Diamond in the Desert (16 page)

‘You would have to come back to Kareshi, of course,’ he said, frowning.

‘Of course,’ she said thoughtfully.

‘Once the changes have been implemented in Skavanga and everything has settled down here, I want you to tour our universities and colleges with me—art galleries, concert halls and museums. I want to share everything with you, Britt.’

‘For the sake of the exchange scheme,’ she clarified, still lacking something on the confidence front.

‘Absolutely,’ Sharif agreed. ‘We have some fascinating exhibits in the museums. You might even recognise some of them.’

‘But you don’t expect me to explain those to students, I hope?’

‘I don’t think they need any explanation, do you?’

She stared into Sharif’s laughing eyes, remembering everything in the fabulous pavilion where she had lost her heart. It had never occurred to her that Sharif might have lost his too.

Or was she just kidding herself again?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

H
E
STOOD
BACK
to watch Britt, wanting to remember every single detail as she met and mingled with the students for the first time. He wished then that he had been less preoccupied and more open from the start, so he could have showered her with gifts and told her how he felt about her. But he had been like Britt—all duty, with every hour of every day filled. They had both changed. He had maybe changed most of all when he had discovered that a month away from Britt was like a lifetime. He’d realised then how much she meant to him and had concluded that it must never happen again.

He wondered now if he’d ever seen her truly relaxed before. Britt Skavanga unmasked and laughing was a wonderful creation. She genuinely loved people and would be wasted behind a desk in an office.

They ate together with a crowd of students who swarmed around Britt. He was almost jealous. Their table was the noisiest, but she still got up and went around every table in the refectory, introducing herself and explaining the scheme she was already cooking in her head. It was as if there had never been a misunderstanding between them, he thought as she glanced over to him and smiled as if wanting to reassure him that she was enjoying this. One of the students commented that Britt came from a cold country, but she had a warm heart.

Cheesy, but she’d warmed his heart. How long had he been in love with her? From that first crazy day, maybe? He just hadn’t seen it for what it was. But one of the nice things about being a sheikh was that he could pretty much follow his instinct, and his instinct said, don’t let this woman go. He had everything in a material sense a man could want, but nothing resonated without Britt. He saw things differently through her eyes. She made every experience richer. He wanted her in his life permanently and that meant not half a world away. He wanted them to do more than plan an exchange scheme or run a company. He was thinking on a much wider scale—a scale that would encompass both their countries. A life together was what he wanted. He knew that now, and that could only benefit the people who depended on them, and for the first time he thought he saw a way to do it.

‘Are you ready to go?’ he whispered to Britt discreetly.

‘Not really,’ she admitted with her usual honesty, gazing round at all the people she hadn’t had chance to meet yet.

‘You can come back,’ he promised. ‘Remember—I’ve asked you to run this project, so you’re going to be seeing a lot of these people.’

‘But—’

As he held her stare she saw with sudden clarity exactly what he was thinking. Her own eyes widened as his gaze dropped to her mouth.

They were never going to make it back to the citadel. He lost the outriders a few streets away from the university and the security van went off radar in a maze of side-turnings in the suburbs. Britt yelled to ask him what he was he doing when he pulled into a disused parking lot earmarked for development.

‘What do you think?’ he yelled back, skidding to a halt.

The scaffolding was up and a few walls were built, but that was it. More importantly, no one was working on the site today. Dismounting, he propped the bike on its stand and lifted Britt out of the saddle.

‘Is this safe?’ she demanded when he backed her against a wall.

‘I thought you loved a bit of danger?’

‘I do,’ she said, already whimpering as he kissed her neck.

He couldn’t wait. Neither could she. Pelvis to pelvis with pressure, waiting was impossible. Fingers flying, they ripped at each other’s clothes. Blissful relief as Britt’s legs locked around his waist and her small strong hands gripped his shoulders. Anything else was unimportant now. They were together. She was ready for him—more than. Penetration was fast and complete. There was a second’s pause when they both closed their eyes to savour the moment, but from then on it was all sensation. He cupped her buttocks in his hands to prevent them scraping on the gritty wall, as he kissed her. He groaned and thrust deep, dipping his knees to gain a better angle. Britt was wild, just as he liked her. He wanted to shout out—let the world know how he felt about this woman— How he’d felt without her, which was empty, lost, useless— And how he felt now—exultant. Nothing could ever express his frustration at how long it had taken him to realise that if they wanted each other enough, they would find a way to be together. And that it had to happen here in a parking lot—

‘Sharif?’ she said.

