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Desert Kings Boxed Set: The Complete Series Books 1-6

Page 12

by Jennifer Lewis


  “What happened?” Her voice shook. And it was a stupid question. They kissed, that’s what happened.

  Osman’s wide mouth eased into that lazy smile. He didn’t bother to answer. “You’re quite a woman, Samantha.”

  “I’m overtired and possibly in need of some aspirin.” She tried to keep her voice low and her thoughts as simple as possible. Which was hard when unwanted desire roamed through her. “Don’t think that means anything.”

  His eyes glowed almost golden in the reflected light from the ornamental lanterns. Who brings elaborate stained glass lanterns on an emergency camping trip? “I know what it means.” His gaze dared her to argue.

  She made a fuss of smoothing her shirt and tucking stray hairs behind her ears. “You shouldn’t have kissed me.”

  “You’re wrong.” He didn’t elaborate, just cocked his head slightly and let that golden gaze drift over her. Her nipples, already taut and willing, sprang to attention. Her belly rippled with sensation, and once again her knees threatened to buckle.

  “Would you please stop that?” She lifted her chin and crossed her arms over her chest. They were in her “bedroom,” so if she marched out in a huff she didn’t really have anywhere to go. His gaze was arrogant, commanding and infuriating.

  “Stop what?” Her toes tingled as he looked right at them. A vision of him washing them filled her brain

  “Looking at me like that.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” His eyes eased slowly back up her body, stirring a frenzy between her hips, pounding in her chest and making her swallow hard. “I’m not fully in command of myself right now.”

  “I’m engaged to be married.” Her muted howl of protest was for herself as much as Osman. She wanted to kiss him again and had to stop herself.

  A furrow appeared in his majestic brow. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious. Allan and I have been engaged for…some time now.”

  His eyes darkened. “If I were him I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.”

  She had to admit it was a bit unchivalrous of Allan to run off so enthusiastically into the desert night to explore Nabattur nightlife. And to leave her with another man—a ridiculously handsome and charming one! Maybe Allan really didn’t care that much about her? No. It was because he trusted her. Just like she trusted him not to get involved with any of the fallen women he might encounter.

  “That’s exactly why he’s right for me and you’re not.” Had anyone said Osman was right for her? He certainly hadn’t. He was probably just trying to prove a point. Possibly that he could have any woman he desired at any given time. “I’d hate a possessive man who tried to tell me what to do.”

  “What about a possessive man who knows exactly what you want to do.” His low, seductive voice crept into her ears, calling her to walk into his arms and kiss him with passion.

  She managed to restrain herself. “I want to go to sleep.” Her voice sounded shrill. Right now she wasn’t sure she’d ever sleep again.

  He shook his head slowly, that rude gleam of humor in his eyes. “You don’t.”

  “Oh, really?” She pretended to act indignant, to pretend the energy snapping through her was anger, not excitement. Still, curiosity pricked her. “What do I want to do?”

  “You want me to peel off your clothes and wash your body with cool fresh water scented with rose petals. Then you’d like me to massage your skin with soothing oils that fill the senses. When you’re so tense with arousal that you can no longer stand the feel of my hands on your body, you’d like me to fill you up and make love to you until you can no longer move or breathe.”

  His lips formed the words with casual ease, as if this was all matter-of-fact stuff. His gaze never wavered. He still wore the long robe that gave him a formal appearance, but now she had a much better idea of what exactly lay under it.

  It was hard to argue with him. Her body screamed for him to do all the things he’d suggested, even as her mind spluttered protests and begged her to run for Allan and the car.

  Allan. A twinge of sadness mixed with pity crept over her. Until yesterday she’d been so sure of their life together.

  Now that entire vision of the future lay in ruins at Osman’s feet.

  “You have quite a nerve,” she spluttered. “I barely know you. I just came here to film the festival.”

  “You enjoyed the kiss.”

  True. She blinked and fought for words. “I didn’t want to kiss you.”

  “But you did.”

  “You didn’t give me a choice.” She hated the way her body still sizzled with the aftermath of his touch.

  “You didn’t scream. Or beat me with your fists.” Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  She wanted to slap him. “Would that have made it more exciting for you?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I enjoyed your willing and enthusiastic response to my advances. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I wasn’t already sure you wanted me to.”

  “You’re insufferable.”

  “I prefer to think of myself as perceptive and confident.”

  “Then you’ll have perceived that I’m here with my fiancé.” She gestured vaguely in the direction her fiancé had disappeared in.

  His eyes followed her hand. “He seems to have abandoned you.”

  Osman’s words hit her like a blow to the gut. Mostly because they echoed her own feelings. Allan had been pushing her away the entire time they’d been here. Maybe he did it all the time at home, too, and she didn’t notice because she was so settled in her routine and busy with work. Still, it was Osman who’d got him interested in Nabattur’s red-light district. “You enticed him away on purpose.”

  “You deserve better.” He said it softly. “You deserve a man who’ll support you and protect you and stay by your side in times of trouble.”

