Desert Prince's Forbidden Desire (HQR Presents Plus)

by Sandra Marton

  The stars were still tumbling from the sky when he rose over her.

  ‘Look at me,’ he said. Joanna opened her eyes and he smiled down at her, a sweet, fierce smile of possession and dominance that made her heart seem to stop—but when he entered her, slowly, so slowly, with his eyes never leaving hers, she knew that her possession of him, her dominance of him, was as complete as his was of her.

  She loved him, she adored him, and it stunned her that it had taken her so long to recognise the truth.

  She wanted to tell him that, to whisper that he was the captor not of her body but of her heart and of her soul, but he was deep within her now and she was, oh, she was—

  ‘Beloved,’ he said fiercely, and kissed her deeply. Joanna cried out as she spun into the night sky, where she became a burst of quicksilver among the stars.

  * * *

  Joanna awoke once, during the night, drawn from sleep by the sweet touch of Khalil’s mouth. Her awakening was slow and dreamlike, and after they’d made love she settled into his arms and fell back into deep sleep.

  But when she awoke again, she was alert, uncertain as to what it was that had roused her. She lay very still, tension building in her muscles, and then she heard the faint whicker of a horse and she sighed with relief.

  That was what had awakened her, the mare or Najib, offering gentle protests at having spent the night tethered.

  Joanna smiled. She, too, had spent the night tethered, held closely in Khalil’s arms—and it had been the most wonderful night of her life. She turned her face against his shoulder, inhaling the clean, masculine smell of his body, touching her lips lightly to his satiny skin, and gazed at his face.

  How different he looked in sleep. The little lines that fanned out from his eyes were almost invisible, his mouth was soft, as if, in sleep, he could put aside, at least for a while, the burden of leadership he carried. She sighed and put her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. And that burden had to be even heavier, knowing that part of his country had been stolen from him, that it was in the grip of an evil despot, for Joanna no longer had any doubts at all about Abu Al Zouad.

  Her father had been wrong, whether through accident or design. Khalil was not the bandit. Abu was, and the sooner she was able to tell Sam that she knew the truth now, the better.

  There it was, that sound again. Joanna sat up, tossing her hair back from her face. She was sure it was one of the horses, but what if the animal was whinnying a warning instead of protesting against inactivity?

  She dropped a gentle kiss on Khalil’s forehead, then rose to her feet, found her clothing, and dressed. It had been hard to see much last night, but she remembered that the cave entrance was on a slight elevation. Quietly, she made her way forward. Perhaps she could see what it was that—

  A hand whipped across her mouth. Joanna gasped, kicked out sharply, and other hands caught hold of her and dragged her into the sunlight, where Abu and the rest of his men waited.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Bennett.’ Joanna glared at the fat man as he slid from his horse. He strolled towards her, smiling unpleasantly. ‘I am His Excellency, Abu Al Zouad.’ His smile became a grin, revealing a shiny, gold tooth. ‘You don’t look very happy to see me.’

  Joanna’s mind was spinning. Abu wasn’t bothering to drop his voice. And now that she’d appeared, no one was paying any attention to the cave.

  They had no idea Khalil was with her! He could escape through the rear of the cave. All she had to do was be certain he heard this fuss and awakened.

  She bit down hard on the hand that covered her mouth. The man cursed, let her go, and lifted his hand to strike her.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ she said in her best Bennett voice. Whether he understood her English or not, her tone stopped him. He glanced at Abu, who motioned him away.

  ‘Well, Miss Bennett. It is good to see that captivity has not dulled your spirit.’

  Joanna’s chin lifted. ‘How did you find me?’

  Abu smiled. ‘My spies alerted me to your rather abrupt departure from the fortress of the bandit Khalil, and then it was simply a matter of following your trail—although I must admit, my scout stumbled upon your little hideaway quite by accident.’ He moved closer to her. ‘And now I have my prize.’ Without warning, he reached out and ran his hand down her body. ‘And what a prize it is, too!’

  Joanna’s blood went cold. She thought of Khalil’s hesitation last night, when she’d asked him if Abu were coming to rescue her.

