“I want you,” she breathed as she kissed him.
Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her to the edge of the sofa. Her legs parted, and she welcomed him as he slipped home.
“Be with me,” she whispered. “In me. Let me make you feel all the things I felt when you touched me.”
They danced as lovers have danced for thousands of years. He let himself fill her, savoring her damp heat and the sensation of finally being home.
When he began to move, she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him close. She was tight and the friction made it impossible for him to hold back. He moved faster and faster, losing himself in the passion. She clung and her breathing increased in speed.
“I can’t believe it,” she gasped, straining to get closer. “It’s happening again. Malik, please. Don’t stop. Do it harder. Take me.”
The words were wrenched from her, guttural, as if they’d escaped against her will. She aroused him to a feverous pitch, yet he held back, restraining his own release until he felt the first rush of her body’s rippling as release overtook her. Then he cried out into the night and poured himself into her.
The sensation ripped through him like a sword, tearing him into pieces, destroying his thin veneer of civilization, making him savage and greedy. He pressed in hard and deep, claiming her, joining with her until he truly couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.
Consciousness faded. There was only the moment and the feelings and the woman who offered him a haven. He held on to her, needing her close, breathing in her scent, her sounds, her heat, knowing that when they finally separated he would feel as if he’d lost a piece of himself.
Stay, he thought frantically even as she leaned back against the sofa and smiled at him. Stay with me because I will not survive without you.
But he didn’t say the words. He barely acknowledged that he thought them. For reasons he didn’t understand, she was the one. He would do anything to keep her. Somehow he must find the secrets necessary to bind her to him forever.
Fatima was right. He had to make Liana fall in love with him.
Liana got out of bed in time to see her daughter off to school, then tumbled back onto her mattress where she slept until after nine. When she awoke for the second time, it was to a room full of bright sunshine and a sense of well-being unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.
It wasn’t just that she and Malik had made love the night before…and again in the quiet hours that preceded dawn before he’d left her room to return to his own quarters. She was willing to admit that some of her happiness came from her body’s physical contentment, but there was something else going on. When she’d been in Malik’s arms, she’d felt a true connection. As if all the talk about being joined as one person finally made sense. While he held her and they made love, it was as if she could see into his very soul.
“Ridiculous,” she told herself as she stepped out of the shower and began drying. “Two really don’t become one—despite the words in the marriage ceremony.” Yet she couldn’t shake the idea that there was more between them than just chemistry.
She wrapped the towel around herself and stared at her reflection. Was it real or was it wishful thinking on her part? Had she found a way to touch her husband that had nothing to do with physical contact and everything to do with hearts? Last night had been a revelation on many different levels. She’d learned that she wasn’t anywhere near prepared to be the wife of a ruling monarch and that she didn’t think she would enjoy many aspects of the life. But she’d also seen that Malik’s world was even more empty than she’d imagined, and that he was desperately alone. The fact that he’d reached out to her—marrying her and drawing her into his world—made her feel soft and squishy inside. As if he was willing to trust her and only her.
Did she want that, she asked herself, as she began applying her makeup. Did she want to be the one person Malik went to, the keeper of his confidences? That kind of relationship implied an intimacy that was foreign to her. Malik was nothing like Chuck, yet that was hardly a bad thing. With her ex-husband, she’d never felt like a partner in marriage. With Malik, she wouldn’t be a full partner either. There was so much that he would control by virtue of his title and position. Yet if he truly let her into his heart and soul then they would be partners on a much more important level.
“More questions,” she murmured as she smoothed on eye shadow, then reached for her tube of mascara. Questions of a different kind, but no more answerable than the question of why he’d picked her.
Maybe it was because he felt it, too, she thought suddenly. Maybe he’d sensed their connection from the beginning, long before she’d realized it was there. Was that possible?
The concept of being so intensely close to another human being both intrigued and frightened her. If nothing else, she was going to have to be even more sure that she was making the right decision at the end of the month. Although, now that she knew the truth about Iman, leaving Malik was not going to be so easy. She didn’t want to humiliate him in front of his people. Nor did she want to make a mistake with either of their lives. But she couldn’t stay if it was wrong for her and Bethany to be here.
“Talk about a tangle,” she said as she walked to her closet and began looking at her clothes. She didn’t have any real plans for the day so it probably didn’t matter what she wore. Maybe she should—
A knock at the door of her suite interrupted her thoughts. Still wearing a robe and nothing else, she crossed the living room and opened the door to admit Fatima followed by half a dozen servants. Every one of them had an armful of clothes.
“Good morning,” the elegant queen said, kissing her on the cheek. “I’ve decided that it’s time for you to start dressing like the princess you are. But I could not face a day of shopping so I had the store come to you.”
As Liana watched, more servants came in carrying boxes and bags. There were dresses and ballgowns and dozens of shoes and purses.
“Put them wherever you can,” Fatima said. “Then leave us.” She smiled at Liana. “Rihana will bring us lunch later, so take your time trying on everything. Only pick what you truly love. You can always go shopping in Paris and London later in the year.”
