Desert Destiny

by Sarah Holland

  ‘Fitting?’ he ground out, eyes dangerous. ‘Fitting to taunt me with what I cannot have! Sheba, you push me to the very limits of my self-control! The sooner you leave this palace and my life—the better!’

  He turned on his heel, striding angrily away from her. He was walking out! She couldn’t let him go! Not with that black emotion in his eyes—a blackness that could be pain!

  ‘Wait!’ she cried hoarsely, running after him. ‘Wait, Suliman—don’t go like this! Not when I—!’

  ‘You want my self-control to break again, do you?’ he bit out violently, turning on her, eyes blazing. ‘As it broke this afternoon? You want me to destroy what little dignity we both have left.’ His mouth shook. ‘I am your king!’ He breathed harshly. ‘Do not push me to another display of barbaric fury!’

  That’s not what I want!’ she said urgently, her courage growing. ‘I only want to talk. That’s all. I want you to stay and dine with me, as arranged—so we can talk.’

  The time for talk is over!’ he said thickly. ‘Everything has been said! You wish to end our marriage and leave this place. Very well—all arrangements are being made. But do not ask for talk, Sheba, for I have nothing to say to you!’

  He wrenched open the door.

  ‘No!’ she cried hoarsely, and gripped his arm with possessive fingers. ‘No…you can’t end it like this! Not like this, Suliman…please!’

  ‘It ends as it ends!’ he said under his breath. ‘And I cannot stand to see you like this!’ His eyes burned over her suddenly, his voice roughening as he said thickly, ‘Sheba incarnate. My destiny, my queen, my love. Your body is more beautiful than it has ever appeared to me. Your face…” His eyes flicked up, saw the shock in hers, and flashed with fury, his mouth tightening to a white line as he bit out, ‘Go back to the West! Go back to your gaoler! Go back to everything that is false! I was wrong to bring you here!’

  ‘No, Suliman,’ she whispered hoarsely, ‘you were right to bring me!’

  ‘I was wrong and I have paid the price!’ he bit out. ‘I thought you wanted me. I thought you wanted everything I could give you, but I was a fool!’ His eyes blazed and he said thickly, ‘And now it is over. Goodbye, Sheba. May the West bring you everything you dream of, for I know now you will not find it here.’

  He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Bethsheba stood, shaking and dazed, staring at the closed door as tears stung her eyes and threatened to spill out over her lashes. His words were spinning in her mind, turning blindly as she sifted the pride and arrogance and hatred to find love.

  He could love me, she thought, trembling with passion. He could, and I must not let him go.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘SULIMAN!’ Bethsheba cried, wrenching open the door. ‘Suliman!’

  He was turning the corner, and his footsteps echoed alongside her passionate cry, but he did not turn. Bethsheba almost crumbled, leaning against the wall, her hot face cool on the stone as she fought for strength.

  If he did not love her she would humiliate herself. But if he did—if there was a chance, just a chance that he was as much in love with her as she was with him, then she had to fight for him.

  But what if he only wants Sheba? she thought, tears burning her eyes. A golden statue to keep prisoner at his palace? How could she bear a life like that? With a man she loved?

  And if she went back to the West? Her heart sank like a stone at the prospect. Oh, the loneliness of that life! The grim recording hours, the airlessness and lovelessness, and the endless hard grind of touring in buses and hotels and fast food on the road.

  Here, with Suliman, she would have the love she so badly needed. Here she would have the love of a king, a king she loved desperately. She would have a baby to nurture, a kingdom to rule over, a desert to be free in, horses to ride…and a jet to fly her back to the West whenever she wanted to go.

  Bethsheba ran along the corridor. Where had he gone? She was breathless, her eyes searching fran- tically for Suliman, but he was nowhere to be seen, and her fear made her weak as she began to doubt that violent emotion in his voice and the black pain in his eyes.

  He was a proud man, though. A king. A warrior. He would never show weakness by telling her of his feelings—not unless he was completely sure of hers.

  And how could he be sure of her feelings? She had kept them hidden! At every turn of events, every moment she had spent with him, her will had been concentrated so hard on appearing nonchalant.

