Demanding His Desert Queen Page 8

  Karim looked good—better than good. The traditional robes suited him, accentuating his height, the breadth of his chest and the purity of his strong bone structure that made his stern face so appallingly attractive. He’d discarded his headscarf and for some reason the sight of his close-cropped black hair after the formality of their wedding celebration seemed too...intimate.

  As did the fact he was in her private rooms!

  ‘Karim!’

  Safiyah swung round, her arms falling to her sides. How long had she held them up? Her hands prickled with pins and needles. Her nape too, and then her whole spine as she met those hooded eyes. His stare was intense, skewering her to the spot and totally at odds with his relaxed stance. He leaned with one shoulder propped against the doorjamb.

  Safiyah swallowed, then swiped her dry mouth with her tongue. Karim didn’t move a muscle, but she sensed a change in him. The air crackled. The tingling along her backbone drove inwards, filling her belly with a fluttering as if a thousand giant moths flapped there, frantically trying to reach the glowing moon that hung in the night sky.

  ‘What are you doing here, Karim?’ Finally she collected herself enough to clasp her hands at her waist to conceal the way they trembled.

  ‘I’ve come to see you, obviously.’ He straightened and crossed towards her, making the room claustrophobically close. ‘Turn around.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Safiyah gaped up at the face that now hovered far too close.

  His expression gave nothing away. ‘Turn around so I can help with the pins.’

  ‘I don’t need any help.’

  Too late. He’d lifted his hands and she found herself encircled by the drape of snowy white fabric, deliciously scented with sandalwood and hot male. Very hot male. Her cheeks flushed and something disturbing rippled through her.

  Desire. Memory. The recollection of how she’d lost herself in his kiss.

  He plucked at a pin, twisted another. ‘Shh...don’t fidget. Let me finish this, then we can talk.’

  Relief cascaded through her. He wanted to talk. Probably about tomorrow’s festivities. She was letting her unguarded responses get the better of her.

  When they talked, the first item on her agenda would be to make it clear he couldn’t stroll into her rooms whenever he felt like it. But she’d rather make her point when they were out in the sitting room. Having him in this very private space was too unsettling.

  Safiyah drew a slow breath and nodded, wincing when his hold on the tiara stopped it moving with her.

  ‘Sorry.’

  Her eyes were on a level with his collarbone and she watched, bemused, the play of muscles in his throat. How could something so ordinary look...sexy?

  ‘Wait. I’ll turn.’ Anything to give her breathing space.

  But when she turned she was confronted with a mirror image of him looming behind her, his shoulders too wide, too masculine. Especially when the dance of his fingers in her hair felt like a deliberate caress.

  He was surprisingly deft, making her wonder what experience he’d had in unpinning women’s hair. Safiyah had no doubt he’d undressed plenty of women in his time. But, to her shock, she discovered having Karim undo her hair felt almost as intimate in its own way as sex had felt with Abbas.

  She blinked, stunned at the idea, and found herself looking into a stare that sent fiery shivers trailing to a point deep inside her. That elusive place where, just once or twice, as Abbas had taken his pleasure with her, there’d been a hint that she too might discover something more—

  ‘There.’

  Did she imagine Karim’s voice was huskier? He lifted the tiara off with one hand, and Safiyah was about to thank him when he ploughed his fingers through her hair, dragging it down to her shoulders.

  His eyes held hers in the mirror as he used his hand like a comb, spreading her hair around her shoulders. Each stroke was a slow, delicious assault on her senses.

  Safiyah felt the stiffness ease from her neck and spine...detected an urge to lean into that stroking touch. Horrified, she stepped forward—so fast that her hair snagged on the ancient gold ring that had been placed on his finger at his investiture today. Her head was yanked back, but she welcomed the pain because it broke the spell.

  ‘Sorry.’

  He frowned and worked his hand free, during which time she took the tiara from his other hand. Then she moved away, replacing it in the velvet-lined box with the earrings and bangles.

  Snapping the lid closed, she spun round. ‘Shall we?’

