The Desert Lord’s Bride

by Olivia Gates

  She gave a huge sob, launched herself at his legs, hugged them. “Oh, Shehab, if you want to avenge me, you just did. More fully and fantastically than you can ever know. Just forget him, or you’ll make me scared to tell you anything from now on.”

  He looked down on her, grappling with aggression, with the raging emotions at seeing her like this, at his feet, the cover pooling on her thighs and exposing the sweep of her graceful back and flared hips in a pose out of his deepest erotic fantasies. He felt his turmoil leveling as his aching eyes glided over the luxurious waterfall of her sun-kissed hair cascading between his rigid thighs, her lips almost buried in his erection.

  He took all he could then snapped, sank to his knees before her, hauled her to him, mingled her with his limbs and lips.

  He came up from the endless kiss, looked down at her as she lay in his arms, her eyes drugged, her trembling hands pushing his abaya off, exposing him to her hunger.

  She started talking again as she pushed him to his back, to start the exploration she’d claimed a right to, one of the events he now lived for. “But this guy was right about one thing. I did experiment with physical intimacy after him…” He stiffened, and she soothed him. “I didn’t go beyond kisses, with good-looking men I found nice enough, agendas and all. I’d decided to go in with my eyes open and have fun. I thought if the kisses went well, I’d go further.” He started to growl and she dipped her tongue into his navel. “I hated the first’s scent and taste. The second’s voice, his breathing, the noises he made in his throat made me want to slap him. With the third, when I found myself thinking when I can get this over with so I can go back to that donut I was eating, I knew Dan was right about me being unable to enjoy physical intimacy.” He came off the bed when she buried her face in his erection, inhaled him, moaning long in enjoyment. Then she raised her head and looked him straight in the eyes. And her eyes. Ya Ullah, her eyes.

  This was Farah, letting him see into the very depths of her heart and soul. Then she told him.

  “But I realize now I can’t feel physical passion without an emotional one. And that’s why you’ll always be the only one to ignite and pleasure me. Because I love you.”

  Everything ceased. To matter. Ceased, period.

  Because I love you.

  He stared at her, paralyzed under the onslaught of every contradictory emotion in existence. She loved him. Loved him.

  And she was taking his hand, her trembling lips burying in its spasticity, her eyes glittering with so many emotions, he felt inundated. “I loved you at first sight, and I’ve been falling deeper every moment since.”

  Was this how necrosis struck in someone’s heart? With emotions that actually generated damaging heat, like a laser? Could he have been blessed by so much, the love of this incomparable woman, her total trust…when he deserved none of it?

  But no. He deserved it. For she’d seen through the thin layer of manipulation to the emotions that had blossomed toward her unchecked, unstoppable from the first, every spark of it true. That was what had made her fall in love with him. She’d been reciprocating his feelings.

  And though he felt he deserved to lose her in atonement for how he’d led her on, how he still couldn’t confess everything, since it wasn’t only his life or fate in the balance, he had to reach out and take all she offered. And she was offering her all. And he needed it all to live, to exist. He would throw his own need at her feet.

  He slipped off the bed, pulled her to its edge until he had her sitting up, then kneeled between her legs. He wanted to pour it all out. But he couldn’t. He was overcome. She had overcome him. He lowered his head to her knee, reiterating her name raggedly, as if in deepest prayer.

  She cried out, tried to pull his head up, her fingers trembling in his hair. He put his on top of hers, pressed them to his head, showed her he wanted to be cradled in her lap, needed to be held to her heart, surrounded by her generosity, blessed by her love.

  And his magnanimous Farah complied, hugging and hugging him, spilling hot love and tears all over his face and hands.

  “Please-” she hiccupped “-don’t make me sorry I told you. Don’t feel as if you owe me anything. I know how honorable you are, and I’d die if I made you feel bad, or compromised. I knew what I was doing, and I never expected anything in return. I’m just happy I’m normal, that I found you, a man who deserves my total trust and love. When it ends, I’ll go on knowing I experienced true fulfillment. That for once I had what my name proclaims me to be. Joy. You gave me that, and I’ll always cherish the memory of our times together.”

