Michael nodded. “With their deaths, everything changed. A month ago I was a structural engineer working on a bridge in Egypt. Now I’m ruling a country. Believe me, Jensen, it’s not the life I would have chosen for myself.”
“What about your brother?”
“He knew from the day he was born that he was to be king. My father made sure that everything in his life, from his education to his fiancée, was geared toward that goal.”
“And you?”
“As the younger brother, I was given to my mother to care for, and she chose to raise me in a more American fashion. Over the years, I’ve spent more time in your country than in my own. Your ways are mine. I even speak better English than Arabic.”
“Can’t you just walk away?”
“No. Sumaru and its people were my father’s responsibility and now they’ve been passed on to me. I won’t dishonor my family by shirking my duties.”
Jensen was staring at his profile as he spoke the words. She saw an almost grim determination. And when he turned his head and their eyes met, she saw a great sadness.
Instinctively she reached out to touch his face. He caught her hand in his before it reached his cheek and lowered it to her side. “Lesson number one. Never touch a man when someone might be watching.”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“There are eyes everywhere,” said Michael. “Always assume you’re being watched.”
“What would be so wrong if someone saw me touch your face?”
“It just isn’t done. Besides which, I’m an engaged man. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”
“Engaged?” Jensen didn’t know why the news hit her so hard, but it did. He was her brother’s friend, nothing more. It had nothing to do with her.
“That’s right.”
“I didn’t know.”
“But everyone else in my country does.” He looked back out at the desert for a moment, then turned to descend the dune. “Ali will have dinner ready.”
Jensen tried her best to keep up with him as they made their way down the dune, but she stumbled repeatedly. Michael slowed his pace and took her arm.
Jensen looked at him curiously. “What about that no touching rule of yours?”
“Some chivalry is allowed. Walking in sand takes some getting used to. It’s not easy to balance, even for people who have been doing it for years.”
Jensen looked around as they walked. “I miss grass,” she said. “Trees. And water. Especially water. And I’ve only been out here for two days.”
“You get used to it. The desert has its own beauty.”
Jensen thought about what had happened to her earlier. If Michael and Ali hadn’t come along when they had, her fate could have been a very different one. “A lethal beauty,” she said quietly.
Michael looked down at her. “Like some women.”
Chapter Five
When they arrived at the campsite, they found a table set for two with bread, rice, a meat of some sort, sugared dates and a bottle of water, all illuminated by a lantern.
Ali was nowhere in sight, but it was his handiwork. No one else could have done it.
“I’m impressed,” said Jensen. “Ferocious, saber wielding and he cooks, too. You’re a very lucky man.”
Michael suddenly unleashed the smile he’d only hinted at earlier. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”
“Does he speak English?”
“More than he lets on.” Michael waved her onto one of the large pillows Ali had placed near the low table while he sat on the other. As Michael passed food to her, Jensen took a little.
“Eat,” said Michael. “It won’t hurt you. You’ve got to be hungry.”
“I was. But I think when you go without food long enough, you lose your appetite.”
“Take more anyway.”
She took a larger helping of the rice and broke off a chunk of bread with her hands. “Is that honey?” she asked of a small dish of tempting golden liquid.
“Yes. Help yourself.”
There was no spoon. She tried delicately tilting the bowl so that just a little would fall onto her plate.
Michael smiled as he took the bowl from her, put it on the table, dunked his own bread into it and bit off a chunk. Some honey dripped onto his lips.
Jensen gently wiped it away with her fingertip, then seemingly unconscious of the intimacy of the gesture, raised that finger to her own lips and licked it off.
Michael had to force himself to look down at his plate and focus on his food.
Jensen realized instantly she’d made a mistake and tried to cover it up with conversation. “Where’s Ali?” she asked.
“Nearby. He prefers to eat alone.”
“Of course.”
“You should learn to trust him. He’ll be helping us with our search for your brother.”
“He doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would be someone’s bodyguard.”
“Why not?”
“Besides being the most frightening man I’ve ever met, he’s also the most dignified.”
“To Ali, to be trusted with the guarding of the king is a great honor.”
Jensen stared at him.
“What?” said Michael.
“I’ve never had dinner with a king before. Or are you a sheik?”
“In this instance, the terms are interchangeable.”
“What should I call you?”
“Michael.”
“Even in public?”
“In public, you won’t be addressing me at all.”
“Ah, the woman thing.”
“That’s right. And it’s not to be taken lightly. Out here in the desert we can be reasonably casual, but when we’re in the public eye you must behave with complete decorum.”
Jensen was utterly serious. “I understand. I’ll do exactly as you tell me at all times.”
“Thank you.” He inclined his head toward her plate. “Are you finished?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can retire to the tent if you’d like. You’ll find some fresh water, a bowl and clean cloths so you can wash. We’ll get an early start in the morning.”
