When her brother had finished university and taken the prestigious opening at GeoTech Industries she’d thought her days of worrying about him had come to an end.
She’d been eighteen when their parents died and she’d been thrust into the role of parent. And she’d thought she’d done okay. But if Chad really had run off with the King’s sister... She rubbed at her bare forearms, chilled despite the humid warmth of the night air. She couldn’t take the King’s claim seriously. Chad just wouldn’t do something like that, she knew it. She knew him!
Sensing more than hearing a presence behind her, Regan slowly turned to find the man who had taken her captive standing in her living area. Her heart skipped a beat before taking off at a gallop. He looked magnificent in a white robe that enhanced his olive skin and blue eyes to perfection. He wasn’t wearing a headdress tonight, his black hair thick and a little mussed from where it looked as though he had dragged his fingers through it countless times during the day. The glow from the elaborate overhead chandeliers threw interesting light and shadows over his face, making him even more handsome than she remembered.
‘Miss James.’
Her name was like thick, rich treacle on his lips and she shivered, hiding her unwanted reaction by stepping forward. ‘So you’ve finally decided to show up,’ she grouched, instinct advising her that attack was the best form of defence with a man like this. ‘How kind of you.’
He gave her a faint smile. ‘I understand you’re not eating.’
A small thrill of satisfaction shot through her. So her self-imposed starvation had worked. ‘Yes. And I won’t until you release me.’
He shrugged one broad shoulder as if to say that his care factor couldn’t be lower. ‘That’s your choice. You won’t die.’
‘How do you know?’ she shot back.
‘It takes three weeks for a person to starve to death. You’re in no danger yet.’
Resenting his sense of superiority, Regan frowned as he clapped his hands together and two servants wheeled a dining cart into the room. One by one they set an array of platters on the dining table near the window.
‘Will that be all, Your Majesty?’
‘For now.’
Regan gave him a look as they bowed and exited the room. ‘Don’t expect that clapping trick to work with me,’ she warned. ‘I’m not one of your minions.’
His silky gaze drifted over her and she wished she were wearing more than a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. If she’d thought he might actually show up she’d have pulled a curtain from the wall and draped herself in it. Anything so that she didn’t feel so exposed.
‘No, that would take far more optimism than even I have for that to occur.’
He moved to the dining table and took a seat, inspecting the array of stainless-steel dishes the servers had laid out.
‘No matter what you say,’ she advised him, ‘I won’t eat.’
He gave her a long-suffering look. ‘Believe it or not, Miss James, I do not wish for you to have a bad experience during your stay in the palace. I even hoped that we might be...friends.’
‘Friends?’
He shrugged. ‘Acquaintances, then.’
Regan couldn’t have been more incredulous if he’d suggested they take a spaceship to Mars. ‘And you say you’re not optimistic.’ She scoffed. ‘The only thing I want from you is for you to release me.’
‘I can’t do that. I already told you that I will do whatever it takes to have my sister returned home safely.’
‘Just as I would do whatever it takes to have my brother returned home safely as well.’
He inclined his head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘On this we understand each other.’
Not wanting to have anything in common with the man, Regan set him straight. ‘What I understand is that you’re an autocratic, stubborn, overbearing tyrant.’
He didn’t respond to her litany of his faults and she narrowed her eyes as he uncovered the small platters of delicious-smelling food. His imperviousness to her only made her temper flare hotter.
Then her stomach growled, making her feel even more irritable. She watched him scoop up a dip with a piece of flatbread, his eyes on her the whole time. His tongue came out to lick at the corner of his mouth and a tremor went through her. ‘You look ridiculous when you eat,’ she lied. ‘Can’t you do that somewhere else?’
Expecting him to become angry with her, she was shocked when he laughed. ‘You know, your disposition might be improved if you stopped denying yourself your basic needs. Hunger strikes are very childish.’
Stung to be called childish, Regan stared down at him. ‘My disposition will only improve when you release me and stop saying awful things about my brother.’
His eyes narrowed when she mentioned Chad, but other than that he didn’t show an ounce of emotion; instead he scooped up more food with his fingers and tempted her with it.
Irritated, she thought about moving outside but then decided against it. If he was going to antagonise her she would do the same back.
‘You cannot think to stick with this plan,’ she said, wandering closer to him.
Curious blue eyes met hers. ‘What plan?’
‘The one to keep me here until my brother returns with your sister.’
He leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth with his napkin. As he regarded her Regan’s eyes drifted over the hard planes of his face, those slashing eyebrows and his surly, oh, so sinful mouth. He would photograph beautifully, she thought. All that dominant masculine virility just waiting to be harnessed... It gave a girl the shivers. She could picture him astride a horse, outlined against the desert dunes with the sun at his muscled back. Or asleep on soft rumpled sheets, his muscular arms supporting his head, his powerful thighs—
Regan frowned. Sometimes her creative side was a real pain.
‘Is that my plan?’ His deep voice held a smooth superiority that set her teeth on edge.
