by Dana Marton
For the foreseeable future, she would stay in Beharrain, help organize foreign aid, spend some time with the Bedu perhaps. Saeed had mentioned bringing his ancestors’ treasure to Tihrin and opening a museum. The thought appealed to her. She could help with that.
There were a hundred ways she could be useful and stay near him. And she wanted that above all, in any capacity he was willing to accept. God, she was pitiful. No, she corrected, she was a woman in love wanting to stay with the man she loved.
Eventually, she would deal with the fact that she could never have him fully. She was strong.
Salah’s words floated back to her from when they had first met. Father will marry for alliance between the tribes. He can’t marry a foreigner. It wouldn’t be any use at all.
She imagined it was even truer now. Kings did not marry for love, probably not even in this day and age.
She looked up at the sound of the door opening and smiled at the sight of Saeed, more bedraggled than she’d ever seen him, and still heartachingly handsome. Even when wet.
“Still raining?”
He nodded, his pleasure with the weather written all over his face. “With a good rain like this, the Bedu herds will have enough grazing for the next two or three years.”
He shed his clothes as he came over, making her pulse speed, making her laugh with joy when he slipped into the water next to her.
He took her hands, kissed her bruised fingertips. “Are you okay?”
She soaked up his undivided attention. “All in a day’s work.” She smiled when he frowned, liking that he felt protective about her. “Unfortunately, as of a couple of hours ago, I’m unemployed.”
He went still, his gaze searched his face. “Are you sure this is what you want to do? I hate seeing you in any kind of danger, but if that’s what makes you happy, I would not ever ask you to give it up.”
You make me happy.
“I’m sure. I think I might stay here for a while.” The country and its people had captured her heart, which ached for the Bedu and their slowly disappearing ways. She felt a kinship toward Saeed’s people that she couldn’t explain. “There’s a lot to do. Maybe I can help.”
The dazzling smile that split his face chased all her insecurities away. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers gently. She moved into the circle of his arms and it felt good and right, pleasure filling her when he deepened the kiss.
She let herself be swept away by the sensation. He was here, with her. That it was temporary didn’t matter, because for this brief moment in time she felt complete, perfectly happy.
He pulled away, looked her in the eye.
“I love you,” he said.
And she could only blink as the question she had carried around for most of her life was finally answered. With sudden clarity, she finally knew where she belonged. She belonged with Saeed, whether they were in the middle of the desert in a rainstorm or in Tihrin or Baltimore. They belonged together.
That’s what she wanted more than anything else in the world and, damn it, she couldn’t have it. Tomorrow he would be king.
She could be his mistress, forever if they both wanted it, a small voice said in her mind. But then something, perhaps the pride of the Lenape rose inside her, and she knew she would not settle. Nor would she give up.
She was no longer a soldier, but she still knew how to fight. And what they could have was worth fighting for. It was worth everything.
“I love you, too.” She dipped her lips back to his and they drank love until they were both drunk with it.
When they finally came up for air again, he lifted her legs to wrap around his waist. And all of a sudden she found it difficult to focus on making her case.
“I have to get back to the palace soon,” he said. “I have to make sure the army is under control and will accept my command.” He nibbled the sensitive skin on her neck. “There will be a ceremony to make everything official. Probably first thing tomorrow. I want to push things along so the country can return to normal as soon as possible.”
She nodded and wondered if her own life would ever return to normal again.
He stopped the wicked things he was doing to her body and looked her straight in the eye. “I have no right to ask this…”
He was going to ask her to be his permanent bodyguard. “Yes,” she said without thinking. It would keep them close and give her a chance to convince him they had something together.
A slow smile spread on his face. His shoulders relaxed. “You’ll be my queen?”
She stared at him, stunned, the air stolen from her lungs. “Queen?” she squeaked.
He narrowed his eyes. “What did you think I was offering?”
“A job?”
“Well, someone told me not so long ago that I was a piece of work.” He smiled again with mischief in his eyes.
“Whoever she was, she must have had amazing insight.” She returned the smile, feeling like she was floating on top of pink clouds.
“Will you marry me?” Banked fire burned in his gaze.
She forgot to breathe.
“I’m hopelessly in love with you,” he said with wonder in his voice. “It might sound strange, but sometimes I look at you and it’s as if I’ve known you for years.”
“Forever,” she said, and he nodded. She knew the feeling well. “I love you, too. And I will marry you.”
He smiled at her, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling with love. He kissed her again, and she let herself get lost in the pleasure of him.
