The Sultan's Harem Bride (14 page)

His thumb grazed her bottom lip and she swallowed at the tenderness of the gesture.

‘You think I don’t know that? He was my friend.’

‘But you didn’t know him intimately.’

Jacqui peered up at Asim, trying to read his expression. ‘If you’re asking whether we were lovers, the answer is no.’

He shook his head. ‘I wondered that when you first arrived, but as soon as we made love I realised that wasn’t the case. You were a virgin, weren’t you?’

Jacqui frowned. ‘Did it matter?’ She’d lied so he wouldn’t stop. Because she’d wanted more than anything to be one with him. Her mouth flattened. If only sex was all she wanted from Asim. If only life were so simple.

‘It mattered that you shared something precious with me, Jacqueline. Something to be treasured.’

The gleam in his eyes unnerved her.

‘You were talking about your cousin,’ she said briskly.

For long seconds she thought he wouldn’t accept the change of subject. Finally he spoke. ‘I meant merely that you didn’t know Imran as intimately as someone who’d grown up with him.’

Asim’s mouth curved reminiscently. ‘Let me tell you about my cousin. He could climb before he could walk and he never walked when he could run. His nickname in the family was “Trouble” because he was always in strife. Luckily he had nine lives, like a cat, because he was regularly falling off roofs or down wells or under horses. He took risks others wouldn’t.’

‘Even you?’ Jacqui couldn’t imagine Asim being left behind by his cousin.

‘I never seemed to collect the injuries Imran did.’

So, they’d been as bad as each other.

‘When he got older he found a passion in rally driving.’

‘I’ve seen the photos.’ Jacqui smiled wistfully. Imran had looked in his element, dusty, dishevelled and elated, leaning against a car that looked as if it had barely survived the rigorous course.

‘It wasn’t till he went to college and discovered a love of cameras and film that he became focused. He found his purpose. Some of those stories he got...’ Asim shook his head. ‘He didn’t get them waiting on the sidelines to be assured it was safe.’

Reluctantly Jacqui nodded. Imran had been up to any challenge when it came to getting a story. That had drawn them together in the beginning. She’d put it down to his commitment to his job, but had there been an element of thrill-seeking too?

Of course there had been. But Imran had also been professional, taking appropriate precautions in risky situations, at least when she was around.

‘At first I wanted to blame you for his death. I was looking for a scapegoat.’ Her breath snared as he voiced the guilt she’d carried so long. ‘But I couldn’t do it. It just didn’t fit.’ He paused, his eyes capturing hers. ‘You can’t tell me my cousin would have waited for you to reconnoitre the situation alone.’

Jacqui blinked. When Asim put it like that... But the fact remained it had been her tip-off, her responsibility. ‘I led him into danger.’ She swallowed.

‘No.’ Asim shook his head. ‘You told him what you’d learned. If he’d wanted, he could have turned back. Couldn’t he?’ His eyes held hers. ‘Jacqueline?’

‘I suppose.’

‘Is it likely he’d have waited for you to go off alone and track down the story?’

Under that unblinking ebony stare Jacqui found herself confronting the harsh truth.

‘No.’ The word burst out. ‘No, he wouldn’t have waited. But that doesn’t mean I feel any less guilty.’

‘Because you survived and he didn’t.’ Asim’s arm curved around her shoulders, drawing her into his warmth. ‘He didn’t die because of you, Jacqueline, but because someone cared more for their own ends than the lives of innocents.’

‘I—’ She shook her head, her mouth working.

‘It’s okay to grieve for him,
habibti
, so long as you understand you’re not to blame.’

Jacqui huddled into Asim’s big frame, drawing comfort. What he said wasn’t new, the counsellor had said something similar, but for some reason it seemed to make more sense. Because Asim had known Imran? Because they were here in the desert Imran had loved? Or because Jacqui was finally ready to move on?

She buried her face in Asim’s sweater, breathing in the spicy scent of his skin. Tears leaked beneath her eyelids and she wrapped her arms around him, holding tight as he gathered her in and rocked her.

Jacqui drew a shuddering breath.

She’d come out here because Asim had broken her heart.

