The erotic fantasy produced predictable results. Rafe swore silently as blood rushed to his groin, hardening him in an instant.
“Come on,” he said, taking Zara by the hand and gently tugging her down the hall. “It’s time for princesses to be in bed.”
“Are you tucking me in?” she asked playfully.
“Not in this lifetime.”
They stopped in front of her door. She looked at him. “You know, it’s strange. In my regular life I would never come on to any guy, and if I did, any hint of rejection would leave me devastated for the rest of my life. Yet here I’m very comfortable begging you for the smallest of favors and despite your constant refusal, I survive.”
“You’re tough.”
She shook her head. “I think it’s because every time I mention something illicit, your eyes darken with fire. I like the heat.”
Desire poured through him. Rafe would have sold his soul that second if he could have hauled Zara up against him and taken her. He ached to fill her with his arousal, to teach her exactly what kind of magic went on between men and women.
“You’re imagining it,” he said instead.
“Nope. Not even for a second. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that Byron invited me to go horseback riding with him in two days. Apparently, it gets really hot in the afternoon so we’ll be heading out early. I hope that’s all right with you.”
It was as if she’d slapped him. Rafe felt the sting, but didn’t allow himself to show any kind of reaction. Her personal affairs didn’t matter, he reminded himself. This assignment was temporary. Soon he would be back in the City of Thieves, and Zara Paxton would be little more than a memory.
“Just let me know when and where,” he told her. “I’ll be there.”
“Armed?” she asked teasingly.
“Always.”
Her smile faded. “Tell me you want to kiss me good-night, Rafe. I think I’ve earned that.”
Involuntarily he dropped his gaze to her mouth. He remembered her taste, the sweet intake of her breath when he’d stroked her tongue. Oh, yeah, he wanted to kiss her.
“You’re making my life hell, Zara. Is that good enough?”
She raised herself up on tiptoes and lightly kissed his cheek. “Almost,” she told him, before taking her shoes from him and slipping into her room.
This was so not what she’d planned, Zara thought two days later as she rode across the desert. Somehow in her mind the experience had become a cross between a scene in a movie and a perfume commercial. She’d imagined dew glistening on the lush foliage, the sun rising in the east, herself riding elegantly next to a handsome man as their horses galloped across the rolling hills of the desert.
To begin with it was darned hot, even a few minutes before sunrise. Second, lush foliage didn’t fit into the desert and any dew had long been sucked up by the dry, heated air. Last but certainly not least, her half a dozen experiences on tired rental horses at a local stable had not prepared her for the reality of trying to stay on a purebred Arabian gelding.
“How are you doing?” Byron asked.
“Great,” she lied, flopping more out than in the saddle.
At least Byron looked the part…sort of, she thought. He rode well and appeared halfway decent in his riding clothes. It wasn’t his fault that she found Rafe far more compelling. Even though the men had similar coloring, there was no comparing their builds or faces. Rafe was the hands-down winner.
“It’s a beautiful morning,” Byron called out as her horse drifted to the left.
“Yes, beautiful.”
She tried to ease her mount back into line. The horse didn’t want to cooperate. Obviously, the stable guy had been having a laugh at her expense when he’d promised a gentle horse. That or there weren’t any gentle, easy, slow horses in Bahania. Thank goodness they’d stopped trotting and were now walking. At least her butt wasn’t forever slapping against the hard leather of the saddle. While she knew she was going to be sore later, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for the horse. She doubted the creature appreciated being pounded by her bony butt.
“Are you…”
The rest of Byron’s sentence was drowned out by the powerful engines behind him. Zara tried to glance over her shoulder, but the movement made her slip more than she could handle and she had to grab on to the horse’s mane to stay in the saddle. Still, she didn’t have to see the three Hummers and two Jeeps, all filled with armed guards to know they were there.
Instead she turned to glare at Rafe, who rode easily, just a few paces behind them. The man was making her crazy. A bodyguard she could accept. A bodyguard who obviously enjoyed tormenting her was a pain, but also doable. But when he insisted on mocking her, that was too much to stand.
The amount of security he’d arranged for the ride was insane. Every time she and Byron tried to speak, the vehicles drew closer, making it impossible to hear what the other person was saying.
Zara reined in her horse. The animal stopped, which surprised her. Byron slowed his horse. Behind him the motorcade drew to a halt.
“What is it?” Byron asked.
Nothing about the man appealed to her, yet she had told the king she would give Byron a chance. So here she was—keeping her word.
“I thought if we stopped moving, they might stop getting so close,” she told him. “I’m sorry this all turned out so badly.”
He moved his horse closer. “Your father wants to keep you safe.”
Zara held in a groan. The fact that Byron knew or had guessed her relationship with the king shouldn’t be a surprise. Still she felt disappointed. Telling herself no one would be interested in her for herself was one thing, but having it highlighted was another.
Rafe rode to her other side. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. The duke and I are having a conversation.”
He had the audacity to grin and ask, “What about?”