  So if Suliman cared anything for her—of course he would hide it! His pride would demand it, and Sheikh Suliman El Khazir was nothing if not a proud and noble ruler.

  That only left one option—she would have to tell him.

  Determination strengthened her. She resolved to open every door until she found Suliman, even if it took her all night in this damned great city of a palace.

  She opened doors. Her red sandals click-clacked as she ran from kitchens, to bedrooms, to dining-rooms. There were women’s quarters scented with musk and oleander. There were rooms of cushions and music and idle chatter.

  Suddenly she pushed open a door and saw Suliman.

  In the open doorway, she stared at him, and he looked up from where he sat in the dark leather chair, his hands filled with papers from a white silk box.

  He stood up angrily and the box crashed to the floor.

  Out spilled the photographs, the Press clippings, Bethsheba’s face and name emblazoned on headlines from a thousand different magazines and newspapers.

  Slowly, she raised her stunned eyes to his face.

  ‘Get out!’ Suliman bit out through white lips. ‘Get out! Do you think I want you here?’

  ‘I’m in love with you!’ Bethsheba whispered hoarsely.

  The silence was thick with emotion. Suliman was rigid with pride and disbelief, the Press clippings scattered at his feet and anger blazing in his dark eyes as his last and greatest secret was exposed.

  ‘I’m in love with you!’ Bethsheba said again. ‘I don’t care why you took me or how it happened or when I fell…I only know I’m in love with you, and that I can’t leave.’

  ‘Get out!’ he said thickly, and turned his back on her.

  She winced, staring, unable to reply.

  ‘Why do you just stand there?’ Suliman bit out under his breath. ‘Does it please you to know how completely I am yours? To know I have been in love with you from the very beginning?’

  ‘Suliman——’

  ‘You have seen my Press clippings of you! You have seen my love and my obsession!’ His eyes blazed. ‘Now you have your triumph, Bethsheba! But I do not have to tolerate your presence for a second longer!’ He lifted his head arrogantly. ‘Go! Go on—get out!’

  ‘I can’t go,’ she said shakily. ‘I love you!’

  ‘Ha! This morning you called me a barbarian and demanded your freedom! Now you love me!’

  ‘This morning I believed you were indifferent to me!’

  ‘This morning you did not know I had a jet!’

  Bethsheba’s eyes blazed fierce gold. ‘You lied to me about yourself!’

  ‘I omitted to tell you,’ he bit out. ‘That’s not the same thing.’

  ‘It is to me!’ Her mouth quivered. ‘I felt as though you only wanted my body! Do you know how that feels to a woman? I’ll tell you—it feels painful! It feels isolating! It feels horribly, horribly lonely!’

  The dark lashes flickered on his hard cheek-bones. ‘How could you think that? You knew I was prepared to fight armies in order to bring you here!’

  ‘But I didn’t know that at all, Suliman!’ She took a step towards him. ‘I didn’t. I—I felt so hurt. I felt so frightened for the future. Particularly this morning when you were so cruel. And last night when you said love was the plaything of Western vanity.’

  ‘What did you expect me to say?’ he demanded tightly. ‘That I was hopelessly in love with you?’

  Her breath caught and she reached out a hand. ‘Suliman…!’


  ‘No!’ he said thickly, angry suspicion in his eyes. ‘Do not reach for me now! If love truly existed in your heart, you would have shown it this morning—after I had made love to you.’

  ‘But I was afraid to!’ she protested hoarsely. ‘I woke up married to a man I barely knew. A man who repeatedly told me he only wanted sex from me. A man who had hidden half his true nature from me, leaving me with only guesswork and fear to go on.’

  He stared, his face tense. Then he looked away, mouth hardening, and muttered roughly, ‘How can I believe you? It seems so improbable!’

  ‘Yet it is when something is most improbable that it becomes a real possibility,’ she said urgently, watching his face. ‘The likelihood of someone’s being right increases with the amount of people trying to prove him wrong.’

  Suliman gave a hard smile. ‘You are persuasive, Sheba, but——’

  ‘It’s improbable that you’ve followed my career for so long,’ she pointed out huskily, heart thumping. ‘Improbable that we should have shared so much without my realising you knew who I was all along.’

