The Desert Rogues Part 1

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The Desert Rogues Part 1 Page 77

by Susan Mallery


  Kardal felt restless as he approached Sabrina’s room that evening. He normally didn’t allow himself to feel ill at ease. Not since those first disastrous years at the American boarding school. He’d taught himself all he needed to know in order to fit in. Since then he had not experienced the nagging sensation of needing to be doing something else.

  But the feeling was with him tonight. Perhaps it was because he was going to dine with his betrothed, speak with her, look upon her and perhaps touch her. But he would not be able to have her.

  He had thought he might grow to like his future wife, although he had doubted the possibility. He’d thought they might find some common interests…eventually. He’d hoped to find her somewhat easy to talk to. He had never thought he would ache for her. Ache in a way that haunted his sleep until he was reduced to dreaming about her like a teenage boy dreaming of a film star.

  He was the Prince of Thieves. Custom stated that it was an honor to be chosen for his bed. Like his grandfather before him, he had been careful not to abuse the privilege, taking only the willing and experienced. A young widow of an unhappy arranged marriage. A divorced computer technician trained in the west. No married women, no innocents. The Prince of Thieves did not defile virgins.

  Nor did he take innocent princesses to his bed, however much he might like to. Which left him wanting and unable to satisfy that want. It was a most uncomfortable and unfamiliar circumstance. One he would like to change as soon as possible. Yet he could not. Not without setting both himself and Sabrina on a course from which there was no escape.

  Did he want to marry her? Was the wanting simply a desire to tame a beautiful woman who challenged him, or was it something more? Love was an emotion created by women for their own use. It had no place in a man’s world, except for the love a man might have for his children.

  Kardal paused in the corridor and frowned. Children? Had he thought “children” and not just sons? Would he love his daughters as well?

  The image of a red-haired girl riding fearlessly across the desert filled his mind. He heard her laughter and felt pride in the strong, sure movements of her small body. Yes, he thought in some surprise. He would love a daughter. Perhaps even as much as a son. Five years ago he could not have imagined such a thing. What had changed?

  Not wanting to know the answer, Kardal stalked toward Sabrina’s room, then entered without knocking. He found her curled up in a chair in front of the fire, comparing a gold and ruby bracelet with some pictures in a large textbook.

  “I knew you would be unable to resist taking some of the treasure for yourself,” he said by way of greeting. “As you see, it’s easy to say ‘give it back to the rightful owners’ when it is not yours to own. But put the items in your hand and things change.”

  She laughed. “Good try, Kardal, but not even close to the truth. I’m trying to place the age of this piece. It’s a blend of styles.” She closed the book and set it on the table next to her chair, then put down the bracelet as well. “I’m thinking that the artist was originally from El Bahar or Bahania and then moved to Italy at some point. Maybe the late 1400s.”

  She rose and crossed toward him. “How was your day?”

  She moved with the grace of a hawk—her body curved and swaying. The ancient rhythm of the female called to him so strongly it was all he could do to resist her siren song. The ache returned and with it the desire to claim her as his own. To be her first—her only. To touch and taste her innocence, then to change her into a woman and discover all the possibilities they could create together.

  However, this was not the time. Kardal ignored the fire inside of him and instead handed her the saddlebags he’d slung over his shoulder.

  “Your horse and your camel were found wandering in the desert. I believe these belong to you.”

  She laughed and took the bags from him. “My maps and diaries,” she said with delight. “Not that I need them to find my way to the city now. Thank you for bringing them to me. And I appreciate knowing my animals are all right. I’ve been worried about them.”

  “They were found by a tribe of nomads right after the storm,” he told her, watching her open the saddlebags and pull out the contents. “They have been safe since then. The tribe was making its way to the city and turned them over to me as soon as they arrived.”

  He walked to the tray of refreshments Adiva always kept ready in Sabrina’s room, then poured himself a glass of water. “The information in the diary is mostly accurate, but the maps would not have brought you anywhere near the city.”