“I worried all afternoon that you would say no,” he said when they pulled apart. “I wasn’t sure I could let you go. It would have looked bad if the first thing I did as king was kidnap a foreign national.”
She laughed, loving the playful tone of his voice, that the dark shadow of stress had finally lifted.
“I thought for sure you would marry for alliance,” she admitted, giddy with relief now that that was cleared up. She kissed the corner of his mouth.
“Maybe the second or third wives. The Koran allows four so I have three more chances to make alliances. Ouch,” he said when she bit his lip.
He pulled back to look her in the eye. “My heart belongs to you, Dara,” he said with all seriousness. “I will never love another.”
She ran her fingers up his chest and couldn’t help flashing him a wicked grin. “Just to be on the safe side, I’m going to make sure you won’t have enough energy for one.” She thoroughly enjoyed watching his eyes darken with passion.
“You will be the one and only for me, forever. I will put it in a marriage contract if you want and seal it with the grand seal of the king. You are my heart, you complete my life. We were meant for each other from the beginning of time.”
His words sneaked around her heart and sent her spirit soaring. She was home, she thought for the first time in her life. This is where she had been heading all along. Home was where you were happy. She was happy here with him.
Epilogue
“I didn’t realize a museum opening could be so exhausting.” Dara closed her eyes for a moment and let Saeed peel off the layers of silk and muslin from her body. She enjoyed her involvement in saving a large part of Bedu history. She enjoyed pretty much everything about her new position, the opportunities it provided her to do good and make a difference.
Her work was not as public as some first ladies’ of the West, but the country was accepting her for who she was. Besides the museum that was a project close to her heart, she had many others, aimed at women and children. Even the religious fanatics tended to overlook that as long as she didn’t involve herself in things they considered strictly men’s territory.
She didn’t mind. There were plenty of Beharrainian children and women who needed her help. Thank God, she wasn’t alone. She’d been pleasantly surprised at how many people had sought her out over the last few months, offering either financial support for her initiatives or volunteering for one of her projects. None with a more impressive tr
ack record than Dr. Abigail DiMatteo-Logan, the tireless mother of the most gorgeous six-month-old Dara had seen. Abigail had started a novel program for war orphans that was beginning to be copied throughout the country.
With time, things would change. Beharrain had a very open-minded ruler. Dara liked that about him.
He caressed her breasts with the hands of an angel as they lay on the bed. She liked that about him, too.
“You’re tired. Why don’t you rest for a while?” He moved away and started to work on his own clothing.
She turned to her side, watching him discard his underwear. Her pulse quickened. “Sleep sounds good,” she said. “In a while.”
He looked into her eyes, his lips curving into a slow smile when he read her desire. “I hoped you would say that.”
He sat next to her on the bed and pulled her onto his lap, gazing into her eyes with a sudden gravity. “Are you sure it doesn’t bother you that after me, Salah will be king, not your sons?”
“Sons? What if we have daughters? The ultra-sound showed only the two heartbeats. It’s too early to tell the sex.”
“You know what I mean,” he said, searching her face.
She hadn’t realized he had been concerned about this. “If we have any boys they’ll be princes. I think I can live with that.”
“But Salah will be crown prince.”
“He is my son, too, you know.”
“Ya noori,” he said. You are my light.
“And you, mine.”
He kissed her then, long and slow, laid her on her back. A lump of something hard pressed against her skull.
“What’s that?” She patted her pillow.
He reached under it, pulled out a small leather sack with a black silk cord, the leather decorated with turquoise beads in a breathtaking floral pattern. It looked familiar.
He dropped it into her hand. “A small gift.”
“Another one?” She peeked inside the bag and caught a glimpse of gold. In a way that was most undignified for a queen, she squealed in delight. “I wondered where that went. When I did the inventory for the museum it was conspicuously missing.”
“So you’ve been looking for it?” His sexy lips stretched into a wide grin. “I’m glad you like it. But to be fair, in the interest of cultural exchange, at one point I think you should show me some Lenape tricks.”
And when he looked at her like that, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that her knowledge of Lenape tricks consisted of running the blackjack table and operating the cash register at the tax-free cigarette shop. She had a strong suspicion that wasn’t what he had in mind.
“For the sake of cultural exchange,” she said and lifted her lips to his.
She had a good idea what kind of tricks he was looking for. And never one to disappoint, she was willing to make up some.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-2848-1
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Copyright © 2005 by Marta Dana
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