Desert Rogues Part 2 (23 page)

“I was sick for a while,” she said, telling herself it wasn't exactly a lie. There'd been a sickness of spirit.

“I came by several times, in fact.”

Had he? Was it possible her parents had kept the information from her?

She thought they might not have wanted to tell her that Reyhan had been by to see her, but they never would have kept information about that kind of money from her. They loved her. They were devoted to her.

“I don't believe you,” she said. “Not about the money. If I don't know about it, who withdrew funds? Not my parents. They would never do that. This doesn't make sense. You disappeared from my life for six years, only to drag me over here and tell me you want a divorce. Why should I believe anything you say?”

“Because I do not lie.”

She glanced at the king, but he seemed more amused than upset by the argument. Which was fine. She was upset enough for two people. She turned back to Reyhan. “Liar or not, you've insulted my parents and for no good reason. I don't know what this game is, but I'm done playing it.”

She stood and walked out of the room.

After fifty feet down the hall she had the unsettling thought that it was probably considered a very bad thing to walk out on the king of Bahania. She paused, not sure if she should go back and apologize, or keep going. Before she could decide, she heard footsteps, then Reyhan rounded the corner and stopped in front of her.

He was obviously furious—tight-lipped and hard-eyed. Without speaking, he took her by the arm and led her away. She didn't recognize the twists and turns they took, even when they ended up in front of her suite. Reyhan opened the door and hustled her inside.

When he released her, she had the strangest urge not to move away. For a split second she thought about throwing herself into his arms and begging him to hold her. As if his embrace would make things right.

Not in this universe, she thought, taking a step back and bracing herself for whatever he had to say.

His gaze narrowed. “Why do you question what I tell you?”

“Why shouldn't I?”

“Because there is proof of everything. For weeks I kept vigil outside of your parents' home. I called or came by every day. I returned to claim you as my wife only to be told you refused to see me. I left when I received your letter.”

Emma didn't understand any of this. “What letter?”

“The one you wrote telling me you regretted meeting me and everything about our marriage and that you only wanted me to disappear.”

He spoke stiffly, as if the words were difficult to say.

“That's crazy,” she told him. “I never wrote that.”

She hadn't thought it, either. Not at the time. She'd longed to see Reyhan, but he'd abandoned her.

“You used me,” she continued. “I don't know why, but you got it in your head you wanted to sleep with me, so you pretended to care about me.” She couldn't say the word
love,
not even now. “You took advantage of me for a long weekend, then took off. No explanation, nothing.”

It took a lot to get her angry, but once she was on a roll, she liked to keep going. She remembered the pain and humiliation of being tossed aside like a broken toy.

“You promised me things,” she said, her voice rising. “You talked about our life together and I believed you. I trusted you and you just took what you wanted and walked away.”

“I left because a beloved aunt died.”

“Did the funeral take six weeks to prepare? Did you ever once call me? Did you think to tell me what was going on?”

He frowned. “Of course. I phoned nearly every day.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, right. And I just happened to be out.”

“That is what I was told.”

She turned her back on him and walked to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. None of this mattered, she told herself, trying to cool her temper. Soon it would be behind her. She had to remember the big picture.

Reyhan spoke into the silence. “If you think so little of men, you must be pleased to be rid of me. Just a few more days and the marriage will be over. As if it had never existed.”

Fury surged. “Right. Because you can dismiss what happened. Because it didn't matter.” She spun back to face it. “It mattered to me. Do you have any idea how innocent I was? I'd barely kissed one boy in high school. And then there was you. You didn't just seduce me, Reyhan, you took what you wanted, without regard for my feelings. I'll never forgive that.”

His expression turned menacing. “You were more than willing.”

“I was terrified. Now I'd know better. Now I'd tell you no.”

“Are you saying I had you against your will?”

He hadn't, not exactly, but she was mad. “Yes.”

“You were a child, only interested in chaste kisses and expensive presents. A child who couldn't please a man.”

That hurt. She tried not to remember how embarrassed she'd been, how awkward and unsure.

“You were a man who couldn't be bothered with seducing his bride. Instead you just took.”

They were both enraged, breathing hard and glaring at each other. A part of her was terrified, but she refused to back down. Not even when he moved closer still. Not even when he reached behind her and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up against him.

“If that is who I am,” he said with frighteningly soft menace, “a liar and a defiler of women, then there is no point in holding back now.”

He kissed her. Not the soft kiss of seduction or coaxing, but a kiss of power. He was a man with something to prove. His firm lips pressed hard against her own, claiming her with passion.

She wanted to protest, to scream, to pull back, but she could not. They touched everywhere. Her body pressed against his, their legs tangled. She put up her hands to push him away, but when her palms brushed against the hard planes of his suit-covered chest, she found herself unable to protest…or even breathe.

Fire consumed her. Hot and hungry, it swept through her, melting her resolve, her reason. Against her will, she found herself moving her hands from his chest to his shoulders. She clung to him because letting go would mean collapsing at his feet. Worse, she kissed him back.

She couldn't explain it, and given the choice, she would probably deny it, but there it was. A need that grew. Wanting was alive inside of her. In that moment, with his mouth against hers and his hands moving from the back of her head to her shoulders, then to her hips, she couldn't get close enough.