  She flipped through the pages of the diary. “You looked through my things?” she asked, then glanced at him. “What happened to me being a free woman and all that?”

  He moved toward her and stared into her dark eyes. “You had your chance at freedom, Sabrina, and you chose to stay in the City of Thieves. You are mine once again. To do with what I will.”

  She shivered slightly at his words, but didn’t turn away. “You’re forgetting about the troll prince. He might want me enough to fight for me.”

  Kardal was grateful she didn’t know the truth of her words. “I know he would fall on a sword for you…if he knew you. But he will only know what he has read in the paper and what your father has told him. I think I am safe from him.”

  “You can’t know that,” she said, but they both knew she was bluffing.

  “Is it so awful, to be my slave?” he asked.

  She sighed and turned away. “No. I’m not ready to return to Bahania and face my fate, but it’s going to happen eventually. You have to know that, Kardal. You can’t keep me here forever.”

  “I know.”

  He spoke the words even as he wondered what she would say if she knew the truth. That he could keep her forever, if that was what he desired. What exactly did Sabrina think of him? And why did he care? She was only a woman. His betrothed, if he chose to have her.

  He tried to tell himself that it was only his desire for her that made him interested in her opinion, but a voice in his head warned him it might be more serious than that. He might be close to admitting that Sabrina’s opinions, needs and happiness just might matter.

  It was a most disconcerting state of affairs. One he wasn’t sure he liked at all.

  Chapter Eleven

  The afternoon temperature was surprisingly warm. Sabrina found herself wishing her cloak weren’t so thick and long, but she didn’t have a choice. She also wished she weren’t sneaking around the halls of the palace like some common criminal, but that wasn’t to be helped.

  As she had every day since Kardal had said she could begin cataloging the treasures of the city, she kept careful hold of the items bundled together under her cloak. When she met someone in the hall, she did her best to act as natural and normal as possible, praying no one would guess the truth. Kardal would kill her if he knew what she was doing.

  Sabrina saw the door to her room at the end of the hall and sighed with relief. Another secret mission completed without incident. She slipped into her room and hurried over to the small trunks arranged against the far wall, next to the window. She’d requested them from Adiva, supposedly to store her personal belongings. Fortunately Adiva had never realized Sabrina had very little of her own to store.

  Sabrina shrugged out of her cloak and let it fall to the ground. Lengths of white cloth were wrapped around her middle, holding her precious cargo safe. She released the tie in back, then pulled out three velvet bags and a small jade statue. In the bags were various gems and pieces of jewelry. The jade statue had once belonged to the emperor of Japan. At least the residents of the city had been equitable thieves, she thought humorously. They had stolen from nearly every country in the world.

  After examining the contents of the first bag—the tiara from the reign of Elizabeth I, she opened one of the small trunks and deposited everything inside. Pausing to admire her bounty, she calculated that given just another month she could make quite a sizable dent in the—

  “I kno
w for a fact you can’t be stealing,” a woman’s voice said from behind her. “So what are you doing?”

  Stunned, Sabrina spun on her toes and watched as Cala stepped out of the shadows. Kardal’s mother had been sitting in a chair in the corner, obviously waiting. She’d seen everything. Questions filled her dark eyes, but it was impossible to read her expression or know what she was thinking.

  Sabrina felt the heat that instantly flared on her face. She knew she was turning the color of a pomegranate seed. Words failed her as she met the questioning gaze of someone she had come to think of as a friend.

  “I…” She cleared her throat. “It’s not what you think.”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  Sabrina glanced at the small chests lined up against the wall and knew their contents could damn her. “It’s just—” She began speaking very fast. “Kardal won’t listen to me and I don’t understand his position. If the city no longer steals, why can’t some of the treasures be returned? But he won’t speak of it. He says that if those countries want their treasures, they should come and take them back themselves. Except how can they when they don’t know that they’re here?”

