Better. Much better. Damn, what he’d give for a shower.
His eyes fell on the pitcher and basin that stood on a small table in the far corner. One quick glance at Megan. Yes, she was still sleeping. Quickly Caz unbuttoned his shirt, unzipped his trousers, kicked off his leather boots, stripped down to his skin. He took a mouthful of the water—God, it was cold—and spat it into the basin. Then he gritted his teeth, raised the pitcher and dumped the contents over his head.
God!
His teeth banged together like castanets; he shuddered from his head straight down to his toes, but the coffee, sugar and icy water combined did the trick. He was stone cold sober and the pain in his head was almost—almost—bearable.
He dressed quickly, wishing he could put on stuff that didn’t bear the lingering scent of the rotgut he’d had to swallow to convince Ahmet it wouldn’t be wise to screw with him. Going toe to toe, matching him drink for drink, had been the only way to deal with the ugly son of a bitch.
Caz ran his hands through his wet hair, shoving it back from his face.
Okay. He was as ready as he’d ever be. It was time to wake Megan and explain the devil’s bargain he’d made.
He made his way quietly across the carpeted floor, paused beside her chair and looked down at her. Her head was thrown back; her lashes lay against her cheek. Her pulse beat slowly and steadily in the hollow of her throat. He had kissed her there; he remembered the sweet taste of her flesh, the erotic whisper of her heartbeat against his lips.
Yes, she was beautiful and bright and courageous, but how had she gotten under his skin in so short a time? He’d known lots of women, had many lovers, been with a couple of them for months, but none had ever stirred his emotions this way. As often as he’d wanted to turn Megan over his knee and teach her some manners, he’d wanted to take her in his arms and make love to her.
And sometimes, sometimes it was enough just to know she was in the same room, that he could look over and see her face, enough to know she was part of his life…
A chill danced down his spine.
Amazing, what effect stress could have on a man, he thought, and hunched down beside the chair.
“Megan.”
She didn’t stir.
“Megan,” he said briskly, “wake up.”
Her lashes fluttered, the lids rose. She stared at him, her eyes dark and unseeing, and then a smile flickered across her mouth.
“Caz,” she whispered, and he stopped trying to treat this as just another moment in his life, stopped trying to figure out what in hell was happening to him, whispered her name, bent his head to hers and kissed her.
Her mouth was sweet and soft, and when she sighed, he drew her breath in, let it mix with his. She moaned and he curved his arm around her, drew her close and deepened the kiss. A long time later, he drew back, looked into her eyes and brushed her sleep-tousled hair from her temple.
“Hello, kalila,” he whispered.
“You’re awake.”
He laughed softly. “Yes.”
She touched his hair. It was damp. “Were you outside? Is it raining?”
He took her hand, pressed it to his lips. “I took a shower. Well, I took what passes for a shower in this place. I’m afraid I used up all your water.”
A picture flashed through her mind. Qasim, tall, proud, naked. “Here?”
“You were asleep.”
“The last time I saw you, you were passed out on the floor.”
His smile dimmed. “I’m sure I was.”
“You were drunk.”
“I know, kalila. I’m so sorry, but—”
“And you asked me to call you ‘Caz.’’’
“Did I?”
She nodded. “It is a nickname?”
“My roommate dubbed me ‘Caz’ my first semester at Yale, and it seemed a lot more American than Qasim, so from then on, that’s what I called myself.”
Megan traced the tip of her finger along his mouth. In the dark, with only the soft light of the oil lamp for illumination, with the silence of the mountains all around them, anything seemed right…and she’d wanted to touch her finger to his mouth for a long time, to follow those soft curves that could spark such excitement. She knew she should be angry at him for abandoning her and getting drunk, but right now she could only think how good it felt to be in his arms.
“Ah,” she said softly, with the hint of a smile. “You didn’t mind being a little bit American then.”
“I never minded it. My mother was American.” His smile tilted. “I liked her country far more than she liked mine.”
“What happened to her?”
“She couldn’t adapt to life in Suliyam and she went home.”
“Without you?”
“Without me. Don’t look so sad, kalila. Really, I had a happy childhood.”
“Then why do you look so sad when you mention her?”
“Do I look sad?” Caz brought her hand to his mouth again. “It must be the light.” He cleared his throat, and she knew he was going to change the topic. “We can talk about this another time, Megan. Right now…right now, we have another matter to discuss.”
“Yes. We certainly do.”
Her tone had changed. Well, he could hardly blame her for being angry, and he told her so.
“I don’t blame you for being upset.”
“Upset?” She pulled away from him and rose to her feet. “I wasn’t upset,” she lied. “I just think you could have found a way to let me know you weren’t being murdered.”
“I’m sorry, kalila. But there was no time.”
“I imagined the most awful things, Caz. Terrible things.”
“Sweetheart.” Caz stood up and reached for her hand. “Forgive me for putting you through this.”
His expression was contrite. She thought of her role in all this, and her anger faded as swiftly as it had taken hold.
“It’s my fault,” she said softly. “I made a mess of things.”