‘Well, obviously. But I already told you that I wouldn’t say anything about your sister being missing. I’m even willing to sign something to say that I won’t.’
‘But how do I know I can trust you?’
‘Because I’m a very trustworthy person. Call my boss. She’ll tell you. I never say anything I don’t mean or do anything I say I won’t.’
‘Admirable.’
‘Don’t patronise me.’ She gripped the back of the carved teak dining chair opposite him. The smell of something delicious wafted into her sinuses and she nearly groaned. ‘You’re really horrible, you know that?’
‘I’ve been called worse.’
‘I don’t doubt it. Oh...’ She clenched her aching stomach as it moaned again, and glared at him. ‘You did this on purpose, didn’t you?’
‘Did what?’ he asked innocently.
‘Brought food in here. You’re trying to make me so hungry that I’ll eat despite myself. Well, it won’t work.’ She glared into his sapphire-blue eyes. ‘You can’t break me.’
She wheeled away from the table, intending to spend the rest of the night in the garden until he left, but she didn’t make it two steps before he stopped her, wrapping his arm around her waist and hauling her against him.
Regan let out a cry of annoyance and banged her fists down on his forearms.
‘Stop doing that,’ she demanded. Already her skin felt hot, her unreliable senses urging her to turn in his arms and press up against him. ‘I hate it when you touch me.’
‘Then stop defying me,’ he grated in her ear, yanking the chair she’d just been gripping out from the table and dumping her in it.
‘You like doing that, don’t you?’ she accused, rubbing her bottom to erase the impression left behind from being welded to his hard stomach. ‘Using your brute strength to get what you want.’
He picked up his fork and pointed i
t at her. ‘Eat. Before I really lose my temper and ask the palace doctor to get a tube and feed you that way.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
The smile on his face said he would, and that he’d enjoy it.
‘I’m only doing this because now that I know you won’t let me go I’m going to need my strength to escape,’ she said, snatching up a delicate pastry from a silver platter and shoving it into her mouth. It dissolved with flaky deliciousness on her tongue, making her reach for another. She murmured appreciatively and blushed when she found him staring at her. ‘What?’ she grouched. ‘Isn’t this what you wanted all along?’
‘Yes.’ His voice was deep and low, and turned her insides to liquid.
Not wanting him to know just how much he affected her, she decided to take another tack. ‘This is preposterous, you know?’
He glanced at her. ‘The food? My chef will not be pleased to hear that.’
‘Keeping me here.’ She picked up her fork and stabbed at something delicious looking. ‘It’s the twenty-first century and you appear to be an educated man.’ Though that was popular opinion, not hers. ‘A ruler, for heaven’s sake. You can’t just impose your will on others whenever you feel like it.’
He gave a short bark of laughter. ‘Actually I can.’ He piled more food onto his plate. ‘And I am aware of the century. But in my country the King creates the laws, which pretty much gives me carte blanche to do what I want, whenever I want.’
‘That can’t be true.’ She frowned. ‘You must have checks and balances. A government of some sort.’
‘I have a cabinet that helps me govern, if that’s what you mean.’
‘And what’s their job? To rubber-stamp whatever you say?’
‘Not quite.’
‘They must be able to order you to let me go.’
‘Not quite.’
Completely exasperated, Regan put down her fork. ‘Look, you’re making a big mistake here. I know my brother is innocent.’
His eyes narrowed on hers. ‘We’ve had this conversation. Eat.’
‘I can’t. The conversation is killing my appetite.’
‘Then stop talking.’
‘God, you’re impossible. Tell me, what makes you think that my brother has taken your sister? Because it’s not something my brother would do. He’s not a criminal.’
‘He stole a car when he was sixteen and copies of his finals exams when he was seventeen.’
‘Both times the charges were dropped,’ she defended. ‘And how do you even know this? Those files are closed because he was a minor.’
He gave her a look and she rolled her eyes. ‘Right, you know everything.’ She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Chad got into the wrong crowd with the car thing and he stole the exam papers to sell them to help me out financially. We had a hot-water system to replace in our house and no money. He didn’t need to steal the exams for himself. He’s a straight-A student. Anyway, that’s a lot different from kidnapping someone,’ she shot at him.
‘To say that you’ve been kidnapped is a trifle dramatic. You came to my country of your own free will. Now you are being detained because you’re a threat to my sister’s security.’
‘I had nothing to do with your sister’s disappearance!’
‘No, but your brother did,’ he pointed out silkily, ‘and as you’ve already confirmed he has the capability for criminal activity.’
‘He was young and he was going through a hard time,’ she cried. ‘That doesn’t mean he’s a career criminal.’
‘Why was he having a hard time?’
‘I’m surprised you don’t know,’ she mumbled; ‘you seem to know everything else.’
He handed her a warm triangle of pastry. ‘I know that your parents both died of cancer seven weeks apart. Is that what you’re referring to?’
‘Yes.’ Emotion tightened her chest. ‘Chad was only fourteen at the time. It hit him hard and he didn’t really grieve properly... I think it caught up with him.’
