Desert Rogues Part 2

by Susan Mallery

  He turned back to her. “The garden in the courtyard pays homage to them both. Some of the plants date back nearly a hundred years.”

  “That’s a very sad story.”

  “It is a lesson. We must pay attention to what matters. The young woman possessed magical powers. She could have restored the young man first. Instead she took what she wanted and as a result, lost him.”

  She shook her head. “I think the lesson is to seize whatever love we can find for as long as we have it.”

  “Perhaps you are right.” He rose. “The hot water should be ready soon. You may shower first.”

  As appealing as a shower sounded, she had other things on her mind. Maybe it was stupid to take another chance on him and lay her heart on the line. Maybe she didn’t have a choice.

  “You don’t have to let me go, Reyhan.”

  He stiffened slightly and didn’t look at her as he spoke. “Yes, I do.”

  “Why? Who is this other woman you plan to marry? What will she give you that I can’t?”

  “Peace of mind.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After her shower, Emma decided to explore the rest of the small palace. Reyhan had settled in the library and after the cryptic end to their breakfast conversation, she wasn’t sure what was left to say between them.

  She had a thousand questions, but what was new about that? She’d had questions from the beginning—such as why had he married her in the first place and why had he stayed married to her? Asking why he had to marry someone else for his peace of mind was way down there on the “questions to ask” priority list.

  She climbed to the second story and explored the amazing rooms. There was a large open area that had to be a ballroom, some kind of living room and four incredibly luxurious bedrooms that would rival the elegance of the famous pink palace in the capital city.

  Even without any knowledge about antiques, she recognized the beauty of the carved furniture and the glittering gold leaf edging the chairs. There were dressers and armoires and four-poster beds with stairs leading to high mattresses. Amazing murals covered the walls. In one bedroom, she found a pumpkin coach and six horses, all made of crystal. In another there was a carved set of toy soldiers.

  On the third floor were more spartan rooms, except for a round room in a tower. Stained-glass windows cast a rainbow of light on the marble floor. The room was completely empty except for a desk with a chest in the middle.

  Curious, she crossed to the desk and opened the chest. When she saw what was inside, her breath caught.

  There were pictures. Dozens of pictures, all of a young woman. In some she was laughing, in others serious. Sometimes she faced the camera, sometimes she hid her face. One had been taken while she slept.

  Emma felt her heart constrict as she recognized a much-younger version of herself. Reyhan had taken these pictures while they’d been dating and then after they’d married.

  Below the pictures were mementos from their dates, all the notes she’d written—and several detective reports. She flipped through them and read his messages to the company he’d hired to check on her for the first few months they’d been separated. He’d obviously wanted to know that she was all right. A few pictures of her had been included with the reports and they were as well-worn as the pages of the report.

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered into the silence. Why had he done this? Why had he kept everything?

  Had he been any other man, she would have thought—hoped—that he cared about her. That she mattered. But he wasn’t. He was Prince Reyhan of Bahania and he didn’t let himself care.

  Or did he? Emma sank onto the floor and studied the detective reports more closely. Reyhan was proud. He would not give his heart easily, nor would he want it toyed with. Had he cared about her and had she not understood the depth of his feelings? He wasn’t the kind of man who would marry on a whim. He’d chosen her—only her. Now he didn’t want a divorce because he loved someone else but so that he could make a marriage of convenience to produce heirs. He didn’t want to fall in love again—was that because he still loved her, or because the first time things had ended so badly?

  She thought about all that had happened so long ago. How she’d hidden away from him, like a child afraid of being punished. How she’d let her parents convince her he didn’t care because it was easier than confessing her guilty secret.

  She claimed to be someone different from that scared young woman, yet was she any more willing to fight for what she wanted? If she loved Reyhan, she needed to tell him. If she wanted a chance at making their marriage work, then she would have to fight for him.

  She tossed down the report and scrambled to her feet. She wasn’t going to wait another second. They belonged together and she was going to help him see that. No matter how long it took.

  She raced down the stairs. Once she reached the main floor, she called out his name as she ran from room to room. She burst into the bedroom he’d been using just as he stepped out of the bathroom.

  He wore nothing but a towel, and both it and the bandage were white against his skin. Her throat closed as she remembered the last time they’d been in this position—how he’d rejected her. Determined not to be swayed by fear of rejection and his pride, she squared her shoulders.

  “We have to talk,” she told him.

  His dark eyes burned with a fire she recognized. Her insides quivered slightly and her thighs trembled.

  “No.”

  The single word didn’t frighten her. He wasn’t going to get his way—not anymore. This was too important to let his pride win. Of course if he really didn’t care about her at all, she was about to experience the most humiliating moment of her life, but she had to be willing to risk it all if she wanted to win it all.

  “I know you want me,” she said, crossing the room to stand directly in front of him.

  “Desire means nothing,” he told her, turning his back on her. “It is simply a reaction.”