“Okay,” Liana said, stunned by the opulent display.
By the time the servants left, there were clothes everywhere. On sofas and chairs, in boxes stacked in the center of the room and on all the tables. She bent over to finger the skirt of a purple dress, feeling the smooth, cool silk, and wondering how much it all cost. Not that she was going to ask. For one thing, she doubted Fatima would tell her. For another, it didn’t matter. The royal family had a degree of wealth that was beyond imagining.
“Are you overwhelmed?” Fatima asked as she pushed aside a lovely beaded black gown to make room for herself on the sofa. “I’ve been waiting for you to realize you need new things, but last night, when I saw how lovely you looked in your ballgown I decided to take matters into my own hands. Do you mind?”
Liana looked at the beautifully dressed woman, wearing perfectly matched pearls and a green suit that probably cost more than Liana had made in a month…or two. She knew that Fatima was only being kind. Considering how her grandson had married his new wife and the potential for scandal, the queen was taking it all very well. Liana was grateful for the offer of help and friendship.
She smiled. “Yes, I’m overwhelmed, but I’m not the least bit offended. I wouldn’t have known where to start with clothes.” She looked around the room. “Although I have to admit I would have begun with a little less stock to go through.”
Fatima waved her hand. “It will be fun to try on everything. Go put on some undergarments, including panty hose. While you’re doing that, I’ll sort. It’s better to try on all of one kind of thing at a time. Day dresses and suits, cocktail dresses, then ballgowns.” She raised her dark eyebrows slightly as she smiled a slightly wicked smile. “I might have even brought along a few daring nightgowns…if you’r
e interested.”
Liana felt herself blush. She had a feeling that everyone in the palace knew where Malik had spent the night. “We’ll, um, do those last.”
“Of course.”
Four hours later Liana was exhausted but happy. She’d gone through all the clothes and most of the shoes. She now had a wardrobe fit for a princess, although according to Fatima, she needed dozens more things.
“We might not be as well known as the British royal family,” Fatima said as she sipped her tea, “but we do still find ourselves photographed for tabloids and magazines. Never forget you have a duty to be as lovely and well-groomed as possible. As Malik’s wife, you need to present yourself in such a way as to make the people of El Bahar proud. Young girls will pin pictures of you on their walls and women will copy what you wear.”
Liana shook her head and leaned back into the chair. Dozens of open shoeboxes were scattered around her on the floor. She hadn’t known there were so many styles in existence, let alone ever thought she would have them all in her living room. And the purses. She’d been the kind of woman who had a dark bag for winter and a lighter bag for summer. Now she had more than she could count.
“I can’t imagine anyone hanging a picture of me anywhere,” she admitted. “This is all so strange and more than a little frightening.”
“You were fine last night,” Fatima reminded her. “You held your own with the King of Bahania.”
“Beginner’s luck,” Liana insisted. “We mostly talked about Bethany and her love of Arabian horses.”
“Not luck.” Fatima stared at her intently. Despite helping Liana get in and out of nearly a hundred different outfits, Fatima looked as fresh and relaxed as she had when she’d arrived that morning. “Some people can spend a lifetime traveling in royal circles and still never get it right.”
Liana wondered if she was talking about Iman. If she’d known the queen better, she might have asked. Instead, she shifted the conversation to a safer topic. “Malik does well. I suppose it’s because he was born to the job.”
“Perhaps,” Fatima agreed. “If nothing else, he’s had plenty of practice.” She sipped her tea and eyed Liana. “Did he tell you how he was taken away from his mother when he was only four?”
“I’d heard.” Her heart still ached for the lonely little boy he must have been. “His father raised him after that.”
Fatima nodded. “I never agreed, but my son refused to listen. After all, he’d been taken from me when he’d been that age. I had fought with my husband about the practice, but the old ways can be difficult to change.” Her gaze turned speculative. “I suspect you wouldn’t allow such a thing.”
Liana was shocked. “Allow my child to be taken away from me when he was four, simply because he was one day going to be king? No. I wouldn’t let anyone do it.”
“Malik is very stubborn. What if he fought you?”
Liana set her jaw. “I mean no disrespect, Queen Fatima, but I find the practice inhuman and wrong. Malik might be the Crown Prince, but he doesn’t frighten me. I would not submit to that kind of tradition.”
The older woman sighed with pleasure. “I’m glad. I admire your strength and determination. It took me many years to learn to assert myself, and, by the time I did, it was too late for Givon. And his mother wasn’t very strong at all, so she never fought her husband. So Malik was taken away and expected to be a man from the time he was four.
“I still remember when he fell and broke his arm for the first time. He cried from the pain. His father was gone, but one of the ministers found him and humiliated him for his girlish tears.” Her mouth twisted in remembered anger. “Those were his exact words. Girlish tears. He scolded Malik for the weakness and locked him in his room for the rest of the day. It was only the next morning that he finally took the child to a doctor to get the bone set.”
