Desert Rogues Part 2

by Susan Mallery

  Emma rose. Her toes curled in the plush carpet that was thick enough to serve as a mattress in a pinch.

  The bedroom had been decorated in pale yellows and blues. Ornate, carved dark wood furniture made up the elaborate headboard, footboard and matching nightstands. An armoire stood across the room. When she crossed to it she found a large television inside, along with a DVD player and a wide assortment of movies. There was also a detailed listing of the various channels available via satellite.

  “Amazing,” she murmured as she touched the carved birds and flowers on the door.

  The bedroom itself was about the size of the average three-bedroom house back home in Dallas. She remembered the living room had been equally huge. With two parts anticipation and one part trepidation, she walked into the bathroom.

  Huge didn’t begin to describe it. Her entire apartment could have fit inside, with room to spare. The long marble vanity was about twice the length of her main kitchen counter. The tub had whirlpool jets and could have served as a playground for an entire water park full of seals. There was a glass-enclosed shower, towels as big as bedsheets and every toiletry known to womankind.

  Emma turned in a slow circle and tried to imagine what it would be like to live somewhere like this permanently. Was it possible to get used to this level of luxury, and would the palace continue to be a delight?

  Twenty minutes later she’d showered and washed her face. After dressing, applying mascara and some lip gloss, she returned to the bedroom and put away the rest of her clothes. With that done, there was little to do but explore the rest of the suite and try to figure out what she was going to say when she next saw Reyhan.

  In the light of day she knew that there was more to their relationship than her parents had told her six years ago when she’d returned home brokenhearted. But what exactly?

  She left the bedroom and walked into the living room of the suite. The shutters were open and pulled back. The view was so amazing—blue ocean, bright sky, the tops of several trees—that she hadn’t noticed Reyhan. But when she turned, she saw him seated at the dining room table in the corner. He studied the newspaper in front of him and hadn’t seen her, either.

  Her first thought was to bolt for the safety of her bedroom, but before she could get her feet to move, she found herself mesmerized by the man himself.

  He was so handsome, she thought, remembering how his dark good looks had stunned her the first time they’d met. His hair was cropped short, in a stylish cut. Strong cheekbones emphasized the leanness of his features. His eyebrows were pulled together, giving him a stern expression. He looked intense and dangerous, something she remembered from their past together. Being around him had always left her tongue-tied and feeling more than a little foolish. That sensation returned big-time.

  She winced as she recalled accusing him of marrying her to get a green card. He was a member of the Bahanian royal family. No doubt he could come or go at will just about anywhere in the world. As for wanting her in his bed…she had her doubts. The experience had been a disaster and after those first couple of nights, Reyhan had never come looking for her again.

  “How long are you going to stand there?” he asked without looking up from his paper. “I have ordered you breakfast, Emma. You didn’t eat before or after you arrived at the palace. I don’t want you making yourself ill.”

  He set down the paper and looked at her. His dark gaze seemed to see all the way inside to her quivering heart. He raised one eyebrow.

  “Are you so afraid of me? I swear that I have never attacked before ten or eleven in the morning. It is not civilized.”

  She glanced at the antique grandfather clock by the entryway. “So I’m safe for another ninety minutes?”

  “At least.”

  He rose and pulled out a chair. Not knowing what else to do, she settled in it then watched as he lifted the tops off several serving dishes on the sideboard.

  “What would you like?” he asked.

  She blinked at him. “You’re going to serve me?”

  “You are my guest. In the interest of privacy I sent the maid away, so there is just the two of us this morning.”

  The implication being she was his responsibility? Reyhan had always had the most amazing manners. Apparently that hadn’t changed.

  She stood and crossed to the sideboard where she studied the assortment of offerings. There were eggs and bacon, fresh fruit, croissants, Danish and a selection of cereals, both hot and cold.

  “I can’t eat all this,” she told him.

  “I’ll help.” He motioned to the plates stacked on the left. “Please begin.”

  She reached for the plate. As she leaned forward, Reyhan moved and her hand grazed his arm. The instant heat nearly made her stumble. Awareness rippled along her skin like a sudden cool breeze, making her shiver and break out in goose bumps. She found herself wanting to touch him again, wanting to move closer, to have him touch her. Erotic images sprang into her mind, and before she knew what was happening, she realized it was difficult for her to catch her breath.

  All of this happened in a matter of seconds. Then she became aware of herself, of Reyhan’s expression of polite interest and she quickly stepped back and turned toward the food.

  This was not good, she thought frantically. Not good at all. She didn’t like how her heart raced whenever he was nearby. That hadn’t happened before. If anything, he’d terrified her as much as he’d intrigued her. Not that she was any less terrified, it was just now she was frightened for a different reason.

  She scooped fresh fruit onto her plate, along with some eggs. After taking a biscuit and butter, she returned to the table and poured them each coffee. Reyhan waited until she was seated before claiming his chair.

