The Desert Rogues Part 1

by Susan Mallery

  But there he was, holding her close. She couldn’t see much of his face, but his right eye appeared to be closed. She closed hers again and concentrated on the feel of his lips against hers.

  He was warm and soft in a kind of firm way. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact she felt a distinct increase in the heat between them.

  He cupped the back of her head. His fingers were strong, yet gentle. The arm around her waist held her firmly, but she didn’t feel trapped. Mostly, the kiss was very nice. She liked how he moved back and forth, as if he had to learn all about her mouth. Maybe she should put her hands on his shoulders or something.

  “Relax,” he murmured.

  “I am relaxed.”

  “No. Your mouth is puckered.”

  She concentrated and realized her lips were pursed together, like a child waiting for a kiss from a parent. This time the heat didn’t just flare on her face. It raced through her body and made her want to bolt for safety.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he told her, tightening his grip on her waist. “Just think about saying my name.”

  She was about to protest that this couldn’t all be about him, when his lips returned to hers. This time she tried to focus on relaxing. Mentally, she said his name over and over until her mouth formed the word. As she did so, something warm and damp and very exciting brushed across her lower lip.

  A shiver rippled through her. It started at the top of her head and worked its way down to her toes. In its wake, it left a very distinct kind of trembly weakness. Her breasts felt funny and there was heat between her thighs. Was this passion? Was this—

  He swept her lower lip again, then moved his tongue into her mouth. The combination of heat, pleasure and excitement caught her completely off guard. She didn’t remember raising her hands, but suddenly her fingers were pressing against his shoulders. She wanted to be closer to him. She wanted the hot jolts of fire to never stop zinging through her. She surged forward, circling her tongue around his, all the while wondering why no one had ever told her kissing was like this.

  Over and over they touched and moved and danced in a way that left her breathless. His hands stayed still on her back, even though she wished he would rub them up and down her body. She wanted more of what it was they were doing. She wanted—

  Jamal broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. “See,” he said, his breathing a little heavier than it had been a couple of minutes before. “Not so horrible.”

  She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “I suppose not. It was a very nice kiss.”

  “Thank you for your kind words.”

  His voice sounded funny. “I meant that most sincerely,” she assured him. “Really.”

  He straightened. “I believe you.”

  His gaze was dark and intense. Heidi fought against the awkwardness flooding her, but she was as inexperienced with the post-kissing moment as she had been with the actual kissing itself. Given a choice, she preferred the kissing.

  “Did you want to do that again?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

  Jamal took a step back. “I think we’ve both had about all we can handle for one night.” He glanced around the garden. “It’s probably safe for you to escape to your suite now.”

  At first his words didn’t make any sense. Then she remembered the dinner and how the king and Fatima wanted her to marry Jamal. Somehow the prospect wasn’t quite so daunting.

  She gave him a shy smile. “I guess I should go back to my room, then.”

  He nodded, which disappointed her greatly. Didn’t he want to kiss her again? Hadn’t he liked it?

  Heidi drew in a deep breath. She didn’t know enough to be able to answer her own question, and she wasn’t brave enough to ask him. Which meant she was left in the dark. Oh joy. So she whispered a quick good-night and left the garden.

  Nothing about the evening had turned out the way she’d thought, although that wasn’t all bad. Jamal had been…very special, she thought with a sigh. He was funny, charming and a great kisser, although her frame of reference on the latter was limited to a sample of one.

  On the walk back to her room, she replayed the details of their kiss at least twice and was well on her third mental reenactment when she walked into her living room, only to find Fatima waiting for her.

  “You’ve been with Jamal,” the king’s mother said by way of greeting. “He’s a charming young man.”

  Heidi paused in the foyer of her suite and tried to collect her thoughts. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. What she wanted was to escape to the privacy of her own room where she could relive the wonderful, confusing, exciting evening and try to figure out what it all meant.

  “He’s very nice,” Heidi hedged. “But that doesn’t mean I want to marry him.”

