by The Sheikh
He urged her toward his father, who had put down the cat and risen.
“Father, this is Princess Emma, my wife. Emma, this is King Hassan of Bahania.”
He felt her stiffen at “Princess” and wondered if she’d considered her position here. As long as they were married, she was a member of the royal family.
Bahania was a long way from her life in Texas.
“Enchanted,” the older man said as he took her free hand and lightly kissed the back of it. “Would you like something to drink? Champagne? We should toast the moment.”
“No. I—I’m fine.”
The king drew her from Reyhan and settled her on the sofa, next to the sleeping Siamese. He took the opposite side of the couch, leaving Reyhan the chair.
Not difficult duty, Reyhan thought as he sat. Emma was in his direct line of vision. He could visually trace her profile, the line of her neck, the length of her bare arms. And while looking at her, he could remember their few nights together. How she’d felt when he’d touched her. How she’d tasted when he’d kissed her. The tight dampness of her virgin body when he’d first claimed her as his own.
The images had an expected result, and he was forced to shift slightly in his chair. Stop, he ordered himself. Thinking about what had been once and never would be again offered torment but little else.
“Tell me about yourself,” the king said. “You are from Texas?”
Emma nodded. “The Dallas area. I’ve lived there nearly all my life. Except when I was at college.”
“Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“No. My parents had actually given up on ever having children when I came along.” She smiled. “I was a surprise.”
The sweet pull of her lips hit Reyhan like a punch in the gut. He consciously relaxed his muscles and sucked in a breath. Soon she would be gone and then he could forget she had ever lived, he told himself.
“A happy one,” his father said.
Emma laughed. “You’re right. My parents have made it very clear how much they adore me.” Her humor faded slightly. “They are extremely protective.”
“As they should be. A daughter such as yourself is a rare treasure.”
“Thank you,” she murmured as she bowed her head.
Reyhan caught the light flush on her cheek. So she still blushed. When he had first met her it seemed that everything he did caused her to blush. A compliment, a kiss, a whisper of desire. She had been the most innocent woman he’d ever met.
“Treasure or not, they made it difficult to have a life,” she said. “Not that I don’t love them dearly. But there were things I wanted to do.” Her voice had turned wistful. “They were very strict about things like school dances and dating.”
His father raised his eyebrows. Reyhan stepped into the conversation.
“Many Western high schools offer chaperoned dances for the students,” he said.
“A dangerous practice,” the king said. “Now you know why I sent you to England for much of your education.”
“An all-boys school,” Reyhan said dryly. “It was thrilling.”
Emma glanced at him and smiled. For that second, there was a connection between them. He could nearly see the sparks arcing across the room and feel the temperature increasing.
“Where did you meet my son?” the king asked, breaking the spell.
Emma returned her attention to the monarch. “At college. It was my first year there. I’d had to beg my parents to let me go. I was very excited, but scared, too.”
“And did he sweep you off your feet?”
She swallowed, blushed, then nodded. “Yes. He was very charming. Very…worldly.”
Reyhan thought of the young man he’d been at twenty-four. Hardly worldly, except in Emma’s inexperienced view. He’d wanted her and he’d pursued her with a single-minded focus that had left her nowhere to escape. He’d been determined to have her, and, upon discovering she was a virgin, he’d married her.
“Yours was a brief courtship,” the king said.
Emma glanced at Reyhan. “I…we…”
“She knew nothing of who I was,” Reyhan said, interrupting her hesitation. “I alone defied you, Father. The blame, the responsibility, is mine.”
Emma’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything. The king nodded.
“You stayed together only a short time.” The king’s words were more statement than question.
“You know this,” Reyhan said as he stepped in again. “I was called home because of Sheza’s death.” He glanced at Emma. “My aunt.”
“But you did not return to your wife.”
He had tried, Reyhan thought bitterly. He had called and attempted to see her, but she refused to have anything to do with him. Eventually her father had ordered him to stay away. No explanation save that Emma regretted the marriage and never wanted to see him again.
He’d told himself the sting he’d felt was little more than wounded pride. That he hadn’t actually cared about her. Loved her.
He shrugged with a casualness he didn’t feel. “The past is finished. What value is there in discussing it now?”
“I wish to know,” his father said. He looked at Emma. “So after things did not
work out with Reyhan, you returned to your parents?”
Reyhan didn’t save her from that probing question mostly because he wanted to hear her answer.
“I, ah, stayed with them until the new semester started, then I returned to college. By then, Reyhan was gone.”
True enough. Once he’d realized he’d lost her, he’d finished the requirements for his master’s and had gone back to Bahania. He’d never tried to see Emma again.
“And what do you do now?” the king asked. “How do you spend your days?”
Emma looked confused, as if she expected them to already know this. “I’m a delivery room nurse. I received my RN and went to work in a Dallas hospital.”