  “You slept well?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Dr. Johnson said that your fainting was not likely to reoccur. He decided it was the combination of lack of food and sleep, along with minor dehydration and the shock of seeing me again.” Reyhan’s steady gaze never left her face. “Had I known you would react so strongly, I would have given you some warning. Stunning you into fainting wasn’t my goal.”

  “Imagine what you could do if it was,” she said lightly.

  She noticed his single raised eyebrow again, but Emma refused to be intimidated, despite the instinct to cringe and apologize. She turned her attention to her breakfast instead and plunged her fork into a piece of mango. Sexual awareness swirled through the room like an erotic mist, but she was determined to ignore it.

  Maybe she always had reacted so strongly to Reyhan but wasn’t aware of it, she thought wryly. Maybe when they’d first met there had been this same powerful physical attraction between them but she’d been too young and innocent to recognize it. All she’d known back then was that she loved him and feared him with equal intensity. It was amazing she’d managed to find the strength to leave him.

  Then she reminded herself that she hadn’t left him. He’d left her and she’d hid out at her parents’ home. Any additional contact had been through them. She hadn’t even had the courage to tell him she didn’t want to see him again. Not that he’d tried very hard.

  “Why the heavy sigh?” he asked.

  She looked up. “Did I sigh? I didn’t mean to.”

  “You were thinking of the past.”

  “It’s a logical place to go.”

  He nodded. “We will speak of it.”

  A statement or a command? “And if I don’t want to?”

  The words were out before she could stop them.

  His mouth curved up in amusement. “You defy me?”

  “Will that get me fifty lashes or time in the tower?”

  “Nothing so boring.” He sipped his coffee. “Why do you not wish to talk about our situation?”

  “I do.” She shrugged. “Knee-jerk reaction, I guess. My parents were always so protective. They meant well—they still do. My independence is hard-won and I get my back up when someone
gives me orders.”

  “I see.”

  She had no idea what the silken words meant, nor did she want to ask for an explanation. She doubted whatever contact Reyhan had had with her parents had been especially pleasant.

  “You’re right,” she said. “We need to talk about what happened and what’s going to happen.”

  He nodded slightly. “If you wish.”

  “You’re mocking me.”

  “I am terrified by your steely will.”

  Emma doubted anything terrified Reyhan. Which meant he was teasing her. Interesting. She wouldn’t have thought royal princes had senses of humor.

  “Do you believe our marriage was real?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to, but, yes. You have no reason to lie, and my presence here is more than enough proof.” She shifted in her seat. She’d been married for six years and hadn’t known. Talk about being a fool.

  “Why did you marry me?” she asked him, knowing it hadn’t been for any of the usual reasons. At the time she’d thought Reyhan had loved her, but his behavior proved otherwise.

  He chewed and swallowed. “You were a virgin,” he said calmly. “I would not have defiled you.”

  Ten simple words that made her drop her fork, push back her chair and spring to her feet.

  “What?” she demanded. “You married me to sleep with me? The whole thing was about sex?”

  If love was out of the question, shouldn’t he have at least liked her? Shouldn’t he have pretended to care?

  “Sit down, Emma. You’re overreacting.”

  She took her seat before she remembered she wasn’t going to let anyone run her life ever again. Once seated, it seemed silly to stand up and make a fuss. She settled on glaring at him.

  Reyhan looked at her. “Why are you so outraged? Do you think there are any men who marry without the thought of their wives being a sexual partner?”

  “Most men think about more than just doing it.”

  That made him get stiff and stern. His gaze narrowed. “I am Prince Reyhan of Bahania. When I married you, I not only gave you my name and protection, but honored you by making you a princess of my country. Had you been willing to continue our relationship, I would have brought you here where you would have lived in this palace. Neither you nor our children would have wanted for anything. I would have been faithful to you until I breathed my last breath. Who and what you are would have been passed along to our children, and through that, you would have joined in the history of my people. I believe that would be defined as more than just doing it.”

  “But you never told me any of this,” she reminded him, feeling more than a little embarrassed. “Nor did you ask me if this is what I wanted with my life. What about my plans? My dreams? Marrying you could have changed my world forever.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?”

  She thought of her small apartment and her quiet life. She remembered her conversation with Cleo the previous night and what she’d said about the palace and the princes.

  “You didn’t give me a choice,” she said. “Not about staying or going. You married me without telling me the truth, then you disappeared without a word.”

  Reyhan leaned back in his chair. “Our recollection of the events that happened are very different, but that is of no consequence. What matters is our present circumstances. We are married—something neither of us wishes to continue. The king’s permission is required for a prince to divorce, and he has insisted you spend two weeks here until he will grant the decree.”

  Countless years of having her life run by her parents had made Emma hypersensitive to being told what to do. Her first instinct was to tell Reyhan that maybe she didn’t want a divorce, thank you very much. Maybe she wanted to stay married.

  She stopped herself before she could blurt out the irrational statement. She didn’t know the man. She didn’t want anything to do with him. Of course she wanted to go get a divorce and go back to her life.