  Fatima rose from her seat on the sofa and held out her hands. “Come here, child.”

  Heidi reluctantly did as she requested. When she was close enough, the queen reached out and grasped her fingers.

  “I have known you since you were a little girl,” Fatima began. “I remember how proud your grandfather was when he first brought you here to meet us.” The older woman smiled at the memory. “You were so bright and pretty, not the least bit afraid of anything. You climbed up on my lap and demanded that I tell you a story. Right then you stole my heart. I had no daughters or granddaughters to love and spoil. I’ve had to make do with the daughters of friends. Now I have Dora, Khalil’s wife. I had so hoped I would also have you.”

  Heidi swallowed, but the motion didn’t dislodge the knot of guilt in her throat. “Don’t do this to me,” she moaned as she tugged free of Fatima’s touch and took two steps back. “You and the king have been wonderful to me. My parents died when I was so young that I don’t remember them at all. While I grew up, Grandfather was always there for me, as were you and King Givon. I appreciate that. I would do anything to repay you your many kindnesses. But please don’t ask me to marry Jamal. I don’t want to marry anyone. I just want to work on the texts and live quietly in the palace.”

  Fatima sank onto the sofa and patted the cushion next to hers. Her actions were so like the king’s earlier that day. Heidi felt as if she was being drawn steadily into a trap from which there was no escape. Reluctantly, she moved forward and perched on the edge of the couch.

  “You are the kind of woman who needs to be married,” Fatima said kindly. “Not because you must have someone to make decisions for you, or because you couldn’t find your own happiness, but because you’ve spent your entire life wanting to belong. I know your grandfather was a wonderful man, and he loved you with all his heart, but Edmond was not prepared to raise a girl. He recognized his limitations. That was why he traveled with you in the summer and sent you away to the boarding school for the rest of the year. So that you would have the best of both worlds.”

  Heidi didn’t want to talk about her grandfather. Even though he’d been gone six years, she still missed him desperately. As for wanting to belong—how had Fatima guessed her fondest wish?

  “You’ve always wanted a home,” the queen continued. “Roots, a family of your own. I know you dream of having children. Don’t you see? With Jamal you can have all of that and more. You can be close to me, the daughter I’ve always wanted. This is El Bahar, my child. Your home. Come be a part of the history you love so much. Be one of the royal princesses. Have babies so that I might hold your child—my great-grandchild—in my arms before it is my time to go.”

  She was drowning. Heidi felt herself sinking slowly under the weight of Fatima’s argument. The combination of guilt and dream-fulfillment was more than she could resist. She’d warned Jamal that she would be unable to turn him down if he asked, so she could only hope he was stronger than she.

  “I don’t want to get married,” she said weakly, making a last-ditch attempt to hold her own against one of the most formidable women in the world. “If I did, it wouldn’t be to someone like Jamal. He’s too much of a s
ensualist for me. I would want a mental and spiritual union rather than a physical one. He would never agree to that.”

  “A spiritual union isn’t going to do much to get you pregnant,” Fatima said blandly. “You might have to rethink that expectation. As for Jamal and his reputation with women…” The queen smiled. “You’re going to have to trust me when I say it’s not a bad thing. Having a husband who is experienced in the marriage bed can make for a very happy union.”

  Heidi wrinkled her nose. They were talking about sex. People made such a big deal out of that. She’d never understood why. It was a biological function, like sneezing. It did not have any mystical power to transform. When the time came, she would happily endure whatever was necessary so that she could have a baby, but she certainly didn’t expect to enjoy herself. In fact…

  A memory teased at the edge of her mind. Then, before she could stop herself, she found herself caught up in a flashback of Jamal’s kiss. Until this night she’d always thought the concept of tongues touching to be, at the very least, disconcerting, at the worst, gross. But now, having experienced that particular pleasure, she knew it was something she wanted to do again.