  She felt her lip begin to quiver, and she bit it. Maybe he was right. She and Allan could be sharing a magical evening of romance in this gorgeous tent and a grand adventure, and instead he’d left her with another man.

  “I don’t know what I deserve. Apparently, not loyalty.” She’d fallen into someone else’s arms so easily. How would she feel if Allan did something like that to her? Devastated.

  Or relieved. Guilt racked her at the thought.

  “Why would you try to seduce me when you can see I’m with someone? Is this a game for you?”

  “My brothers told me he was your boyfriend, and I didn’t believe them. A woman like you with a man like that? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “What do you mean, a man like that?” He hadn’t said it with distaste, merely a touch of incredulity. Okay, so Allan wasn’t six-foot-three and weighed down with useless muscle, but he was smart and creative and reliable….

  She wanted to say sweet and kind and loving, but she wasn’t really feeling those last qualities right now.

  “He’s cold to you. He thinks about nothing but himself and his ideas. He feels distaste for my land and its people, that much is obvious.”

  “It’s all unfamiliar to him. He feels uncomfortable out of his element.”

  “You need a man who can handle any situation.” He shifted his weight and she tried not to think about all those muscles rippling under his robe. “A man who can solve all your problems.”

  “I don’t. In my job as a producer I’m used to handling problems. If anything I need someone who will get out of the way and let me take charge.”

  Something flickered in his eyes. Curiosity. “I have no doubt that you could take command of any situation, Samantha.” His voice suggested that he was visualizing a sensual situation.

  A vision of herself riding his muscled body assaulted her. She blinked again to dispel the image. She couldn’t let this man put thoughts in her head. “If that was true I’d be getting a good night’s sleep right now. Don’t forget that I’m here on business. I’ll need to concentrate to make sure Allan gets the best possible footage tomorrow.”<
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  Allan. Her heart sank. How could she even look him in the eye after what she’d done with Osman? She’d better not say anything. He might fly into a mood, and that would be the end of them filming the festival.

  “Don’t worry. My men and I will assure you have privileged access to everything worth filming.”

  Her mind flashed back to the events of that evening. “Why did you throw the garland over my head?”

  “To claim you.” He held her gaze.

  Panic rushed over her. “But you can’t. I’m not from here, I’m not staying, and I’m not available to claim. And you originally got the garland for Allan to throw. How did you know that he’d miss?”

  “I didn’t.”

  She stared at him. “If he’d succeeded you would have left me alone?”

  He tilted his head slightly. “He missed. The hand of fate is always at work.”

  Maybe he was right. Had fate brought her here and shoved her into his muscled, robe-clad arms? An ugly thought occurred to her. “How did you manage to get this entire tent setup erected in less than half an hour? How did you even have it handy so far away from the palace? Did you plan to spend the night here before the explosion even happened?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you plan the explosion?”

  He laughed aloud. “You think I’d blow up my own car just to engineer a night with you?”

  Embarrassment mixed with anger and heated her face. “It just seems very convenient.”

  He rubbed his upper arm, which had the unfortunate effect of pulling his robe tight across his chest and the other thickly muscled arm. “I confess that I did intend for us to spend the night out here under the stars. I knew you would enjoy sharing in my people’s ancient way of life.” Then his eyes narrowed. “But I had nothing to do with the explosion. Either the one outside the city walls, or the more distant one in the mountains. And truly, we will be safer here instead of traveling the expected route. I can only assume I was the target of the explosion in my car. I don’t wish to place you in danger.”

  “Allan and I would surely be in less danger far away from you and safely tucked away in a hotel.”

  “True.” There was no hint of teasing in his face. “I admit to selfishly desiring your company. You’re the first woman I’ve met since I’ve been back in Ubar who has treated me like a man and not a living god.” Humor lit his eyes again.

  “I treated you with common politeness, I hope.”

  “Your manners are impeccable, as is everything else about you.” His olive-green eyes drifted offensively over her body again. “But you don’t fawn or flatter or try to win my affections.”

  “I thought men liked flattery.” Not Allan, of course. He’d always liked what a straight shooter she was. She sucked in a shaky breath at the renewed realization that she’d really screwed things up with Allan, even though he didn’t know it yet.

  “Men who doubt their own self-worth, perhaps. I prefer a woman who is self-possessed and independent and who approaches me as an equal.”

  She lifted her chin. “Such a woman does not take kindly to a man who engineers an unexpected night in the mountains and surprises her with an unwanted kiss.”

  He let out a long, slow sigh, but the sparkle of amusement never left his eyes. “No. Women like you are more of a challenge. But worth it in the end.”

  No doubt the end was when she finally gave herself to him. Then he could cast her aside, having had his fill of the whole experience.

  Luckily, she had no intention of sleeping with him, despite the disturbing feelings rippling through unexpected parts of her body.

  Sam wished she could tell him where to shove it and storm out of here, but her first responsibility was to the documentary and the people who’d provided the funding to make it. With no car and no translator and Allan in a snit, the whole project would fall apart before noon tomorrow if she didn’t somehow keep Osman on her side.