Now it felt like he’d put it back together again.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

‘I
T
’
S
UTTERLY
GORGEOUS
.’

Asim watched Jacqui’s eyes widen as she stepped into one of the rooms at the old royal pavilion. She turned slowly, taking in the delicately coloured wall murals and the shallow pool in the centre of the floor, now dry, that glittered with a mosaic of semi-precious stones.

She walked to the wide seats running the length of the walls, dragging her fingertips over the silk cushions, exclaiming over the fine fabric and delicate embroidery.

She was so tactile, so sensual. Asim remembered the way she stroked his flesh or tangled her fingers in his hair whenever they lay together. How, even when physically spent, he enjoyed those soothing caresses.

Regret pierced him. He wasn’t ready to give her up.

If anything, understanding her better and admitting his faults to her as they sat by the fire in the early hours had made her more rather than less appealing. His body craved her with undimmed urgency.

How long before this attraction waned? Weeks? Months? He’d never had a relationship like this. It was new territory.

Asim folded his arms as she pushed open a window and leaned out to take in the oasis view. She wore jeans and a rumpled shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

No wonder his scheme to find a bride had come to naught! He was bewitched by Jacqueline Fletcher.

It had been a mistake, trying to vet well-bred beauties when he was enthralled by this tawny-haired lioness.

She fascinated him. He’d never known a more contradictory woman—brave when standing up for others or for her work, yet vulnerable and unsure of herself. Responsive and generous, yet abrasive when she thought she was being dismissed.

‘It’s like an Arabian Sleeping Beauty’s palace. There are even roses climbing up the wall. You can smell them.’ She turned. ‘I wonder if they’re the ones the women used to make perfume? Did I tell you about that in Zeinab’s diaries?’

‘You told me. But I suspect they gathered petals from the palace gardens. There used to be acres set aside for roses.’

‘Were there?’ She frowned. ‘I didn’t know. There’s so much I haven’t had time to finish researching. But I’ll make do. If it’s okay, I’ll call your staff sometimes to check details.’

‘Why not check them yourself here?’

Her gaze caught his, a flare of amber that scorched before sliding away. ‘It’s best if I leave. After last night you don’t want...’

‘What don’t I want?’ He paced towards her, watching the tension creep up her shoulders and neck.

‘You made it clear we—’

‘I made it clear I’d been a fool and that I regret it.’ He stopped close enough to note the quick rise of her chest.

Her eyes darted to his, surprise clear in their depths. Asim’s mouth quirked mirthlessly. ‘Fool’ wasn’t a word he used of himself but last night it had been true.

And he’d be a fool to let her leave when there was still such pleasure to be gained from their affair. Asim was a man whose life was ruled by duty but he wasn’t into unnecessary self-denial. What they had was too good to throw away.

‘Stay in Jazeer and finish your work, Jacqueline. Write your book.’ He brushed the hair from her face, sliding his fingers over her satiny cheek to cup her face. He felt her tiny tremor and saw her eyelids flicker and knew she wanted this too. ‘Stay with me.’

Jacqui looked into that harsh, beloved face and felt torn in two. She wanted to snuggle close and agree to whatever Asim wanted. But last night had revealed with devastating clarity the dangers of their relationship. When he’d turned on her, it had cut her to the core.

She’d never had a lover before. Maybe that was why she felt so...connected? She’d never been so drawn to a man, never trusted one as she’d trusted him.

Surely it was dangerous to give so much? Life had taught her to expect rejection. That she wasn’t the sort to inspire love or long-term relationships.

‘You’re thinking too much.’ His fingers rubbed her brow. ‘Stop analysing,
habibti
. Can’t we agree to make the most of what we have?’ He leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth, teasing her with the promise of more. Inevitably, longing awoke.

Jacqui leaned back, bracing her hands on his upper arms, only to find that gave him access to her throat. Ruthless as he was, Asim didn’t hesitate to kiss her there, nuzzling each sensitive spot till her knees wobbled and her nipples peaked.

‘Don’t! I need to think.’

Dark eyes held her. ‘Then think about how good we are together. About the pleasure we give each other.’

His voice was mesmerising. She felt it reverberate deep in her belly, felt her caution splinter.

