My God, you are sensational, she translated.
It wasn’t the first time she’d been kissed, but it was the first time she’d been truly awakened by a kiss. Never before had a kiss caused moist heat to pool between her thighs. Of the few boyfriends she’d had at university, none of them had ever stirred her to these passionate, giddy heights.
But then, they’d been much less experienced than Khalid. And it was the thought of just how experienced he was which hurtled her back to earth with a resounding, smashing thud.
Pushing away from him, her breath coming in gasps, she glared at him. “Do you agree to my terms?”
“You’re creating a scene.”
“And you kissing me didn’t?” she shot back sarcastically.
“Sabihah—” he started in a reasoning tone of voice.
Summoning all of her determination, she pinned him with her eyes, and felt stronger than she’d ever felt before. “You want me on your plane, you answer me first. Do you or don’t you intend to go through with the marriage?”
Khalid’s jaw firmed. “It’s not as simple as you seem to think.”
Sabrina swung away from him and took two paces, only to be pulled back again into his arms and steered behind a large pillar.
“I’m not going to Turastan with you without knowing there’s a way I can get back home to Australia.”
Khalid’s tension was palpable. She felt the tightness in his biceps, saw the irritation in his features and, when he spoke, she heard the barely suppressed anger and resentment straining his usually well-modulated voice. “I need you to return with me. At this point I’ll say whatever it takes to get you on that plane.”
“And your word is your promise?” she asked in tones that were equally as clipped.
“You have my word. If you still want to go ahead with marriage once we visit Rhajia and you’ve seen for yourself the state of suffering the people are enduring, then I will agree to honour the betrothal and marry you.”
It was only then, on an outward sigh of relief, that Sabrina became aware of the interest they were attracting from passers-by.
“Oh no,” she groaned.
“They think we’re having a lover’s tiff,” Khalid said simply. “Let’s show them we’ve made up.”
With no other warning, Sabrina was drawn against his broad frame again.
“Be convincing, Sabihah. If you’re so set on marriage, we’ll need to convince both the Rhajian and Turastani people that we’re happy together so they may rejoice in our union.”
As much as she told herself it was all just an act she was obliged to perform, Sabrina knew deep down she wanted this kiss as much as she wanted to see the sun rise again the following day. The thought of being truly, physically united with him was a heady one. It was sweet heaven to be able to raise her arms and thread her fingers into his thick hair so she could press his head closer toward her own. Sheer ecstasy flowed through her as the movement created friction between her aroused nipples and the hard wall of his chest. Absolute paradise was the only way to describe the way she drowned in the firm pressure of his mouth as he explored her without haste. And when she realised that his breathing was just as ragged as hers, satisfaction rippled through her.
“That’s enough performance practice,” he said in thick, roughened tones.
“I agree.” She lied for her own self-preservation, for as she drew back away from him, her head spun with newfound sensations. Khalid’s brand of passion was totally addictive and it seemed she could affect him just as much as he affected her. That was a revelation.
“Surely, we won’t be expected to put on public displays of affection in Rhajia or Turastan?”
“No,” he said. “Although it wouldn’t be taboo. Neither of our countries is as strict as some of our neighbours because we are predominantly Christian and home to a mixture of religions, ethnic groups and cultures within our borders. Now, are you ready?” He framed it as a question, but she realised he would brook no further protests or delays.
With a quick nod, she made for the boarding gate and was thankful this was a private flight. It would afford her some time to sit away from him as he caught up on correspondence. She needed to think about her situation.
Once strapped into her seat ready for take-off, Sabrina asked, “Do I get to know this mystery woman’s name?”
Khalid hesitated. “Inaya,” he told her at last. “And I will see her as soon as possible after our landing.”
A knot of pain twisted in Sabrina’s chest. For some reason, the thought of Khalid touching down in Turastan and rushing off to be with this woman made Sabrina …
My God!
She was jealous of Inaya.
Reality check. Huge reality check and grounding required. Jealousy indicated caring. Sabrina did not care about Khalid. All she cared about was revisiting Rhajia, deposing her uncle and making sure Khalid would restore the country of her birth to its former happy and wealthy state. Closure on this chapter of her life needed to be achieved. All that was truly important to her was in Australia. Wasn’t it?
Chapter Six
“You’ve done what?” Khalid’s voice cracked like a whip into the telephone receiver.
Incredulity at his father’s announcement was followed quickly by annoyance. “You should’ve discussed this with me first.”
“There was no time. Expediency was crucial,” King Hassan explained. “The delegates were already here demanding Lalita’s marriage to Hamil.”
“Princess Sabihah isn’t ready for this.” As he argued with his father, the muscles across Khalid’s shoulders grew rigid with tension. “You’re throwing her to the wolves.”
“You will prepare her. She must make a favourable impression.”
“Right,” Khalid intoned with impatience as he looked at his watch, “and I now have an hour and a half before we land in Turastan. I would’ve appreciated more warning.”
“Khalid—”
“Who will be there? What am I walking her into, Father?”