She shifted in her seat and smiled. “It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. My parents really hated the idea of me living on my own, but I knew it was time. I have a good job. I can support myself.”
Reyhan stiffened. “You what?”
His father glared at him. “You abandoned your responsibility?”
“I did not.” He turned to Emma. He wasn’t surprised that she worked. Many women preferred to fill their day with a job, especially when there weren’t small children to tend to. But that she acted as if she needed the money. “You do not need to work to support yourself.”
She stared at him. “Excuse me? How would you know what I need and don’t need?”
“I left you financially provided for.”
Emma leaned back in the sofa, trying to put a little distance between herself and an obviously furious Reyhan. She wouldn’t mind his temper so much if she knew what he was so mad about. Nothing made sense. He hadn’t left her a dime.
“You didn’t do anything when you left,” she said, then winced when he seemed to puff up and get even madder.
“After we were married, I opened a checking account for your personal use. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars were put in a checking account. When the balance reached below a hundred thousand, the account was to be replenished.”
Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars? He’d left her money?
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
“What is complicated about the information?”
Good point, she thought. But her head was spinning and nothing made sense. “Why would you take care of me?”
Wrong question, she thought as he stiffened even more.
“I am Prince Reyhan of Bahania and you are my wife. You are my responsibility.
When you did not use the money, I assumed it was out of pride and anger. I sent a letter requesting you reconsider, and then funds were withdrawn, as they have been ever since.”
Now it was her turn to get all huffy. “Wait a minute. I didn’t know about any money and I sure didn’t spend it.”
“You knew. When you refused to see me, I spoke with your father. I gave him the account information.”
Her father? “You came to see me?”
“Of course.”
No. That’s not how it happened. Emma distinctly remembered being curled up on her bed back in her parents’ house, praying for Reyhan to contact her. But he never had. Not a note, not a phone call and certainly not a visit.
Unless he’d shown up while she’d been…ill.
“I was sick for a while,” she said, telling herself it wasn’t exactly a lie.
There’d been a sickness of spirit.
“I came by several times, in fact.”
Had he? Was it possible her parents had kept the information from her?
She thought they might not have wanted to tell her that Reyhan had been by to see her, but they never would have kept information about that kind of money from her. They loved her. They were devoted to her.
“I don’t believe you,” she said. “Not about the money. If I don’t know about it, who withdrew funds? Not my parents. They would never do that. This doesn’t make sense. You disappeared from my life for six years, only to drag me over here and tell me you want a divorce. Why should I believe anything you say?”
“Because I do not lie.”
She glanced at the king, but he seemed more amused than upset by the argument.
Which was fine. She was upset enough for two people. She turned back to Reyhan.
“Liar or not, you’ve insulted my parents and for no good reason. I don’t know what this game is, but I’m done playing it.”
She stood and walked out of the room.
After fifty feet down the hall she had the unsettling thought that it was probably considered a very bad thing to walk out on the king of Bahania. She paused, not sure if she should go back and apologize, or keep going. Before she could decide, she heard footsteps, then Reyhan rounded the corner and stopped in front of her.
He was obviously furious—tight-lipped and hard-eyed. Without speaking, he took her by the arm and led her away. She didn’t recognize the twists and turns they took, even when they ended up in front of her suite. Reyhan opened the door and hustled her inside.
When he released her, she had the strangest urge not to move away. For a split second she thought about throwing herself into his arms and begging him to hold her. As if his embrace would make things right.
Not in this universe, she thought, taking a step back and bracing herself for whatever he had to say.
His gaze narrowed. “Why do you question what I tell you?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because there is proof of everything. For weeks I kept vigil outside of your parents’ home. I called or came by every day. I returned to claim you as my wife only to be told you refused to see me. I left when I received your letter.”
Emma didn’t understand any of this. “What letter?”
“The one you wrote telling me you regretted meeting me and everything about our marriage and that you only wanted me to disappear.”
He spoke stiffly, as if the words were difficult to say.
“That’s crazy,” she told him. “I never wrote that.”
She hadn’t thought it, either. Not at the time. She’d longed to see Reyhan, but he’d abandoned her.
“You used me,” she continued. “I don’t know why, but you got it in your head you
wanted to sleep with me, so you pretended to care about me.” She couldn’t say the word love, not even now. “You took advantage of me for a long weekend, then took off. No explanation, nothing.”
It took a lot to get her angry, but once she was on a roll, she liked to keep going. She remembered the pain and humiliation of being tossed aside like a broken toy.
“You promised me things,” she said, her voice rising. “You talked about our life together and I believed you. I trusted you and you just took what you wanted and walked away.”
“I left because a beloved aunt died.”
“Did the funeral take six weeks to prepare? Did you ever once call me? Did you think to tell me what was going on?”
He frowned. “Of course. I phoned nearly every day.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, right. And I just happened to be out.”
“That is what I was told.”