Chapter Nine
Zara stalked out of the stable without saying anything. Rafe had been in the middle of telling the horse trainer that none of the mounts had been pushed very hard when he was forced to break off in midsentence to go after her. The stiffness of her walk and the set of her head warned him that she was furious.
Rafe acknowledged that he’d probably gone a bit too far with the Hummers and the Jeeps. Not to mention the armed guards. The odds of a kidnapping taking place were slim at best. Hardly anyone knew about her. Word would spread quickly, but right now she was fairly safe. Still, he’d been unable to resist calling in the troops—to give the duke something to think about if nothing else.
However, Zara hadn’t seen things that way. Worse, she’d probably hated having an audience while she struggled to stay on her horse. Obviously, she hadn’t had much practice riding horses bred in a royal stable.
“Zara, wait.”
He caught up with her in the courtyard between the stable and the house. The sun had already drifted well into the sky, and the heat sucked the air from his lungs. They stood in the shade of a cluster of date palms, but the temperature still had to be over a hundred degrees.
She spun to face him, temper flaring in her brown eyes. “What do you want?” she demanded as she pushed up her glasses. “I would think you’ve already had your joke for the day.”
He instantly felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I guess I went a little too far.”
“Yes, you did.”
She drew in a breath, then sank down on the blanket of grass by the trees. After drawing her legs to her chest she rested her forehead on her knees.
They were in a small grove of palms, protected from view by the foliage at the base of the trees. Except for a cat grooming in the sun a few feet away, they were alone.
“It’s not you,” she mumbled. “I’m angry at Byron.”
Rafe crouched next to her. He wasn’t concerned that Byron had tried anything—he hadn’t left them alone long enough for anything to happen. “What did he do?”
“No
thing. It’s what he said.” She raised her head and glared at him. “Do I look stupid to you?”
“Not at all.”
“I didn’t think so. Men worrying that I’m not smart enough has never been the problem. Usually they think I’m too smart.”
“So the duke thought you were an idiot?”
“Apparently.” She rubbed her temples. “I can’t even say it. It’s just too humiliating.”
Rafe rose to his feet. “If he insulted you—”
“He did, but not the way you’re thinking,” she said, interrupting. She looked away. “He said I was beautiful.”
“What?” Rafe frowned. That was hardly an insult. He ignored the tension in his chest that told him he didn’t like the duke complimenting Zara.
“You heard me.”
He sank next to her on the grass. She wore her hair down in a thick braid. As she spoke, she twisted the braid around her fingers.
“Why is that so horrible?” he asked. “Don’t you want him saying nice things?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want him lying to me and expecting me to believe him. I would have accepted pretty or even attractive. But beautiful? The man obviously thinks I’m a moron. Or he doesn’t think at all. Or he assumes that I’ll be so bowled over by his flattery that I won’t bother to question his sincerity.”
“I think you’re making too much of this.”
“Of course you’d say that. You’re a man. But it’s significant to me.”
Rafe sensed he was treading on dangerous territory. He decided to go slowly and carefully. “You’re an attractive woman, Zara. Beauty isn’t universal. Maybe Byron was telling the truth from his point of view, but you don’t feel comfortable admitting it.” He hated that he was defending the guy.
“Maybe camels fly here in the desert.” She glared at him. “I understand how all this works. When people meet there’s either an attraction or there isn’t. That attraction can color someone’s view but it’s not going to take it out of the realm of reality. I mean you have obviously had sexual feelings for me, at least that one time when we kissed, yet you’d never say I was beautiful.”
She paused just long enough to make Rafe sweat. There was a deep, dark conversation pit right in front of him and he didn’t know how to keep from falling in. Fortunately Zara kept talking.
“If Byron knew me and had spent time with me, I just might believe him. But right now he’s just playing some stupid game with me and it’s really annoying. Is it always going to be like this? I thought getting a date was bad before, but this is impossible.”
Another of the king’s cats strolled by. Rafe patted the creature before turning his attention back to Zara.
“Take a deep breath and slow down,” he told her. “First of all, you’re still getting used to a new situation. It won’t always be so confusing. Second, give yourself some credit. You act like you’re the female version of the elephant man. That’s not true.”
“I know the kind of woman I am, and I know what men say about me.” She tossed her braid back over her shoulder. “I’m smart and intimidating. Not beautiful, not sexy. Cleo’s the man magnet in this family.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit.” He found her damned sexy, although he couldn’t tell her. Not without creating a different kind of trouble.
She shook her head impatiently. “Get real. My dissertation was on the changing face of society as demonstrated by feminist writers in the last quarter of the twentieth century. I doubt that makes you think of sweaty sheets. It’s just impossible. I’m never going to find someone who wants me.”
She’d gone from angry to vulnerable in a heartbeat. He could handle the former, but not the latter. Her slumped shoulders and bleak expression made him want to pull her close and offer comfort. A dangerous proposition, he reminded himself. He was the hired help—nothing more.
“You’ll find him,” he told her. “The right guy is out there.”
“How will I find him? And where is he? If you have any names with you, please feel free to pass them along.”