  He stared up at her, struck at the horror of what he’d inflicted on her. She might have subconsciously felt his emotions, but she’d been unable to believe they existed. And she still hadn’t protected herself at all. She’d given him all of herself, trusted him, expecting nothing, believing she’d have nothing of him in return, convincing herself the morsels he’d given her so far would be enough.

  He surged, clamped his lips over hers, unable to bear one more word. “B’Ellahi, ya habibati, er’ruhmuh…have mercy, my love. Ahebbek, ya farah hayati, aabodek, I love you, joy of my life, I worship you. It’s I who loved you on sight, who wanted everything to be perfection for you, wanted to give you time to know me as I prayed you might come to feel a fraction of what I feel for you. You own my heart, by right of being the first to ever wake it. You own my body and life, by right of offering yours for them. And now you own my soul by right of giving me your essence in all selflessness. But you say you don’t expect anything of me. Does this mean you don’t want it? Won’t you take it, when I offer it? Everything that I am? Will you not make me complete, give life reason and texture and purpose? Will you not marry me?”

  Farah had gone still with his first words, her eyes, those emerald heavens like pools in an earthquake, their waters welling, shaking in place. When his heart emptied of blood and wouldn’t fill again, silencing him, she gasped as if she’d been underwater, was coming up for a life-saving breath. Then the pools of her eyes turned to rivers, and her face shuddered out of control with jubilation and disbelief. And finally, belief.

  And he was in her arms, crushed to her breasts, surrounded by her delirium and joy and the absoluteness of her love.

  And she sobbed it all to him, the one thing he craved to hear, her happiness as she consented. “Yes, yes…yes, yes, I’ll be your wife, I’ll be with you always…” She withdrew, her eyes wide with wonder and love so fierce it was painful. “Oh, God, you really love me.”

  He reared up, spread her on the bed, came over her. “Ana aashagek-I…I…there’s no word for it. Esh’g is a concept that has no equivalent in English, more selfless than love, carnal as fiercest lust and as reverent as worship and as impossible to shake. I always thought it part of the innate hyperbole of my culture. But it isn’t, it’s the one thing that approximates how I feel for you, about you, with you. Aasahagek. Enti mashoogati. What I feel, and what you are to me.”

  She melted beneath him, nerveless, overwhelmed. “It’s too much…oh, darling, too much…”

  He consumed her gasps, drained her tears. “Nothing will ever be too much for you, everything I have or do or feel or am is yours. Enti rohi, hayati…my soul and life…”

  She arched beneath him, in a fever, opening her legs around him, clamping them high on his back. “Please, my love, I can’t take anymore…just take me when I know it’s in love this time. Love me, let me love you…”

  He stroked into her, invaded her, surrendered, and that was all it took to bring them to ecstasy. This time, when he jetted his seed into her womb, he roared his love. And he was freed, free, completed, complete.

  “Of course I know it’s been six weeks…” Farah bit her lip as she put the phone away from her ear at the tirade that exploded on the other end. “Bill, will you calm down?” She raised her voice into the mouthpiece before venturing to put the receiver to her ear again. “I will do the analysis today, promise.” She paused, and Shehab couldn�
��t hold back anymore, walked to her, swept her up in his arms, took her to the couch, sat down with her on his lap, smoothed her, soothed her. She gave him a look that was a cross between gratitude at his solicitude and aggravation at Bill’s fit. Then she finally exhaled. “OK, OK, Bill. Don’t give yourself another coronary. I’ll come back. As soon as I can arrange it.”

  She ended the call, looked up at him, apologetic.

  He only growled. “You don’t have to take orders from him anymore. As my wife you can buy him out a dozen times over.”

