Читать книгу Desert Sheikhs Collection: Part 2 - Susan Mallery, Alexandra Sellers - Страница 14

“I’m scared,” Jasmine blurted out.

Tariq turned to face her. “Scared?”

She nodded. “They’re so big and…”

To her surprise, he walked over and pulled her into a gentle embrace. “Don’t worry, Mina, I’ll take care of you.”

“Promise?” Her voice was shaky. She hadn’t thought through the idea of what a trip on the back of a camel would entail. It had been something vague and slightly exotic.

“What is this?” Tariq moved back, his hands on her shoulders, eyes dark with concern. “You’re terrified.”

She nodded, miserable. “I can’t stand heights and their backs are so high.”

“There is no other way to reach the tribe or we’d take it.” He cupped her cheeks in his palms.

“It’s okay. I can handle it,” she lied.

“So brave, Mina.” He rubbed his thumb over her quivering lower lip. “The car is still here. You may return home.”

Jasmine’s head jerked up. He’d been so domineering in his demand that she accompany him that this concession was a real surprise. “You don’t want me to come anymore?”

“I would not have you suffer.”

She bit her lower lip. “How long will this trip take?”

Tariq dropped his hands to her waist. “It’ll take three days to reach Zeina. With the time I must spend there and the return trip, a week and a half is an optimistic guess.”

A week and a half! She couldn’t bear to be parted from him for that long. “I’ll come. Can I ride with you?”

He nodded. There was approval in the soft kiss he dropped on her lips. “You can snuggle your face against my chest and close your eyes, just like you do in bed.”

She blushed. It was true that she liked to sleep with her head on his chest, her arms and legs spread over him, but she hadn’t realized that he’d noticed her preference. She raised her hand and stroked his jaw, which was shadowed by his white head covering. “Thank you, Tariq.”

“You are welcome, my wife. Come, it is time to go.”

Sometimes, Jasmine thought, as Tariq helped her mount the sway-backed creature, her husband could be the most thoughtful of men. He mounted behind her before she could begin to panic. For the ride, both of them were in wide-legged pants and tunics, their heads and necks also covered from the harsh sun.

Her stomach lurched at the camel’s first step, but she kept her eyes resolutely forward, determined to conquer this fear if it killed her. The endless desert vista was an unexpected ally, tranquil and beautiful. By the time they stopped for the day, she was watching everything with wide eyes. The camel’s rolling gait was a little disconcerting, but as long as she didn’t look directly at the ground, no nausea arose. And in truth, her husband’s strong grip around her waist almost gave her the confidence to do that as well.

However, she understood that even he couldn’t help her with a sore rear. They had stopped at a hidden desert oasis for the night when she discovered just how bad it hurt. After they arrived, she excused herself and walked until she was out of sight of the men. She quickly took care of her needs and then stood in the shadow of a small tree, rubbing her sore behind.

Tariq’s low chuckle made her spin around, face flaming. He was standing less than a foot away, his arms crossed over his chest, a wide smile on his aristocratic face.

“What are you doing here?” She dropped her hands and started to walk past him, embarrassed.

He caught her around the waist with one arm and swung her against his hard body. She turned her face away. Tariq nuzzled her neck affectionately. “Don’t be angry, Mina. I was worried when you didn’t return to camp.”

Mollified, and melting from his warm touch, she decided to be honest. “It hurts.” For the first time since she’d arrived in this land, she felt ill at ease, a foreigner unused to the ways of these exotic people. She needed Tariq’s comfort. What she got was something totally unexpected.

His hands dropped to her bottom and began to massage her aching flesh with soothing strokes. “It will get worse before it gets better. I believe that’s a Western saying.”

She groaned, too relieved to be embarrassed. His hands felt like magic, but she knew that if he kept going, she’d do something silly like ask him to make love to her. Shoving at his chest, she backed away, her legs shaky.

“We, um…better return or we’ll miss dinner.” She didn’t look him in the eye, afraid of her own hungry desire.