  She didn’t wait for a response but preceded him out of the dressing room and back to the bedroom. She was on her way towards her sitting room when his words stopped her.

  ‘Here’s fine.’

  ‘Here?’

  She swung around. Karim stood midway between the dressing room door and the bed. There were no seats in the room apart from a long cushioned sofa.

  ‘We’ll be more comfortable in the sitting room.’

  ‘Oh, I doubt that, Safiyah.’

  That deliberate tone sent a shot of adrenalin through her already tense body.

  Suddenly, as if a curtain had been yanked back, Karim’s expression was no longer impenetrable. She read a glitter in those eyes that was shockingly familiar. Safiyah recognised the look of a man with sex on his mind. She almost fancied she saw the flicker of flames in Karim’s dark eyes. The tendons at the base of his neck stood proud, and though he made no move towards her there was a waiting stillness in his tall frame that unnerved her.

  Involuntarily, Safiyah backed up a step. To keep him from reaching for her or to stop herself doing something foolish?

  In that second of realisation she was torn between dismay and the need to throw herself into Karim’s embrace and let him do whatever he wanted.

  Because she wanted. She’d been on a knife-edge of frustrated desire since that kiss in Switzerland and she despised herself for it.

  ‘No!’ She felt her eyes widen as he frowned. ‘We’re not doing that.’

  ‘That?’ he murmured. ‘How coy you are.’

  His mouth curled at the corners as if he were amused. Damn him. As if he knew she didn’t even want to think about sex with him, much less say it out loud. As if he knew how desperately she fought the desire to do more than talk about it.

  Safiyah stiffened her spine. She might not have Karim’s no doubt vast experience. But that didn’t make her a fool or a push-over.

  Her chin hiked up. ‘You seem to forget this marriage is for political reasons.’

  ‘So? That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the personal benefits.’

  The word ‘personal’ was a rough burr that rubbed across her skin, making the fine hairs on her arms stand erect.

  ‘Can you honestly tell me you don’t want me?’

  His words sucked the air from her lungs as she realised he’d read her secret. Of course he had. He’d had to peel her off him to end that kiss in his hotel suite. The memory mocked her.

  Karim crossed his arms over his chest. The gesture emphasised both his powerful frame and that annoying air of arrogance. And, to her consternation, his sheer, unadulterated sex appeal.

  She tried to concentrate on his arrogance. Even Abbas at his most regal had never irritated her with just a look. Karim did it with merely a raised eyebrow and the knowing gleam in eyes that looked smoky with intent.

  Their marriage wasn’t about them as individuals, but he saw no reason to deny himself a little sexual diversion with his new spouse. She was here, he was bored, or he wanted to celebrate, or maybe he just wanted to amuse himself at her expense. In Switzerland he hadn’t bothered to hide his disdain.

  She planted her hands on her hips and paced a step nearer as hurt, fury and frustration coalesced. ‘I’m not a convenience, here for your pleasure, Karim. We established before we married that I won’t share my bed with you.
’

  The lingering hint of a smile on that long mouth stiffened. He shook his head, taking his own step forward so they stood almost toe to toe and she had to tilt her neck to look down her nose at him.

  Safiyah knew better than to back away. He’d take advantage of any show of weakness. So she was close enough to read what looked like conflicting emotions as he spoke.

  ‘Believe me, there’s nothing convenient about this, Safiyah. As for what you said before we married...’ he spread his hands wide ‘...you’re allowed to change your mind.’

  ‘You don’t really want sex with me, Karim. You’re just here to score a point. To amuse yourself. It’s a power thing, isn’t it?’

  He was just reinforcing the fact that he was the one in this marriage who had the power, not her. He might have been kind to Tarek but with her he was ruthless.

  ‘You’re not even attracted to me. You made that clear the day you came to my hotel suite.’ She refused to let her voice wobble as she recalled his dismissal.

  ‘I did?’ His mouth lifted at one side, but it didn’t quell the impact of that hungry stare.

