by Diana Fraser
He stepped closer again, his palms pressed against the crumbling adobe walls, either side of her shoulders. She was trapped. His angry, intelligent eyes were changed by lust. She at least could recognize now when a man was aroused.
“You,” he said, his full lips forming the shape of a kiss.
She slammed her hand against his chest as he tried to take that kiss from her. “Stop right there! What can you possibly hope to gain by attacking me, your queen?”
He frowned, as if hurt. “Attacking? I’m not attacking you.” Then the frown vanished, replaced by a leer. “I’m about to make love to you.”
Even while inside she reeled in terror, her mind worked overtime. Think. Think. “And then what? Have you stopped to consider what I will do when we return? Do you really expect to get away with this?” She stopped suddenly, realizing that he couldn’t possibly expect to get away with it, in which case he must believe that she’d never return to her country, never see anyone—never see Xander again. She bit her lip trying to stop them trembling as terror filled her.
“Of course. Because you will be carrying my child—heir to Tawazun. My heir. You would be too shamed to admit what had happened to you. No, we will marry and I will take my rightful place by your side.” He gripped her shoulder. “I know you are scared because you are pure, but you will soon get used to it.”
“I am not scared, because this will not happen!” Tears streamed down her face, betraying her fear.
“Yes, it will.” Without waiting for her to reply, he pressed his lips against hers and lifted her robes.
She screamed and pulled away. “Stop this madness immediately, Abzari!”
“It is not madness! You will be mine! I will be the first and only one to have you.”
“No! You won’t be!”
He gripped her chin, but at least pulled away from the kiss. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that the King of Sharq Havilah and myself have decided to marry.”
“No.”
The one single word hung between them.
“You are pure,” he continued. “No one can appreciate you as I do.”
“I am pure no longer.”
“What do you mean?”
She took a deep breath to tell the lie. “I mean that Xander and I have made love.”
“No. That’s wrong. I do not believe you would dishonor me like that.”
She suddenly realized he was completely crazy. Somewhere in the depths of his twisted mind, he’d always believed they would be together.
She shook her head in disbelief.
“No,” he repeated. “You are still pure. You are merely saying that to try put me off you.” He pushed his fingers through her hair and his fingers gripped her until her eyes watered. “You won’t put me off you, Elaheh. No matter what you say.”
“He’ll be coming here for me. You can’t do this, Abzari.”
He grunted. “You’re bluffing. No one knows we are here. And no one will know. I intend to stay here until you are carrying our baby. Only then will we return to marry.”
The color drained from her face and she felt sick and weak, as she realized that he could carry his plan out. He kicked open the door to the hut and pulled her inside. One glance told her the tumbledown place had been furnished, and was well stocked with supplies for at least a month—long enough for him to carry out his plans.
“Now, get on the bed!”
And in that moment she realized there was nothing she could do. Nothing, except fight—with her body and her mind. And she would go on fighting while she had a breath left in her body.
* * *
Xander drove with his foot slammed flat on the floor, urging the vehicle to go ever faster, willing the increasing wind not to cover over the tire prints of the car which had preceded him. He’d left his lands, and those of Tawazun, behind him now and had entered the vast edges of the red deserts of the Rub’ Al Khali, or the Empty Quarter as the Europeans had so prosaically called it. Thousands of years ago, the caravans of the Frankincense trade were able to cross these lands. But now they were drier and far more inhospitable than they had been before and few tribes inhabited the area. If the sands shifted, covering the tracks, Xander knew he didn’t stand a hope in hell of finding Ela.
He continued on as the sky darkened, but showed no stars—a sign that they were in for bad weather. Then he blinked, and he realized that the tracks had disappeared. He stopped the car and for a moment despair filled him. He stepped outside, pushed up his sunglasses and stared all around at the light which was deepening like a bruise, crushed by the elements, discolored by the oncoming storm.
“Ela!” He called out to the dumb wilderness of orange sands and black clouds. “Ela!” he called again, before pressing his hands to his temples in near despair. He twisted first one way and then another, searching the thickening gloom for signs of life. Behind him he knew his people would be following. But it was in front of him he strained his eyes, looking for anything out of the ordinary, anything which would reveal her whereabouts.
It wasn’t until he returned to the car, out of the sand-whipped air, and pulled out a map, that he knew. No one would venture far in this weather. It would be suicide. And he definitely knew that suicide wasn’t the intention of the vizier. His finger moved around the spot he was in until it stopped on a small black dot. And lingered there. It showed a small settlement had once existed there—maybe still was there for all he knew. He got onto the old-fashioned communication device they used in the desert and briefly told his team where he was headed, and that they should follow. But he couldn’t wait for them. Every second counted.
He put his foot down and, holding the compass, headed toward the small point on the map which was his only hope.
* * *
“How dare you speak to me like that?” Elaheh decided fighting with her wits was most likely to be effective. “I am your queen.”
He shook his head. “Once, maybe. But now you are the woman I love and intend to make my wife.”
