Scandal: His Majesty's Love-Child Page 4

  She’d never before thought of feet as sexy.

  Annalisa’s brow puckered. She felt out of her depth.

  ‘Annalisa?’ His voice yanked her mind back and heat seared her cheeks. She kept her head bent and concentrated on what her father had said about head injuries.

  ‘Push against my hands.’ Instantly she felt steady pressure. She smiled and looked up, meeting his narrowed stare. ‘That’s good.’

  Carefully she lowered his feet and moved up beside him, leaning over so he didn’t have to twist to face her.

  ‘Now, take my hands,’ she said briskly, adopting a professional manner. But it was hard when eyes like sapphires fixed unblinkingly on her. She wondered what he saw, whether he read her trepidation and uncertainty.

  Large hands, powerful but marred by scratches, lifted towards her.

  Not allowing herself to hesitate, Annalisa placed her hands in his. She told herself the swirling in her abdomen was relief that he was well enough to cooperate.

  ‘Now, squeeze,’ she murmured, ignoring the illusion of intimacy engendered by their linked hands.

  Again the pressure was equal on both left and right sides. Her shoulders dropped a fraction as relief surged. For now the signs were good.

  She moved to pull back, slide her hands from his. Instantly long fingers twined with hers, holding her still.

  Her heart gave a juddering thump as their gazes meshed. She realised how she leaned across him, the heat of his bare torso warming her through the thin fabric of her clothes. The way his eyes flashed with something unidentifiable yet disturbing. Her breathing shortened. She felt vulnerable, though he was the injured one.

  ‘What are you checking?’ The words were crisp. Not slurred like when he’d called out in his sleep.

  ‘Just making sure your reactions are normal.’ She met his gaze steadily, refusing to mention the possibility of bleeding to the brain. ‘They are. You should be up and about in no time.’

  ‘Good. I find I have a burning desire to bathe. You said this is an oasis?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Then there’s no problem getting water.’ He paused. ‘I’ll need someone from your party to help me get upright.’

  ‘There’s only me. And I don’t think bathing is a good idea yet.’

  His eyes darkened in surprise. ‘You’re alone?’

  She nodded.

  ‘You’re a remarkable woman, Annalisa Hansen.’ His grip loosened and she found herself free. Belatedly she remembered to straighten so she didn’t hover over him.

  ‘Do you do this often? Camp alone in the desert?’

  She shook her head. ‘This is the first time I’ve been here alone.’ Stupidly her voice wobbled on the last word and his eyes narrowed. Abruptly she looked away.

  It was almost six months to the day since her father died. Maybe it was the looming anniversary that sideswiped her, dredging up such grief sometimes she thought she couldn’t bear it.

  Abruptly he spoke, changing the subject. ‘If you knew how much sand I’ve swallowed you wouldn’t begrudge me your help to get clean.’ He levered himself up on one elbow, then pushed himself higher to sit, swaying beside her.

  He ignored her protests, setting his jaw with a steely determination and clambering stiffly to his knees. Finally she capitulated and helped him, realising she couldn’t stop him.

  It was only later she remembered the look in his bright eyes as grief had stabbed her out of nowhere.

  Had he read her pain and decided to distract her?

  No, the idea was absurd.

  Tahir cursed himself for being every kind of fool as he sat in the pool and let water slide around his aching body. He’d known moving was a bad idea, but he refused to play the invalid.

  Bad enough that his brain wasn’t functioning. The more he tried to remember the more the ache in his skull intensified, matching the searing pain in his ribs. He let his thoughts skitter from the possibility the damage was permanent. He wouldn’t accept that option.

  It made him even more determined to conquer his physical weakness.

  Then there was the memory of Annalisa’s soft brown eyes, brimming with distress as she avoided his gaze.

  Despite her brisk capability he sensed pain, a deep vulnerability. Looking into her shadowed eyes, Tahir had felt an overwhelming need to wipe her hurt away.

  Enough to brave getting to his feet.