“Where are you sleeping?”
“Outside.”
“And Ali?”
“He always sleeps up on the dune where he has a view of the surrounding desert.”
Jensen rose from the pillow and walked into the tent. A lit lantern sat on a small table beside a futonlike cushion that was apparently supposed to be her bed. There was also a basin, soap and a gallon container of water, along with the pack containing her things.
Ali again.
Jensen laid out what she needed and started to undress, then realized she’d forgotten to ask Michael something.
Walking back outside, she softly called his name.
There was no answer.
She walked around to the back of the tent where she saw the dimmest of lights and stopped dead in her tracks.
Michael was there, all right, his back to her, stripped down to a bare nothing, sponging down his body. His broad, bronzed shoulders flowed into a beautifully muscled back and a butt that was made for—well, just about anything one could think of.
Wearing jeans came to mind.
Or wearing nothing at all, for that matter.
He was absolutely beautiful. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen—not that she’d seen very many, to be honest. Better to say he was the most beautiful man she’d ever imagined. Now that gave him quite a bit of competition.
And then, to her chagrin, he turned sideways and she got a whole new view.
Oh, oh, oh. Let’s just say the side view lived up completely to the rear view. Nothing disappointing there at all. Quite the contrary.
Whatever question Jensen had intended to ask had completely fled her mind. She turned and, as quietly as she could, made her way back to the tent.
She did the best she could to put the picture of Michael as he was outside out of her mind as she piled her hair o
n top of her head and stepped out of her clothes.
After pouring water into the basin, she soaked a washcloth, rang it out and wiped it over her face. She could feel the abrasion of the sand on her skin as she wiped it away, then rinsed out the cloth, soaped it and washed her face again, moving the cloth over her throat, the back of her neck, over her arms and breasts and down her body.
Michael had finished and now sat shirtless on a blanket on the sand, looking toward the tent.
He wasn’t intentionally spying on her, but Jensen’s silhouette was visible through the canvas as the lamp behind her flickered.
He sat mesmerized, watching as Jensen tilted back her head, raised her hand and squeezed water out of the cloth so that it ran down her throat and between her breasts.
With a tightening of his jaw, Michael turned away, lay on his back and stared at the night sky.
Jensen finished washing, then put on the midthigh length man’s shirt she wore for pajamas.
Michael turned his head to watch her again as she buttoned the shirt and rolled up the long sleeves. His eyes followed her hand as she reached up and released her hair from its holder, letting it fall in a wave down her back.
She brushed it with long, slow strokes, first over one shoulder and then the other. Suddenly, with the brush halfway down her hair, she just stopped dead still.
Michael raised up on an elbow.
Jensen stared in frozen terror as the brown-and-orange-backed snake slithered across the floor of the tent to within a foot of her. She couldn’t scream and knew better than to move.
“Michael,” she whispered—or squeaked—knowing perfectly well he couldn’t hear her.
Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, there was a flash of steel and the now dead snake was pinned to the ground with a dagger.
Jensen looked up expecting to see Ali standing there, but it was Michael.
“Did it bite you?” he asked, clearly worried.
She shook her head.
He picked up the dagger with the snake still impaled on it and threw the reptile through the opening of the tent into the desert beyond.
“Was it poisonous?” asked Jensen.
“Very.”
“How do we know if it was alone?”
A corner of his mouth lifted despite the situation. “They don’t usually travel in packs.”
“Don’t laugh at me,” she said with a lightly trembling voice that sounded near to tears even as she noticed for the first time he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Michael put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a brotherly hug. “I’ m sorry. Everything is all right now. I won’t let anything hurt you. Go to bed.”
He started to leave the tent.
“How can you keep anything from hurting me if you’re out there and I’m in here?” she asked.
“Go to sleep, Jensen.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered under her breath. “You’re the one with the dagger.” Jensen checked every corner of the tent before sitting on the ground-level bed and nervously braiding her hair, her gaze flitting here and there.
“Turn out the lantern,” said Michael from his blanket outside. “You’ll never get to sleep with the light on.”
Jensen hesitated a full minute before reaching over and snuffing the light. She lay down and pulled the thin, smooth cover over herself, her eyes wide-open.
Half an hour later, her eyes were still open. “Michael?”
He didn’t answer.
“Michael?” she called louder.
“What?”
“I can’t sleep. May I come outside with you?”
He let out a long breath as he rose from his blanket and came inside the tent. “Move over.”
She scooted to the edge of the cushion. Michael lifted the blanket and slid in beside her, his chest toward her back. “Think you can sleep now?” he asked.
“Do you have your dagger with you?”
“Yes.”
She suddenly felt completely safe. “Then yes, I think I can sleep now. Thank you.”
“Good night again.”
“Night.”