His disappointed sigh was loud in the silence. “You are correct, Mina. Come.” He held out his hand. Jasmine slipped her palm into his and they made their way to camp.

Her wicked husband leaned over and said, “I promise to soothe your sore muscles tonight, my Jasmine. I wouldn’t have you so aching from riding that I couldn’t ride you,” just as they reached camp. A blazing blush stole over her.

The other men took one look at her and smiled knowingly. Ignoring them, Jasmine sat down next to Tariq. He sat to her left and a little in front of her, protecting her from the curious looks. Jasmine almost smiled at his possessiveness, but didn’t challenge him. Aside from the fact that she was relieved she didn’t have to face everyone in her current state, she would never dishonor Tariq in front of his people. In private, she felt free to question him, but deep instinct told her it would be a betrayal to do so publicly.

It wasn’t just that Tariq was sheik in a desert land, where men possessively protected their women even as they cherished them. It was him. He was a very private man, a man who met the world wearing a mask. His pride was tied to his inherently private nature.

To his people, Tariq was approachable and kind, but he maintained an aristocratic reserve that was appropriate to his role. However, in New Zealand, he’d utterly frozen out her family, his contempt for their manipulative games completely undetectable. Yet with Jasmine he’d been warm, playful, teasing and, most of all, loving.

Four years later, she understood that only she had seen the man behind the mask. He’d trusted her. Even now he was really himself with her only occasionally—times when he seemed to forget the past. The rest of the time, he wore a mask for her, that of a man who would “own” his woman. It was a mask, she told herself. Her Tariq was hidden behind it.

After the evening meal, there was a short discussion in the native language of Zulheil. It was a beautiful language, but one she hadn’t yet mastered.

“You were discussing sleeping arrangements?” she asked Tariq, when he turned to her. His eyes were hooded by the edge of his headgear, but she could see the campfire reflected in their depths. Her body began to burn with an inner blaze that was hotter than anything the desert could create.

“Yes. We carry tents with us if you wish to use one.”

Jasmine shook her head. “No, I want to see the stars.”

He smiled, as if she’d made him proud. “We will sleep away from the rest of the men.”

Remembering his promise, she blushed. “Won’t that be a problem?”

He raised an aristocratic eyebrow. “No man would let his woman bed down where other men may look upon her sleeping face.”

“That sounds very…”

“Primitive? Possessive? I am all those things where you are concerned, Mina.”

With the wild desert surrounding them and the night sky sparkling overhead, his words sounded exactly right. He was a warrior into whose keeping she had given her life, and she knew that he would always protect her.

“What, no arguments?” he asked, when she remained silent.

“How can I argue with a man who has promised me a massage?”

For once, her controlled husband looked disconcerted. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough. The desire between them was mutual, a living, breathing thing. Unlike the loneliness of her love, when he took her in his arms, they were very much partners.

“I think it is time to retire.” As he spoke, Tariq’s eyes glowed with inner fire, not reflected flames.

They left the others soon afterward, carrying their own bedding. Tariq waved off offers of help, saying that if he couldn’t make a bed in the desert, he wasn’t worthy of being sheik. His men nodded solemnly, pleased with their leader.

He made Jasmine wait while he lay the bedding on top of a thick patch of some springy vegetation that would cushion their bodies from the hard ground. Then he held out his hand. “There is one thing, Mina.”

“What?”

“Tonight, you cannot make a sound. We are too close to the others.” He’d already removed his headgear. Now he took hers off and put it aside, before tangling his hands in the heavy fall of her hair. A rough sigh betrayed his pleasure. “Not a single sound, my Jasmine.”

“Not a single one.” Her promise was softly whispered.

She didn’t make a sound when he stripped her and then himself. She managed to remain silent when he kept his promise to loosen her muscles, his powerful hands tender on her abused flesh. She even bit back her cries when his mouth enclosed her engorged nipples. Then his hand moved between her legs.