  Fool! He’d almost collapsed. Only her support had kept him upright the few metres to the water. Now he sat waist-deep, naked but for the silk boxers he’d kept on in deference to her presence, wondering how he’d summon the strength to return to the tent.

  Wondering how long he could keep his eyes off the woman who sat watchfully beside the stream.

  It had been torture of a different sort, allowing her to undress him. Her soft hands fumbling at his trousers had been a torment that had made him forget for a brief moment the pain bombarding him. The sight of her kneeling before him, drawing his trousers off as he leaned on her shoulder, had evoked sensations no invalid should feel.

  Then she’d waded into the water, supporting him. She’d been heedless of the way their unsteady progress had sent up sprays of water that soaked large patches of her trousers and shirt.

  But Tahir hadn’t.

  When he shut his eyes he still saw her lace bra outlined against transparent cotton, cupping voluptuous breasts that strained forward as she steadied him. He remembered the neat curve of her hip, the narrow elastic ridge of bikini underwear where her trousers plastered her skin, then the long supple line of her thigh.

  Tahir’s mouth dried and it had nothing to do with the arid air.

  He should be frantically trying to remember who he was. Trying to piece together the fragments of memory, like snippets of disjointed film, swirling in his head.

  Instead his thoughts circled back to Annalisa. Who was she? Why was she here?

  Despite the cool water, his groin throbbed as he watched her patting a spindly-legged goat.

  Was he like this with other women? So easily aroused?

  He remembered the woman at the casino. The one in beads and diamonds and little else, who’d been so amorous. The memory didn’t spark anything. No heat. No desire.

  Tahir frowned. He had an unsettling presentiment he should be very worried by his reactions to Annalisa Hansen.

  Bathing in the wadi had been a huge mistake. Annalisa bit her lip as Tahir mumbled in his sleep, his dark brows arrowing fiercely in a scowl. These last hours he’d grown unsettled and she’d feared for him, giving up her position by the telescope to sit at his side.

  He rolled, one arm outflung, dislodging the blanket and baring his chest to the rapidly cooling night air.

  She strove not to think about the fact that he was naked beneath the bedding. He’d barely made it back from bathing when he’d collapsed on the makeshift bed, shucking off his wet boxers with complete disregard for her presence. She doubted he’d even realised she was there.

  But to her chagrin she had perfect recall. Detailed recall. A blush warmed her throat at the memory of his tightly curved buttocks, heavily muscled thighs and—

  ‘Father!’ The hoarse groan yanked her into the present.

  Tahir’s head thrashed and Annalisa winced, thinking of the lump on his skull.

  ‘Shh. It’s all right, Tahir. You’re safe.’ Whatever nightmares his injuries conjured, they rode him like demons. He sounded desperate.

  She leaned across, touching his forehead. His temperature was normal, thank God, but—

  A hand snapped around her wrist and dragged it to his side. The movement caught her off balance. She tugged, but the harder she fought, the more implacable his hold, till she leant right across him. His frown deepened, and his firmly sculpted lips moved silently, the muscles of his jaw clenching beneath dark stubble.

  He pulled. With an oof of escaping air she landed on him. Frantically she tried to find purchase without digging her elbows into his ribs, but his o
ther arm came round her. There was no escape.

  ‘He sent you, didn’t he?’ The words were a low growl.

  ‘No one sent me.’ She tried to slip down out of his grip but he simply lashed his arm tighter round her back, dragging her till she lay over him, her legs sinking between his when he moved.

  Heat radiated up from tense muscles and she stiffened. With each breath she was aware of his chest, his hipbones, his thighs like hot steel around her.

  ‘He knew what he was doing, damn him.’ Tahir’s voice was rough and deep, resonating up from his chest and right through her.

  Annalisa struggled to ignore her fascination at being so close, encircled by him. Even with Toby, even when he’d taken her in his arms and talked of a future together, she had never been this close. This…intimate. He’d respected that in Qusay a woman’s chastity was no light gift to bestow. He’d promised to wait. Except their bright future had never eventuated.

  ‘Houri…’ Tahir mumbled, and his searing breath feathered her scalp. Tremors ran down her spine and spread in slow-turning circles through her belly. ‘Temptress.’