  “To all women or just to me?” She walked up behind him and placed her hands on his bare shoulders. “What happens when I touch you, Reyhan? I know what happens to me. My insides melt while my whole body starts to ache with a hunger I can barely control.” She stroked the length of his spine. “My breathing quickens. There is fire everywhere.”

  His skin was smooth, his muscles unyielding. When her fingers reached the edge of the towel, he shuddered.

  “You’re so sleek and strong,” she murmured, then pressed a kiss to his back. “Straight to my curves, hard to my soft. Is it just me?” she asked. “Tell me.”

  He turned on her with a roar that could have been anger or passion or maybe both. He reached for her and hauled her against him, apparently unaware or unconcerned about his bullet wound.

  She was more than willing to ignore it, too, as he kissed her with a need that was even stronger than her own. There were no preliminarily kisses, no soft queries. Instead he took her mouth and claimed her. His lips pressed against hers with a pressure that had her arching against him.

  More, she thought frantically as she clung to him and kissed him back. She wanted it all.

  His tongue swept over and around hers even as he pushed and tugged at her clothing. She wore only a T-shirt and jeans, but they were too much of a barrier when all she had to do was tug at his towel to undress him.

  And then he was naked and she didn’t worry about her own clothing. Not when she could reach her hand between them and touch his arousal.

  As her fingers closed over him, he groaned, then swore and tore his mouth away. “Get these damn clothes off!” he demanded.

  She looked into his eyes and laughed softly. “Impatient, are we?”

  “I’ll die if I don’t have you now.”

  “Good. Because that’s exactly how I feel.”

  She pulled off her T-shirt and kicked off her sandals while he worked on her jeans. Her bra went next, then she pulled down her panties.

  The next second she was falling on
to the bed and Reyhan was on top of her.

  “I want you,” he breathed. “Emma, I need you.”

  Uncontrollable desire tightened his features. She felt his need, because it was her own. She understood his dilemma even as she reached between them and guided him inside of her.

  “You’re not ready,” he protested, trying to hold back.

  She knew she was hot, wet and slick. “Yes, I am.”

  He plunged into her and they both cried out. Within seconds they were lost in a frenzy of sensation and wanting. She pulled him closer, wanting him deeper. He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, before claiming her mouth. She wrapped her legs around him and as her orgasm approached had to break the kiss to gasp for air.

  “Reyhan,” she breathed as her body stiffened before convulsing into release.

  He continued to fill her over and over until the shudders faded. It was only then that he groaned out her name and was still.

  She closed her eyes and let herself relax into his embrace. Her need for him hadn’t faded, only shifted. Now she wanted to be as emotionally connected as they had been physically.

  Reyhan withdrew and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so that she draped across his chest.

  “We should not have done that,” he said as he stroked her hair.

  “Because you’re worried about me getting pregnant,” she said.

  “That is one consideration. Eventually the odds will catch up with us.”

  They already had. Emma felt time shift and bend and suddenly she was eighteen, alone in her room and crying. Pain filled her body, but not from a physical source. Instead she felt the ache of being alone and so lost, she would never find her way back.

  “What?” he asked, continuing to touch her hair. “Where have you gone? I see such sadness in your eyes.”

  She hadn’t been sure she was going to tell him. What was the point? But now, suddenly she wanted him to know. Not to make him feel badly but so that he would understand more.

  “I was pregnant before,” she whispered. “From our honeymoon.”

  She braced herself for his violent reaction. She didn’t expect him to get angry, but she knew there would be energy and demands for information. Perhaps even accusations. But instead he stayed on the bed, his fingers brushing against her scalp, his other hand tucked behind his head.

  “What happened?”

  A simple question, yet it was as if he’d unlocked a hidden door. She felt her heart shudder as the memories escaped and raced to the light of day for the first time in six years.

  “The doctor said it wasn’t uncommon to lose a baby in the first few weeks of pregnancy, especially for a young woman. He said there was probably something wrong with it and that was nature’s way of making things right.” She blinked to hold back tears, but still they spilled over onto her cheeks. “I was so upset when you left that I locked myself in my room at my parents’ house and cried for nearly two weeks. I’ve always wondered if our child couldn’t stand the thought of a mother who was so sad all the time.”

  “So you take responsibility for what happened?”

  She nodded.

  “I see.” He cupped her cheek. “Perhaps our child didn’t want a father who disappeared without word.”

  “You had nothing to do with me losing the baby.”

  “Neither did you.” His dark gaze locked on her face. “So that is why you refused to see me. You were too upset.”

  She nodded. “That’s a part of it. I was ashamed, too. And scared. I thought you’d be so angry with me.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer until she rested on top of him and they could kiss. He brushed his mouth against hers. “Never. With the wisdom of hindsight I know that I shouldn’t have left you behind when my aunt died. I should have brought you with me.”