  She twisted her hands together. “I see his point about some of the treasures. He’s right about the Imperial Eggs. Who owns those? But there are other items that are easily identified. I pointed that out to him, but he just laughed. So I, ah, well, I decided to return some of the items myself.”

  She pointed to the chests. “Most of the things I’ve taken are from El Bahar and Bahania. Those are the easiest for me to identify and the ownership is clear. There are a couple of things that belong to the British crown and some other countries. They’re not for myself,” she finished, feeling lame.

  Cala didn’t say anything for a long time. She walked over to the open trunk and stared inside. “I think I told you my charity was first financed by stolen goods.”

  Sabrina exhaled in relief. Cala didn’t sound angry. At least not too angry. “Yes, you’d mentioned that.”

  Cala smiled slightly. “My father indulged me. He gave me diamonds and rubies, emeralds the size of your fist. All stolen. He made sure that what he gave me was untraceable. They were at least a hundred years old and no one knew the rightful owners. So I went out and sold them. In time the charity grew large enough to attract attention. Donations now support the causes. But the seed money was the result of the city’s tradition.”

  She bent down and pointed to a diamond tiara. “This has always been one of my favorites,” Cala said. “Where does it belong?”

  “Great Britain. It was created for the first Elizabeth. She’s wearing it in one of her portraits.”

  Cala straightened and touched her arm. “Kardal can be most difficult when he doesn’t agree with someone. He tends to be stubborn to the point of wearing one down. I’m glad you’ve found a way to circumvent him.”

  Sabrina tried to keep the surprise out of her voice. “You’re not going to tell him what I’ve been doing?”

  Cala laughed. “Kardal is the Prince of Thieves. Surely one with such a title should know when he himself is being robbed.”

  She walked to the sitting area next to the fireplace and rested her hands on the back of the brocade chair. Today Cala wore her casual clothes, jeans and a T-shirt. Her long hair had been pulled back in a braid. She wore no jewelry save a pair of gold hoop earrings and a gold bracelet.

  “What do you think of my son?” she asked, staring into the fireplace, as if the unlit logs could show her a most desired truth.

  The question surprised Sabrina. What did she think of Kardal? “He confuses me,” she said honestly, walking over to stand closer to her guest. “I agree that he can be stubborn, but he can also be kind.”

  She thought of the way he touched her. How he’d kissed her. He was a passionate man, but she wasn’t comfortable saying that to his mother.

  “You’re his prisoner,” Cala said. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

  “When you put it like that, I want to say yes. But I don’t. Mostly because at this point in time, I have no desire to go home. So as long as Kardal lets me, I will stay in the city, cataloging the treasures.” She paused, then smiled. “Stealing those small enough for me to carry to my room, with the intent of returning them when I finally leave.”

  Cala moved around to the front of the chair and settled herself. Sabrina sat opposite her.

  “Why must you go home?” Cala asked.

  Why indeed? Sabrina had begun to suspect she might like to stay for a very long time. But to what end?

  “My father and I aren’t very close,” she began carefully. “However, he does have certain expectations. I am betrothed.”

  Cala looked surprised. “To whom?”

  “I don’t know. I was so angry when he told me he’d arranged a marriage that I left before hearing the details. I refer to my future husband as the troll prince. My biggest fear is that my description is going to be accurate.”

  “Perhaps he will not be as bad as you fear.” Kardal’s mother leaned back in her chair.

  Sabrina didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think about not being with Kardal. She knew she was here on borrowed time and eventually she would have to leave. And then what? Would he miss her? Would he think about her after she was gone? Sabrina didn’t understand her relationship with the Prince of Thieves. He could be both passionate and caring, funny and dictatorial. She still didn’t know why he’d brought her here nor why he kept her. She wasn’t his slave, yet a few days before he’d told her that she wasn’t allowed to leave.

  “I suppose if I were a different kind of person I would want to leave,” she said more to herself than to Cala. “I should hate being held here.”