She was giving him a worried look he’d seen before; he knew she couldn’t hold on. ‘Britt...’

He smiled against her mouth, loving the tension that always gripped her before release. And now it was a crazy ride, hands clawing, chests heaving, wild cries, until, finally, blessed release. The best. It wasn’t just physical. This was heart and soul. Commitment. He was committed to this woman to the point where even the direction his future took would depend on what she said now.

‘Marry me,’ he said fiercely. ‘Marry me and stay with me in Kareshi.’

‘Yes,’ she murmured groggily in a state of contentment, resting heavily against him. ‘
What?
’ she yelped, coming down to earth with a bump.

‘Stay with me and be my queen.’

‘You
are
joking?’

‘No,’ he said, brushing her hair back from her face. ‘I can assure you I’m not joking.’

‘You’re a king, proposing marriage in a car lot when you’ve just had me up against the wall?’

‘I’m a man asking a woman to marry me.’

‘Aren’t you being a little hasty?’

‘Crazy things happen in car lots and this has been at the back of my mind for quite some time.’

‘Only at the back,’ she teased him as he helped her to sort out her clothes. And then she frowned. ‘Are you really sure about this?’

‘I’m not in the habit of making marriage proposals in car lots, or anywhere else, so, yes, I’m sure. But you’re right—’ Going down on one knee in the dirt, he asked the question again.

‘You
are
sure,’ she exclaimed. ‘But how on earth will we make this work?’

‘You and me can’t solve this? Are you serious?’

‘But—’

‘But nothing,’ he said. ‘You can travel as I do. You can use the Internet. I don’t have any trouble staying in touch.’

‘And you run a country,’ she mused.

‘I’m only asking you to run my life.’ He shrugged. ‘How hard can that be?’

She gave him a crooked smile. ‘I’d say that could be quite a challenge.’

‘A challenge I hope you want to take on?’ he said, holding her in front of him.

‘Yes.’

‘I’d be surprised if you’d said anything else,’ he admitted, returning the grin as he brushed a kiss against her mouth.

‘You arrogant—’

‘Sheikhs are supposed to be arrogant,’ he said, kissing her again. ‘I’m only fulfilling my job description.’

‘So I’d be staying here in Kareshi with you?’

‘Living with me,’ he corrected her. ‘And running a very important project—with me, not for me. You’ll be working for both our countries, alongside me. We’ll be raising a family together, and you’ll be my wife. But none of this will take place
here
, exactly. I did have somewhere a little better than a parking lot in mind.’

‘What about the harem?’

‘I’ll tell them to go home.’

‘I meant the tent.’

‘We’ll keep it for weekends. So? What’s your answer, Britt?’

‘I told you already. Yes. I accept your terms.’

‘How about my love?’

‘I accept that too—and most willingly,’ she teased him, her eyes full of everything he wanted to see. ‘I love you,’ she shouted, making a flock of heavy-winged birds flap heavily up and away from the scaffolding. ‘And I don’t care who knows it.’

‘And I love you too,’ he said, and, drawing her into his arms, he kissed her again. ‘I love you more than life itself, Britt Skavanga. Stay with me and help me build Kareshi into somewhere we can both be proud of. And I promise you that from now on there will be no secrets between us.’

But then she frowned again and asked the question he knew was coming.

‘How can I ever leave Skavanga?’

‘I’m not asking you to leave Skavanga. I’m asking you to be my wife, which will give you more freedom than you’ve ever dreamed of. You can work alongside me and raise a family. You can be a queen and a director of a company. You can head up charities and run my exchange programmes for me. You can recruit the brightest and the best of the students you’ve just met. I’m asking you to be my wife, the mother of my children, and my lover. The only restrictions will be those you impose on yourself, or that love imposes on you. You’ll find a balance. I know it. And if you want more time—you’ve got it.’