  ‘It might be better to say that you were all the excuse he needed to ride against me,’ he’d said.

  Abu had no intention of taking her back to her father! He would kill her—after first taking his pleasure—and blame her death on Khalil.

  Joanna slapped his hand away. ‘I am not your prize!’ The man nearest Abu snarled something and put his hand on the scabbard hanging from his belt. ‘You have forgotten who I am,’ she said, her voice so sharp and chill that only she knew she was really trembling with fear.

  ‘I forget nothing,’ Abu growled. ‘You are a woman, stolen by a bandit. Whatever happens to you will be his doing, not mine.’

  ‘And losing the reward for my return will be your doing—or are you so rich you can’t use a million dollars in gold?’

  ‘A million dollars? Your father did not say—’

  Joanna drew herself fully erect. ‘A million dollars, and the contract you want so badly with Bennettco. You will get neither, if I am not returned safely.’

  ‘You are only a woman! You make no rules for Sam Bennett.’

  ‘I am his daughter.’

  ‘That is a guarantee of nothing.’

  Joanna smiled tightly. ‘Perhaps—and perhaps not.’ With a last bit of bravado, she looked him straight in the eye. ‘Are you willing to take that chance?’

  She could almost see the wheels spinning in his ugly head, but her most desperate thoughts were deep within the cave. Had Khalil got away? Had he heard the noise, made good his escape? Had he—?

  Her answer came in a sudden burst of sound, a blood-chilling yell that froze her with terror. It must have had the same effect on Abu’s men, too, for when Khalil came bursting from the cave entrance there was time for him to lunge at Abu and almost curl his hands around the man’s throat before anyone moved.

  ‘Go on,’ he yelled at Joanna as two men pulled him back and pinned him against the rocks, ‘make a run for it! Dammit, woman, why are you standing there?’

  Abu rubbed his dirty fingers over his throat. ‘Well, well,’ he said, very softly, ‘this is indeed a morning of prizes—and of surprises.’ He grinned, then pointed at one of his men. ‘Kill the bandit!’

  ‘No!’ The word ripped from Joanna’s throat. She stepped forward. ‘No,’ she said again, ‘don’t kill him.’

  ‘We will spare you,’ Abu said, as if it were an act of humanity that impelled him and not the threat Joanna had made. ‘But I have waited too long for a reason the people will accept to kill the bandit.’ He smiled. ‘And now I have one. Kill him!’

  ‘Very well.’ Joanna’s voice was cool. ‘Kill him, if you like—but if you do, you are a fool.’

  ‘Watch your tongue, woman!’

  ‘He is not only your enemy, Abu, he is also my father’s. He has dishonoured him—and me.’ She took a breath. ‘My father will surely want the pleasure of killing Khalil himself.’

  Abu laughed. ‘Westerners do not believe in taking blood for dishonour.’

  ‘Do you think my father got where he is today by being soft-hearted?’

  She looked over at Khalil, expecting to see a dark glint of admiration for her off-the-cuff cleverness in his eyes, needing to see it to give her the courage to go on. Her heart dropped like a stone. Khalil was watching her as if she were something that had just scurried out from under a rock. She turned away quickly, forcing herself to concentrate on Abu.

  ‘My father will pay for having Khalil delivered into his hands,’ she said coldly,
‘and he will be grateful to you forever.’

  ‘I think you say this to save the neck of the man who has become your lover.’

  Joanna stared at him. ‘No. No, I—’

  ‘I think I am right, Miss Bennett.’ He looked at one of the men holding Khalil. ‘Go on,’ he said, ‘kill him!’

  ‘He took me,’ Joanna blurted. ‘He forced me! That’s why I made such a desperate escape.’ She knotted her hands into fists, marched up to Khalil and looked into his eyes, which were almost black with rage. My love, she thought, oh, my love!

  Swiftly, before she lost courage, she drew saliva into her mouth and spat full into Khalil’s face.

  ‘He’s a barbarian,’ she said, swinging away so she didn’t have to look at him, ‘and I’ll have no peace until my father takes my revenge.’