Emma wanted to surrender, to crawl inside of him. When his kiss gentled and he stroked her lower lip with his tongue, she parted for him and anticipated his more intimate kiss.

At the first stroke of his tongue against her own it was all she could do not to scream. At the second, she ceased to have a will of her own. And with the third, she clamped her lips around him, greedily holding him in place, wanting him to kiss her forever.

She ached. Her breasts, between her legs, all over. Her skin felt hot and too tight. She wanted to strip her dress off and have him touch her everywhere. She wanted to be naked, vulnerable, offering herself to him.

She rubbed one hand against the back of his neck. He held on to her hips and then dropped his hands to her rear where he squeezed the curves. She surged against him, wanting to rub like a lonely cat. But before she could put her plan into action he broke the kiss and stepped away.

They stared at each other. Loud breathing filled the silence. Emma was pleased to note that Reyhan looked as swept away by passion as she felt.

Perhaps they should call a truce, she thought. Start over as friends. Friends who could bring about the end of the world with just a kiss.

“You have learned much in my absence,” Reyhan said, his cold voice contrasting with the fire in his eyes. “Before you accuse me of more sins, you should look at yourself. A wife who takes lovers. Isn't there a name for that?”

Her mouth dropped open, but before she could snap back at him, he was gone.

Emma glared at the shut door and yelped in anger and frustration.

“That is not fair!” she yelled into the empty room. “I didn't know we were married and you know it.”

Besides, there hadn't been any other men. Not seriously. And she'd never allowed any of them into her bed. If she kissed better now, it was because she was older, and because kissing Reyhan had made her feel things she'd never felt before. Not even
with
him.

Emma slowed her breathing and tried to calm down. She was shaking and not just because she was mad. She was shaking in reaction to what had happened when Reyhan had kissed her. She'd wanted him. Funny how she'd started to worry that there was something wrong with her because none of the guys she went out with had made her want to get naked and do the wild thing. Just her luck that the first one to push all her buttons was an arrogant prince who just happened to be a man trying to get her out of his life as quickly as possible.

“I don't think I can handle any more,” she said quietly as she stepped out onto the balcony. “By the time I get home, I'm going to need a serious vacation.”

She crossed to the railing and glanced down into the beautiful gardens. The peaceful setting began to ease her tension and she felt herself relaxing. After a time, she heard voices and searched until she found a couple walking into the gardens.

Even from two stories above, she recognized Cleo. The tall, handsome man at her side must be her husband. Emma couldn't make out the words, but she heard the affection in their voices. Sadik turned to his wife and held out his arms. Cleo willingly stepped into his embrace and they kissed.

Not wanting to intrude on an obviously private moment, Emma stepped back and returned to her suite. Alone in the silence, she paced the length of the living room as she tried to figure out what happened next.

Should she say anything to Reyhan? To the king? Could she just leave?

The musical chimes of a grandfather clock caught her attention. She stared at the face and calculated the time difference with Texas, then crossed to the telephone and pressed zero, hoping to get an operator. Less than a minute later, she heard her mother's voice on the phone.

“Emma! How lovely to hear from you. Where are you, darling? George, it's Emma. Pick up the other phone.”

Emma waited until she heard her father's familiar “Hello, kitten,” before sighing in relief. The tension fled her body and for the first time in three days she knew everything was going to be all right.

“Are you enjoying your vacation?” her mother asked. “I've heard spring in San Francisco is very beautiful. Are you getting a lot of fog?”

Emma winced as she remembered the lie she'd told her parents. Alex from the State Department had made the suggestion and she'd gone along. Now she wondered if the original idea had been Reyhan's.

“I'm not in San Francisco,” she told them.

“What?” Her father's voice turned worried. “Was there a problem with the plane? Do you need us to come and get you?”

“No. I'm fine. I'm in Bahania.”

“The Bahamas?” her mother asked.

“No. Bahania. It's next to El Bahar. In the Middle East. I'm here because of Reyhan.”

Her mother gasped. “I knew that horrible man wouldn't stay gone. Oh, George, he kidnapped her. We have to call the police. They'll know what to do.”

“Now, Janice. Don't jump to conclusions. Kitten, are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

“No, Daddy. Reyhan has been very polite.” She had no intention of mentioning the kiss they'd just shared. “Why did you say you didn't think he wouldn't stay away, Mom? You told me he never bothered to come see me.”

There was a long silence. Finally her father spoke. “He might have stopped by a time or two.”

Deep in her heart Emma wasn't surprised. Her parents loved her and wanted to protect her from everything. That would include what they saw as a dangerous man intent on using their daughter. The problem with them admitting guilt in one area was that now she had to doubt them about everything, involving her pseudomarriage and the time following it.

“Just come home,” her mother pleaded. “Emma, you don't belong there with those people. We'll come get you if you like. Wouldn't that be nice? Then we could all go to Galveston together. I'll bet that nice house we used to rent is available. It's not too close to summer. I could call and check and we could—”

“Mom, no. I'm not coming home just yet and I don't want you to come get me. I'm fine. I'm just…” How to explain what she was doing?

“That man is going to bewitch you,” her mother said. “Just like he did before. It's not right. He should be in jail.”

“For what?” Emma asked. “He married me and provided for me.” Sadness overwhelmed her. Sadness for what had happened and what she'd believed. Sadness that her parents couldn't have believed in her enough to tell the truth.