  Was sex like that? Was she, due to her lack of practical knowledge, missing the point?

  Fatima patted her hand, then rose to her feet. “Just think about it,” she said. “Nothing has to be done tonight.”

  Heidi didn’t think anything had to be done ever, but she kept her opinion to herself and politely bid the older woman good evening.

  Then she was finally alone. She curled up on the sofa and closed her eyes. Smiling to herself, she drifted into the memory of her time in the garden and the magic that was Jamal’s kiss.

  “Did you do it?”

  Jamal clicked several more keys on his computer, then glanced up and saw Malik lounging in the doorway to his office.

  “Did I do what?” Jamal asked.

  Malik raised his eyebrows. “Our bet. Did you get the Prune Princess to crack a smile? Because there’s no way I’m going to believe you actually kissed her. In fact, I’ve already picked out which of my mares I want your stallion to cover.”

  Jamal stiffened slightly. Malik wanted to know about last night. He couldn’t believe it, but what had started out as a simple way to annoy his older brother had turned into something more. He’d forgotten he’d been trying to kiss Heidi to win a bet. The real reason he’d taken her in his arms the previous night had been because he’d wanted to. He found her intriguing, charming and very funny. He’d also enjoyed kissing her, despite her lack of experience.

  Not that her kissing technique mattered, he told himself. He had kissed her and therefore won the bet. He opened his mouth to tell his brother, then stopped himself. For reasons that made no sense to anyone—least of all him—he didn’t want Malik to know what had happened. As if that silly kiss had meant something.

  “She’s not horrible,” he said at last. “She’s bright and has a sense of humor.”

  Malik straightened. “You’re talking about Heidi McKinley, right?” He held up his hand at shoulder level. “About this tall. Glasses, hair back in a bun, ugly clothes.”

  “They’re not ugly. She’s lacking in fashion sense, but she has potential.”

  Malik didn’t look convinced. “You’d have to do some pretty deep digging. I’ll admit no one would ask her to wear a bag over her head, but she’s no beauty.”

  “Just because her attractiveness isn’t glaring and obvious doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

  Malik swore. “You like her,” he accused. “Dammit, Jamal, the woman is a stick-in-the-mud. Didn’t she give you that scrunchy-nose glare thing she does?”

  He smiled. “Yes. It’s charming.”

  “She poisoned you or something. Do you feel sick? Did you fall and hit your head? You can’t tell me that you actually don’t mind spending time with her.”

  “I don’t.”

  Malik glared at him. “You’ve dated some of the most beautiful women in the world. Are you telling me that Heidi McKinley stands up to them?”

  Jamal was saved from answering by the appearance of his father and grandmother. They moved past Malik and stepped into his office.

  Malik glanced from his relatives back to Jamal. “This looks serious. I’ll be leaving. But don’t think we aren’t going to finish this conversation,” he promised. “I want to know what’s wrong with you.”

  He left, closing Jamal’s door behind him. The king and Fatima settled into the two leather chairs on the visitor’s side of his desk.

  “What does Malik think is wrong with you?” Fatima asked as she smoothed her silk skirt into place.

  “Nothing important.”

  As always his grandmother looked lovely. Today she wore a purple dress that emphasized her still-slender shape. The king wore a business suit, as he usually did during the work day. At night or on weekends, he favored the El Baharian traditional garb of cotton pants and a shirt, both covered by a robe.

  “We’re here about Heidi,” the king began in his usual forthright way. “It is time you remarried, and she is the bride I have chosen for you.”

  His father didn’t believe in subtle, Jamal thought humorously. It made for short, to-the-point conversations.

  “There are many advantages to the union,” Fatima said, leaning toward him. “Heidi has a great interest in El Baharian history. She adores the country and understands the customs. Her time in Switzerland has prepared her to handle most of the social functions she’ll be required to attend. She’s healthy, intelligent, and she wants children. On a more personal note, I believe she’s quite fond of you.”