  The air thickened and her breaths grew shallow as she fought to tug in enough oxygen. Her insides clenched and she pressed her thighs tight together, trying to counteract the bloom of heat at her centre. How could she feel furious and aroused at the same time?

  ‘Don’t play games, Karim. You said it was an experiment that proved you weren’t interested.’

  ‘An experiment, yes. But the results were obvious. Like a match to bone-dry kindling. If I hadn’t stepped away when I did we’d have had sex on the sofa.’

  Safiyah was so stunned she couldn’t find her voice. She went hot, then cold, as her brain produced an all too vivid image of them naked on that sofa. Those long arms holding her close, that muscular body cradled between her thighs...

  A shiver ripped through her and his eyes turned darker when he saw it.

  Suddenly Safiyah knew she was in real danger—not from Karim but from herself. How easy it would be to give in and say yes, despite her pride and the way he’d treated her.

  ‘It didn’t occur to you that I was experimenting too? That maybe you misread my curiosity for something more?’ It was an outright untruth, but it was all she could think of to rebut him. ‘If you think I pined for you for years you’re wrong. I didn’t.’

  That, at least, was true. She hadn’t let herself pine. She’d tried to excise what she felt for him—like amputating a limb, cutting herself off from emotion. It had been the only way to survive. Lingering on what might have been would have destroyed her as depression had almost destroyed her sister. For five years Safiyah had been emotionally self-contained, her only close relationships with Rana and Tarek.

  ‘Of course you didn’t pine for me. You had another prince to snare.’

  The sneer in his tone was like a slap. As if she’d deliberately set out to lure either him or Abbas into marriage! But before she could snap out a rebuttal he leaned forward, invading her space, filling her senses with the tang of hot male skin, with pheromones that made her all but salivate with longing.

  ‘You wanted me in Switzerland, Safiyah. We both know it.’

  The words ground through her, making her shiver. ‘And you want me now. Every time we get close I read it in your eyes, in your body.’

  His gaze dropped to her aching breasts as if he could see the hard nipples thrusting towards him even through the heavy patterned fabric.

  Safiyah shook her head. The thick hair he’d undone slipped around her shoulders. She wished it could conceal her totally. She wanted to hide where he couldn’t find her. Where she wouldn’t have to face the truth about herself. That she wanted Karim as she’d never wanted any other man. Still.

  ‘You’re imagining things, Karim.’ She paused and swallowed hard. ‘I don’t want you.’

  His steady stare should have unnerved her, but she refused to look away. She’d done what she had to in order to save her son. Now she’d do what she must to save her sanity. Sex with Karim would be the worst possible idea.

  Yet when he took that last tiny step that brought him flush against her, his feet straddling hers, it wasn’t disgust that made her breath hitch. They were both fully clothed, yet everywhere they touched—her breasts against his torso, her thighs against his—fire ignited.

  ‘Prove it.’

  The words were warm air on her superheated flesh.

  ‘Kiss me and walk away.’

  Safiyah’s gasp only succeeded in pressing her breasts against him.

  ‘I don’t need to prove anything.’ Holding that moss-green stare grew harder by the second. In her peripheral vision she saw that firm mouth, like a magnet dragging her gaze.

  ‘One kiss and I’ll leave—if you want me to.’

  ‘Of course I do. I want...’ Her words died as a warm palm cupped her cheek, long fingers channelling through her hair, creating sensations so delicious that despite everything her eyelids grew heavy.

  His other hand didn’t grab at her, didn’t force her close. Instead it settled light as a leaf on her shoulder, then slowly slid down the outside of her arm, and down...down to her hand where her fingers trembled.

  He’d promised no coercion and he kept his promise. But the compulsion welling within her to give in to him was almost overwhelming. Safiyah stifled a sob at the strain of withstanding this torture.

  He captured her wrist with a surprising gentleness. It was as if he cast a spell that kept her rooted to the spot, breathless. Even when he raised her hand and she felt the press of his lips to her palm, the hot, lavish swipe of his tongue setting off swirling sparks inside her, his compelling gaze and her enthralled brain kept her where she was.

