but I have no desire to add to her misery by claiming her for my bed.”

  “Perhaps you should make more of an effort to welcome her into the family.”

  “You display admirable compassion, Samantha, but the situation is complicated. Emotions still run high in the wake of my father’s death. All of us were surprised by the odd terms of the will that split the country among the three of us, to rule as equals. The last thing we need is to worry about the feelings—and possibly even the ambitions—of yet another person. She has children. She may wish for them to rule Ubar one day. One must be very careful in a situation like this.”

  Sam frowned. “Why would you inherit the kingdom and not her children, when you all share the same father?”

  “Hers are girls.” He said it as if the result should be obvious. That irked her.

  “And girls don’t have the right to rule?”

  “Not by default. The standing rule is that the oldest male heir inherits all, but there have been queens in Ubar and no doubt there will be again. Since my father has already defied the old order, the applecart is tilting and could be further upset.”

  “You see that young girl as a threat because her children won’t inherit the throne and she might want revenge?” It was hard to believe.

  He stopped and took her hands in his. “In my position, Sam, anyone is a potential threat.” His tone, serious and a touch mournful, dragged her back to the tragedy of the explosion and the sudden deaths. Osman was meant to be among the dead. A prospect that filled her with horror. She could understand his wariness of anyone who might be his silent and secret enemy.

  “You think she could have allies who will seek to overthrow you.” She spoke softly, glancing over her shoulder. Anyone could be listening in the dark, with all the trees to hide behind.

  “Time will tell. My experience in business urges caution.” His eyes reflected the moon. “I’m a naturally cautious man, though you might not believe it.” His mouth twitched slightly, his full lips unbearably sensual. “But my caution evaporates when I’m near you.”

  This time he didn’t plunge in for a bold kiss. His lips hovered just a few inches from hers, heat and tension building in the space between them. Her lips twitched, wanting to press themselves against his. Her nipples thickened and her belly tightened, anticipation building in her most private places. Even the tiny hairs on her arms stood pricked with awareness, waiting.

  Then she kissed him.

  She couldn’t help it. Her lips moved toward his like a magnet to its polar opposite, and sweet relief flooded her as his mouth met hers and kissed her back. Their arms flew to embrace each other. Her fingers clutched at him, and the aching tension of the day mutated into passion that fueled a fiery kiss.

  Her knees trembled, and a tiny sigh escaped her throat without permission. She had to kiss him. She’d wanted to so badly that she had no choice. Thank goodness he was alive, no thanks to his mysterious assailant. The events of the day made her admire and appreciate this kind, brave man who’d done nothing but try to please her for two solid days.

  His hand on her backside excited her. Already she could feel his erection hard against her, and she craved the feel of him inside her. She rubbed her body against him, pressing her sensitive nipples to his chest. She loved the masculine roughness of his cheeks and chin, and the rich, warm scent of him. Everything about him sent her senses into overdrive.

  She wanted to rip his clothes off and admire the outline of his powerful body in the moonlight. His hands ran urgently over her silky attire, pulling the fabric taut against her body and lifting her dress until he’d reached right underneath it and his hot palm pressed against her waist.

  Sam’s breath came hard and fast now, and she couldn’t form a coherent thought. She was all touch: her fingers in his hair, on his stubbled jaw, along the hollow of his spine and the bold curve of his backside.

  I want you to make love to me. Her body shouted it, but she managed to keep the words from passing her lips. She couldn’t give him that kind of power over her.

  “You are the only woman for me, Samantha.” He pulled his lips from hers long enough to growl the words.

  Am I?

  The question sped across her mind like a bird passing in front of the moon. Maybe there was something to all his talk of destiny. Perhaps his supreme self-confidence was well placed and she should bow to his greater wisdom in these matters.

  Her body certainly liked the idea. Her insides already pulsed as if she was on the brink of an orgasm, and they hadn’t even undressed. She’d never known anything like this kind of desire. Certainly not with Allan.

  Allan. Guilt and disappointment soaked over her like a sudden shower. What was she thinking kissing Osman while a man who still thought he was her fiancé sat waiting for her?

  “Don’t worry, my treasure,” murmured Osman, as if he could read her mind. “There are no problems we can’t solve together.” His touch was tender and insistent, and her skin hummed under his fingers. “Rest assured, I’ll make you the happiest wo
man alive.”