Jasmine bit his shoulder. He continued to play with the soft, moist folds between her thighs until she couldn’t breathe. She sank her teeth farther into firm muscle in an effort to control her scream. Finally, after tormenting her for what seemed like hours, he lifted her hips and thrust into her in one smooth stroke. This time, she muffled her cries against his neck. He gritted his teeth against his own cry of satisfaction, his face a study in restraint.

They lay with arms and legs tangled until their skin began to chill from the cool night breeze. Tariq rolled off her and sat up to zip the attached sleeping bags closed. When he propped himself beside her, Jasmine saw what she’d done.

“Oh no.” She was horrified at the deep, red marks.

“What is it, Mina?” His concern was clear.

“I bit you.” She touched the evidence of her crime with her fingertips.

He grinned. “Thank you.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I do not mind. There are two more nights we must spend in the desert. Perhaps you will give me another two souvenirs?”

She remained concerned. “Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?”

“Why don’t you kiss it and see?” he invited.

Jasmine immediately reached over and laved the spot with her tongue and then pressed a tender kiss over it.

“Now I hurt,” he growled against her ear. The hardness pressing impatiently against her thigh explained why. “But we’ll travel far tomorrow. You must have your rest. Turn around and stop tempting me.”

Jasmine laughed at how disgruntled he sounded, but she fell asleep in seconds, despite the embers of desire glowing between them. When she wakened, Tariq was already dressed, which was probably just as well. The look in his eyes said that if she’d wakened a few minutes earlier, he’d certainly have delayed the entire party.

“Good morning, Mina.”

“Morning.” She sat up and rubbed at her eyes.

“I let you rest as long as possible, but we must be away soon if we are to make the next oasis by the time daylight fades.” Tariq’s deep voice was a caress in itself, full of sensuous memories.

Fighting off her blush, she replied, “I’ll be quick. Give me ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes.” A hard kiss sealed those words.

Jasmine watched him stride away into the lush foliage, her body craving his touch. Hurried along by the cool wind, she shook off the desire that lay heavy upon her senses, and rose. The morning air was crisp, almost chilly, with no hint of the fire and heat that would descend as the sun rose higher. As she completed her toilette, Jasmine was struck by the way her husband reflected the hidden glory of his land.

Tariq could be ice, and he could be fire. Since arriving in Zulheil, she’d experienced both. Four years ago, she’d never seen the ice. Had she known only half the man? Four years ago…four years lost. Suddenly, she was starving for knowledge of Tariq’s life in those lost years. The longing was a physical ache inside of her. Tariq had rebuffed her attempts to discuss the past, but she knew that until they did, they’d never truly be at peace.

“Mina! Are you ready?” Tariq’s call cut through her unwelcome thoughts. The warmth in it was an arrow to her heart. Despite her hunger to know, she couldn’t bear to disrupt their new harmony by bringing up the past.

She parted the branches protecting her from his view. “Are we leaving?” Other than a few bent shoots of grass, nothing revealed that they had camped in this desert haven.

“I would not starve you. Not when I am the cause of the hunger you must be feeling.” The rumble of his voice washed over her. She smoothed her pants, inexplicably shy.

Straightening from his leaning position against the trunk of a tree heavy with dark green, glossy foliage, Tariq skated his eyes over her modestly garbed form with a possessiveness she couldn’t mistake. Her breath hitched. When he looked up, she thought she might just beg him to take her.

He crooked a finger.

Some feminine instinct protested that arrogant action, even as the needy part of her wanted to run over and say yes, please. Instead, she stuck one hand on her hip and copied the gesture, with a boldness that, around her husband, felt right.

Tariq’s smile was a slash of white in the duskiness of his face. To her surprise, he obeyed her command and walked over to stand in front of her, so close that her breasts brushed his chest with every breath she took.

“What would you do with me, my wife?”

Now that she had him where she’d wanted him, she couldn’t think of what to say.

Mina’s sudden shyness surprised Tariq. He traced a finger down the cool smoothness of her cheek. She ducked her head, but brought her hand up to cover his. He smiled and bent his knees to bring himself to her level. He surprised her with his sudden descent, and that was the only reason he saw the shadows in her eyes.