  His grip eased and he smoothed a hand down her back. It felt so good she fought not to arch into his touch, like a cat responding to a caress. Spread across him, in full-length contact as he stroked her and murmured in her ear, Annalisa felt an unravelling in the pit of her stomach. A heat that was unfamiliar and edgy and worrying.

  His hand moulded her buttocks, dragging her closer. The unmistakable ridge of male arousal against the apex of her thighs grew pronounced and she bit her lip as his caress rubbed her against it.

  He didn’t know what he was doing. Yet the pulse building between her legs and the heat there proved that didn’t matter. She shuddered in horrified excitement at her own arousal.

  Who’d known a man’s body could feel so very good?

  ‘Mustn’t…’ His voice died as his hands stopped their trawling caress. He drew a shuddering breath that pushed his chest to her breasts. Annalisa shut her eyes, willing herself not to react even as her nipples peaked in delight.

  She waited a few moments then tried to ease away. Instantly his embrace hardened, imprisoning her.

  Tahir grew quiet, his mutterings less vehement.

  Annalisa waited ten minutes then tried again. Even in sleep Tahir held her tight, refusing to release her.

  Telling herself she had no choice but to bide her time till he was completely relaxed, she gave up the unequal struggle to hold herself even marginally away. Her head sagged and her muscles went limp as she sank into him. She was going nowhere yet.

  A shaft of early-morning light woke Tahir. Instantly the familiar low-grade hum of abused muscles, torn flesh and a battered head roused him to full wakefulness.

  And something else. Sexual awareness.

  More than awareness. Delight drenched him as he absorbed the full extent of his good fortune.

  He lay on his side with Annalisa in his embrace. Her head was on his arm, her knees bent, allowing his bare legs to spoon in behind her. He breathed deep and the sweet fragrance of her hair filled his nostrils, shimmering there like a promise of pleasures to come. She was warm and curved, slim but rounded, exactly where it counted.

  Not daring to breathe, Tahir gently flexed his fingers, cupping the exquisite ripeness of her breast. He’d pushed her shirt aside and her bra was soft, a thin layer of lace between his fingers and her feminine bounty.

  His breath whistled out from contracting lungs and he cursed silently, not ready yet for her to wake and move away. It was clear that whatever had led to them sharing the narrow mattress, it wasn’t sex. Annalisa was fully clothed.

  But clothes provided little protection. Not when he lay flush against her.

  He shut his eyes, realising exactly how aroused he was. The sweet curve of her buttocks pressed against him in unconscious invitation. Her warmth enclosed him and he fought rising lust. Fought the need to thrust against her and appease the hunger eating at his belly. Or better yet, to tear those light trousers away and bury himself deep within her pliant, lush body.

  Pain shot through him and Tahir realised he’d locked his jaw so tight it felt as if he might dislocate it.

  Slowly he breathed, telling himself to move. He had no right to hold her like this. But he wanted…how badly he wanted her.

  For long minutes he lay, tense and still, his instincts at war. His palm pressed against her breast and he couldn’t help tightening his grip, his fingers encircling her budding nipple.

  Was this the sort of man he was? To take advantage of a sleeping woman? A woman who’d shown him nothing but kindness and not a hint of sexual interest?

  His breath shuddered out, riffling her dark unbound hair.

  He didn’t even know if he was married. Committed to a woman far away and worried about him.

  The notion sliced like ice-cold steel through the searing heat of sexual excitement. Moments later he slid away, drawing back carefully so as not to wake her.

  Every movement was torment.

  The sun was high when Annalisa woke.

  She remembered Tahir holding her with a strength that belied his injuries. Remembered realising she needed to wait till his nightmare subsided before escaping.

  She recalled the unfamiliar but unmistakable response of her body to Tahir’s embrace. Her skin flushed all over as she remembered how she’d revelled in his hardness, his masculine power, even the musky spice scent of his freshly washed skin.

  Hastily she tugged her shirt closed, grateful he wasn’t there to see how it had come undone during the night.