  “You didn’t need his permission to get married, but you need it for a divorce,” she said. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “I did need his permission to marry. I defied him.”

  Simple words, she thought, but stunning. He’d defied the king? To marry her? Which brought her back to her original question—why?

  For sex? He was a handsome, wealthy, royal guy. Couldn’t he get any woman he wanted? So why her?

  She had a feeling that the earth would stop turning before she found out the answer to that one, so she chose another topic of conversation.

  “So after the divorce you’ll marry someone else.” A thought occurred to her. “Have you already chosen your new bride?” Cleo had said he wasn’t engaged, but was he already in love?

  Reyhan shook his head. “My marriage will be arranged.”

  Emma blinked at him. “You mean she’ll be picked by someone else? What if you don’t like her?”

  He shrugged. “That is of little consequence.”

  It felt like a really big consequence to her.

  “But she could make you crazy.”

  “Then we will have little contact. My duty is to produce heirs for the kingdom. I will not turn my back on my responsibility.”

  He had a duty? But where had all that duty been when he’d married her? And why would he agree to a wife he might not even like?

  “Do you get to spend time with the potential brides in advance? Like The Bachelor for royalty?”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  He rose, cutting her off. “I have a meeting,” he said politely. “Please think of your time here in Bahania as a vacation. In two weeks you can return to Texas as if nothing ever happened. In the meantime, if you need anything, please ask one of the servants. You are an honored guest of the king.”

  With that he nodded and left.

  Emma stared after him. She might be going home, but she doubted she would ever forget what had happened here. In a matter of hours, her world had turned upside down.

  She rose and crossed to the French doors that led to a beautiful balcony. When she stepped outside, she saw the balcony stretched the length of the palace, perhaps even circling around it. A nice place to take a walk, she thought as she moved to the carved railing and leaned down to inspect the wonderful gardens below.

  Stone paths meandered through what looked like a formal English garden. A fountain gurgled, while birds sang from nearby trees.

  Hardly what she’d expected for a desert nation, she thought, then remembered the desalinization plant Alex had pointed out on their drive from the airport. Bahania created much of the fresh water her people used. Interesting, but hardly what was on her mind.

  She turned her attention from the garden to her left hand. Reyhan had placed a simple gold band there after the ceremony. He’d kissed her and promised to replace it with any ring she would like. At the time she’d thought he’d been caught up in the romance of the moment, making promises he could never keep. Now she knew he’d been telling the truth.

  But why hadn’t he told her the rest of it? About him being the prince and that he’d always planned to return there? And why hadn’t her parents been able to find out that she was really married? Who had told them the ceremony had been a sham and why hadn’t they questioned the information?

  Would it have made a difference? After the fact, she could say yes. But at the time? She’d been hurt and afraid and not that interested in being Reyhan’s wife. Their few days together as husband and wife had been spent in bed. He had wanted her with a passion that had terrified and confused her. While she hadn’t minded him touching her, she hadn’t much liked it, either. He’d been too intense, too hungry, too everything.

  Now the thought of those dark eyes gazing at her with unmistakable desire made her breathing quicken. Which so did not make sense. She had no reason to be attracted to Reyhan. She barely knew him. She wasn’t even sure she liked him. So why was she anticipating the next time she saw him?

  Reyhan walked
from the residential wing of the palace toward the business wing, moving quickly but with his thoughts still outpacing his steps.

  There wasn’t a part of him that was not on fire with desire for Emma. He needed her as he needed the wide spaces of the desert. She was as much a part of him, and yet as out of reach as the stars.

  If only he’d been able to keep her from coming to Bahania. But his father had insisted on meeting the woman Reyhan had married and then left behind. Royal pronouncements could only be avoided for so long, and in the end he had run out of excuses. So Emma was here—haunting him. He wanted her with a grim desperation that threatened his world, and he could not have her. Not before and not now. She was, he acknowledged, the one woman on earth who could bring him to his knees. Him—a prince. A man of power and action. If she knew how he really felt…

  He reminded himself she did not know, nor would she be affected if she did. She’d made her feelings clear six years ago and there was no reason to think they would have changed.

  Only twelve more days, he told himself. He could survive that, especially if he avoided her.

  He reached the business wing and asked his assistant to come into his office. When the young man was seated, Reyhan pulled out his schedule. He was about to find himself very, very busy.

  Emma restlessly wandered around the suite. She might be an honored guest of the king, but she wasn’t sure what that meant in terms of what she could and could not do. Were there self-guided tours of the palace? The maid had disappeared and she didn’t know who else to ask. The last thing she wanted was to wander into some forbidden room and find herself at the wrong end of a pointy sword.

  She stared at the phone and wondered what would happen if she picked it up. Did the palace have an operator? In movies, the White House always did, and the palace was at least twice as big. Wasn’t an operator required?

  A knock on the suite’s main door saved her from finding out. For a split second, her heart fluttered in anticipation. Reyhan? Had his meeting ended early and had he decided to return to speak with her? Had…