He rose to his full height, thunder pouring through his veins. She was hiding something. “What is worrying you?”

She jerked her head up. Hair the color of shattered rubies tumbled over his hands. Blue eyes displayed her distress at being found out. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Her small lie only made him more determined. What was she thinking that she had to hide it from him? Where she was concerned, he’d learned to trust his instincts. Mina called to the part of him that was wild, primitive, untamed, a part that could be dangerous if he didn’t keep it leashed. Complete possession of Mina was the payment demanded by the wildness for four years of imprisonment.

“I am your husband. You will not lie. Answer me.” He thrust his hands through the fiery silk. The last time she’d hidden her thoughts from him, she’d been convincing herself to walk away. It had almost destroyed him. He didn’t think he would survive if she ran from him a second time.

“We’ll be late,” she protested.

Time was no longer important. “They will wait.” His voice was made rough by his knowledge of his vulnerability to her.

“This isn’t the place.” She put her hands on his chest, as if to push him away.

“You will answer me.”

The small hands on his chest curled into fists. “You are so arrogant, sometimes I want to scream!”

The explosion almost made him want to smile. Mina’s temper delighted him. Only the knowledge that she was hiding something from him curbed the urge. His mother had hidden her illness and it had cost him his chance to say goodbye…and maybe more. Mina’s secret could cost him his wife. “I am simply willing to go after what I want.”

“So am I.” Her voice was fierce. “I came to you.”

“And you will stay.” He would not give her a choice. “Is this primitive land starting to lose its charms?”

She rolled her eyes, impertinent in her anger. “No, but you’re driving me crazy with your questions.”

“Answer me and I will ask no more.” His logical response made her grit her teeth. Those magnificent eyes flashed lightning at him.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Now.” He kept her in place with his hands in her hair, clenching thick handfuls of the luminous strands.

She looked away from him. Her body was poised for flight but there was nowhere for her to go. In its blinding starkness, his land was his greatest ally. As he watched, the realization of her weakness dawned on her.

“You’re taking advantage of your strength.” Her hunted expression accused him.

“I will use every advantage I have.” He would not, could not, lose her. She was as vital to him as breathing.

For a second, their eyes met. Silence hung between them, his implacable words almost visible in the air.

“What does it matter what I was thinking?” He knew she was clutching at anything that might offer a reprieve. The hint of victory sharpened his hunter’s instincts.

“You belong to me, Mina.” This time she’d have no secrets from him. Perhaps, he acknowledged, her youth had made her vulnerable to the pressures she’d been put under four years ago. But if he’d known of those pressures, he would have been ready to fight for her and might not have had his heart ripped to pieces.

Her sigh signaled defeat. “I was thinking of the past.”

Some of the chill that had retreated under the fire of their heated conversation returned with a vengeance. “Why do you think of such things?” The past held only pain and betrayal.

“I can’t help it. Not when it stands between us.” Her expression was earnest, her words passionate.

As Jasmine had feared, the mention of the past blighted the incipient joy of the day. Tariq’s smile was only a memory now, this hard-visaged desert warrior the reality. He didn’t deny her statement and the silence grew until it pressed heavily upon her. Wary of the stranger he’d become, she lay her hand on his left bicep. The muscle was inflexible.

“Four years, Tariq.” Her emotions were naked in her voice. “Four years we were apart, and you refuse to share even a crumb of your life during that time.”

His expression grew even darker. “What would you know?”

The question stunned her. She’d been expecting a harsh reprimand or perhaps cold dismissal. For a moment, shock kept her silent, but then words tumbled out of her. “Anything! Everything! Not knowing about those years is like a hole inside me, a part where you’re missing.”

“You made that choice.”

“But now I’ve made another choice!”

The infinitesimal turning away of his face was his only response.

“Please,” she begged.

He released her. Startled, she swayed before regaining her balance. Stepping back, he regarded her with eyes darkened to the color of ancient greenstone. “I was the subject of an assassination attempt by a terrorist organization on my way back from New Zealand.”