  She suppressed panic that he wasn’t there. Surely that was a good sign—that he had enough energy to get up without assistance.

  Nevertheless she didn’t linger. Despite his strength and his formidable determination he was far from well.

  She saw him immediately she left the tent.

  He sat with his back against a palm tree, long legs outstretched. He wore the trousers she’d washed and set aside for him. He wasn’t naked, as when he’d clasped her close. Yet Annalisa shivered as awareness trickled through her middle, igniting a scorching heat.

  Memories of last night and her burgeoning physical responses swamped her. Guilt rose that she’d reacted so to a man who was vulnerable and in her care.

  And confusion. In twenty-five years she’d never responded so to any other man.

  With his broad bared chest and shoeless feet he looked untamed, elemental, despite his tailored dress trousers. Annalisa recalled the texture of that fine fabric. Even to her untutored touch she knew it to be of finest quality. Proof that Tahir came from a place far beyond here. That he belonged in another milieu.

  Yet, sitting with the sunlight glancing off the golden skin of his straight shoulders, he looked at home. Like a rakish marauder taking his ease. Only the bruises mottling his ribs and the gash at his temple belied the image.

  She followed the play of muscles across his chest as he leaned sideways. Annalisa tried and failed to ignore a disturbing new sensation deep in her abdomen.

  It felt curiously like hunger.

  ‘Here.’ He hadn’t noticed her, but spoke instead to the tiny goat he’d carried into the oasis. It stood beside him, stretching up towards a scanty green bush. Tahir reached out an arm and drew a slender branch low enough for the animal to reach.

  She didn’t know another man who’d bother. Here in Qusay, except for prized horses, animals weren’t cosseted.

  Despite his outrageously potent masculinity, there was a softer side to him.

  Had she imagined Tahir’s motives last night? She’d been almost convinced part of his abrupt determination to wash was because he’d seen the stupid tears misting her eyes when she thought of her father. Could he really have sought to divert her thoughts?

  It seemed ludicrous, and yet…

  ‘Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakes.’ Eyes bright as the morning sun gleamed under straight dark brows. With his burnished skin and black-as-midnight hai
r those light eyes should have looked wrong somehow.

  Yet Annalisa knew with a sinking certainty, as her pulse sped, that she’d never seen a more handsome man. His half-smile drove a deep crease up one lean cheek and her gaze fixed on it with an intensity that appalled her.

  ‘I hope you didn’t need me earlier,’ she murmured. ‘I can’t imagine why I overslept.’

  ‘Can’t you?’ This time he smiled fully, and Annalisa reached out to grab the tent post as her heart kicked and her knees loosened.

  What was happening to her?

  All her life she’d been sensible, responsible, dutiful. Never, not even on the brink of marriage, had she been swept away by the sheer presence of a man.

  ‘From the little I recall I’d guess you’ve been running yourself ragged caring for me.’

  Annalisa blinked and made herself move from the tent. It felt absurdly as if she was stepping away from safety. But the only danger lay in her reckless response to those piercing blue eyes.

  ‘I packed up your telescope, by the way.’

  Swiftly Annalisa turned to the place where her father’s telescope had been last night. The location hadn’t been ideal, close to the lights of the camp, but she hadn’t liked to move too far away in case Tahir needed her.

  Swiftly she knelt to undo the battered case.

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, frantically trying to remember whether she’d covered the lens before going last night to sit with Tahir through his nightmare. If the wind had risen and blasted sand across the lens—

  ‘It seemed okay when I packed it up.’

  He was right. There was no damage. Relieved, she sank back on her heels. ‘You know about telescopes?’

  He shrugged. Unwillingly Annalisa followed the fluid movement of his shoulders.

  ‘Who knows?’ His lazy smile slipped and for a moment he looked grim, his eyes cooling to an icy blue.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ How could she be so clumsy? ‘I’m sure you’ll remember soon.’ Impulsively she stood and walked towards him, only to stop at his side, self-conscious.

  ‘No doubt you’re right.’ His easy smile belied the gravity of his expression. ‘Sit with me?’