“No!” Caz gathered her in his arms. “I should never have brought you to these mountains. I should have seen through Ahmet’s lies. He wasn’t ill, he only wanted me to bend to him. And, like a fool, I did.” He paused. “But you’re right. Awful things might have happened. They won’t,” he added quickly. “I promise.”
Megan laid her hands on Caz’s chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palms.
“I thought of what he might do to you.” Her voice shook. “Caz, I thought—”
“Ahmet behaves like an animal when it suits him, but he’s not a fool. He wouldn’t harm me. He knows the other tribes would avenge my death and show him no mercy.”
She laughed shakily. “And here I thought he was going to feed you to a pack of hungry wolves.”
“You’ve seen too many bad movies, kalila,” Caz said softly. “In fact, he went out of his way to be…gracious.”
“There’s a word I’d never use for him.”
“You impressed him, Megan.”
“I’ll just bet,” she said, with a little laugh. “He’d probably like to toss me off the top of a mountain.”
“On the contrary. He finds you interesting.”
“I’m sure there’s a less polite word to describe it.”
“He says he’s never known a woman like you. And he’s right.”
Caz’s eyes were like flame on her mouth. She felt her lips soften, her muscles turning liquid in sweet anticipation of his kiss, but he didn’t kiss her. Instead he circled her wrists with his hands and drew back.
“We have a problem,” he said quietly.
In an instant, the mood in the darkened room had changed. Megan stared at Caz and the expression on his face chilled her to the bone.
“A problem?”
“Ahmet wants…something.”
“What?”
“He wants you.”
“What?” She forced a laugh. This had to be a joke but Caz wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. She could feel the col
or drain from her face. “What do you mean, he wants—’’
“He wants to take you as his wife.”
“Well, that’s—that’s…” Her stomach lurched. “You told him, of course, I’d never—that I would never, ever—”
She cried out as Caz clasped her shoulders and lifted her to her toes. “Listen to me, Megan. As he sees it, he’s offered you a great honor.” His voice softened. “Don’t look like that, kalila. Do you think I would let this happen? He’s not going to have you.”
Megan slumped against him. “For a minute, I thought…But Hakim said things had gone well. He said that was why you’d had so much to drink. He said—”
“He probably said it was tradition. A word you’ve come to despise—and, in this instance, one I do, too.” Caz shuddered. “I’d much rather celebrate with a handshake than with cups of horse piss.” The muscle in his jaw tightened. So did the grip of his hands on her. “But it was worth it. You see, I found the one reason Ahmet can’t have you.”
Megan smiled. “I’ll bet it was creative.”
“It was.” He paused. “I told him that you couldn’t very well marry him when you were already promised to me.”
CHAPTER NINE
SILENCE. What was called a pregnant pause in bad novels, Megan thought wildly, but what could a woman say to a man after he’d just told her…after he’d said that she…that he…
Maybe she’d misunderstood.
“You told Ahmet,” she said carefully, “that I couldn’t marry him because—”
“—because you’re going to marry me.”
She waited for Caz to add something. When he didn’t, she nodded as if what he’d told her made absolute sense.
“Oh.”
“Is that all you have to say, kalila? Nothing but ‘oh’?”
Caz sounded annoyed. Annoyed? At her? For saying “oh” after hearing him say—
The room shifted out of focus. Caz tightened his hold on her wrists.
“Megan?” His voice was sharp. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m…” She cleared her throat. “Actually I’m surprised.”
His smile was quick and wolfish. “I don’t doubt it.”
“That you’d have to come up with such a lie, I mean. You’re the ruler of this kingdom. Ahmet is your subject. Surely you can simply tell him that what he wants is out of the question.”
“I did.”
“Well, then—”
“He laughed.”
“I really don’t follow this, Caz. You told him he couldn’t—that he can’t take me for his wife and he laughed?”
Caz let go of her. He dug his hands into his pockets and began pacing the room. He’d known this wouldn’t be easy. How could a man explain ancient customs of the east to a woman of the twenty-first century west? Ahmet and his followers were the last of his people whose feet were firmly planted in the past. Moving them forward required a deft touch. His father had proven that; he’d tried to institute change through royal decree and it had only led to bloodshed.
Besides, a royal decree was impossible without the force to back it. Caz had deliberately come to these mountains without a show of arms. He’d meant it as a good faith gesture, but now his plan was about to backfire.
And bringing Megan with him had been another error. He’d figured it would present some problems. What he hadn’t anticipated was that Megan would be a temptation to a man like Ahmet.
Now, Megan’s fate was in his hands. Her fate, and the fate of this peace mission. One false step and Ahmet would surely decide to take what he wanted and the consequences be damned.
If that happened, Megan’s future, and Suliyam’s, might both be lost.
“Answer me, damn it,” Megan demanded. “How can Ahmet even think he can get away with something like this? All you have to do is say ‘no!’”
Caz turned to her. Her stance said she was ready to take on the world, shoulders back, chin up, eyes bright with defiance…and yet, he could see something beyond all that.
Fear.
What a fool he was, he thought angrily, and he crossed the room in a few quick strides and caught her in his arms.