King Hassan rattled off many names. Khalid felt his face harden as he realised the representatives were political heavyweights who were intimidating when faced in a one-to-one meeting. En masse? This reception committee could be likened to a pit of vipers and Sabihah was about to be thrown into it.
There was one name his father hadn’t mentioned. It burnt in Khalid’s mind. “Mustaf?”
“Naturally he claims she’s an imposter. He declares that if we continue with the claim that she’s the Princess of Rhajia, he’ll mobilise his troops against us.”
Khalid stood. Restless energy pulsed through him. “One way or another he’s determined to declare war.” His brain worked quickly as he paced the confines of the small private office on the royal jet. “Have the authorities in Australia managed to get the hitman to talk?”
“Not yet, but a senior member of our police force has been sent to assist with the investigation. I’m confident this will bring us the evidence we need to convict Mustaf of attempted murder.”
It wasn’t moving fast enough for Khalid and he didn’t share his father’s confidence. Mustaf needed to be brought to heel immediately in the interests of Sabihah’s safety. “Do you know where the leak occurred in our palace security yet?”
“No.”
He smothered a curse. How could he guarantee Sabihah’s safety in Turastan when they couldn’t even locate the security breech?
“Has any new evidence come to light involving Mustaf in the assassination of Sabihah’s parents?” Even as Khalid asked the question he knew he was clutching at straws.
“I believe someone will come forward now Princess Sabihah is returning to assume the throne.”
Again, Khalid wasn’t so sure. It had been a long time since the murders and people were terrified of Mustaf.
“Extra security has been arranged at the airport and the palace. Everything is proceeding as it should, Khalid,” came his father’s attempt at reassurance. “You’ve done well in conv
incing Princess Sabihah to return.” He cleared his throat slightly. “And judging by the video footage leaked to the media by an Australian airport employee, your marriage to our Rhajian princess will cause neither of you any undue hardship.”
Khalid’s fingers tightened around the telephone as he absorbed his father’s words. “What video footage?”
“You have a habit of making headlines. You know the paparazzi hunger for photographs of you.”
“Tell me what you’ve seen,” he grated.
“You at the airport in a passionate embrace with a woman who was immediately recognised due to her recent act of heroism. The footage has been aired by the world’s major television networks and photos plastered over the latest editions of newspapers. She may tell you she wants a temporary marriage—” the king made a sound of amused disbelief, “—but I don’t believe you’ll have any trouble convincing her there will be no divorce.”
Khalid cursed. For the hundredth time since he’d kissed Sabihah he berated himself for having lost control. It had been wrong on so many levels, but to have it aired publicly when he was normally so circumspect—when Inaya was awaiting his return …
“Inaya …”
“I summoned Inaya to the palace,” King Hassan told him with censure in his voice. “As you ignored my demand to break off your relationship, I informed her of your betrothal to Sabihah.”
Khalid returned to his desk and sat down abruptly. “You had no right to do that.” He ground out the words. “It was my place to speak with Inaya, and it may not even be necessary to go through with a marriage to the Rhajian princess.”
“The marriage will take place.” His father’s words were an adamant decree. “Would you have preferred Inaya to hear of your upcoming marriage on the news?”
If Khalid had his way there’d be no upcoming marriage. Sabihah must be made to accept her responsibility. The political support and advice she received from her allies would have to be enough to assist her in ruling wisely.
“I intend to speak with Inaya as soon as I arrive and explain the situation.” He slumped into his chair, closing his eyes briefly. He should’ve been the one to inform Inaya of what was happening and why.
“Stay away from her,” came the royal order. “You should have ended the relationship before you left for Australia.”
Khalid’s teeth clamped together so tightly a muscle ticked in his cheek. He would not be dictated to in this. Although he hadn’t even hinted that he was planning to propose to her, Inaya deserved more from him. She needed to know that this betrothal was never one he’d contemplated. He would tell her that it was King Hassan and Sabihah who were hell-bent on a marriage alliance between Rhajia and Turastan.
It would be unforgivable for Inaya to think he’d taken her to his bed whilst planning marriage to Princess Sabihah. That wasn’t the way he operated.
Yet, he’d kissed Sabihah. Kissed her with passionate intensity while he was still involved with Inaya. Why had he behaved in a way that was so completely out-of-character?
His thoughts were scrambled. As much as he told himself he didn’t want the marriage, the memory of Sabihah’s lips against his own edged forward from the recesses of his mind, refusing to be ignored.
The kiss should never have happened—yet it had. As soon as their mouths melded, the lightning bolts of red-hot desire had zapped through every part of his body with a shocking voltage the likes of which he’d never experienced.
“Khalid,” his father broke into his thoughts, “Inaya’s composure—her calm acceptance of the news of your upcoming marriage—told me all I needed to know. She wasn’t the woman for you.”
“She’s my choice.” Even as he said the words he wondered whether they still held true.
“You chose her for all the wrong reasons.”
“And you think an arranged marriage is right?”
“It’s your duty,” King Hassan said, overruling his objections.
“I don’t want a duty marriage.” Khalid was just as obstinate in his denial.