She turned her back on him and walked to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. None of this mattered, she told herself, trying to cool her temper. Soon it would be behind her. She had to remember the big picture.
Reyhan spoke into the silence. “If you think so little of men, you must be pleased to be rid of me. Just a few more days and the marriage will be over. As if it had never existed.”
Fury surged. “Right. Because you can dismiss what happened. Because it didn’t matter.” She spun back to face it. “It mattered to me. Do you have any idea how innocent I was? I’d barely kissed one boy in high school. And then there was you. You didn’t just seduce me, Reyhan, you took what you wanted, without regard for my feelings. I’ll never forgive that.”
His expression turned menacing. “You were more than willing.”
“I was terrified. Now I’d know better. Now I’d tell you no.”
“Are you saying I had you against your will?”
He hadn’t, not exactly, but she was mad. “Yes.”
“You were a child, only interested in chaste kisses and expensive presents. A child who couldn’t please a man.”
That hurt. She tried not to remember how embarrassed she’d been, how awkward and unsure.
“You were a man who couldn’t be bothered with seducing his bride. Instead you just took.”
They were both enraged, breathing hard and glaring at each other. A part of her was terrified, but she refused to back down. Not even when he moved closer still. Not even when he reached behind her and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up against him.
“If that is who I am,” he said with frighteningly soft menace, “a liar and a defiler of women, then there is no point in holding back now.”
He kissed her. Not the soft kiss of seduction or coaxing, but a kiss of power.
He was a man with something to prove. His firm lips pressed hard against her own, claiming her with passion.
She wanted to protest, to scream, to pull back, but she could not. They touched everywhere. Her body pressed against his, their legs tangled. She put up her hands to push him away, but when her palms brushed against the hard planes of his suit-covered chest, she found herself unable to protest…or even breathe.
Fire consumed her. Hot and hungry, it swept through her, melting her resolve, her reason. Against her will, she found herself moving her hands from his chest to his shoulders. She clung to him because letting go would mean collapsing at his feet. Worse, she kissed him back.
She couldn’t explain it, and given the choice, she would probably deny it, but there it was. A need that grew. Wanting was alive inside of her. In that moment, with his mouth against hers and his hands moving from the back of her head to her shoulders, then to her hips, she couldn’t get close enough.
Emma wanted to surrender, to crawl inside of him. When his kiss gentled and he stroked her lower lip with his tongue, she parted for him and anticipated his more intimate kiss.
At the first stroke of his tongue against her own it was all she could do not to scream. At the second, she ceased to have a will of her own. And with the third, she clamped her lips around him, greedily holding him in place, wanting him to kiss her forever.
She ached. Her breasts, between her legs, all over. Her skin felt hot and too tight. She wanted to strip her dress off and have him touch her everywhere. She wanted to be naked, vulnerable, offering herself to him.
She rubbed one hand against the back of his neck. He held on to her hips and then dropped his hands to her rear where he squeezed the curves. She surged against him, wanting to rub like a lonely cat. But before she could put her plan into action he broke the kiss and stepped away.
<
br /> They stared at each other. Loud breathing filled the silence. Emma was pleased to note that Reyhan looked as swept away by passion as she felt.
Perhaps they should call a truce, she thought. Start over as friends. Friends who could bring about the end of the world with just a kiss.
“You have learned much in my absence,” Reyhan said, his cold voice contrasting with the fire in his eyes. “Before you accuse me of more sins, you should look at yourself. A wife who takes lovers. Isn’t there a name for that?”
Her mouth dropped open, but before she could snap back at him, he was gone.
Emma glared at the shut door and yelped in anger and frustration.
“That is not fair!” she yelled into the empty room. “I didn’t know we were married and you know it.”
Besides, there hadn’t been any other men. Not seriously. And she’d never allowed any of them into her bed. If she kissed better now, it was because she was older, and because kissing Reyhan had made her feel things she’d never felt before. Not even with him.
Emma slowed her breathing and tried to calm down. She was shaking and not just because she was mad. She was shaking in reaction to what had happened when Reyhan had kissed her. She’d wanted him. Funny how she’d started to worry that there was something wrong with her because none of the guys she went out with had made her want to get naked and do the wild thing. Just her luck that the first one to push all her buttons was an arrogant prince who just happened to be a man trying to get her out of his life as quickly as possible.
“I don’t think I can handle any more,” she said quietly as she stepped out onto the balcony. “By the time I get home, I’m going to need a serious vacation.”
She crossed to the railing and glanced down into the beautiful gardens. The peaceful setting began to ease her tension and she felt herself relaxing. After a time, she heard voices and searched until she found a couple walking into the gardens.
Even from two stories above, she recognized Cleo. The tall, handsome man at her side must be her husband. Emma couldn’t make out the words, but she heard the affection in their voices. Sadik turned to his wife and held out his arms. Cleo willingly stepped into his embrace and they kissed.
