Lord of the Abyss & Desert Warrior (42 page)

He pulled her to him again, the hand on her nape holding her against his chest. “Forgive me, Mina, because I cannot forgive myself for the hurt I have caused you.”

“I think I could forgive you anything.” Her vulnerability to him no longer terrified her, not when he loved her with all of the passion in his warrior’s heart. “My only regret through everything is that we wasted four years.”

He chuckled. “Not wasted, Mina. I thought I would give you five years to grow up. I was being very patient, was I not?”

She smiled and touched his cheek in a familiar caress. He turned his face into her hand, his stubble rough but enticing against her skin. “You were. And after five years?”

“You would have decided to take a trip to the desert.”

“I would have?”

“Umm.” He leaned down and kissed her, as if he couldn’t resist. She softened, she melted, she became his. When he drew away, the masculine scent of him swirled around her, enclosing her in an embrace more intimate than the physical one. “And once there, you would have married a man who has always known that you were meant to be his.”

“So I could’ve waited another year and saved myself the trouble?” she dared to tease.

“Perhaps I would not have lasted five years. My patience was wearing thin.” His next words were uncompromising. “You were born to be mine, Mina.”

The strength of his vow made her want to weep. Tariq loved her, flaws and all. The hole inside her heart closed forever. She leaned up and kissed him, a soft, loving kiss that held everything she felt.

“Does this mean I am truly forgiven?” he asked.

“Just give me your promise to talk to me if you ever feel angry or hurt, and we’ll wipe the slate clean.”

“I do not intend to let you out of my sight, so that is a moot point.” He laughed when she pushed at his chest and raised her scowling face to his.

“You still don’t trust me?”

“I trust you with my heart and soul,” he told her, his green eyes bright. “I also need you so fiercely that it would please me should you wish to spend your hours by
my side.” He touched his fingers to her throat in a light caress. “You asked me a question once. The answer is yes, as you are Jasmine al eha Sheik, I am Tariq al eha Jasmine. I belong to you.”

The raw honesty of his words humbled her and yet made her heart burst. Tariq was proud and strong, as enduring in his vows as Zulheil Rose was in its beauty. For him to surrender to her in this way meant more than could ever be put into words. Her panther had placed his happiness into her keeping, and she intended to protect that trust with every breath in her body.

“Do your people hate me?” She bit her lip.

“
Our
people are used to the tempestuous women of sheiks.” He grinned. “In the first years of my parents’ marriage, my mother once camped in Paris for two months.”

“Oh.” Though the news about their people made her happy, Jasmine was even more pleased to hear the affection in Tariq’s voice. It appeared that his frustrated anger toward his mother was passing with time.

“It is I who would be considered a poor sheik if I could not persuade you to return.” He leaned close. “My honor is in your hands.” There was a teasing light in his eyes.

“Come, husband who belongs to me.” She tugged his hand. “Your wife wishes to take advantage of you.”

“I would never deny my wife, Mina,” he breathed into her mouth.

The cot did indeed hold their weight.

T
HERE WAS A ROAR FROM THE
crowd below when Jasmine stepped out onto the balcony, her six-month-old baby son cradled in her arms. Behind her, Tariq put a protective arm around her waist and leaned down until his lips touched her temple. “You are loved, my Jasmine.” His smile was tender.

Jasmine stretched up and touched her lips to his. “I know,” she whispered. The roar of the crowd was drowned out by the passionate thunder racing through her veins. “As are you, Tariq al eha Jasmine. From the heart and soul.”

This incredible man was hers, she thought, without limits or restrictions. Or worry. His birthday present to her had been the repeal of the old law that had made her believe his angry threat to take another wife.

“Our son will be a warrior.” Tariq touched one waving fist. “He was conceived in passion.”

“Tariq, hush.” Her cheeks bloomed at the memory of their reunion on that tiny Greek island. Out of their love and hunger, they’d created a tiny, beautiful human being.

“Our people cannot hear us.” He smiled.

That smile made her heart beat faster and her mouth go dry. Every day that they spent together, she fell more in love with her husband. In front of her eyes, he was growing into a powerful, compassionate leader, adored
by his people and respected by both his allies and his foes. But what turned her heart over was the way he loved her. The way he saw greatness in her, too.

“I could not have chosen a better woman to lead by my side. You are magnificent.” His hand stroked the fiery fall of her hair, unconsciously echoing her thoughts.

Jasmine thought back over the past year and a half. “I feel like I’ve grown more since I married you than I did in all the years before.” Tariq’s faith in her had made her dig deep to find the skills he needed in a wife. She’d become adept at behind-the-scenes negotiations, and even better at listening to what people didn’t say.

He touched her cheek and the caress turned the crowd wild. “You have also taught me much. Your gentle ways are turning foes into allies. That’s why I married you, of course.”

His teasing of her hadn’t changed. “I told you, by the time I’m fifty, women will be at those conferences.”

“I have faith that you will accomplish the impossible.” Tariq’s confidence in his wife ran deep and true. Mina could do whatever she put her mind to. Look how well her designing was going. His lovely little wife was becoming famous, not only for her diplomacy but for her artistry.

“You are not working too much?” He looked down at her luminous beauty and could understand why their people openly thanked the stars for her. Just as her husband did.

“How could I?” She turned an exasperated face up at him. “If it’s not you, it’s Mumtaz or Hiraz telling me to rest. Honestly, I could shoot that man at times.”

“My advisors know how important you are to their
sheik’s happiness.” Tariq’s tone was light, but his need for her very real. Without her, he would not be the man he was today. She had taught him about love so strong it humbled him. He could never articulate all that she meant to him, but he could say, “Thank you.” It was a rough whisper.

He looked down at that tiny being cradled in his wife’s arms and thanked him, too—for teaching him about a parent’s love. The minute Jasmine had laid Zaqir in his arms, he’d forgiven his mother for her choice.

“You’re welcome.” Jasmine’s throat closed with withheld tears. She understood what her desert warrior couldn’t say. Tariq no longer hid either his very real love or his need for her. He’d filled the emptiness in her with so much love that sometimes she hurt with the beauty of it.

Moving closer to him until he was supporting their son with an arm under hers, she raised her free hand to the gathered masses. These desert people were her family, her home. Zaqir was a beloved son, the embodiment of the love between her and Tariq. Her husband was her hope and joy.

“We are going in. You are cold.” After one final wave, Tariq rubbed her arms and nudged her inside.

Once there, she raised her face to his. “I think we should dine alone tonight. In our private dining area.”

He raised a brow, his eyes darkening at her husky tone. “Will the little sheik be asleep?”

“Your son is beginning to be very well behaved.” She kissed their baby’s soft cheek. “Unlike his father.”

Tariq laughed. “If I began to behave, Mina, you’d be
most disappointed. Bored.” He pulled her into the circle of his arms, warm and strong.

She let him cuddle her to him, their baby between them. “I don’t think forever with you would bore me.”

“Come then, Jasmine al eha Sheik, let us put this one to bed.” He nuzzled her and then kissed Zaqir, his love for their child open and unashamed. “I wish to adore my wife, little one. You will have to be good tonight.”

Jasmine smiled in sheer joy. Around them, the rare beauty of the Zulheil Rose glowed with an inner warmth, but between her and Tariq, there burned an even more precious incandescence. As she went to lay Zaqir in his crib, Tariq by her side, Jasmine knew that this glory would only grow stronger with time. Like the crystal, it would endure.