There was very little room. Their bodies had no choice but to touch. His body cupped hers. She could feel his warmth against her back and it gave her great comfort. There was nothing sexual about it, though a picture of how he looked without his clothes flashed through her mind.
She pushed it away as quickly as it came.
Well, she tried.
She was almost too tired to think about anything. With an exhausted sigh, Jensen was asleep within minutes.
Michael, though, was wide-awake, his eyes on the back of Jensen’s head. He felt the warmth of her body just as she had felt his, but his reaction required restraint to keep his body in check. He didn’t want her to feel what she did to him.
And so he began working out complicated mathematical problems in his mind.
Good thing he was an engineer.
He was in a position of trust with Jensen, and he didn’t want to do anything to make her uneasier than she already was.
And she was his best friend’s little sister.
Though not so very little anymore.
And she smelled wonderful.
Her hair; her skin.
It reminded him of sunshine and fresh air with a hint of lily. It was unlike any scent he’d ever come across before.
Michael was tired, too, but had to force himself to keep his eyes open. He was afraid that in sleep he would give away what he could control when he was awake.
It was going to be a long night.
She moved against him and Michael, more asleep than awake, was instantly and obviously aroused.
He wrapped her more tightly in his arms and sleepily rubbed his beard shadowed cheek against her hair.
Jensen was having a dream so wonderful she fought against waking. She was thinking that she should remember this for one of her books. It was so completely real she could actually feel the strong, protective arms that held her.
Michael’s arms.
She moved her hands down his smoothly muscled back and felt his warmly exhaled breath near her ear.
With her eyes still closed, she kissed his shoulder, then raised her lips to his for a slow, sleepy kiss.
Michael awoke fully in midkiss and pulled away, horrified by what had happened. “Jensen,” he said. She sighed and nestled against his body again, her forehead against his throat, her hand resting lightly on his thigh, sound asleep.
Michael froze for a moment before taking her hand from his thigh and raising it to his chest. He lay there for a long time, listening to her breathing; feeling her body against his, their heat combining and making them both damp.
Math couldn’t help him now.
He turned his head for just a moment and rested his lips against her hair, then gently disengaged himself and rose from the cushion to walk to the opening of the tent.
Ali sat a few feet away, legs crossed, back erect, staring into the darkness. Michael left the tent and sat on the sand beside him. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.
Ali nodded. “The woman must go.”
“I know,” said Michael. He could always count on Ali to tell him the absolute truth.
Ali looked at this man he revered above all others. “But you don’t want her to.”
“What I want doesn’t matter. She’s here to find her brother. Once that’s done, she’ll leave.”
“But will you be able to let her go?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“I look at a lot of women.”
“Not the way you look at her.”
Michael nodded. “I know. She’s different. I feel differently about her. Ever since I saw her in that hotel room, it’s like she’s turned my life upside down. Nothing looks the same or even tastes the same. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since that night.”
“You can’t love her.”
“I know.�
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“Even if you do, you can’t. You have obligations that reach far beyond yourself and your own longings.”
Michael tiredly ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve always been a practical man, Ali. You know that. Emotion has played a very small part in my life.”
“Until this woman,” said Ali.
Silence fell between them.
“Do you believe in love at first sight?” Michael asked.
“Yes. But I also believe in taking a long second look.”
“You stole that line.”
A smile cracked Ali’s stern countenance. “I confess it, which makes it no less true. Perhaps what you feel for this Jensen O’Hara is mere desire.”
“There’s nothing ‘mere’ about my desire for Jensen. It very nearly overwhelms me every time I look at her.”
“She’s very beautiful.”
“It’s more than that.”
Ali nodded. “I know.”
“You like her, don’t you?” said Michael in surprise.
“Contrary to popular belief,” said Ali, “I am human. It would be difficult not to like the woman.”
“If only I’d met her sooner. Even just a few months. Things could be so different.”
“But you didn’t, and your destiny is already in motion. There’s no changing it now. In eight weeks you will be married and your first order of business will be to produce an heir.”
“First order of business,” repeated Michael.
“What an appropriate way to phrase it. I’m going to have a child with a woman I barely know and certainly don’t love.”
“It’s the way of our world, Your Highness. You may one day change things, but not soon enough to help you.”
“I know. And I accept that.” Michael rose from the sand. “Good night, Ali.”
Ali rose as well and disappeared into the night.
Michael went back into the tent and stood over Jensen, looking down at her as she slept. With a gentle hand, he pushed her hair away from her damp face, then lifted the silky end of her long braid and held it, rubbing his fingers over it as he watched her, then placing it gently over her breast. He had seen the pictures Henry had carried of her as a child, but he had never imagined her like this.
The muscle in his jaw tightened.
Ali was right. His life was mapped out.
There was no room in it for feelings for Jensen O’Hara.
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