  The dark eyes flicked to hers. ‘I could not let you see. It would have destroyed the beauty of our shared world.’

  ‘I understand that, my darling!’ she said as tears stung her eyes. ‘And I’m glad I found out now—at the last minute.’

  ‘Why?’ he asked sharply. ‘Because it makes you feel——?’

  ‘It makes me feel our marriage could really work,’ she said quickly, ‘just as finding out about the Western side of your nature makes me believe our marriage was…meant to be.’

  His head came up sharply to stare at her.

  ‘Now I know,’ she said, ‘that you could share my world with as much love as I now share yours.’

  He stiffened, his face hard. ‘How do I know you really mean that?’

  ‘Suliman, trust your instincts.’

  He watched her, dark eyes intense.

  ‘Did you know I was in Tangier?’ Bethsheba asked. ‘Was this planned from the very beginning?’

  ‘No.’ He shook his dark head. ‘But I recognised you as I rode up that day. I recognised you and— and saw the excitement in your eyes as you saw me.’

  She flushed, smiling. ‘And that was the moment you decided to kidnap me?’

  ‘No.’ His black lashes flickered. ‘It was later. When you came to sing for me.’

  Bethsheba smiled and in the silence he studied her. Then he started to walk towards her. Her heart skipped with hope, but she stayed where she was, not daring to move until he told her he loved her. Oh, please let him love me, she thought wildly. Please let him love me—we’re so close now…so close to true love.

  ‘I fed you honeyed bees and fantasies,’ Suliman said softly, watching her face, ‘fantasies I suspected you shared. And you glowed with excitement, my love! You came alive under the sway of temptation! I could see the love of the desert in your eyes—the love of adventure and excitement and freedom!’

  ‘I wanted this so much!’ she said hoarsely. ‘I couldn’t believe I was actually face to face with a real sheikh!’

  ‘So,’ he said under his breath, ‘you fell for my image too?’

  Her mouth went dry. She had to be truthful. ‘At first…yes! You looked so sexy in your desert robes, Suliman!’

  He laughed softly, and one hand cupped her face. ‘And you wanted me to abduct you? To take you on horseback to my douar and make passionate love to you?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘You wanted me to take you back to the childhood you have never been able to forget!’

  Her heart almost burst with emotion. ‘Suliman, I love you!’ she said hoarsely.

  ‘My darling!’ he murmured, and swept her into his arms, holding her close, pressing her face against his dark throat. ‘I’ve loved you forever! From the moment I saw your face, to this moment of revelation!’

  ‘Oh, Suliman!’ Her arms were around his neck, holding him close enough to drown in the familiar masculine scent of him. ‘Would you really have let me go? Would you really have put me on that plane!’

  ‘With the greatest reluctance, my love,’ he said thickly, crushing her to him, ‘but yes—I would have done it!’

  She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by how nearly she had lost him.

  ‘I couldn’t have kept you here against your will,’ he said deeply, ‘however desperate I felt not to lose you. It would have been inhuman of me…monstrous…an affront to liberty.’

  ‘Yet you felt no such compunction when you first kidnapped me,’ she said huskily, ‘and I’m glad!’

  ‘I knew as soon as I had you here—my bride, my love, my lover—as soon as you knew the truth about my life and my love for you…’ he drew back to study her with lazy, arrogant charm ‘…I knew you could not fail to love me!’

  She laughed in delight at his arrogance. ‘Did you indeed?’

  He laughed too. ‘I knew you would love me. I knew it.’ The smile faded from his dark eyes. ‘But that is why I lost control this afternoon. That is why I made love to you so brutally on the desk. The pain went so deep, Sheba. And the sense of loss was overwhelming. I—could not accept what was happening. That I had brought you here, made you my queen, made love to you under terrible pressures of self-control. Watching your arousal, feeling it, being a part of it—I was on the brink of ecstasy all the time, yet fighting not to lose control until you had. And then…’ his eyes darkened ‘…then you rejected me. You rejected me and everything I had given you. I could barely stop myself tearing the bedroom down around your ears with cries of rage and——’

  ‘Don’t!’ she whispered, holding his strong shoulders. ‘Don’t remind me of my own terrible pain this morning.’