They linked fingers as they walked back to Sharif’s bike. They were close in every way. Her hand felt good in his. She felt good with this man. She felt safe. She felt warm inside. She felt complete.

EPILOGUE

‘T
HERE
'
S
JUST
ONE
thing missing,' Britt commented wistfully as her sister helped her to dress on her wedding day in her beautiful apartment at the citadel in Kareshi.

‘Tyr,' Leila guessed as she lifted the cloud of cobweb-fine silk chiffon that would be attached to the sparkling diadem that would crown Britt's flowing golden hair.

‘Have you heard anything? Has Sharif said anything to you about Tyr?' Eva demanded, her sharp tone mellowed somewhat by the hairpins she was holding in her mouth. ‘After all, Tyr is a major player in the consortium now.'

‘Nothing,' Britt admitted, turning to check her back view in the mirror. ‘Sharif shares everything with me, but he won't share that. He says Tyr will return in his own good time, and that Tyr will explain his absence then, and that we must never think the worst of him, because Tyr is doing some wonderful work—'

‘Righting wrongs everywhere but here,' Eva remarked.

‘You know he's already done that—fighting with Sharif to free Kareshi. And I trust Sharif,' Britt said firmly. ‘If he says Tyr will explain himself when he feels the time is right, then he will. And if Sharif has given his word to Tyr that he won't say anything, then he won't—not even to me.'

‘So, I suppose we have to be satisfied with that,' Eva commented, standing back to admire her handiwork. ‘And I must say those diamonds are fabulous.'

‘I'm glad they distracted you,' Britt teased.

‘Well, they would, wouldn't they?' Eva conceded. ‘And this veil...'

‘Eva, I do believe you're looking wistful,' Britt remarked with amusement as her sister reached for Britt's dress. ‘Are you picturing yourself on your own wedding day?'

Eva sniffed. ‘Don't be so ridiculous. There isn't a man alive I could be interested in.' Eva chose not to notice the look her sisters exchanged. ‘Now, let's get this dress on you,' she said. ‘The way Sharif runs you ragged with all those projects he's got you involved in, it will probably drop straight off you again.'

As Leila sighed even Eva was forced to give a pleased and surprised hum. ‘Well... Who knew you could look so girlie?' she said with approval, standing back.

‘Only a sister,' Britt muttered, throwing Eva a teasing fierce look while Leila tut-tutted at their exchange.

‘Eva!' Leila complained where her two sisters settled down for a verbal sparring match. ‘You can't get into a fight with Britt on her wedding day.'

‘More's the pity,' Eva muttered, advancing with the veil.

‘The dress fits like a dream,' Leila reassured Britt.

‘Stand still, will you?' Eva ordered Britt. ‘How am I supposed to fix this tiara to your head?'

‘With a hammer and nails, in your present mood?' Britt suggested, exchanging a grin with Leila.

But Eva was right in one thing—the past six months had been hectic. She had overseen so many exciting new schemes, as well as flying back to Skavanga to manage the ongoing work there. And as if that wasn't enough, she had insisted on having a hand in the organisation of her wedding at the citadel. Some people never knew when to relax the reins, Sharif had told her, with the type of smile that could distract her for quite a while. She wouldn't have it any other way, Britt reflected. Life had never been so rich, and when the baby came...

Tracing the outline of her stomach beneath the fairytale gown, she knew she would keep on working until Sharif tied her to the bed. Actually—

‘Man alert,' Leila warned before Britt had chance to progress this delicious thought.

‘Don't worry, I won't let him in,' Leila assured her.

‘Stand back, I'll handle this,' Eva instructed her younger sister. Marching to the door, her red hair flying, Eva swung it open. ‘Yes?'

There was silence for a moment and Britt turned to see who could possibly silence her combative middle sister.

‘Ladies, please excuse me, but the bridegroom has asked me to deliver this gift to his beautiful bride.'

The voice was rich, dark chocolate, and even Britt could see that the man himself was just as tempting. Eva was still staring at him transfixed as Leila stepped forward to take the ruby red velvet box he was holding out.