  Right now she believed him one hundred percent. Of course, it wasn’t her brain talking. She knew that. Heat snapped through her, and her nerves jumped with messages of desire. The longing building inside her grew so intense, so unbearable that she found herself clawing at his robe, trying to lift it so she could feel him underneath it.

  Did men wear underwear in Ubar? It didn’t feel like it. Curiosity and passion knotted her gut into a snarl of excitement as her fingers plucked at the rough silk of his robe.

  Then she heard the sound of a man clearing his throat behind them.

  Osman’s head jerked up. “Eldar, what is it?” He couldn’t hide the irritation in his voice. Eldar was the man who’d surprised them during their kiss in the tent, too. Was this a coincidence or something more sinister? She remembered how one of his men’s footsteps had been found in the sand near his car.

  Of course that was probably just because they helped unpack it, but still. She kept her face pressed to Osman’s strong shoulder, unwilling to turn and face the interloper, even though there could be no doubt as to her identity.

  “Dinner, your highness.” Eldar’s voice contained a smarmy apology.

  “In the future, Eldar, please respect my privacy and announce your arrival from a greater distance.” Osman had stiffened, and she could feel his frustration at being interrupted. Even future kings could suffer management difficulties apparently.

  “Yes, your highness.”

  She heard the sweep of Eldar’s robe as he turned and left.

  Osman stroked her hair. “It’s not easy being a public figure even in your own home. I’m still trying to work the kinks out.”

  “Do you trust him?” Her concern for Osman’s safety trumped her worries about offending him. And Osman hadn’t been back here that long. He might be unaware of palace intrigues that had festered for years in his absence. “It just occurs to me that if one of your staff wanted to make a power play he now has two less people in the way.”

  “Eldar?” Osman blew out. He still held her close against his chest, and she could feel his heart beating. “He’s not even been here that long. The two who died were my father’s closest confidants, but Eldar and Isfir, the fourth guard, were hired shortly before I arrived. They were chosen especially for their sharp-shooting capabilities.”

  “And how do you know they are trustworthy?”

  “They came with high references. Rifal hired them himself.”

  “You might want to have someone you trust do more checking into them.”

  “I’ll take your advice, Samantha.” He said it earnestly. “I appreciate your concern.”

  “Damn you, you’ve made me actually care about you.” It was horrifying and funny at the same time. She’d managed to extricate herself from their embrace, and it now seemed both embarrassing and extraordinary that she’d fallen into it. She smoothed her hair and attempted to erase some of the wrinkles in her dress. How did he have such an effect on her?

  It was obvious she wouldn’t be safe until she was back on American soil.

  One more day. All she had to do was not sleep with him—or marry him!—for one more day, and she could run screaming back to her old life. Without Allan. So in that sense it would be a new version of her old life.

  Without Osman.

  Which would be much more relaxing and sensible than the last two days with Osman. “I guess we should go to dinner.”

  Once again, they sat in the grand dining room where large filigree lanterns cast multicolored patterns across the walls and ceiling. Conversation at dinner was surprisingly animated. Somehow the sudden and violent deaths had made everyone more aware of how precious their time on earth was and more determined to savor each moment.

  Fragrant grilled meats, spicy rice, lush salads of cucumber and melon filled the table, and although no one seemed to drink alcohol, there were rich fruit nectars, a deliciously tart limeade and the ubiquitous and lovely rose water drink.

  Sam found herself ravenous and didn’t hesitate to enjoy the offered bounty. Osman beamed with pleasure to see her enjoying the local cuisine, and to her surprise she found it rather adorable. As her hunger subsided, she grew increasingly curious about the other two breathtakingly handsome men at the table.

  She turned to Zadir, at her left. “Did you drop everything in your life to come back here as well?”

  Zadir seemed surprised by her bold question. “I’m not sure any of us literally dropped everything. I still own a number of properties around the world that are in various stages of renovation. When the market for each one is right, I’ll sell it, and knowing me I’ll likely buy more even though I plan to live in Ubar.”

  “You’re a property investor?”

  “Yes. I like to buy landmark properties that are feeling their age and make them fit for a king or queen again.”

  Osman leaned forward. “Which makes it ironic that he’s now inherited a tract of land that doesn’t even boast a peasant’s cottage.”

