Lord of the Abyss & Desert Warrior (39 page)

“Come, I will answer your question in our suite.”

“How did you know I was going to ask you a question?” She let Tariq lead her inside the palace.

“You always get a certain determined look in your eye. It is most disfiguring. You should stop asking questions.”

“You’re a horrible tease, you know that, don’t you?” She was laughing, safe in the knowledge that he liked her curiosity and her desire to learn.

“I have you to tell me.” Tariq tugged her inside their bedroom and closed the door. He pressed her against the door before running his hands over the smooth material of her dress. “Where are the buttons?”

T
ARIQ’S PASSION WAS SO HOT
, Jasmine felt scorched. As a result of the inferno, they didn’t get around to dinner until very late. Jasmine only remembered to ask her question when they were in bed. She turned in Tariq’s embrace and propped herself up on his chest.

“Why would Mezhael sing for me?”

Tariq’s eyes were hooded, his expression that of a sated panther. He ran his finger across the fullness of her lower lip. “The Song of Gifting is unique to Zulheil.” His tone was indulgent as he explained. “As you know, our country follows the old ways. It is what sets us apart from our neighbors.”

“The Song of Gifting.” She mulled that information over, enjoying Tariq’s lazy but affectionate exploration of her face. “So she’s singing it as a gift?”

“No. She will sing it to ask for a gift for you.”

Jasmine kissed his fingers when he stopped at her lips again. He smiled and carried on, trailing his fingertips across her cheek to trace the rim of one ear.

“What gift?”

The glint in his eye was the only warning she had. “A child. There will be many such songs sung across Zulheil in the coming weeks.” Tariq chuckled at her gasp. “My
people have decided that you are the woman to bear the next sheik.”

“They don’t waste time, do they?” She wriggled up his body until her lips were over his.

“You are young, Jasmine, and not yet with child. If you wish, we will wait.”

They’d already lost so much time, Jasmine thought with a pang of old pain. “I may be young but I’ve always known that I would bear your child.”

His expression was suddenly bleak. “Come, Mina. Love me and convince me of that truth.”

She gave him everything she had, but somehow knew that it wasn’t enough. Tariq needed something else from her, something that he’d never ask for and that she couldn’t divine. She fell asleep with a lump in her heart. The fear that had been eating away at her returned in full force, haunting her dreams with premonitions of loss and suffering.

“Y
OU ARE NOT EXCITED ABOUT
this journey, my Jasmine?”

Jasmine turned her face from the airplane window. “Of course I am. Attending Australian Fashion Week will be a wonderful learning experience for me.”

Tariq frowned. “Yet you seem preoccupied.”

She bit her lip, thrown by his perceptiveness. “I guess I am a little. It’s the first time you’ve let me leave Zulheil.”

The hand he’d placed on her own tightened a fraction. “And you will return to Zulheil.” His voice was hard, eliminating her misty dreams of trust.

“Yes.” She would go wherever Tariq resided. “Will you be very busy with the energy conference?”

His face underwent a subtle change at her calm acceptance of his decree. However, the fact that he’d entertained even for a second the belief that she might defect, told her that deeper issues of trust and forgiveness lay buried within his heart. Even her agreeing to have his child had not rebuilt their broken bond.

“I’m sorry you cannot participate.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Zulheil may allow its women full participation, but most of the Arab states at this conference hold different views. Those who agree with Zulheil’s approach are helping me to try and change the others’ thinking, but progress is slow.”

“And to challenge them openly with my presence at this juncture could well destroy everything that you’ve achieved?”

He threw her a quick grin. “Correct. Even though this conference involves the leaders of the Western world as well, including their women, our neighbors are the ones we must be careful of. I cannot afford to take a too-radical stance and alienate the massive powers that surround our borders.”

She nodded, understanding the delicate balance he sought to maintain. “One step at a time. Perhaps by the time I’m fifty, I’ll be able to chair such a conference,” she joked.

Tariq didn’t answer. When she turned her head, she found him staring at her. “What?”

“We will have been married for twenty-eight years by then.”

“Goodness. I didn’t even think of that.”

“Then perhaps you should.”

His enigmatic statement kept her company throughout the journey. They landed at Sydney Airport around 2:00 a.m. Going through customs, Jasmine confused her two passports.

“Sorry. This is the one you need.” She handed over her newly issued Zulheil passport and put the other one away.

Tariq didn’t say anything until they were in the limo on the way to the hotel. “Why did you bring both passports?”

Looking out at Sydney’s lights, Jasmine replied absentmindedly, “The New Zealand one was in the pocket
of my carry-on bag from when I entered Zulheil. I forgot all about it.”

He didn’t say anything further on the topic and came to sit beside her, teasing her for her open delight in the night scenery. She teased right back, but once in their hotel room, exhausted by the long flight, she fell into immediate slumber.