  “I’m not sure that would have helped. I couldn’t have handled the situation, or you. Not then.”

  One corner of his mouth turned up. “You think you can handle me now?”

  “Yes.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  This was, as her father would say, where the rubber met the road. How willing was she to risk everything and lay it on the line?

  “Because before I didn’t know why you’d married me. I was young and scared and too inexperienced to know how to please a man. Everything is different now.”

  The humor disappeared as if it had never been. He started to sit up. Emma pushed on his shoulders, trying desperately to hold him in place.

  “Reyhan, don’t. We have to talk about it.”

  “There is nothing to say.”

  “I think we could talk for a lifetime and never say all the things we missed by being apart. Reyhan, why didn’t you ever tell me you loved me?”

  He grasped her by the waist and slid her aside, then sat up. That simple action warned her he was already slipping away.

  “Why is it such a horrible thing to admit?” she asked desperately. “Is it because I was so immature? I know I couldn’t be a partner for you then, but things are different now. We’re both different. You loved me then. Couldn’t you care a little for me now?”

  He didn’t speak, didn’t move. She wasn’t sure he was even breathing.

  Frightened, and not sure how to convince him, mostly because she didn’t understand what she was fighting against, she tried to speak from the heart.

  “I don’t know what I felt back then. I was a kid. I keep saying that but it’s true. I had a fantasy about love and marriage and what my husband would be like. You rescued me that very first day and I’m not sure I saw you as a real person. You were more like a superhero or something. But now I can see the man and he’s a good and honorable person.”

  She leaned against Reyhan’s back and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

  “You’re proud and sometimes that’s annoying, but I can live with it,” she continued. “I want to stay here with you. I want us to stay married, to love each other and have babies together.” She swallowed before confessing her most intimate secret. “I’m in love with you.”

  Reyhan felt each word. They cut him like knives. When he’d been shot the day before, he’d barely felt the pain, but now, with Emma, he was ripped apart.

  Love. She spoke the words he would have sold his soul to hear. Words that would drive him to his knees with gratitude. But then what? Who would he be if he gave in to his love and desire for this woman? How could he be strong? How could he be a man if he was controlled by a woman?

  “No!” he roared, and sprang to his feet. “Do not love me. I will not love you in return. Not again. I will not be crushed by the needing and wanting. I will not have you fill my head and consume the very breath from my body. I will not be made weak by all that I feel for you.”

  He glared at her, but she didn’t flinch. Instead she met his angry gaze with a look so filled with love that he could have captured the emotion in his hand and trapped it in a box.

  “It doesn’t have to be like that,” she said as she stood naked in front of him. Her long hair spread across her shoulders and teased the top of her breasts. “We can support each other, gaining strength from what the other gives. A team is better than a single man. I want to make you happy, Reyhan. I want to be the one person in the world you can trust with everything and I want to trust you the same way.”

  He knew what she asked, what she wanted. He knew the truth—it was better to be safe and alone. Better to walk away.

  He started to do just that, but before he did so, he allowed himself one last look at her. He took in her beautiful face, the slight tilt of her eyes and the fullness of her mouth. He memorized the sound of her laugh and how she scowled when she was angry. He pictured her hair up, as she’d worn it to the formal reception at the palace.

  His gaze dropped lower to her full breasts, the tight nipples that called to him like a siren. Wanting stirred, but he ignored it. Next he studied her narrow waist and the fullness of her hips. He felt badly about the c
hild they’d lost, about the pain she’d suffered alone. Had she been recovering when he’d first tried to see her? Her father had said she was ill. Reyhan had assumed the old man was lying, but perhaps not.

  They hadn’t used birth control. Why hadn’t he considered the possibility of her having his child?

  A son, he thought with regret. Or a pretty little girl of five who ran through the halls of the palace and wrapped him around her finger as much as he would wrap her around his heart.

  Standing there naked, with sunlight filling the room, Reyhan felt the weight of all he’d lost when he’d abandoned Emma, and the weight of it made it impossible for him to stand. He sank to his knees.

  She was at his side in an instant.

  “Don’t let me go,” she pleaded. “We’ve been given a second chance. Can’t you see how rare and precious that is?”

  He clung to her because she was as she had always been—his lifeline. He had tried to live without her. He had convinced himself a cold gray world was a safe place to be, but it was not living. It was an existence that offended those brave enough to reach for what they wanted.

  “I am a man humbled by a woman,” he said, taking her face in his hands and kissing her.

  “I am the one who is humbled,” she breathed as she kissed him over and over again. “I love you, Reyhan. For always.”

  “And I love you. From the first moment I saw you.”

  He drew her into his arms then carried her to the bed where he settled both of them on the tangled sheets.

  “Stay with me,” he pleaded. “Love me. Have my children, work at my side, fill my nights and my heart.”

  Tears spilled out of the corners of her eyes. “Yes. For always.”