The Desert Rogues Part 1

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The Desert Rogues Part 1 Page 51

by Susan Mallery


  Fatima touched her arm and smiled. “You are loveliness itself, Liana. I hope you have a wonderful time with my grandson. Don’t worry about not speaking their language. The people of the desert are most expressive, and you’ll figure out what they’re saying. Besides, Malik will be there. He is fluent in their tongue.”

  The queen drew the white velvet robe around her shoulders and fastened it at her neck, then draped the veil over her face.

  “It ties in these two places,” she said, demonstrating how to secure the covering. “Although you’ll probably want to wait to wear it.”

  Liana felt like an El Baharian princess. She was even going to meet her very own prince. What did it matter if it was only for the evening?

  “Thank you for everything,” she said, turning and impulsively giving Fatima a hug. “You’ve been so kind.”

  “My pleasure. And while you are off to the desert, I’m going to spend the evening with your charming daughter, who, I believe, is currently with the children in the nursery.” Fatima glanced at her diamond and gold watch. “Malik will be waiting for you. Enjoy, my dear. This will be a night to remember.”

  Chapter Seven

  “You look lovely,” Malik said as he held open the rear door of the limo waiting at the main entrance to the palace.

  “Thank you,” Liana murmured, hating how nervous she felt now that she and Malik were together. She wanted to tell him that he looked pretty good, too, what with his robes and traditional headdress. The rich-colored garments emphasized his dark strength and made him appear even taller than usual.

  She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt more awkward—not even on her first date, back when she’d been all of sixteen and excited because Chuck Archer had asked her out to a movie.

  “I’m a little surprised by our mode of transportation,” she said as she slid onto the butter-soft leather seat. “I would have thought we would need a four-wheel-drive vehicle.”

  Malik nodded at the chauffeur hovering by the door, then moved in next to her. “Usually we would, but our friends have set up camp not that far from a paved road. Sandy will drive us out into the desert and we’ll walk the last quarter-mile.” He glanced at her shoes. “I told Fatima you would need sensible shoes. Did she listen and pass the information along?”

  Liana held up one foot. Her sandals were flat and very comfortable. “She warned me to wear something I could walk in.”

  “Good.” He gave her a quick smile, then looked up when the driver lowered the glass partition. “Yes, Sandy?”

  “Are you ready to leave, sir?”

  Malik nodded. “We’re in your capable hands,” he said pleasantly.

  “I shall endeavor not to disappoint, sir.”

  The glass closed silently as the car began to move down the circular driveway.

  “Sandy has been with the family for years,” Malik said, motioning at the man barely visible through the smoky glass. “He’s originally from England, but he moved to El Bahar when he was in his twenties. My father prefers him to all the drivers. In fact, Sandy is the one who taught my brothers and I to handle a car.”

  She looked at the silhouette of the fifty-something chauffeur and grinned. “Then I’m surprised he doesn’t have more gray hair.”

  “Actually, so am I.” He shrugged. “Strong genes, I suppose.”

  “I suspect one would need that to deal with you three princes.” When Malik opened his mouth to protest her teasing, she quickly changed the subject. “Tell me what will happen tonight.”

  He drew his eyebrows together. “Do you really think I’m that easily distracted?”

  “No, but I think you’re that nice a host.”

  “First you try to trick me into changing the subject and now you flatter me. Obviously you need a good lesson in respecting royalty.”

  “Obviously,” she murmured, not quite able to believe she was actually flirting with the Crown Prince of El Bahar. But up close, Malik seemed almost like any other man…aside from the incredible good looks and the fact that they were riding in the back of a limo.

  “I shall think of something appropriate,” Malik promised, then gave her a wink. “Now, about the welcoming ceremony. We’ll be led into a large tent. Generally the women sit apart from the men, although, as you are my guest, they’ll make an exception. We’ll be fed, there will be a few speeches and then Bilal, their chief, will present me with a prize goat or camel.”

  Liana had been listening intently, right up until that moment. She burst out laughing. “A goat or a camel? Are you serious?”

  “Very.”

  “But what will you do with it? There’s hardly room for it to ride back with us.”

  Malik shrugged. “I’ll insist on holding a competition of some kind. A race or a game of skill. The prize will be my gift. So the tribe gets to make me a present of something of value without actually losing the animal. Customs are observed and everyone is happy.” He paused. “Are you thirsty? Would you like something to drink?”

  Liana smiled. “That would be lovely,” she told him.

  Malik opened the small refrigerator on his right and pulled out a chilled bottle of champagne. He removed the foil covering and the wire netting, then expertly popped the cork without spilling a single drop.

  Once he’d poured them each a glass and handed hers to her, he set the bottle back in the tiny refrigerator, then touched his glass to hers.

  “To a night unlike any other.”

  She wanted to believe he meant their being together, but she knew better. Malik was talking about all that she would experience in the nomad encampment. “To the night,” she agreed.

  She took a sip of the bubbly liquid. It was smooth and faintly sweet, yet tasted as light as if it were moonbeams.