She started to get to her feet. Involuntarily Rafe grabbed her wrist to hold her in place. The second his fingers touched her soft skin, he knew he’d made a really big mistake. Especially when she looked at him and he saw the questions in her big eyes. Questions and desire.
An answering spark leaped to life inside of him. His self-control deserted him, leaving him hungry. There was only one way to satisfy his appetite. Only one way and with one woman…
“Rafe.”
She breathed his name, the single syllable giving away more than she realized. He heard the anticipation, the wanting. It increased the fire inside of him, burning away the last of his resistance. Before he could come to his senses and head for the open desert, he pulled her close.
She melted against him. Her arms came around his neck as he hauled her onto his lap. He shifted so that he could lean against the base of a date palm. The right side of her chest pressed against his. She was hot, sweet and more desirable than any woman he’d ever known. At that moment he felt as if he would die if he didn’t kiss her.
So he did. He moved his lips against hers, exploring what he’d discovered before, listening for the sound of her breath catching, pleased when her fingers trembled. He licked her lower lip. When she parted, he slipped inside, teasing her, tasting her, taking her deeply, insistently. She didn’t shy away or protest. Instead she strained toward him, circling his tongue, then closing her lips around him and sucking gently.
Need shot to his groin, engorging him to the point of discomfort. He swore silently, knowing this was a game he couldn’t win. Not with her.
But she tempted him beyond reason. One of his hands lay on her thigh. He moved his palm along the outside seam of her slacks to the curve of her hip. From there he slipped to her rear. He squeezed the roundness, then eased her into a straddling position with her feminine center resting directly on his need.
It was an unbearable combination of pleasure and pain. He couldn’t help grabbing her hips and rocking her against him. Her body moved easily as they found a rhythm that made them both gasp. She cupped his face and continued to kiss him. Tension made her shudder. He could feel her arousal growing, not to mention his own. The second he began calculating the distance to a more private location, he knew he’d crossed the line. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off.
Zara was caught by surprise. She flashed him a hurt look. “You can’t be stopping now.”
“I have to.”
He stood up and turned his back on her. He ached with desire. Every inch of him throbbed in time with his rapid heartbeat. What the hell was wrong with him? He never allowed himself to get pulled off course during an assignment. In other circumstances, this sort of distraction could get him killed. He knew better.
“I’m sorry,” he ground out. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
He sensed her moving and turned to see her scrambling to her feet.
“Don’t make it worse by apologizing,” she muttered. “I don’t understand what the big deal is. There’s obviously a huge attraction between us. No one has to know that we explored it.”
“It’s not that simple. I have a responsibility to protect you, even from yourself. And if that’s not a good enough reason, then try telling yourself that these sorts of things have a life of their own. Do you really want to read about your personal life in the tabloids?”
“That would never happen.”
He didn’t bother responding. Zara was new to this world, but he wasn’t. He’d seen the disastrous consequence of an ill-timed affair.
“You’re making me crabby,” she told him. “I hate being crabby. Not to mention confused. I want things with you I’ve never wanted with anyone else. Worse, I’m telling you that and even acting on the impulses. This is so not me. What’s going on here? Is it being in Bahania. Is it the water or maybe early signs of senility?”
Rafe didn’t have an answer. Or may
be he didn’t want to see the truth. He and Zara generated a lot of attraction between them. The heat was dangerous to both of them.
She put her hands on her hips. “Should I assume your silence means you don’t have an answer, either?”
“Not one that makes sense.”
“How helpful is that?” She sighed. “Everything about this situation is unfamiliar. I’ve actually teased you about kissing me. I never do that.”
“I never let personal interfere with business.”
She stared at him. “So this isn’t usual for you?”
“Not even close.”
A smile curved up the corners of her mouth. “That makes me feel a little better.”
He didn’t respond to that statement. There was no point in telling her that his inability to ignore the passion between them had him wondering what the hell was wrong with him. When had he gotten so damn soft? He needed a few weeks in a war zone to improve his reflexes and his self-control.
“Where do we go from here?” Zara asked.
“Nowhere. Nothing’s changed. I work for the king and I don’t get involved with his daughter.”
She dropped her arms to her sides. “You need to find some new material,” she told him. “This same story is getting old.” She turned on her heel and headed for the palace, then paused.
“Oh, by the way, Jean-Paul has invited me to dinner and I accepted. I think you’ll need to dress formally.”
Rafe watched her go, her head high, her slender hips swaying gently. She was back in a temper. She’d also had the last word. Princess Zara…formally Zara Paxton, professor, was turning out to be more trouble than he’d imagined possible. And damned if he didn’t like every second of it.
Once she reached the palace, Zara headed for her room. Dozens of thoughts swirled through her brain, and she didn’t know what was going on. Life had certainly taken a turn for the interesting ever since she’d landed in Bahania. She’d been prepared to feel conflicted about meeting the stranger who might be her father, but she’d never thought she could have man trouble.
The Desert Rogues Part 1 Page 94