“Love? Love?” she repeated, incredulous. “Is this how you treat someone you love?”
He took a step toward her and she had to fight not to step away. To do that would be to show weakness and she knew that never worked. “It’s how I treat someone who I need to claim.” He leered at her closely. “And I will make you mine. I’ll keep you here for as long as it takes to make you pregnant. And then you would be too humiliated to do anything other than make me your husband.”
“You are wrong.”
“No, I’m not wrong. You are too proud for anyone to imagine you have been humbled as I intend to humble you.”
Think, Elaheh, think. She had only her brains to protect her now. He was too big and too strong and she wasn’t trained in self defense to handle him. The only way out was the car and he had the keys in his pocket.
“You’re right, of course, Abzari,” she said, forcing her voice low and submissive.
His frown lifted and a sickening smile spread over his face. “I knew you’d see reason.” He gripped her shoulder and pulled her to him. It was what she wanted but she still had to force herself not to be repelled by everything about him—his sweating body, his odor, and the forceful grip of him. “Now, kiss me.”
That was going too far. She knew she couldn’t do it without retching. She tried to smile but his mouth was open on hers, open and wet, his tongue pushing into her mouth. She cried out, as at the same time her hand groped him, trying to find the keys. He seemed to take this as encouragement and pressed his hard erection against her, his hands bunching up her skirts, trying to draw them up her legs.
Just as his bear-like hands gripped her naked thigh she found the keys, pulled away from him and with all the force she could muster, kneed him in the groin. He doubled up with an oomph of air and an agonizing cry.
She ran around toward the door, yanked it open and then made a mistake. She turned to him, still bent double.
“I am not too proud to protect m
yself… in any way I can,” she said between gritted teeth. But, to her horror, he roared and threw himself at her and knocked her against the adobe wall, her head striking it and making the world spin. He slapped her face with his open hand and she tasted the metallic tang of blood, as the room turned upside down and she fell to the floor.
Elaheh lay on the beaten earth floor and spat blood out from her mouth. Her cheek pounded where he’d hit her. A roar filled her ears. At first she’d thought it was the blood pounding in her confused head, combined with the frenzied roar of Abzari. It was only when the table exploded into splinters as Abzari’s body fell onto it, that she realized, in her confusion that there was someone else in the room, someone else who was roaring.
Elaheh tried to roll over to see what was happening but the pain was too much on her arm. Lights suddenly exploded all around her, beaming into the room through previously black windows. She wondered if she’d died and had gone to hell—the pain, the screams and the fiery lights. The thought faded as her world suddenly turned black.
Chapter 11
“Ela, Ela,” the gentle voice repeated, over and over. She was reminded of her mother, not least because she felt as if she were being rocked to sleep, the gentle touch of a hand upon her cheek. Perhaps it wasn’t hell she’d landed in, but heaven. A promised land where she could forget her pain and sorrows and be reunited with her mother.
She sighed and tried to turn over but a blast of pain shot through her. No, not heaven then. This was the pain of the living. She opened her eyes to find Xander’s tender gaze upon her.
“Thank God you’ve awoken.”
She struggled to sit up but winced as they were thrown around.
“We’re just leaving the desert, there’s an ambulance waiting. Sit back. Your arm is broken.”
She did as he said, finding his own arm was cradling her. He held her against him, softening the bouncing of the vehicle, and she turned her face to his body, needing his comfort, as his hand stroked over her back.
“I have you now, Ela. I have you. You’re safe.”
She didn’t want to move, but she had to know. With all the effort she could, she looked up at him. “What about Abzari? What happened to him?”
“He’s dead. Killed by his own hand rather than face the consequences of his actions. He had a knife on him but he turned it on himself, rather than me, or you.”
She closed her eyes briefly as the image of self-inflicted violence slammed into her mind. “I don’t know what happened to him. For years he watched out for me, protected me. And all the while…” She couldn’t bear to express what it was she now knew he’d been thinking.
“All the while he was hiding his true thoughts and feelings. He wanted you, and he wanted your kingdom. And he was determined to have both, no matter what it took.”
“You know, he might have succeeded, if it weren’t for you, Xander.”
“I came along just in time.”
“No.” She held her finger against his cheek. “I don’t mean that. I mean that you taught me how to be strong.”
“You were always strong.”
She shook her head. “Not inside. Inside I was scared, and you took away that fear. That was why I could stand up to him. That was what delayed him from raping me.”
“Enough time for me to come for you.”
She nodded. “Without that strength I found in myself, things could have been very different.”
The vehicle suddenly stopped and the flashing lights of the ambulance filled the car. Ela looked out the window and recognized the road. It was the junction between her country and Xander’s.
Xander jumped out, opened her door and carried her to the ambulance. But she insisted on standing, on stepping up into the ambulance under her own power, despite the pain.
Xander shouted orders to the ambulance driver. “Sharq Havilah Hospital! As fast as you can.”
“No!” Elaheh’s voice was quiet but commanding. Everyone turned to her. “No. I wish to return to my country,” she said, looking at Xander. Then she turned to the ambulance driver. “Tawazun, please. The palace. Have the medical team meet me there.”