  A look of bliss came over her face the moment he said wife. She melted in his arms, memories of their tempestuous, magical night written in her expression, fusing his insides with love and longing for a continuation.

  She came up from another surrender to their deepening bond, gasping, and chiding him. “First of all, I’m not marrying you for access to your limitless funds and power. Second, this isn’t about money. Bill is sort of the only friend I have, and he needs me.”

  He grappled with the need to tell her to let Bill go to hell. “I accept and understand that.” And he did. He knew he was enough for her, but if others enriched her life in any way, struck an extra ray of happiness in her heart, he’d cherish them, too, do everything so she’d have them in her life. But…“He won’t raise his voice to you again, though, or he’ll suffer.”

  “Oh, he’s just all bark. With me, at least. In fact, he’s sort of comforting. Dad used to be the same, and it’s sort of nostalgic having a father figure with the same audio effects.”

  “You keep stopping me from defending you, with all this misguided compassion.” She started to protest and he only kissed her. “And though it aggravates me, since I can’t let my wrath loose on all who’ve ever given you a moment’s discomfort, it’s one of the endless things I love about you.”

  “Oh, do you think you can arrange for me to have a list of those, in writing?” He gave her a hard, long kiss, swearing he’d arrange for her to have the moon if she only wished for it. She pulled back, panting. “So you’ll arrange for me to go back to L.A.?”

  Shehab’s heart convulsed with trepidation. After the enchantment of the past six weeks, confessing their love had catapulted them to a higher level, one that kept getting higher with each moment of knowledge of each other’s love. And he dreaded the least change. But how could he deny her?

  He couldn’t. He’d always give her anything before she even wished for it. “You think I’d send you back alone?”

  She jumped in his arms, whooping in delight. “You’ll come with me?”

  “To the ends of the earth, to hell and back, or even if there was no return ticket. So what’s a tiny skip to L.A.?”

  The tiny, twenty-hour skip, reprising their memorable flight from L.A. to his island, was the reverse of everything that had taken place then. While then they’d spent it talking, and strictly outside the bedroom, this time they headed there the moment they boarded and didn’t come up for breath all through the flight.

  But through the sensual delirium and emotional overload, Shehab felt anxiety and the need to pour out everything he was withholding from her, everything that was eating at him.

  Yet he’d look at her, see and feel her adoration and bliss, and have his purpose defeated again and again. How could he cloud this perfection by bringing up the charade that had started it all? How could he cause her pain and disillusion if only for moments, before she believed she’d long stopped being an instrument for securing the throne of Judar?

  It was only as he finally watched her walking into her work-place, turning every two steps to wave at him, that he knew.

  He couldn’t put it off any longer.

  As soon as he saw her again, he would divulge his identity, confess the whole truth, beg her forgiveness for the deception that had ceased to be one almost from the start.

  And his magnanimous Farah would forgive him.

  She turned around one more time before she disappeared behind the mirrored glass of the skyscraper’s entrance, blew him a kiss. He caught it, pressed it in both his hands to his lips, before taking it to his heart, where it took it and soared.

  Yes. He’d confess, and she’d forgive and forget.

  Then their lives would truly begin.

  Ten

  Farah floated all the way up to Bill’s office. She smiled left and right at all the people she knew or didn’t know. She even skipped as she passed Bill’s sedate personal assistant. She didn’t wait for anyone to announce her arrival, just sailed through his door.

  She found him at his desk, his elbows resting on it, his head between his hands.

  And all the jubilation that had been bubbling over inside her since Shehab had kneeled at her feet stilled. Besides Shehab, Bill was the strongest person she’d ever known. No matter what blows he sustained, personally or professionally, he weathered them all without any outward indication of pain or weakness. Now he looked spent, defeated.

  She rushed over to him, and he raised a bruised gaze. “Your lover brought you back promptly, I see. Do you know who he is?”