  A heavy silence descended on the group, broken only by the laboured sound of Khalil’s breathing, and then Abu nodded.

  ‘Very well. We take him with us and—’

  Cries filled the air. Joanna shrank back as Khalil’s men came riding up the slope. Within minutes, it was over. Abu and his men were defeated.

  With a little sob of joy, Joanna ran to Khalil and threw her arms around him, but he shoved her away.

  ‘Don’t touch me,’ he said in a soft, dangerous whisper.

  ‘Khalil. My love! I was bargaining for your life! Surely you didn’t believe—’

  ‘And now you are bargaining for your own!’ He stepped forward, grasping her arms and yanking her close. ‘Be grateful I am not the savage you think I am,’ he growled. ‘If I were, I would gladly slit your throat and leave you here for the vultures.’ He flung her from him and strode to Najib, who stood waiting beside the white mare. ‘Take her to the airstrip,’ he snapped to one of his men, ‘and have her flown to Casablanca. We have Abu—Sam Bennett can have his daughter.’ He leaped on to Najib’s back, grasped the reins, and gave Joanna one last, terrible look. ‘They deserve each other.’

  He dug his heels hard into Najib’s flanks. The horse rose on its hind legs, pawed the air, then spun away with its rider sitting proudly in the saddle.

  It was the last Joanna saw of Khalil.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE doorman pushed open the door and smiled as Joanna stepped from her taxi and made her way towards him.

  ‘Evening, Miss Bennett,’ he said. ‘Hot enough to fry eggs on the pavement, isn’t it?’

  Joanna smiled back at him. ‘Hello, Rogers. Yes, but New York in August is always pretty awful.’

  The lift operator smiled, too, and offered a similar comment on the weather as the car rose to the twelfth floor, and Joanna said something clever in return, as she was expected to do.

  It was a relief to stop all the smiling and stab her key into the lock of her apartment door. Smiling was the last thing she felt like doing lately. With a weary sigh, she stepped out of her high heels and dropped her handbag on a table in the foyer.

  Sam kept saying she’d developed all the charm of a woman sucking on a lemon, and she supposed it was true—but in the three months she’d been back from Casablanca she hadn’t found all that much to smile about.

  Joanna popped off her earrings as she made her way towards her bedroom. She was vice-president of Bennettco now, she had an office of her own, a staff, and even her father’s grudging respect.

  So why wasn’t it enough? she thought as she peeled off her dress and underthings.

  She stepped into the blue tiled bathroom and turned on the shower. The water felt delicious but she couldn’t luxuriate beneath it for long. In less than an hour, Sam was picking her up. They were going to another of the endless charity affairs he insisted they attend, this time at the Palace Hotel.

  A mirthless smile angled across her lips as she stepped from the shower and towelled herself dry. The Palace. She had been to it before, knew that it dripped crystal chandeliers and carpeting deep enough to cushion the most delicate foot. But she remembered a real palace, one that boasted no such touches of elegance, yet had been more a palace than the hotel would ever be.

  Damn, but she wished she hadn’t seen that little squib in the paper at breakfast! ‘Jandaran Prince Consolidates Hold on Kingdom, Seeks Financing for Mining Project’, it had said, and she’d shoved the paper away without reading further, but it had been enough. A rush of memories had spoiled the day, although she couldn’t imagine why. She didn’t care what happened to Khalil. She had never loved him. How could she have, when they came from such different worlds? It was just that she’d been frightened, and despairing, and there was no point pretending he wasn’t a handsome, virile male.

  An image flashed into her mind as she reached for her mascara. She saw Khalil leaning over her, his eyes dark with desire. Joanna, he was whispering, Joanna, my beloved…

  Her hand slipped and a dark smudge bloomed on her cheek. She wiped it off, then bent towards the mirror again and painted a smile on her lips. What had happened in Jandara was a closed chapter. No one even knew about her part in it, thanks to Sam.

  ‘I didn’t tell a soul,’ he’d said, after she’d finally reached Casablanca.

  ‘Not even the State Department?’ she’d asked, remembering shadowy fragments of something Khalil had said the night he’d abducted her.