  He studied her in silence for a moment, then said deeply, ‘I never guessed for an instant that your rejection of me hid such love.’ His hand stroked the blonde hair back from her face. ‘I have never loved a woman as I love you. You are everything I am myself—except in a woman.’

  ‘And you are everything I am myself—except in a man,’ she said with a smile lighting her eyes.

  ‘My warrior queen!’ he said under his breath, and then his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that made her moan with delight, her fingers shaking as they pushed into his thick black hair, her mouth opening beneath his passionately as their bodies swayed.

  When he dragged his mouth from hers many moments later, she struggled to breathe, her heart thumping like mad as she met those passionate dark eyes with answering hunger.

  ‘I will see you queen beside me!’ Suliman said roughly. ‘I will see my son grow and ripen in your belly! I will see you in ecstasy in my bed for the rest of my life!’

  ‘Suliman, I love you!’ she said hoarsely, and pressed her mouth against his in a kiss that made him emit a rough sound of passion under his breath before kissing the life out of her.

  ‘How soon can you send for your things?’ he asked thickly as he drew back. ‘I want you in residence with me wherever I go. If anything of yours needs to be brought here——’

  ‘I don’t know!’ she said huskily. ‘I must contact Chris, though, and let him know I’m safe. That’s an important——’

  ‘Do not worry,’ Suliman said deeply, ‘we will fly to Tangier together tomorrow, tell him of our marriage and see what he is prepared to accept in settlement of your contract.’

  She studied him, uncertain. ‘Settlement of my contract?’

  ‘Unless you wish to continue with it,’ Suliman said, dark brows lifting.

  ‘You mean—you’d accept that if I wanted to?’

  ‘But of course!’ he said at once. ‘I do not wish to strangle your creativity! You are an artist, and will always need that outlet. I merely suggested settlement because you led me to believe you were bored with that world.’

  ‘Well, I am,’ she admitted, ‘but—but I don’t want to lose it altogether.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, smiling, ‘and I will be proud of my wife, be she queen or warrio
r or songbird or seductress or——’ he laughed softly, his hand moving slowly down to touch her silken belly ‘—or mother to my sons!’

  Her eyes closed with rapture at the thought, then fear struck her heart and she asked quickly, ‘Suliman—this Sheba. Is her legend the real reason for your love? I mean——’

  ‘How can you even think it?’ he said harshly, ‘when it was the excuse I used to keep you with me when you would have run?’

  ‘But it’s true, isn’t it? I mean—I do look like her and——’

  ‘You look very much like her,’ he cut in, ‘but it is not the reason I fell in love with you. The power of Sheba is no greater to us than the power of legend in the West. You would not, for instance, sit and dream of St George in England. Yet when you meet your love the image of the knight astride his white horse is powerful indeed.’

  ‘So it really is just me?’ she asked huskily. ‘Me you love?’

  ‘Bethsheba, I feel love for you. What do I feel for a statue of gold and a legend written on paper so that it crumbles to the touch? No; I used Sheba as the excuse I needed to keep you with me. I could hardly tell you how much I wanted you, how fascinated I had been by you when I saw you in the Press.’ He laughed, shaking his head. ‘On the cover of Paris Match, and I read the article in a café on the Place d’Étoile! On the cover of Life magazine—and I read the article in the Oak Room of the Plaza, New York.’

  ‘Darling…!’

  He smiled down at her. ‘I knew I would one day meet you. It was just a question of when.’

  Bethsheba almost burst with pride, then said, ‘But the part of her legend about her birth…that she was born in a goat-hair tent in Arabia and——’

  ‘It is true,’ he said deeply, unsmiling.

  There was a little silence.

  ‘Oh…then you didn’t make it up?’ she asked huskily. ‘You didn’t get it from my Press clippings and——’

  ‘No, I did not!’ he said with cool arrogance. ‘If you have read your own Press coverage you will know that Bahrain is the only detail of your birth that is mentioned.’

  Destiny vibrated in the air between them and Bethsheba shivered. ‘You mean it could be true?’