“No! Did they…?”

He shook his head in a sharp negative as an answer to the question she couldn’t bring herself to ask. “They had no chance.” When he returned to his position by the tree, her sense of isolation almost overwhelmed Jasmine.

“Are they still active?”

“No, they were supported by their government, which was overthrown two years ago. The new government is friendly and will sponsor no more such attempts.”

She thought that he was trying to soothe her obvious pain. That gave her the courage to continue, even though the ice in his voice was an obvious command to withdraw. She almost expected to see the air fog with her breath.

“But even one!”

That was when he delivered a blow so staggering that he might as well have backhanded her. “They thought me weak and an easy target, because a woman had brought me to my knees.”

Jasmine wanted to scream in agony. To have almost lost him…and to finally comprehend that her mission would be a thousand times more difficult than she’d believed. Maybe even impossible. The night before, she’d begun to understand the depths to which her husband’s honor and pride were intertwined with his private nature. Today, it was painfully clear that Tariq’s pride had been savaged by the reason behind the attempt. His strength as a leader, as a warrior, had been questioned because he’d allowed himself to feel. He would not forgive the woman who had been the cause of the insult.

A call from one of the guides interrupted the heavy silence. Tariq replied without shifting his gaze from her, his eyes dark, impenetrable. The syllables sounded brusque and guttural, as if he, too, were keeping strong emotions in check.

“We must go.”

She nodded, numb from shock. Unable to trust herself not to break down, she followed him to the main area. He put food in her hands, and when she didn’t move to feed herself, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Eat, Mina, or I will put you in my lap and feed you.”

She believed him. As quickly as possible, she forced the food down. She had her pride, too.

Tariq carefully picked up Jasmine and placed her on the camel, once she’d bolted down the meal. He could see her fighting the urge to bring up the food, but he was ruthless in his protectiveness. She would need her strength to survive the desert journey. He would not let her mistreat herself.

When he mounted behind her, he made sure not to jostle her. She’d been silent since his revelation about the assassination attempt. He didn’t like her stillness. His Mina was fire, life, joy. Yet he knew his harshness had caused her withdrawal. He had spoken to his wife in anger, and now that it had passed, he did not know how to bring her back to him.

“Hold on,” he said, as the camel stood up, even though there was no need. His arm was a band around her waist. He would never let her fall, never let her be hurt.

She clutched at his arm, but let go the minute the camel was up. Her white headgear gave her a hiding place and frustrated him. He needed her to talk to him. The discovery made him scowl. A sheik didn’t need anyone. A man would be a fool to need a woman who’d proved incapable of loyalty. He’d merely become used to her presence and voice over the past day. It was nothing more than that.

“Will you sulk all day?” He knew he was being unfair, but was unable to stop himself. He wanted her to fight back, wanted her to feel as much as he did, even if it was only anger.

“I’m not sulking.” Her response held a hint of her customary fire.

Something he didn’t want to acknowledge inside him eased at her response. She hadn’t been beaten or broken. “It’s better that you know the truth.”

“That you’ll never again allow me close to your heart?”

Her blunt question threatened to unsettle him. “Yes. I will not be such an easy target a second time.”

“Target?” It was a husky whisper. “This isn’t war.”

His mouth twisted. “It’s worse.” After her rejection, he’d barely been able to function. He had loved her more than he loved the endless deserts of his homeland, but it had been the desert wilderness that had helped him heal the wounds she’d inflicted.

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

Her words calmed him and made him gentle in his response. “You belong to me now, my Jasmine. There’s no reason for us to fight. This is forever.” He would not trust her with his heart again, but neither would he let her go.

Forever. Jasmine lay her head against Tariq’s chest and swallowed her tears. At one time she would’ve crawled on her hands and knees across broken glass for the promise of forever with Tariq. Now that wasn’t enough. Forever with a Tariq who didn’t love her and would never love her wasn’t enough.