  ‘Not even them. I was afraid I might compromise your safety. How could I know what an animal like Khalil might do if I called out the troops? That’s why I couldn’t give in to his demands. I figured once I did, the bastard might kill you. You understand, don’t you?’

  Joanna had assured him that she did. Sam hadn’t been saying anything she hadn’t thought of herself. Sending Abu after her had been the only way he’d thought he could rescue her. As for Abu—Sam had been duped, he’d said with feeling.

  ‘The guy had me fooled. How could I have known what he really was like?’

  Joanna slid open the wardrobe in her bedroom and took a sequinned blue gown from its hanger. The only fly in the ointment was that the proposed mining deal had gone down the tubes. Khalil had wasted no time making sure of that. Within twelve hours, Abu had been sentenced to life imprisonment, Khalil had been restored to the throne of Jandara, and the Bennett contract had been returned by messenger, accompanied by a terse note, signed by Khalil.

  ‘We will develop the property ourselves.’

  Sam had turned red with anger and cursed and then said hell, win some, lose some, what did it matter? He had his Jo back. That was all that counted.

  Joanna whisked a brush through her hair. He was right. That was what counted, that she was back, and if sometimes, at night, she awoke from dreams she could not remember with tears on her cheeks, so what? She was getting ahead rapidly at Bennettco and that was what she wanted. It was all she wanted.

  She glanced at the clock. It was time. Quickly she stuffed a comb, tissues and her lipstick into an evening bag, slipped on a pair of glittery high-heeled sandals, and made her way out of the door.

  Sam was waiting at the kerb in his chauffeured Lincoln. ‘Hello, babe,’ he said when she stepped inside. ‘Mmm, you look delicious.’

  Joanna’s eyebrows rose. ‘What gives?’

  He chuckled as the car eased into traffic. ‘What do you mean, what gives? Can’t I give my girl a compliment?’

  ‘You’re as transparent as glass, Father,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘Whenever you want something from me and you expect a refusal, you begin laying on compliments.’

  He sat back and sighed. ‘I was just thinking, on the way over here, what a terrible time that bastard put us through.’

  Joanna’s smile faded. ‘Khalil?’

  He smiled coldly. ‘What other bastard do we know? To think he locked you up, treated you like dirt—’

  ‘I really don’t want to talk about him tonight, Father.’

  ‘Did you know he’s in town?’

  She shrugged, trying for a casual tone. ‘Is he?’

  Sam grunted. ‘Abu may have been a brute,’ he said, ‘but Khalil’s no
better.’

  Joanna looked at him. ‘You know that’s not true!’

  ‘You’re not defending him, are you, Jo?’

  Was she? Joanna shook her head. ‘No,’ she said quickly, ‘of course not.’

  ‘It burns my butt that the man treated you the way he did and gets rewarded for it,’ Sam said testily. ‘There he is, sitting in Abu’s palace, snug as a quail in tall grass, counting up the coins in the national treasury.’

  Joanna closed her eyes wearily. ‘I doubt that.’

  Sam chuckled. ‘But we’ll have the last laugh, kid. I’ve seen to that.’

  Joanna turned towards her father. There was something in his tone that was unsettling.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We may have lost the mining deal—but so has Khalil!’

  ‘He’s not. He’s going to put together a consortium himself.’

  ‘He’s going to try and milk a fat profit straight into his own pockets, you mean.’

  ‘No,’ Joanna said quickly. ‘He’d never—’

  ‘How do you think he’ll like having the world hear he wanted the fortune tucked away in those mountains so badly he killed for it?’ Sam said, his eyes glittering.

  Joanna stared at her father. ‘Killed who?’

  ‘Abu. Who else?’

  ‘But Khalil didn’t kill him. He’s in prison. And it isn’t because of the fortune in those mountains, it’s—’

  ‘For God’s sake, Jo!’ Sam’s voice lost its cheerful edge and took on a rapier sharpness. ‘Who cares what the facts are? I’m telling you I’ve come up with a way to put a knife in that s.o.b.’s back for what he did to us!’

  ‘Us? Us? He didn’t do anything to us. I was the one he took, the one whose—’