T
ARIQ WOKE JUST BEFORE DAWN
. Mina was asleep, her head resting on his chest. He tangled his fingers in her glorious hair, feeling an urgent need to touch her, to appease the slowly healing creature inside him. He’d made the decision to trust Jasmine’s loyalty on this trip, aware that she was no longer a teenage girl. What he hadn’t counted on was his possessiveness and the frailty of this new accord between them. He’d needed his Mina to himself for a while longer.

He hadn’t meant to snap at her on the plane, and had been immediately sorry that he had done it, seeing the hurt in her expressive eyes. But his generous wife had forgiven him. He would, he vowed, try to control his edgy possessiveness. It was not her fault that they were in this country, which had to remind her of her homeland. And it was not her fault that he was…afraid. Afraid that once again she’d make a choice that would shatter his soul. He hated that feeling.

Yet he couldn’t have left her in Zulheil. It would have broken her tender heart if he’d forced her to remain behind—one more rejection on top of so many others. He touched her cheek and felt something deep inside him sigh in defeat.

Unbeknownst to her, his wife once more held his heart in her hands.

“I
HAVE TICKETS TO MOST OF
the shows.” Jasmine waved the pieces of paper in Tariq’s direction. He stopped in the process of buttoning up his white shirt and stalked over.

“You will be accompanied by Jamar.”

She stood up to finish buttoning his shirt. “He’ll be bored stiff.”

Tariq gripped her wrists, forcing her to meet his vivid green eyes. “I do not do this to clip your wings, Mina. You are the wife of the Sheik of Zulheil. There are those who would hurt you to reach me.” His words were gentle.

She gasped in surprise. “I hadn’t considered that. I guess I’m still not used to being your wife.” She knew she’d said the wrong words the moment they left her mouth.

Tariq’s jaw firmed into a determined line that she knew well, and his grip on her wrists suddenly felt like steel handcuffs. “That will never change, so get used to it.” He dipped his head and took her lips in a profoundly possessive kiss, his body rigid against hers. “You belong to me.”

She thought he was going to leave her with that image of distrust, wounding her. Instead, he turned at the door and walked back to her, his shoulders taut. “Mina.” His eyes were dark and turbulent. The gentle touch of his finger on her cheek was an apology.

Carefully, she reached up and kissed him softly on the lips. “I know I am your wife, Tariq. I
know.
”

He nodded, an expression in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “Take care, wife. I would not lose you.” Then he was gone, leaving her shaken by the power of that statement.

W
HETHER IT TOOK PLACE IN
Sydney or Melbourne, Australian Fashion Week was one of the biggest shows on the
planet, full of every type of style, color and decadence. Jasmine was entranced, though she never forgot Tariq’s words. Did love drive her husband’s possessiveness, or something less beautiful? Her mind continuously went over the words.

However, she didn’t have to worry about Jamar. Her muscled bodyguard enjoyed watching the women on the catwalks, if not the fashions. He was commenting on a curvy brunette when a hand on her shoulder made Jasmine cry out in surprise. Jamar moved so fast she didn’t see him shift. Suddenly, his big bulk blocked her field of vision.

A throaty feminine laugh breached the barrier.

“Jamar, it’s okay.” Shocked, Jasmine pushed around his side when he refused to budge from his protective stance. “She’s my sister.”

“Hello, Jasmine,” Sarah drawled.

“Sarah.” Her sister’s beauty seemed even brighter.

Sarah’s mouth curved into a smile that was without warmth. “So, what’s it like being part of a harem?”

After all these years, Tariq’s revelation had given Jasmine an insight into her sister’s cruelty. “I’m Tariq’s wife.”

Sarah didn’t hide her surprise fast enough. A bitter look tinted her beautiful eyes for a second. “Well, well. Caught the big fish, after all.” She looked over her shoulder. “It’s been lovely but I must rush. Harry’s probably looking for me.”

Sarah turned and disappeared into the dimness beyond the lights of the catwalk before Jasmine could reply. The minute-long meeting left her feeling a confusing mix of emotions.

“She is not like you.” Jamar moved to her side once more, his blunt features set in disapproving lines.

“No. She’s beautiful.”

“And icy. That one is cold.”

Jamar’s words reminded Jasmine of Tariq’s statements. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter, more carefree. Her husband had chosen her. He thought she was good enough just as she was, and that was what mattered.

“H
OW DID THE INITIAL
negotiations go?” Jasmine asked Tariq over dinner. She’d decided to eat in their suite, aware that he’d be craving some peace and quiet.

He ran his hand through his damp hair, having just showered. Under the terry-cloth robe that he’d thrown on to placate her sense of modesty, his tanned skin glowed with health. “It is as I expected. Those with oil wish to keep their position of power and are unwilling to look at alternatives.”

“Isn’t that short-sighted? Oil will eventually run out.”

His eyes gleamed with intelligence. “Exactly. And it is not only money but our world that we must consider.”

Jasmine reached across the table and touched his hand. “As an ex-New Zealander, I’d have to agree with you. Kiwis are very big on clean and green.”