‘Thank you very much,' Britt said politely, taking another look at the man and then at Eva. Which one would blink first? she wondered.

‘It is my pleasure,' he said, switching his attention back to Britt. ‘Count Roman Quisvada at your service...'

He bowed? He bowed. ‘And this is my sister, Leila,' she said, remembering her manners. ‘And Eva...' Who, of course, had to tip her stubborn little chin and glance meaningfully from the count to the door.

‘I can see you're very busy,' the handsome Italian said, taking the hint, his dark eyes flashing with amusement. ‘I hope to spend more time with you later.'

‘Was he looking at me when he said that?' Eva demanded huffily, her cheeks an attractive shade of pink, Britt thought, as Eva closed the door behind the count with a flourish.

‘There's no need to sound so peeved,' Leila pointed out. ‘He's hot. And he's polite.'

‘I do like a man who's polite in the bedroom,' Britt commented tongue in cheek.

‘Wow, wow, wow,' Leila whispered as Britt opened the lid of the velvet box. ‘And there's a note,' she added as the three Skavanga sisters stared awestruck at the blue-white diamond heart hanging from a finely worked platinum chain; the diamond flashing fire in all the colours of the rainbow.

Britt read the note while her sisters read over her shoulder:
I hope you enjoy wearing the first polished diamond to come from the Skavanga mine. It's as flawless as you are. Sharif.

‘Cheese-ee,' Eva commented. ‘And he doesn't know you very well.'

Britt shook her head as the three sisters laughed.

When she walked down the red-carpeted steps towards him, the congregation in the grand ceremonial hall faded away, and there was only Britt— Beautiful Britt. His bride. But she was so much more than that and they were so much more together than they were apart.

‘You look beautiful,' he murmured as her flame-haired sister and the young one, Leila, peeled away.

Now there were just the two of them he didn't dare to look at her or he'd carry her away and to hell with everyone. It took all he'd got to repeat the vows patiently and clearly when all the time his arms ached to hold her. Britt's darkening eyes said she felt the same, and as she held his gaze to tease him she knew how that would test him.

His control was definitely being severely tested, but that was one of the things he loved about Britt. She challenged him on every front and always had.

And long may it continue, he thought, teasing her back by staring fixedly ahead.

Sharif in heavy black silk robes perfumed with Sandalwood and edged with gold was a heady sight.

And he was her husband...

Her husband, Britt reflected, feeling a volcanic excitement rising inside her. Could she contain her lust? Sharif was refusing to look at her and it was only when they were declared man and wife that he finally turned.

Now she knew why he'd refused to look at her. The fire in his eyes was enough to melt her bones. How was she going to stand this? How was she going to sit through the wedding breakfast?

The food was delicious, but even that wasn't enough of a distraction. The setting was unparalleled, but nothing could take her mind off the main event. Candles flickered in golden sconces, casting a mellow glow over the jewel-coloured hangings, making golden plates and goblets flash as if they were on fire, while crystal glasses twinkled like fireflies dancing through the night. It was a voluptuous feast, prepared by world-renowned chefs, but she wondered if it would ever end, and was surprised when Sharif stood up.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,' he began in the deep husky voice Sharif could use to seduce to command. ‘The evening is young, and I urge you to enjoy everything to the full. Thank you all for coming to help us celebrate this happiest of days, but now I must beg you to excuse us—'

She still didn't quite understand until Sharif whistled up his horse and held out his hand to her. His black stallion galloped into the hall. As
coup de théâtre
went, she had to admit this one was unparalleled. As their guests gasped the stallion skidded to a halt within inches of its master, and the next thing she knew Sharif was lifting her onto the saddle and holding her safely in front of him.

She gasped as the stallion reared, his silken mane flowing like liquid black diamonds, as his flashing ebony hooves clawed imperiously at the air.

The instant he touched down again, Sharif gave a command in the harsh tongue of Kareshi, and the horse took them galloping out of the hall into a starlit night, and a future that was sure to fulfil all their desires.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
Beholden to the Throne
by Carol Marinelli