“My son,” the king scoffed, “listen to yourself. You chose Inaya because you know it’s your duty to marry and produce an heir. You considered she would be suitable as a queen. Don’t try to convince me it was a decision made with your heart and not your head.”
Khalid pressed his lips together to curb further rebuttal. The old man was right. If his position as Crown Prince had not necessitated it, Khalid wouldn’t have contemplated a proposal to Inaya. He had no choice but to sacrifice the freedom of his bachelor lifestyle but at least Inaya had been his choice. Now Sabihah was being thrust upon him. He railed against the whole concept of an arranged marriage. Perhaps he’d been more influenced by his English education than his father realised. But couldn’t his father see? Inaya would be a calm, dutiful wife, whereas marriage to the strong-willed Sabihah promised to be a hotbed of conflict. If he was to serve Turastan well, he didn’t need the distraction of a truculent wife.
“Unless you’re a supremely good actor and possess talents which have previously remained hidden, I suspect marriage to Sabihah will suit you very well. Can you tell me you do not feel a greater degree of attraction to her than you do to Inaya?”
“That is not open for discussion.”
His father had the temerity to chuckle. “The evidence speaks for itself. Despite all your liaisons, you’ve never let your guard down enough to be filmed holding hands with a woman, let alone kissing passionately in a public place. I also know you’ve never dated one woman while indulging in any form of dalliance with another. I know you wouldn’t have been seen kissing the princess were you in love with Inaya.”
“Father.” The two syllables carried a weight of warning.
“Before you were Crown Prince, the level of media attention you attracted was of concern to me. However, this publicity may work in our favour. I’ve released a statement informing the world that the woman in your arms at the airport, known as Sabrina St. George, is your betrothed—Princess Sabihah of Rhajia. There will be huge international media focus on the lost princess and everyone at the palace feels her story will bring worldwide support for her rule.”
The guilt Khalid felt over Inaya was replaced immediately by crushing concern for Sabihah.
The world knew of her reappearance?
“What were you thinking? It’s bad enough the Arab Council has been told of Sabihah’s existence, but to throw the media into a feeding frenzy before she even has the chance to set foot on her home soil and come to terms with this? I don’t know how she’ll cope.”
“She’s King Akram’s daughter and her mother was a strong, courageous woman. She’ll also have your support. I have every confidence she will handle this.”
Khalid’s fist made hard contact with the surface of his desk. “Don’t try to justify your actions. You must know you’ve done her a disservice!”
The king cleared his throat. “I had little choice but to act quickly, yet I do have faith in her. Her recent act of bravery is proof of the lengths she’ll go to for the benefit of others. I believe she’ll make Rhajia a great leader and you a pleasing wife.”
The rest of his father’s announcement hit home belatedly.
“You shouldn’t have announced our marriage.” Khalid ran a finger around the collar of his shirt. He could almost feel the noose tightening around his neck. The king’s announcement made their marriage official. There was no escape now without inflicting public humiliation on the princess and risking offense to the Rhajian people.
No escape.
“It’s fated. There’s no point denying it.” The king paused. “Our main objective now is to depose Mustaf and prevent war between our countries.”
War was imminent, but it wouldn’t come as quickly as the battle he had to fight with Sabihah. When she realised there was no option for divorce once they were married, she would be furious. He should’ve told her from the outset and put an end to the whole marriage idea of hers before it had progressed so far. But i
f he told her now, she might well refuse to go any further with the agreement and nothing would be resolved. If she walked away from him she was sure to be assassinated by one of Mustaf’s hitmen.
A chill settled around his heart. He wouldn’t let that happen. He’d embroiled her in this mess and he would protect her.
“Remember, this is the destiny you were both meant to share,” King Hassan advised.
Khalid barely managed to rein in his fury before he terminated the phone call from his father with a semblance of control. He wanted to throw the phone across the room and smash it to smithereens.
Duty.
The four-letter word now ruled his life. He understood the enormity of what it entailed, had thought he’d come to terms with it since Hazim’s death. Yet muttered now under his breath, the word tasted bitter and unpalatable.
Resentment burned through his blood, pounded in his head. His breath lodged in his chest as powerlessness overwhelmed him.
He was trapped.
The current situation was beyond his control.
Shooting up out of the chair, he resumed pacing back and forth like a caged tiger searching for a way out. There seemed no alternative.
I should’ve been on that plane, not Hazim.
Guilt, anger and despair tore through his heart. Hazim was dead. It was up to Khalid to take his place and do what was right for Turastan. This marriage was part of his punishment.
But would it be such a punishment?
The memory of Sabihah’s lush lips, and the sweetness of her mouth, washed over him. The chemistry between them was explosive, but would it burn out as quickly as it had ignited? She enticed him like some forbidden, addictive nectar. He wanted her as he’d wanted no other woman. Craved her as a dehydrating man craved water in the desert.
Part of him wanted to reject the yearning, but a larger part of him wanted to explore it. He would have every opportunity to feed the fires of his desire if they married.
Marriage!
Khalid bit back a curse. The whole situation was impossible, yet King Hassan was right in one regard. As much as he protested his lack of choice, Khalid was merely swapping one duty marriage for another.
The Defiant Princess Page 8