‘Do you want to give that up?’

She shook her head before realising. His smile, pure satisfaction, warned her she’d given away too much.

‘But I think some distance would be sensible.’

Asim scowled. He really was used to getting what he wanted.

‘What’s to be gained by separating? We’re good together.’

‘There are more important things in life than sex.’ Asim overwhelmed her; he had from the first, with his earthy sexuality and potent charm.

‘Don’t we share those too?’ His eyes narrowed to gleaming slits. ‘Don’t we swim together and play chess; debate politics, current affairs and literature?’ He paused. ‘I’ve never spent half the night just talking with a woman. I’ve never shared so much of my life.’

Asim’s face was grim and Jacqui knew he remembered those revelations about his family.

Suddenly it struck her how out of character that had been. He’d been brought up to be Sultan, raised for the solitary role of ruler, shouldering vast responsibilities and keeping his own counsel. Being dictatorial came naturally. Yet with her he’d stopped to listen, even changed his mind on some things, like giving her access to those diaries. He’d trusted her with information she guessed he’d shared with no one else, like those childhood memories and his fears for Samira.

How could she not be moved by that?

Maybe he cared more than she realised. Was that why he wanted her to stay?

Jacqui tried to squash an urgent buzz of excitement that maybe Asim felt as she did.

She waited but he said no more. Should she walk away, preserve her heart and find sanctuary elsewhere?

Or was it too late?

Had she already gone too far?

Fear spiked, pinioning her where she stood.

‘Jacqueline?’ His hands tightened on her arms.

It should have made no difference but she couldn’t help thinking how much she’d miss the sound of him saying her name in that deep, honeyed-coffee voice if she left.

‘I’ll think about it.’ She bit her lip, knowing she prevaricated.

Asim frowned. Clearly he wanted more.

So did she. Badly.

Finally he released her. Instantly she felt bereft. How could she want his touch even as she feared it was wrong to stay?

‘Think about it here. We’ll stay a few days and I’ll show you the desert.’

Jacqui goggled. ‘A few days? You can’t do that. What about your meetings? Your schedule?’ Any idea she might have harboured about his royal role being a sinecure had been shattered by the sight of his daily schedule. Often he didn’t stop work till late evening.

Which meant the time he’d devoted to her really
had been
precious.

Perhaps she was being naïve, expecting more when she already had so much.

‘I’d planned some down time after last night’s celebration. There will be some appointments to move and arrangements to make if we’re to stay here.’ Already he was pulling out his phone. ‘Leave it to me.’

* * *

The sun was setting, its peach and cinnamon blaze gilding the oasis as they rode back from the desert.

Jacqui’s blood tingled under her skin from excitement and exertion. Her mare snorted and she laughed in sheer delight.

‘I knew you’d make a good horsewoman.’

‘Sweet talker!’ She turned to Asim, so at ease in the saddle beside her. He looked relaxed, his smile making something flutter high and hard in her chest.

How precious this day had been. She didn’t want it to end. ‘I suspect your teaching, and the fact you chose such a well-mannered horse, had something to do with it.’ She leaned forward, whispering to the mare. ‘You wouldn’t let me fall, would you?’

‘You underestimate yourself. With more practice, you’ll be a very good rider.’

Jacqui smiled. ‘The only thing that will surprise me is if I can walk when I dismount. I suspect I’m going to be stiff and sore from my first ride.’

‘Don’t worry. A warm bath and a slow massage will do the trick. I’ll take care of it personally.’ Asim’s eyes glowed with promise and Jacqui didn’t have it in her to argue. Under that look she melted, her very bones liquefying.

All day he’d kept his distance and all day she’d chafed at his restraint.

So much for caution.

They’d spent the day exploring the faded finery of the royal pavilion—a sprawling building designed for short retreats. They’d swum in oasis pools and explored caves in a nearby hill where archaeologists had found evidence of an ancient settlement. They’d picnicked lavishly by the oasis, courtesy of staff who’d driven from the city to make the old place comfortable. Then Asim had given her a riding lesson on the most beautiful Arab mare.

‘It’s been a magical day, Asim. Thank you!’

‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed yourself.’ The warmth in his expression made the air catch in her throat.

Her resolve to keep her distance had shattered as they’d shared their day. Somehow that proved more intimate than love-making, especially after their campfire revelations. The last twenty-four hours, even Asim’s accusations and apology, had drawn them closer.

Jacqui couldn’t stop wondering if for Asim, too, this was more than a fling, more than convenient sex.

Had it ever been that for her? She’d tried to tell herself so, but from the first this had been about far more than simple need. It was all about Asim and the wondrous way he made her feel.

They stopped by the stables and Asim swung down, passing his reins to a servant.

‘Let me help you.’ Moments later she was in his arms, pressed to the steady beat of his heart. His eyes met hers and Jacqui knew it was useless to pretend. She’d crossed the point of no return weeks ago, possibly the night Asim had first made love to her, all the while lavishing her with praise and whispered endearments.

Or perhaps it had been earlier, when she’d seen him with Lady Rania, proud yet patient and protective, revealing an emotional bond that told her he was a man capable of caring deeply.

Or even when they’d argued about her being in the palace—having access to things that had never been shared with an outsider. There was something about sparring with Asim that made her feel vibrantly alive.

She curved her hands around his neck and leant close as he nodded to the stable hand and strode towards the main building. She’d never grow tired of how precious she felt, scooped up in his arms. As if she was some delicate treasure.

It was too late to walk away. The die was cast. She’d give him what he wanted, what they both wanted.

There was only so much a woman could take.

* * *

Asim’s mobile phone rang as their bath water cooled. His gaze shifted to the bedroom and he frowned.

‘Answer it,’ she urged, forcing herself to lift her head from his solid shoulder. ‘It must be important.’

Lolling in the massive sunken bath, her body lax and deliciously replete, Jacqui couldn’t begrudge him his call. In the time she’d known him, this was the longest Asim had gone without a meeting. After the first flurry of calls this morning to arrange his time away from the capital, his private line had been silent as he’d devoted his time exclusively to her.

‘Possibly.’ But he leaned in to kiss her full on the mouth in a lush caress that liquefied her already weak limbs. Then gently he put her aside to stand, water sluicing down the strong planes of his body.

Jacqui’s eyelids dropped to half-mast as she took in the display of masculine perfection before her. Too soon, though, he’d grabbed a towel and, grinning at her reaction, strode from the room.

‘I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.’

She sighed and wondered if it were possible for this day to get any better. It had started abysmally but now she felt like she floated on cloud nine.

Finally she made herself move, getting out and wrapping a fluffy bath sheet around her. She was towelling the ends of her hair, walking towards the open bedroom door, when she heard Asim.

‘No, cancel the princess’s visit.’ He paused. ‘I know it’s short notice but I’ve had second thoughts. It can’t go ahead.’ A longer pause. ‘No, not her either. I’ll explain when I’m back, but for now put the whole schedule on hold. No more eligible women.’

Jacqui paused and looked over her shoulder to where Asim spoke on the phone. He stood, magnificently bare-chested, wearing only a stark white towel around his hips.

His eyes caught hers and something about his expression made her still. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Tension? Worry? Determination?

Misgiving feathered cool fingers across her nape. Something wasn’t right.

She turned away and reached for a comb, tidying her damp hair while he finished the call. Even then she waited a few extra moments before entering the bedroom, unable to shake a sense of foreboding.

‘All finished?’

‘Yes.’ Asim turned away and took his time putting the phone on the bedside table. She couldn’t read his face. For some reason that only added to her nebulous anxiety.

‘That sounded intriguing. No more eligible women?’ Jacqui put a smile she didn’t feel in her voice.

Asim turned, faint colour washing his craggy cheekbones. ‘No.’

Warning became a nagging bite of worry. It wasn’t like Asim to be monosyllabic. When he said no more, Jacqui turned towards the wardrobe. She wouldn’t push.

‘I should tell you.’ He paused. ‘Even though it’s ended now.’

Jacqui spun around. ‘What’s ended?’

Asim palmed the back of his neck as if massaging tight muscles. The action drew attention to the formidable strength in his biceps and shoulder, and the musculature of his torso.