“I have told him ‘no,’” he said quietly. “And given him a reason why he must accept my decision.” He tightened his hold on her, lifted her to her toes so she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Telling him he can’t have you wouldn’t ensure your safety. The situation is complex but you have to trust me, kalila. Now that I’ve said you are to be my wife, you’re safe.”
“And I have nothing to say about it?”
“No,” Caz said sharply. “Not unless you like the idea of having Ahmet as your husband.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I’d never—”
“Then stop arguing, damn it! Why make such a fuss?”
Why, indeed? Megan thought. Caz had lied about their relationship. So what? Why this hollow feeling inside? Someday, this would make a great story. And then there was the time I was in this little country in the middle of nowhere, she’d say, and the guy who ruled it had to pretend he wanted to make me his wife…
“You’re right,” she said, forcing a smile to her lips. “What you did was creative. Heck, it’s brilliant. Ahmet’s a barbarian, but not even he would be foolish enough to try and steal his king’s fiancée.”
Part two, coming up, Caz thought grimly, and cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, he still might.”
“But—but you just said…”
“It isn’t enough.”
“It isn’t?” Megan shook her head. “You’re losing me, Caz. Didn’t you just tell me that I was safe? That now that Ahmet knows we’re—that he knows, he has to accept defeat?”
“Being betrothed isn’t the same as being wed.”
Such formal words, so calmly spoken. He might have been discussing the weather. Was she the only one who found the prospect of a phony engagement disturbing?
“Why not? He’ll never know that we aren’t really going to—”
“Of course he will,” Caz said impatiently. “I know you think you’ve stepped into a time warp, but news travels here the same as it does in your world.”
“Why are you putting words in my mouth? I don’t think that. I’m sure not everyone’s like Ahmet.”
“Yeah.” Caz nodded. “I’m sorry, kalila. I’m a little edgy.”
“Well, so am I. It isn’t every day I become engaged, especially to a sheikh.”
Megan smiled, to make sure he understood she was joking, but he didn’t return the smile. Instead his expression became grim.
“You might as well prepare yourself for another shock.”
“What shock? Why are you looking at me like that?” Her heart seemed to turn over. “Caz? What is it?”
“Ahmet may be a brute, but he isn’t stupid. Do you think he’d let you go just because I suddenly announced our engagement?” He moved closer to her, his eyes locked to hers. “He wants to give us a gift.”
“What kind of—”
“A wedding,” Caz said, his tone flat. “He offered to have our marriage take place here. Today.”
“And you said…” Her voice was scratchy. She cleared her throat and began again. “And you said, ‘thank you, but—’”
“And I said we would be delighted to have the ceremony here, in these magnificent mountains.”
Megan stared at him in stunned disbelief, waiting for him to smile and say it was all a joke, but his steady gaze assured her that he’d meant every word.
“No!”
“You can’t say ‘no,’ Megan. I thought I made that clear.”
“I can say whatever I like, and my answer is—’’
Caz caught her by the shoulders.
“I have not asked you to marry me,” he said brusquely, “I’ve told you to marry me. There’s a world of difference.”
“You’re insane! You can’t tell me—’’
“Yes,” he said harshly, I can. I am the ruler of this country. My word is l
aw.”
There it was, the true nature of the Sheikh of Suliyam. He was a dictator and she, fool that she was, had done everything she could not to acknowledge that truth.
“Not in my world, it isn’t. You can’t force me to—”
She cried out as his hands bit into her flesh. “The world you know has no meaning here. Would you prefer to see the few men I brought with me slaughtered?” He lowered his head until his eyes burned into hers. “My men’s lives are worth more to me than your foolish female pride.”
“And me?” she said, in a papery whisper. “What am I worth to you?”
His mouth twisted. What he’d just told her was true enough, but it wasn’t all of it. His men were prepared to give their lives for him, and he had been raised to willingly give his life for his people.
But when Ahmet leered at him and said he wanted Megan, he hadn’t thought about his men first, or his people, or his responsibility to the throne.
He’d thought of Megan, lying beneath Ahmet’s savage bulk. Of the barbarian’s hands on her. Of her tears, her terror, and he’d come as close to insanity as a man could get without tumbling over the edge.
His hands had knotted into fists; his heart pounded. He’d looked into Ahmet’s fat, ugly face and imagined it bloodied beyond repair, imagined the joy of beating him to his knees…
He’d reached deep inside himself, struggled to hold on to reason even as his vision reddened, and acknowledged that if he attacked the barbarian, he’d surely seal Megan’s fate.
Could he tell her that? Tell her that he would gladly give his life for hers, if he thought it would save her? No. He couldn’t. Such a thought was irrational and he couldn’t afford to be irrational.
He was the king.
“You’re very important to me,” he said carefully. “I’m responsible for your welfare.” She seemed to sag in his hands. What more did she want him to say? Caz searched for the words that would make this easier and finally found them. “Of course, the marriage won’t be real.”
Her head came up and she looked into his eyes. “It won’t?”
“The ceremony will have meaning only in Suliyam, not in the States. I’ll take care of nullifying it on my end. You won’t have to do anything to set it aside.”
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