  Liana chuckled, then glanced around the spacious passenger compartment. The wood trim wasn’t simply a polished strip of walnut, but was instead inlaid in various pieces that created a beautiful spiraling pattern. Underneath her feet was the softest carpet she’d ever felt. She took another sip of the bubbly liquid and sighed.

  “The rich really are different,” she said. “If you’re trying to get me to regret moving out of the palace, you’re doing a good job.”

  Malik didn’t return her smile. Instead he set his glass on the small inlaid table above the refrigerator. “Do you regret your decision?”

  She noticed he asked the question without actually issuing an invitation to return. Not that she blamed him. No doubt he’d gotten over whatever minor attraction had caused him to take her there in the first place.

  “Regret is a strong word,” she said truthfully as she looked at him. “I’ve had a twinge or two, but most of the time I know it’s the right decision. I mean there were dozens of compensations, but Bethany and I need to be grounded in the real world.”

  “The palace is real.”

  “For you, maybe. Not for us. For me it was like living in Disneyland. It’s a great vacation, but on Monday morning there are still those pesky bills to pay.”

  He shifted on the seat, settling into the corner and angling toward her. “Do you think my life is so easy? That I don’t, as you put it, pay my own bills?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She drank more of the champagne and was surprised to find she’d finished the glass. Malik poured her another, then leaned back against the leather.

  “I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions,” she said, suddenly intrigued by his question. “Tell me what it’s like to be the Crown Prince of El Bahar. Is it wonderful?”

  “At times. I enjoy representing my country when I travel. I have the satisfaction of knowing I can influence hundreds of thousands of lives for the better. I work hard, but I am well compensated by my life-style.”

  It all sounded very nice. “What was it you once told me? Money, prestige, power?”

  “All of that,” he agreed.

  The champagne went down so easily, she thought as she swallowed another mouthful. “But it can’t b
e perfect every moment,” she said. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Ah, you want the seamy side of life at the palace.”

  He was teasing, but she didn’t return his smile. “I’m not saying it has to be seamy, but there are prices for everything. For example, I’ll bet you didn’t have a normal childhood.”

  He shrugged. “It was normal for me. I was taken from my mother when I was four and raised primarily by my father and his ministers.”

  Liana blinked. “Taken, as in, you didn’t see her anymore?”

  “Not often,” he agreed blandly. “My father was concerned that I grow up to be a strong and self-sufficient man. I couldn’t be coddled by women all the time, running to my mother for every little scraped knee or bruised feeling.”

  Liana remembered what Bethany had said—that Malik had broken his arm twice when he’d been a boy. “What about broken arms? Did you get coddled then?”

  “I was fine.”

  But he didn’t meet her gaze as he spoke, and she thought she glimpsed something lost and painful in Malik’s dark eyes. “Were all your brothers raised the same way?”

  “No. Jamal and Khalil stayed with our mother until she died. Then they had a nanny and tutors. For them, the responsibilities of being a prince weren’t so all-encompassing. But then they weren’t going to grow up to rule El Bahar.”

  Liana wondered if she could really read between the lines of what he was saying or if she was assuming too much. It all sounded very sad and lonely to her. She could picture a much younger Prince Malik being told that he had to be strong and brave, that he wasn’t allowed to cry or show weakness, no matter how much he hurt or how tired he might be. But was that reality or fanciful thinking on her part?

  “What about now?” she asked. “Are you still held apart from your brothers?”

  “We are close,” Malik said, staring past her out the darkened windows. “But their lives are different. I have the responsibility of the country’s oil production. I negotiate favorable terms with our customers, maintain our alliance with our neighbors. I also have my duties here, within the boundaries of El Bahar. My father is still a young man, but he is ready to have me take over some of his functions.”

  “Sounds like a lot of work.”

  “Perhaps, but it is all I’ve known. I am the future leader of my country. The people of El Bahar look to me to be strong and always to do the right thing. For them I am the lion of the desert. Powerful, moving forward, fearless.”

  “I think you do a good job,” she said, then finished her glass of champagne.

  Yes, Malik was a fine Crown Prince, but he was also a man. Who did he go to when he was tired of being the lion of the desert? Who held him when he was broken in spirit, if not in body? With whom did he trust his doubts, his hopes and his fears? For he had to have them. He was human, like everyone else.

  “You must get very lonely,” she said.

  Malik looked surprised by her comment. “In a palace full of people? Not possible.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was denying it because he didn’t want to talk about it with her, or if it was because he really didn’t know how isolated he was. His entire life was designed to keep him apart from everyone else. Her heart ached for the young boy taken away from the loving support of his mother and given to the care of ministers designed to turn him into a man who wouldn’t dare feel any weakness, let alone show it.

  How did Malik pass the long nights when the ghosts of the past seemed to lurk around every corner and the emptiness of the future loomed on for eternity? Or was she projecting? Maybe she was assuming that Malik was enough like her to long to have someone special in his life to ease the burden and make the good times even better.

  It was the champagne, she thought, even as he poured her another glass. She’d been too excited to eat much that day so the bubbles and alcohol were going to her head.

  “I’m very impressed with your daughter,” Malik said as he set the bottle back in the small refrigerator. “She’s going to be an excellent horsewoman. She’s also very bright. I enjoy her company.”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  “Yes. I’ve never spent any time in the company of children.”