  “As prisons go, it is very nice,” Cala teased. “One with a remarkable treasure.”

  Sabrina smiled. She supposed the problem was that she liked Kardal. Perhaps too much. He was unlike anyone she’d ever known. Perhaps her half brothers—also princes—had similar personalities, but she’d never spent enough time with them to know.

  “There is also the matter of Kardal,” Cala said, completely serious now. “I think you like him a little.”

  “Yes.”

  Sabrina was willing to admit to that. Perhaps even more than a little. He made her think of things, want things, she’d never thought of before. When she remembered how it was when he kissed her and touched her, she nearly went up in flames. But they had no future. She could not allow them to make love. However angry she might be at her father, she couldn’t defy tradition or the monarchy. Not in that way. She had to stay a virgin. If she did not—if she allowed Kardal to make her his own—her father would kill him. She did not want to think of a world without the Prince of Thieves.

  “Life is complicated,” Cala said quietly. “After nearly thirty-two years, King Givon returns to the city and I can’t think of what I’m supposed to say to him.”

  Cala’s obvious distress distracted Sabrina from her own thoughts. “You invited him. Have you changed your mind?”

  Cala looked at her and laughed. The sound was more strangled than humorous. “A thousand times. Every morning I wake up determined to withdraw the invitation. I reconsider that over breakfast, then around ten in the morning, decide to call and tell him not to come. Then I switch again.” She shrugged. “It goes on like this all day and long into the night.”

  She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around herself. “What am I supposed to tell him?”

  Sabrina tried to imagine what it must be like—to meet the father of one’s child after a thirty-one-year absence. “What do you want to tell him?” she asked. “Is there any unfinished business between the two of you?”

  “Too much. Perhaps none. I don’t know.” Cala shook her head. “I was so young. Just eighteen. I knew the tradition, the expectation. I knew there had to be heirs for the city, but in my heart I never thought my father would make me bed a stranger for the sole purpose of becoming pre
gnant. And if the resulting child was a girl, I would be expected to do it again and again, until I had a son.”

  She closed her eyes as if she could not stand to see into her past.

  “I threatened to run away,” she continued. “I believe I even threatened to kill myself. My father stood firm and told me I was the princess of the city. I had a responsibility to my people, my heritage and the future.” She glanced at Sabrina. “At eighteen, I wasn’t very moved by his arguments. But I had never defied my father, not significantly. So I didn’t run away or take my life. I waited. Then one day he arrived.”

  Cala stood and walked to the fireplace. She touched the uneven stones. “In a room much like this one, I met him for the first time. He was old.” She laughed. “He seemed old to me. He was at least thirty and he was married, with two sons and a third child on the way.” She paused, then turned to face Sabrina. “He was kind. I could tell that the situation made him as uncomfortable as it did me. Perhaps more, because he had a wife and a family. But duty required that we produce a son together.”

  Cala fingered a slender gold chain on her wrist. “That first night we only talked. He said we had time and that he would not rush me. I had imagined being raped and abandoned so his consideration did much to ease my fears. Over the next couple of weeks, we became friends. When we were finally lovers, I was the one who went to him.”

  Cala turned away, facing the stones again. Her shoulders stiffened. “As I already told you, I was very foolish. I didn’t think about his wife or his sons. I only thought of myself and how Givon made me feel when he touched me. I only thought of the laughter, how we danced together. How we made love each morning as the sunlight crept across the room. I fell in love with him.”

  Sabrina’s chest tightened at the words. Cala painted a picture of a doomed relationship, one in which an innocent young woman lost her heart to a man she could never have. Recognition made her squirm. Until this moment, she hadn’t bothered to name her growing feelings for Kardal. She’d found him annoying and charming, dictatorial and a great companion. She knew that she liked him when he wasn’t making her crazy. But she hadn’t thought beyond that. She hadn’t considered there might be danger for both of them.

 

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