She set her cup on the table. “Fortunately Givon agreed the man had gone too far, and he was relieved of his position. Still, it wasn’t enough. No one comforted Malik. I tried to go with him to the doctor, but I was not allowed. That night I sat in the hallway outside his room and wished I could hold him close.” She pressed her lips together.
“I can’t imagine what that was like,” Liana said grimly, knowing that she would have torn through the door if someone had tried to keep her from Bethany.
“That is why you are so right for Malik. When you have a son, you will be there to remind Malik of his past and to help him find a new way…a different way…to raise a Crown Prince.”
Liana didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t made up her mind yet as to what she was going to do. While last night had given her reason to think that she and Malik might have a chance of making a marriage between them work, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of the royal family.
Fatima rose to her feet. “Enough about the past. We have a glorious future to celebrate. Now that you’ve chosen your clothes, I’ll have the others sent back.” She smiled. “Rihana can move your new things for you.”
Liana frowned. “Move them? I don’t need her help for that. I can carry them into the bedroom myself.”
“Don’t be silly. You don’t need to carry your things across the palace. Without help, it would take too many trips.”
At first Liana didn’t understand what the other woman was saying. Then her meaning sank in. Fatima thought she was moving into Malik’s rooms rather than staying here.
“Fatima, I appreciate all your help and your confidences today,” she began gently. “I hope you’ll understand when I tell you nothing has changed. Malik married me against my will and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I don’t know what’s going to happen between us and until I do, I think it’s important for Bethany and myself to stay in these rooms.”
Fatima stiffened. “You can still say that? After what I told you?”
Liana felt small and ungrateful. She’d never meant to make the queen angry with her. “Everything is so complicated,” she began. “I have a lot to think about.”
“I see.” Dark eyes met her own. “I thought you had realized that Malik was worth fighting for. Obviously I was wrong. Forgive me for taking up your time and boring you with stories from his past.”
Tears sprang to Liana’s eyes. “Fatima, please don’t be like this. I don’t want to be estranged from you.”
“It seems we have no choice. I love my grandson. I thought you were on your way to loving him as well. I thought you would be the one to see past the distance he always keeps to the man underneath. But I was wrong about you.”
“What do you expect from me? When I first got here Malik practically kidnapped me to keep me at the palace, and then he tricked me into marriage.”
Fatima’s mouth was a thin disapproving line. “Yes, I can see how his determination to have you in his life would be distressing. You prefer men who can walk away from their family without a second thought.”
The low blow landed squarely on her pride. She didn’t know how Fatima had found out about Chuck—probably from Bethany—but it didn’t matter.
“You’re not being fair,” Liana said. “I know that Malik is a much better man than Chuck. I just have to be sure.”
“I might not have been able to protect him when he was a child,” Fatima told her coldly. “I know now that I should have fought my son on that point. Nor was I able to protect him from the horror of his first marriage. But you can be sure I will not let anyone else destroy him.”
“I would never do that.”
Fatima glared at her. “What do you think leaving him will do?”
Chapter Fourteen
Much as she tried, Liana couldn’t get Fatima’s words out of her head. She felt that the queen was blaming her for wanting to be sure that her marriage to Malik was the right thing for both of them. But the older woman either wouldn’t or couldn’t see her side of things.
Their unfriendly parting made Liana restless, and she paced in the luxurious suite until she felt as if she knew every sq
uare foot of marble flooring by heart. Time passed slowly. She kept glancing at the clock, but even the approaching late afternoon wasn’t going to make any difference. Bethany was staying at school until dinner so she could work on a special project with two new friends and their teacher, so she was all alone, with only her memories and her conscience for company.
Was Fatima right? Would her leaving hurt Malik? Did he care about her? How on earth was she supposed to be able to figure that out? The man wasn’t overly forthcoming with his feelings. And what did she think of him? While he could be charming and a pleasant companion, he was also dictatorial and demanding. She paused by the French doors and touched the cool glass. On the other hand, he was a sweetheart with her daughter and an incredible lover. The tiny glimpses she’d had into the workings of his mind told her he was both intelligent and incredibly isolated. He’d held himself apart for so long, she wondered if that would ever change. Was he capable of an emotionally intimate relationship, and did she want to stay if he wasn’t?
Once again she had more questions than answers. Last night had been wonderful. Not just the sex, but before. She’d actually had a good time at the state dinner, even though she’d been terrified. She and Malik had worked well together—they had the potential to be a good team. She sensed that he desperately needed someone on his side—someone he could depend on and trust.
She stared at the beautiful ocean in the distance. Maybe she was going about this all wrong, she thought suddenly. Maybe instead of figuring out what she wanted, which was impossible because she didn’t have enough information, she should figure out what Malik wanted. Did he want emotional depth in his relationship? Was he looking for a surrogate daughter and easy sex, but little else? Her decision depended somewhat on his expectations.
“There’s only one way to find out,” she told herself and quickly left the room.
This time the journey to his office was relatively simple. She remembered where to turn and soon found herself once again facing the imperious Zachary, who gazed at her with faint disapproval.
The Desert Rogues Part 1 Page 59