  “I suppose not.” She eyed his glass and tried to figure out if he’d filled it as well as hers, or was he still on his first drink? But she wasn’t sure, and it was suddenly so very unimportant.

  “I’m sorry I accused you of using her to get to me,” she said earnestly. The words sounded slightly off to her ears. Was her tongue thickening? What had she been talking about? Oh, yes. “What I mean is, your relationship with her is separate from the one you have with me. Not that you really have one with me. She adores you, by the way.”

  “I suspect I’m something of a father figure to her.”

  “You need to have children of your own,” Liana told him. “Heirs and all that. Your brothers have children.”

  “I know.”

  He leaned toward her and took the glass from her hand. She wanted to protest its absence, but he was moving closer and she had the sudden thought that given the choice between drinking the bubbly moonbeams and kissing Malik, the kiss would win every time.

  “So, have you forgiven me for bringing you to the palace?” he asked.

  “Oh, sure. It was fine.” Malik momentarily swam out of focus, then reappeared. Was she drunk? On less than three glasses of champagne? She considered for a moment and decided it was very possible. She’d never been much of a drinker. “I mean I’m glad we stayed friends.”

  He moved closer still, slipping his arms around her and lowering his head to hers. “Is that what we are? Friends?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was a bare whisper.

  “How disappointing.”

  “Why? What did you want us to be?”

  “I’m not sure.” His mouth brushed hers. “Perhaps something more…intimate.”

  “That works, too,” she managed before his lips claimed hers in a molten kiss that left her breathless.

  It was as it had been before, she thought hazily as the magical heat began to flood her body. In a matter of seconds she found herself aroused and hungry for him. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the man himself. All she knew was that he hadn’t even touched her with his tongue and her body was aching for them to make love.

  The need increased when he brushed her lower lip, causing her to part for him. He entered her mouth slowly, but with a sureness that left her breathless. He explored her, returning to favorite spots that made her moan and writhe and clutch at him. His headdress prevented her from burying her fingers in his hair, so she contented herself with slipping them under his robe and exploring his strong, broad back.

  Outside, the sun had set and all was darkness. Malik turned off the interior lights and plunged them into blackness. Then he placed his hands on her waist, shifting her until she straddled him, her thighs cupping his hips, her hands resting on his shoulders.

  “Liana,” he breathed as he kissed her cheeks, her nose, her chin, then trailed down her neck to the folds of cloth that covered her.

  He peeled away the first layer, exposing her chest down to the top of her bra. She felt a shiver of anticipation, then gave in to the gentle caress of his lips and tongue against her sensitive skin.

  He licked the sweet valley between her breasts, then explored as much of her curves as were available to him. She found herself clutching his head in her hands, urging him to do more, yet half afraid he would unfasten her bra, exposing her to him. Despite the aching dampness between her thighs and the pressure in her breasts, she wasn’t sure she was ready to take that next step. After all, she barely knew Malik and she’d only ever been with Chuck, and what woman in her right mind made love in the back of a car with a prince?

  As if reading her mind and understanding her indecision, he returned his attention to her mouth, kissing her deeply, making her writhe until her sensitized feminine place settled directly on the hard ridge of his ar
ousal.

  And then she was lost. She reached for his hand to draw it to her breast, more than willing to make love right here, right now. She would worry about the consequences in the morning. But as her fingers closed around his, the limo drew to a stop.

  Malik sighed. “Talk about lousy timing,” he said, his words muffled against her throat. “With the privacy glass in place Sandy has no idea what we’ve been doing, so he’ll be around to open the door in about five seconds.”

  Liana squeaked as she scrambled off him. He helped her smooth her clothes back in place, then gave her a wolfish grin. “I can’t tell you when I’ve enjoyed a car ride more,” he said.

  “Yeah, right,” she mumbled, suddenly feeling awkward about what they’d done. “I’m sure this sort of thing happens all the time.”

  The passenger door opened, but Malik ignored it. Instead, he cupped her face and forced her to look at him. “I’ve never done anything like this before. Not with anyone else.”

  His gaze was steady, and, for reasons that made no sense, she actually believed him. A smile tugged at her mouth. “Good.”

  The walk to the camp was shorter than Liana had expected. The night was clear, and hundreds of stars illuminated their way. Bilal, the leader of the nomad tribe, had sent scouts to guide them. She and Malik found themselves surrounded by short, powerful-looking men in traditional robes and carrying torches.

  When they crested a rise, she could see the camp sprawled out below them. Dozens of tents circled three sides of a huge fresh-water spring. There were children running about, and open cooking fires. Goats and camels were kept in makeshift pens on the far side of the camp. She felt as if she’d found her way onto a movie set.

  “Are they remaking Lawrence of Arabia?” she asked Malik.

  He grinned. “This is the real world, not Hollywood.”

  Perhaps, but it felt very surreal to her.

  As their arrival was noticed, the tribespeople gathered around them. Conversation flowed in an unfamiliar tongue. Liana found herself surrounded by women and was suddenly led away.

 

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