The obstacles in her path had grown to almost insurmountable proportions. Convincing Tariq of her loyalty would not be enough. He might eventually forgive her for not fighting for their love against her family, but she doubted it would be easy. But would he ever forgive the second staggering blow to his warrior’s pride?

And what if she caused a third, with the secret that had broken a child’s heart?

Panic threatened to choke her. No! No one would know about her illegitimacy! No one would shame her husband. Only her family knew, and they valued their position in society too much to let the truth slip out.

You think your prince would marry a girl who can’t even name her father? Keep dreaming, little sister.

Four years ago, Sarah had picked at her most vulnerable spot and then kicked hard. Jasmine still hadn’t recovered from the blow, because she knew her sister was right. How could Tariq accept her, much less love her, if even her adoptive parents hadn’t been able to?

He wouldn’t believe that she’d been so overwhelmed by the marriage ceremony, she’d forgotten the one vital fact that made her the wrong choice to be his wife. As a girl of eighteen, she’d planned to tell him…until Sarah had bluntly thrown the consequences in her face. Believing her sister, Jasmine had kept her hurtful secret, and her family had used it to batter her down when they’d asked her to choose.

“You will speak to me.” The rough order jerked her out of her maudlin thoughts. He liked her speaking to him, did he? Yesterday, he’d teased her that she chattered like a magpie.

Allowing a smile to escape, she let hope fill her heart about her ability to inspire love in this complex man. So the fight would be harder. So what? She’d almost died living apart from him. As long as there was the slightest hope, as long as her panther liked to talk to her, as long as he touched her body like he was starving for her, she’d persevere.

Maybe one day he’d trust her enough, love her enough, to accept all of her. Until then, she’d keep the secret she desperately needed to share, the anguish she needed to fight with his love, deep within her. And she’d make up for that one lie by fighting for other truths, however much it hurt.

“Tell me.” Her tone was quiet but determined.

“What?”

“Tell me exactly what they tried to do.”

“Mina.” Tariq’s annoyance was clear. “I have said that the past is the past. If you do not wish to fight, we will not speak of this.” His hard body moved behind her as he made an adjustment to the reins held negligently in his left hand.

“And I’m supposed to obey your decree without question?” She was unable to let such an arrogant presumption pass.

He was silent for a long moment. “No one challenges the sheik when he has spoken.”

“You’re my husband.”

“Yet you don’t act as a submissive wife should.”

His tone was so neutral that she almost missed the wry undertone. He was teasing her, no longer cold, as he’d been after the revelation in the oasis. Jasmine decided to continue her quest for the truth, despite his implied forgiveness for the pain she’d reawakened that morning. If she let it go now, Tariq would always refuse to discuss the past. An incredibly strong man, he needed a woman who would challenge him when required, not buckle under to his demands.

“If you wanted submission, you should’ve gotten a pet.” She didn’t add that a submissive wife would bore him out of his aristocratic skull within a week.

His arms tightened around her. “No, Mina, I need no pet. Not when I have you to pet.”

The wordplay made her blush. “You speak English just fine when you put your mind to it,” she noted. “But I’m not going to be distracted.”

“No?” Under her breast, his arm suddenly came to life. Muscle flowed and shifted, caressing her without any visible movement.

“No.” Her voice was firm, though desire crackled through her like white lightning.

He slid his hand down to press against her stomach. Then, without warning, he said, “We stopped in Bahrain on our return, for diplomatic reasons. On the way from the airport, my car was separated from the cavalcade by two large trucks.”

“Hiraz?”

“I was not good company at that time.” Tariq’s quiet response drove another nail into the bruised flesh of her heart. “Hiraz was riding in the foremost car with two guards. Another two were in the following car.”

“You were alone.” Instinctively, her hands left the pommel and pressed over his.

“I am never alone, Mina.” His words were as close to a complaint as she’d ever heard. Even a sheik, she understood, needed privacy. A man like Tariq would need it more than most. “My driver is always a trained guard.”

“What happened next?” She was caught in the destructive grip of a past that could have physically stolen Tariq from her. As it was, the emotional damage caused by the attack was profound.