  She straightened her shoulders. “Are you going to let me get some sleep, or do you have other plans for me tonight?”

  He regarded her steadily until her breath began to quicken against her will. Then he bent low in a sweeping bow, which startled her so much that she staggered back a step.

  “You know where I am if you need anything.”

  The thought of him lying just on the other side of a thin curtain was not in the least reassuring. “You will leave me unmolested.” She intended for it to sound like a command, but it came out more like a question.

  “On my honor.” He placed his hand over his heart. His expression was deadly serious.

  And to her surprise, she believed him.

  It took a moment to realize she’d dropped the robe he’d come in to deliver. Probably she’d let it go when she’d let everything else go and fallen into the kiss. Madness! It must be the heat and the long day or the unfamiliar food. She didn’t feel like herself at all. Energy snapped and pulsed inside her and she could probably run a marathon right now.

  She picked up the robe and shook it out. The fabric was soft, silky cotton, like the super expensive bedsheets her college roommate used to have. The door curtain had fallen back into place, so theoretically she was alone. Still, she was hyperaware of Osman’s burly masculine presence on the other side of that curtain.

  Was she really supposed to strip down to her underwear right now?

  “Samantha.”

  Uh-oh.

  “I have some water for you to wash with.”

  “Oh, great. That would be nice.” She stood still while he delivered a big brass bowl of clear water and a fluffy Turkish towel. He could have brought a plastic jug and a sponge, but that clearly wasn’t how they did things in Ubar.

  “I’d be happy to wash you.” Those sparkling green eyes did something very unnerving to her stomach.

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “No, but it might be fun.”

  She attempted to scowl at him. Now he was toying with her. The prospect of his big hands rubbing cool water over her body almost unhinged her.

  “I won’t disturb you again.”

  Now that he already had, she wasn’t so sure she’d believe him. He’d promised not to molest her, but that still left room for him to undertake plenty of other interactions in the name of politeness.

  “Good. I’d really like to be alone now.” She tried to sound firm, but instead she sounded a bit dazed.

  He smiled and vanished through the curtain.

  Once again she was alone, yet not really. She heard water slosh and the swish of fabric on the other side of the curtain, and it was all too easy to imagine Osman’s sturdy body naked, water running down the cleft of his back or his powerful thighs.

  Great. Just what she needed.

  She took off her clothes fast—leaving her underwear in place—and scrubbed at herself with a damp corner of the towel. The cool water felt so good that she forced herself to slow down and wash properly, scrubbing away the dust of Nabattur and refreshing herself for sleep. By the time she put the soft pale-blue robe on she felt calm and clean. It felt luscious against her skin, and she lay down on the soft cushions enjoying the luxury of relaxation after their long day.

  She wondered if Allan was comfortable in the car. Unlikely. He’d probably wake up with a headache and a crick in his neck and be even more of a pain tomorrow.

  And she wasn’t going to marry him.

  The thought swept through her like a tsunami, lifting and shifting everything in its path. Today’s events had been unplanned, but they’d shown her a side of Allan—and of herself—that she hadn’t truly seen before. He was unadventurous and whiny and petty.

  And she was…capable of being far more aroused and excited by a man than she’d ever imagined.

  “Samantha.” Osman’s voice startled her out of her swirling thoughts.

  Apparently, you were never really alone in a tent. “Yes?”

  “I wish you sweet dreams.”

  “I think anxiety dreams are a lot more
likely.” He had a nerve wishing her sweet dreams after he’d just turned her life upside down.

  “I’m here if you need anything.”

  “I know.” Hopefully nothing else would explode before morning. If it did she knew he’d rush in to save her. The prospect was both unnerving and strangely reassuring.

  Osman was so different from Allan. Different from any of the sharp-minded but soft-bodied intellectual types she’d always dated. Two writers, a graphic artist and a theoretical physicist had treated her with kindness and respect—but no one had ever swept her off her feet before.

  She’d always avoided the kind of flashy, dramatic type of men who made women catch their breath and turn to stare. Men like Osman, for example, who stood a head above the crowd and could stop you in your tracks with a glance. Growing up in L.A., with actors for parents, she’d also developed an aversion to men who needed to be the center of attention, or who took an entourage everywhere. Too much drama! She hated drama.

  “Tomorrow we’ll dance together.”

  “I don’t think so.” She tried to sound exasperated. There was no way she could dance with Osman in front of Allan. That would be the kiss of death for this project.

  There was a long silence. She got the odd sensation that she could hear him smiling. “You’ll see.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Samantha awoke from a terrible dream in which she’d cheated on Allan with some random stranger. Then she realized it was true. She’d actually kissed Osman, on a trip that was supposed to be a pre-wedding honeymoon.

  And she’d stopped loving Allan. Maybe she’d never really loved him at all. He’d been safe and predictable, an intelligent and reliable friend and companion, and that had been enough. Now that Osman had seized hold of her like a fever, it would never be enough again.

  She pulled the covers over her head. Maybe if she could get back to sleep she’d wake up to a different reality.

 

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