  She started at his harshness. So he knew why she’d taken the sabbatical. Figured. Bill would find out anything he put his mind to. But why was he glaring at her? Was he worried she might have divulged vital information about him during pillow talk? She had to put his mind to rest at once.

  “Yes, of course I do, but…”

  His harsh sigh cut across her qualification. “Lord, I wasn’t ready for this, even though I knew you were bound to change your mind about sleeping with men. And who better than this man, eh? Sleeping with him serves so many purposes.”

  Farah’s discomfort metamorphosed gradually into confusion. Was something wrong with Bill? He was making no sense.

  And he went on, making less and less sense. “Perhaps the world is telling me something, that I should admit it was me who pushed Stella away. But if I’ve had enough, got over the rage and heartache, maybe it’s time to see if she’s learned her lesson, too.” He glared at her again, his eyes blazing blue in his florid face. “But why didn’t you confide in me? Though I’m floored that, for once in your personal life, you’ve made one move that’s good business-in this case, the best business-I would have understood. Hell, I would have given you pointers.”

  “OK, I’m calling your doctor. You’re talking gibberish.”

  Bill sighed. “Who thought you’d have the sense to test-drive Judar’s crown prince before consenting to marry him? These royal Middle Eastern marriages are forever, after all. But from your blind expression as you walked in, seems you found Shehab Aal Masood’s sexual prowess…satisfying, to say the least.”

  The world stopped. Became a vacuum.

  It seemed hours later when it restarted with a screech and air tore into lungs that had collapsed with shock.

  “You think Shehab is…” She coughed the hysterical giggle of someone who’d just escaped being hit by a bus. “But I can see how. The crown prince’s name is Shehab, too, huh? Guess it must be a popular name. Likening their sons to the grandeur and destruction of meteors must appeal to those desert lords. But Shehab’s last name is Aal Ajman. He’s the tycoon who-”

  “I know exactly who he is. The tycoon who seemed to come out of nowhere three months ago. Aal Ajman is his mother’s family. I bet he didn’t think I’d investigate that when he created his alter ego…” He stopped, rose slowly to his feet, a tide of rage advancing over his face as everything seemed to fall in place in his mind. At the same moment it did in hers. “But I wasn’t his target with the deception, neither was the business world at large. You were. You refused to marry him, so he decided to con you…” He stopped again, horror replacing rage on his face. Or was it only a reflection of the one on hers?

  But there was no horror inside her. Realizations too atrocious to register, to take in, bombarded her, like the meteors Shehab was named for. And like a meteor shower, they left only annihilation in their wake. The nothingness of wreckage.

  Sh
ehab. He was not the man she thought she knew to the farthest reaches of intimacy. He was the prince her newfound father had said she must marry. The one she’d refused to even hear about. She’d thought she had a choice. But she’d had none. He’d hunted her down to have her rescind her refusal, relinquish her will, surrender her heart and soul, her life. Things he had no use for. He’d been talking about himself when he’d described how Dan had manipulated her, taken from her, when he’d reviled the gift she’d made of herself.

  She’d felt his exploitation that first night, too. She’d just been too ignorant to suspect its truth, then too eager to disbelieve her senses and believe his coaxing.

  How he must have hated to perform for her benefit, how he must have loathed every second in her company, must be seething with impatience until he could discard the pawn he’d been forced to cater to, to make her obey his tribal laws.

  She suddenly heard her voice, the distorted sound of a zombie. “I want a favor, Bill. I want to use your helicopter.”

  Bill’s eyes narrowed. “He’s waiting downstairs for you. You don’t want to see him.”

  “No. Never again.”

  He exhaled heavily, nodded, reached for his intercom. His hand froze over the button. “You’ll let me know where you are.” She gave a sluggish nod. He persisted. “And you won’t hurt yourself…in any way.”

  She looked at him out of someone else’s dry-as-stone eyes and wondered how he’d even worry.

  How could she hurt a self that had already been destroyed?