He leaned down and moved her headgear aside so he could whisper into her ear. The intimate gesture made her glad that they were riding at the back of the group.

“We took care of them.” His masculine scent surrounded her, his warmth an experience she didn’t want to escape.

“That’s all you’re going to say?” she protested, disturbed by the way he seemed to be withdrawing once again.

“There isn’t much else. They were religious zealots from a troubled nation who sought to kill me with their bare hands. I disabled three, my driver two.” He nuzzled her neck, a gesture so achingly familiar that tears threatened. The tone of his voice belonged to an exasperated man tired of a topic, rather than one bent on rebuilding an impenetrable wall.

“And the other guards took care of the rest after breaching the barrier of trucks?” she guessed.

Tariq drew back from her and pulled the covering close around her face. “You are too fair,” he grumbled.

“Maybe I’ll tan.” There was always hope.

His response was a disbelieving snort. “Enough of this. We will talk of other things.”

She might’ve argued with him, but he’d already relented a great deal after his initial refusal to speak about his life. Pushing her luck could backfire. “All right.”

“I don’t believe you.” He sounded so male, so put upon.

“Drat.” She fell back into the relationship as it had been before she’d learned the awful truth about how Tariq had been targeted for assassination because of his perceived weakness in loving her. She needed to feel his happiness, to find hope in his laughter.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She thought he was referring to their fight. “This is a beautiful day. It’s a day to be happy.”

His chuckle startled her. “I was asking how your sweet bottom was feeling.”

She blushed and elbowed him. “Behave.” The last traces of frost were long gone. Fire surrounded her. She swallowed tears of bittersweet happiness. There would be no more pain this gorgeous day. She’d pretend that the world was perfect and that the man holding her so carefully, loved her, too.

However, that night, Jasmine couldn’t keep pretending that everything was okay. Not when her heart was threatening to break under the strain. “Would it be okay if I retired early?” she asked Tariq. The firelight, which had seemed so romantic the night before, now made her eyes feel dry and achy.

From his protective position slightly in front of her, Tariq glanced over his shoulder. “You do not wish to remain?” His voice had a dark edge that she couldn’t decipher.

“I’m tired. This is new for me,” she confessed, hiding one truth behind another.

Her husband moved until he was sitting next to her. Then, to her surprise, he pulled her against his seated form. Tariq rarely touched her in public. She hadn’t yet found the courage to ask him whether it was because he didn’t want to, or because of the circumspection demanded of his position.

“I apologize, Mina. You don’t complain, so I forget that this journey must be hard for you.” Deep, sensuous, caressing, his words washed over her like soft, welcoming rain.

She nestled her head against his shoulder, finding that some of her inner ache had disappeared. He held her as if she mattered. “Am I expected to stay because I’m your wife?”

His muscled arm firmed around her as he shifted her a tiny bit nearer, eliminating any hint of space between their bodies. “Your intelligence is one of the reasons you are my wife,” he murmured. “My people judge those not of our land. It’s a flaw in us and yet it’s so much a part of Zulheil that it may be our saving grace. We do not trust easily.” Jasmine had known that the first moment she’d met him.

“Even though they’ve accepted you because you are my chosen wife,” he continued, gazing down at her upturned face, “and you’ll receive obedience, the amount of respect you receive will be determined by a thousand things, among them your ability to endure this harsh land.”

She understood what he would never articulate. His honor was now bound inextricably to hers. It was a fragile link that could shatter as it had once before, and rip even this shaky relationship from her grasp. “I’ll stay. Just hold me?” She winced at the neediness of her voice.

He answered by touching her cheek with his free hand, his dark eyes fierce with what she wanted to believe was pride. Another knot melted inside her. When he looked away, she watched the play of the firelight on his face. He was at once beautiful and dangerous. A panther momentarily at rest. A warrior at home among his people.

Jasmine smiled. Her earlier frustration and pain had faded to a dull ache. Strangely content now, she stared up at the jewel-studded night sky, wondering if within those pinpricks there was a candle to light her way into her husband’s heart.