  “She doesn’t know me well enough to be fond of me or not,” Jamal said. “And that’s not the point. Heidi is, as you’ve pointed out, an intelligent woman. She’s not interested in marrying anyone at this point in her life. She should be free to choose her future husband. Let her have a normal courtship. Let her meet someone and fall in love.”

  “What’s to say she won’t fall in love with you?” Fatima asked. “You’re a prince in more ways than one.”

  Jamal smiled at his grandmother, but he didn’t answer the question. In his experience, women didn’t like princes for their great personalities and sparkling wit. Women liked princes because of what they could get, be it money, status, position or power. In all his life, he’d never met a female who was interested in him for himself. He doubted he ever would.

  “Do you defy me on this?” King Givon asked.

  Jamal knew he was treading on dangerous territory. “Father, I will abide by your wishes. I understand my duty is to marry and produce heirs. I’m only asking you to reconsider your choice. I spent some time with Heidi last evening and found her to be a lovely young woman. I would hate to see her trapped in a marriage she doesn’t want.”

  “Even if that marriage is to you?”

  Especially if it was to him, but he didn’t tell the king that.

  “I believe she is the right choice,” the king said. He leaned forward and placed his fist on the table. “I am not wrong in this matter.”

  “You were wrong about Yasmin,” Jamal said flatly. “You were wrong about Malik’s wife.”

  Fatima glared at him. “You will not speak of her,” she said quickly, meaning Malik’s wife, not Jamal’s. “As for Yasmin, yes, we were both wrong about her, but she is gone. You and El Bahar are well rid of her.”

  Jamal agreed completely on the idea of being free of Yasmin. Unlike Heidi, Yasmin had wanted nothing more than to be married to a prince. She had adored nearly everything about the life. The only part she’d disliked was him. Unfortunately he’d been young and stupid and hadn’t seen that truth until it was too late. He’d made the mistake of falling in love with his shallow wife. He’d been a fool and had vowed never to make that mistake again.

  “Don’t do this to Heidi,” he said. “Find me another woman, and I’ll gladly marry.”

  “No,” the king said, rising to his feet. “She is t
he one. The wedding will be at the end of the month.”

  His father swept out of the room.

  Jamal turned his attention to his grandmother. “Can’t you talk to him?”

  “I don’t want to. Heidi is the perfect choice for you.” She smiled. “Ask her, Jamal. I don’t believe she’ll refuse you.”

  He wanted to beg her to refuse him, Jamal thought three days later as he and Heidi walked in the same garden where they’d shared their first kiss. For the past seventy-two hours, he’d tried to figure a way out of the situation, but he could not. He’d avoided both her and his family, but that hadn’t been enough. Just that morning the king had brought him a glittering diamond ring. The implication was clear.

  Jamal could refuse his father’s wishes. He’d defied him enough in the past—especially when he’d been a teenager. But those rebellions had been over small matters, never issues that affected the well-being of his beloved El Bahar. A prince owed his country heirs. A son owed a father obedience. Those truths had been taught to him from the cradle. He might have many flaws, but he knew his duty. So tonight he walked beside a young woman that he had—for a brief time—liked.

  The irony of the situation reflected the blackness of his soul. As long as Heidi didn’t want him, she proved that she was not interested in all a prince had to offer. Then he was free to enjoy her company. To talk with her, perhaps even be her friend. But the second she agreed to marry him, she became like the others—greedy, grasping, determined to be a princess in every sense of the word.

  He’d spent the past three days avoiding her in an effort to convince himself that she wasn’t like them. That perhaps they had a chance at a happy marriage. But now, walking with her, his doubts returned. He would ask—she would say yes—and all would be lost.

  “Did you plan on talking this evening, or is this a silent walk?” she asked. “I’m only curious because I don’t want to violate the ground rules, whatever they may be. If conversation is allowed, then I’d love to tell you about what I found today. It’s actually a series of love letters sent by an El Baharian general back to his bride.”