‘That must have been hard to have both parents struck down by such a terrible disease. I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you.’ She shook her head and bit into the food he’d handed her, closing her eyes at the exquisite burst of flavours on her tongue. ‘This is delicious. What is it?’
‘It is called a bureek, a common delicacy in our region.’ He frowned as he dragged his eyes up from her mouth. ‘Who looked after the two of you when your parents died?’
‘I was eighteen,’ she said, unconsciously lifting her chin. ‘I deferred my photography studies, got a job and took care of us both.’
He frowned. ‘You had no other family who could take you in?’
‘We had grandparents who lived across the country, and an aunt and uncle we saw on occasion, but they only had room for Chad and neither one of us wanted to be parted.’
His blue eyes studied her for a long time, then he handed her another morsel of food. She took it, completely unprepared for his next words. ‘I lost my father when I was nineteen.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said instinctively. She missed her parents every day and her heart went out to him. ‘How did he die?’
‘He was killed in a helicopter crash.’
‘Oh that’s awful. What happened to you?’
‘I became King.’
‘At nineteen? But that’s so young.’
He handed her another type of pastry. ‘I was born to lead. For me it wasn’t an issue.’
Wasn’t an issue?
Regan stared at him. He might say it wasn’t an issue but she knew how hard it was to take on the responsibility of one brother, let alone an entire country. ‘It couldn’t have been easy. Did you have time to mourn him at least?’
She noticed a flicker of surprise behind his steady gaze. ‘I was studying in America when his light aircraft went down. By the time I arrived home the country was in turmoil. There were things to be done. Try the manakeesh.’ He indicted the food she forgot she was holding. ‘I think you’ll like it.’
That would be a no, then, she thought, biting into a delicious mixture of bread, spice and mince. His slight grin told her he knew that she’d enjoyed it. She shook her head, trying to make sense of their conversation.
He might sound as if he were talking about little more than a walk in the park, but Regan could tell by the slight tightening of the skin around his eyes that his father’s death had affected him very deeply. ‘How old was your sister at the time?’
‘My sister was eight.’ He tore off a piece of flatbread and dipped it in a dark purple dip. ‘My brother was sixteen.’ He handed her the bread.
‘You have a brother?’
‘Rafa. He lives in England. The baba ganoush is good, yes?’
‘Yes, it’s delicious.’ She licked a remnant of the dip from the corner of her mouth, frowning when she realised what he was doing. ‘Why are you feeding me?’
His piercing gaze met hers. ‘I like feeding you.’
Something happened to the air between them because suddenly Regan found it hard to draw breath. She reached for her water glass. Their conversation had taken on a deeply personal nature and it was extremely disconcerting.
‘I can’t stay here,’ she husked. For one thing, she needed to find Chad, and for another...for another, this man affected her on levels she didn’t even know she had and she had no idea what to do about it.
‘You have no proof that my brother did anything wrong.’
His gaze became shuttered. ‘That topic of conversation is now closed.’
Agitated, Regan stared at him. ‘Not until you tell me what makes you so certain Chad has taken your sister.’
Leaning back in his chair, he took so long to answer her she didn’t think that he would. ‘We have CCTV footage of them together and after she’d gone my sister left a mess
age on my voicemail informing me that she was with a friend.’
Regan frowned. ‘That hardly sounds like someone who has been taken against her will.’
‘Milena is due to marry a very important man next month. She would not have put all of that at stake if she wasn’t forced to do so.’
‘Maybe she doesn’t want to marry him any more.’
A muscle jumped in the King’s jaw. ‘She agreed to the marriage and she would never shirk her duties. Ever.’
His sister might have agreed, Regan mused silently, but having to marry out of duty would make most women think twice. ‘Does she love the important man she’s going to marry?’
‘Love is of no importance in a royal marriage agreement.’
‘Okay.’ Regan thought love was important in any marriage agreement. ‘I’ll take that as a no.’
‘You can take it any way you want,’ he ground out. ‘Love is an emotional concept and does not belong in the merger of two great houses.’
‘Merger? You make it sound like a business proposition.’
‘That is as good a way of looking at it as any.’
‘It’s also harsh. What about affection? Mutual respect? What about passion?’
She had no idea where that last had come from—she’d meant to say love.
His gaze narrowed in on her mouth and a hot tide of colour stung her cheeks. ‘Those things can come later. After the marriage is consummated.’
‘That’s provided you marry someone nice,’ Regan pointed out. ‘What if this important man is horrible to her?’
‘The Crown Prince of Toran will not be horrible to my sister or he will have me to answer to.’
‘That’s all well and good in principle, but it doesn’t mean your sister wants it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my family, but when it comes to marriage I’d like to choose my own husband. Most women would.’
‘And what would you choose?’ His voice was deep and mocking. ‘Money? Power? Status?’
His questions made Regan feel sorry for him. Clearly he’d met some shallow women in his time, which went some way to explaining his attitude. ‘That is such a cynical point of view,’ she replied. ‘But no, those things wouldn’t make my top three.’
Bound to Her Desert Captor Page 5