“Are you?” He trapped her hand beneath his.

“Am I what?”

“Are you an ex-New Zealander?”

She paused. “Aren’t I? I thought after marrying you, I gained Zulheil citizenship?”

He nodded once. “Zulheil allows dual citizenship.”

“I didn’t know that.” She smiled. “My heart belongs to you and your land, Tariq. It’s home.”

He began to rub his thumb in tiny circles across her wrist. “You have no wish to return to your family?”

She knew her smile was a little sad. Even though they’d hurt her so much, they were her family. A lifetime couldn’t be easily dismissed. “I saw Sarah today.”

“Your sister is well?” His question was innocuous, but his eyes were alert.

She shrugged. “You know Sarah.”

He didn’t say anything, simply watched her face with eyes that seemed to see through to her soul. When he stood and came around the table, she was ready for him. That night, his lovemaking was tender and careful, as if he was trying to soothe her hurt. She forgot Sarah’s barbs with his first touch, her heart overflowing with love for her desert warrior.

Her grip on her husband’s strong body was fierce, her loving equally tender, his comments at dinner having given her an insight into his mind. Her husband had been afraid that she’d be tempted by the proximity of her country of birth. He didn’t know that Zulheil was the only place that she truly thought of as home, and only because it was his land.

J
ASMINE SPENT MOST OF THE
next day shopping for gifts. Jamar tagged along like a good-natured, if extremely large, puppy, even offering suggestions on prospective purchases.

“Your sister is approaching us,” he stated suddenly.

Jasmine looked up in surprise. Sure enough, Sarah was making her way through the small boutique in Darling Harbour.

“How about lunch, little sister?” For once, there was
no sarcasm or bitterness in her words, and Jasmine couldn’t resist the invitation. Old habits were hard to break and this hint of an olive branch from an always-unapproachable sister was too good to pass up.

Before they reached the car, Sarah asked her if they could stop in at a travel agency. “Have to pick up some tickets.” She smiled and wiggled her fingers at Jamar.

The bodyguard, who’d been hanging back, moved closer.

Jasmine smiled at him. “We’re just going to stop by a travel agent’s office. Can you tell the driver?”

Jamar frowned but did as she asked, taking the front passenger seat, while Jasmine sat in the back with Sarah. As the vehicle was a courtesy provided by the Australian government, there was no glass partition between the two compartments. Mindful of that, Jasmine kept her voice down as she chatted with Sarah, catching up. When she admitted to missing her family, Sarah said, rather loudly, “So, when do you want to leave for New Zealand? I’ll book your ticket right now.”

Jasmine responded in a quieter tone. “I’ll see if Tariq has some free time after the conference.” She wondered if she could convince her husband to return to the place where they’d hurt each other so much.

To her surprise, lunch was pleasant. Starved for news about her family, she drank in every one of Sarah’s words. “Thank you,” she said, after paying the bill for both their meals. “I needed to know about everyone.”

Sarah smiled slowly. “Perhaps we’ll see each other again. We’re both adults now.”

Jasmine nodded. She was no longer the naive girl she’d once been, and it seemed her sister respected that.
And maybe after marrying Boston blue-blood Harrison Bentley, Sarah had matured and forgotten her spiteful anger toward Tariq.

Jasmine had no premonition of the sheer wrongness of her belief until late that night.

S
HE WAS IN THE SHOWER
when Tariq returned sometime after eight. When she walked out into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, she found him waiting for her, eyes glittering with what she immediately recognized as unadulterated rage.

“Tariq? What is it?” She froze, suddenly afraid.

He remained on the other side of the room, his big body held tightly in check. “Did you have fun laughing at me, Jasmine?” His quiet voice vibrated with anger.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Such innocence! And to think I’d believed you’d changed.”

He raked her body with eyes that were so angry, she didn’t want him anywhere near her. At the same time, it hurt that he stayed as far as physically possible from her.

“Unfortunately, your sister gave away your plans.”

Her head jerked up. “What plans?”

“Your sister commiserated with me over your desertion. She said I had to understand that you could not bring yourself to marry a man like me.”

Shocked, Jasmine just stared. When he ripped something out of his pocket and threw it against her chest, she didn’t move to get it.

“You did not tell her I was your husband! What were you planning to do after you left? File for divorce, or
just ignore your Zulheil marriage?” The sharp pain in his voice cut her.

Sarah had done this, Jasmine thought dully. But she wouldn’t win. Her lie was too enormous, too unbelievable. Surely Tariq would see the truth. He
knew
Sarah. “I’m not planning on leaving you. She lied.”

He looked even more furious. “Do not make this worse with further lies. The plane ticket in your name that Sarah wished me to give you does not lie.”

With shaking hands, Jasmine picked up the ticket, barely able to keep the towel around her. The ticket was in her name, and even worse, her passport details were listed. That was odd, but only seemed to damn her further in her husband’s eyes.