  Zadir grinned. “Yup, a thousand square miles without a single structure on it. For the first time ever, I’ll have to build my house from scratch.”

  “Something traditional?”

  “Not even slightly. Ultramodern and designed for the specific conditions of our desert environment.”

  “Interesting! Do you have an architect in mind?”

  An enigmatic expression crossed his face. “I do. My first challenge is convincing her to come to Ubar.”

  “Her?” Osman lifted a brow. “I’m sure you’ll work your magic on her. You just need to meet with her.”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that.” He tore a piece of flatbread and scooped some chicken from his plate with it. “We were in the plane crash together.”

  Amahd looked up. “You survived an ordeal in the wilderness together and you can’t convince her to design your house?”

  Osman winked at Ahmad. “I suspect he’s already become personally involved with her. And screwed things up.”

  Amahd shook his head. “Your life would go much more smoothly if you kept your focus on matters of business and didn’t get distracted by women.”

  “Amahd can apparently resist all temptation,” said Osman with a smile. “Or at least so he claims.”

  “Why are we talking about me? Samantha was asking about Zadir.” Amahd helped himself to some melon. Sam found the quietest of the three brothers rather intriguing. She suspected there was more to him than met the eye and that when he finally fell for a woman it would be something to behold.

  Shame she wouldn’t be here to witness it. “I can tell you all love Ubar, even after your years away.”

  Zadir gestured with his hands. “How could you not? Our mountains are like the backbone of the world. The sun rises here with a fierce intensity that makes me feel more alive than I have in years. The grandeur of the open plains calls to my soul….”

  “And makes him want to gallop about them on a horse,” said Amahd with a smile. “Me, too.”

  “Do you have Arabian horses here?” Sam had seen some lovely specimens in and around Nabattur. Not that she could tell once horse from another.

  “They’re from Arabian stock but refined for our local conditions to be even sturdier and more sure-footed,” explained Zadir. “Amahd plans to breed some of the finer specimens.”

  “As soon as I get the first stage of oil exploration out of the way.”

  “Is there much oil on your land?” Sam remembered they’d had a well sabotaged, but so far she hadn’t seen any signs of oil drilling.

  “It’s everywhere,” said Amahd with a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. “Our father ignored it. He insisted it would bring nothing but trouble. I plan to help my brothers exploit our resources in a way that will benefit the people and preserve our natural beauty.”

  “Until you told me about the well being set on fire, I had no idea there was oil in this area. I thought the economy was based on…” She couldn’t even remember.

/>   “Textiles. Our carpets and woven silks have been sought after for centuries, and somehow this region has managed to survive on that. But we all agree that it won’t hurt to usher in something more lucrative in the twenty-first century.”

  “I wish you the best of luck in all your endeavors.” Sam meant every word. Ubar couldn’t have more enthusiastic caretakers.

  She felt Osman’s gaze burning a hole right through her. “You’ll witness it with your own eyes.”

  She attempted a fake laugh and glanced at Allan, who’d been munching silently this whole time. He looked up, eyes wide.

  “Hardly, when we’re heading for the airport as soon as the festival ends tomorrow. Did our Land Rover ever get fixed?” She couldn’t believe she’d completely forgotten about it in all the excitement.

  “Yes,” said Allan with enthusiastic vigor, and Osman—simultaneously—in a low growl. Allan continued, “It’s been repaired and I tested it out. I tried to tell you earlier but you were…missing.”

  Sam swallowed. Kissing, rather than missing. “Great.”

  Servants passed around sticky desserts and coffee along with sugared apricots. Osman was very quiet. Allan filled the air with chatter about an experimental film he was planning to shoot next, about the people who rode night buses between Brooklyn and Manhattan. The brothers listened politely, but Sam had a hard time even following the conversation. Because next it would be time for bed.

  With Allan.

  16

  They bid each other good night in the dining room, and Sam and Allan set off for their bedrooms. Sam was surprised that Osman simply nodded—albeit with a smoldering glance—and headed for his room. Where was the commanding man just dying to take over the rest of her life and make her his queen?

  It disturbed her to find that she missed him.

  “I’m glad the car’s fixed.” She tried to sound cheerful.

  “Thank God. I was beginning to wonder if they’d ever let us go. I called the nearest American embassy and let them know our whereabouts.”

  “What?” Sam stopped dead in the hallway.