As she was settled into the back of the ambulance, Xander gripped the door and watched. It was only when she and the nurses had settled that he spoke.
“Tawazun?” he asked, in disbelief.
She nodded. “I’m Queen of Tawazun and I will return there. I’ll not cower or hide from anyone, ever again. I’ll stand on my own two feet from now on.”
“But why?”
“Because you showed me I could.”
Xander stepped away, the ambulance lights alternately slicing his face with blood-red and a yellow-gray—both were distorting, both revealed a pain which had Elaheh sitting up, beginning to reach out for him, changing her mind. But, before she could, the doors slammed shut and Xander disappeared from view.
As they drove away she closed her eyes and imagined Xander watching her leave. He’d saved her, he had feelings for her, she knew that. But, ultimately, they had no future. They were both leaders of their respective countries and duty had to come first. If he’d loved her, it might have been different, but he’d made it clear that his heart was buried in the desert alongside the woman he’d loved so many years before. And Xander had awoken in her a heart which needed to be loved and wouldn’t settle for anything less.
It had taken only months for Elaheh’s physical wounds to heal, but she was still waiting for the emotional pain of her separation from Xander to heal. Some days it was deadened by the constant work and pressure she put herself under as she continued to work hard as leader of her country. Other days—especially at night—the pain was keen like a freshly made knife wound and at those times she despaired.
Last night had been one of those nights. She’d dreamed of him caressing and kissing her, teasing her with his lips and his fingers, and when she’d awoken to an empty bed, breathless with lust, the pain of her loss hit her more sharply than ever.
She rose from her desk, unable to focus.
She knew she loved him, and that he was still in love with a girl who’d died years earlier. But she also knew she was stronger now than she’d ever been; she was a woman able to ask for what she wanted.
She’d worked hard to strengthen her country so it was able to move forward into a future of economic and cultural strength. She’d appointed new advisors who were keen to see Tawazun become the powerful nation it had the potential to be, but had also worked with established figures who would ensure their country’s past wasn’t forgotten. If she could do that successfully, she could do anything. Anything. The word echoed in her brain. Maybe even marry a man she loved with all her heart, but who didn’t love her.
When she’d been driven away from him that night in the ambulance, she’d lied to Xander, and to herself. She’d told him that duty had to come first—her duty to her country. But it had been an excuse. What had come first was her pride. She didn’t want to admit she loved someone who didn’t love her.
But the intervening months had shown her the truth of that old adage, pride comes before a fall. Because while her status as queen and her country had gone from strength to strength, her heart and emotions had been in free fall, and it was only when they’d landed that she knew she couldn’t continue without him. Or at least, she couldn’t continue without asking him for what she wanted. It was her last chance at happiness.
She jumped up and called her assistant. She refused to have another night dreaming of what she wanted, without asking for it. If he said no, she’d move on. Life would never be quite as she wanted it, but she’d make it into something. And… there was a chance he might say yes. And then what a life awaited her! Her heart quickened at the thought. She was determined to use any weapon she had to full advantage. If she had to seduce him first, then she would. Seduce and then propose. It was a daunting plan, but she was no longer a woman to be daunted by anything.
Life felt like food devoid of flavor since Xander
had left Ela. He’d taken little nibbles of it for sustenance, but had soon been put off by its dryness and tastelessness. He wanted fire but there was none to be had anywhere else.
He’d spent the intervening months watching Ela grow in queenship from afar, leading her country on to great things. The video meetings between the leaders of their countries were impersonal things, business-like and brief. He’d barely exchanged half a dozen words with Ela, and they’d been strictly business. The work they’d done earlier on the infrastructure project had been completed and handed on to their administrators. There was no reason for them to be alone together anymore, despite Xander racking his brains, trying to conjure up a reason.
No, Ela no longer needed him. She’d moved on. But had he?
He pushed himself off the chair reluctantly and walked over to the window, and looked out at the darkening sky streaked with apricot from the sun which had slipped behind the indigo horizon. The city which lay before him, and the land which stretched to the blue-hazed mountains, was no longer something to be avoided, something thrust upon him by Roshan. Ever since the massacre of his parents and beloved Selya, he’d hated the place. But hate was the flip side to love and, it seemed, at some point over the past months, his life had done a 180 and landed squarely on the side of love again. And who had brought about that change? One person who’d reached into his heart, squeezed it, shaken it about it a bit, and, in so doing, had resuscitated it.
Absent-mindedly he rubbed his chest, where his heart beat with a life which was more than the physical pumping supply of blood around his body. This new heart of his affected everything he did—from his interactions with his people, to his decisions about their welfare, to his love for his brother and his growing family. But this new heart of his also felt pain now. Especially at night, when he had nothing to fill his mind, no busyness to occupy his thoughts. Then, like now, the absence of the woman he loved, and who no longer needed him, crept into every corner of his being, poking his newly found sensitivity, and finding it raw and needy.