  He planted her palm against his cheek. She felt the hot silk of his flesh and the tiniest hint of roughness along his jaw, where by morning he’d need to shave. Under his guidance her hand moved up to his hairline, and of their own volition her fingers channelled through the plush luxury of his hair.

  So many sensations to absorb. Not least of which was the fascinating play of light...or was it darkness?... in Karim’s eyes in response to her touch.

  Safiyah’s breath hissed as everything in her tightened. She had to move away, break this illusion of intimacy. Her brain told her that he was toying with her, but it felt so...

  ‘We both want, Safiyah. And it will be good between us, I promise.’ Again there was that curve of his mouth on one side, as if the flesh there were drawn too tight. ‘Better than good. It will be—’

  ‘Mama! Mama!’

  A door banged and a woman’s voice came from the next room. Then, before Safiyah could do more than turn her head, a small whirlwind shot through the door and landed against her legs.

  ‘Tarek! What is it?’

  She scooped him up and he clung, wrapping his arms and legs around her. He felt hot, and his face was damp as he burrowed against her. Automatically she murmured soothing words, clasping him tight.

  ‘I’m sorry, madam—’ Just inside the doorway the nanny jolted to a halt so suddenly she swayed. Her expression grew horrified as she took in Karim’s presence and she sank into a deep curtsey. ‘Your Majesty. My apologies, I didn’t know—’

  ‘No need for apologies,’ Karim said. ‘Clearly it’s an emergency.’

  ‘Just a nightmare, sir. I could have managed, but madam said—’

  ‘You did right,’ Safiyah assured her, rubbing a gentle hand over Tarek’s skinny back and taking a few steps across to the bed, so she could sit down, holding her son close. ‘I gave instructions to bring Tarek here if he needed me.’

  It had been liberating, giving that order. When Abbas had been alive he’d demanded the nanny deal with any night-time upset without Safiyah, lest they were interrupted on a night he’d decided to visit his wife’s bed.

  ‘It is just a nigh
tmare, isn’t it?’ Safiyah put her hand to Tarek’s forehead as she rocked him in her arms. ‘Not a temperature?’

  The nanny rose, nodding. ‘Just a bad dream, madam, but he kept calling for you.’

  ‘Then he’s in the right place now.’

  It was Karim who spoke, drawing Safiyah’s gaze. He didn’t look as if he’d just been interrupted seducing his wife. She saw no impatience or annoyance. In fact he smiled as he told the nanny she could leave.

  If it had been Abbas there’d have been cold fury and harsh words. Not because he’d been evil, but because he’d believed he was entitled to have his own way. That the world was ordered to suit him. He hadn’t been deliberately cruel, but nor had he been sympathetic or used to considering others.

  Safiyah looked from the departing maid to Karim, wondering how it was that this man, who’d also been raised to be supreme ruler, could react so differently. Where was the man who’d been so cold and distant in Switzerland?

  Rueful eyes met hers and she felt again that pulse of awareness. It hadn’t gone. His plans had merely been deferred. The realisation stirred excitement in her belly.

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘Calmer.’ Tarek wasn’t trembling now, though he still buried his head against her. Soon he’d be ready to talk. ‘I’ll keep him with me...settle him here.’

  She waited for a protest from Karim but there was none. He walked to the bed and placed a large hand on her son’s shoulder.

  ‘Everything’s going to be all right, Tarek. Your mother and I will make sure of it.’

  To Safiyah’s surprise Tarek lifted his head, sniffing, and nodded at Karim. Her husband smiled at the boy, then moved away.

  ‘I’ll leave you two to rest. Get a good night’s sleep. It’s going to be a big day tomorrow.’

  Karim slanted her a look that made her toes curl. Then he drew a breath that made that impressive chest swell.

  ‘You’ve had a lot to deal with, Safiyah. We’ll discuss this later, when you’ve had time to adjust. After the wedding. But make no mistake: this is unfinished business.’