Osman’s voice, halting and raspy, made her jump.
“You’re awake!”
“Am I? I was beginning to wonder if I was dreaming.”
She wanted to ask if he heard her whispered profession of love but decided it was better to be practical. “Can you move your legs?”
She saw his robes shift. “Yes,” he croaked.
“How about your hands?” She watched his fingers flutter.
“Can you turn yourself over?”
“I have to do everything for myself?” She saw that wicked gleam of mischief in his green-gold eyes.
Her eyes narrowed. “How long have you been awake?”
“I’m still not sure I am.” A smile tugged at the side of his mouth that she could see. The other was pressed against the sandy ground.
He wasn’t going to admit he heard her, so she decided to act as if he hadn’t. No sense in him knowing how much power he had over her. Amahd exclaimed his relief while Osman rolled himself gingerly on to his back, and she felt his ribs through the long robe. “I don’t think anything’s broken. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been shot from a cannon. What happened?”
“I was going to ask you the same.” She glanced around, wondering if there were snipers training their sights on him. “Apparently you were last spotted riding a horse out of town.”
“The chestnut mare! Where is she?” He eased himself painfully to a sitting position, and scanned the almost-empty road.
“I haven’t seen a horse. She probably ran for home.”
“And I have no idea where that is.” He let out a colorful ancient curse. “But her owner recognized me so maybe he’ll do me the favor of bringing her back. I hope she doesn’t get injured. I can’t believe I fell off.”
“We heard gunshots from Nabattur, maybe that startled her.”
“An Ubarite horse would never shy at gunshots.” He said dismissively. “They are trained to handle all situations. Though I suppose I did buy her without trying her. What a fine mare, though. I’ll put out a reward for her return.”
“Never mind the horse right now. We need to get you back to the palace.” And a nasty thought crept over her. “And I have a plane to catch.”
Osman’s expression darkened. She watched him inhale. He looked like he wanted to say something but wouldn’t let himself. He must be furious with her for accusing him of being like his despotic father. For a second she wanted to apologize for the accusation, but then she decided now was not the time to bring that up. “My injuries don’t seem serious.” He was still sitting and attempted to rise to his feet, a cloud of dust flying up from his robes, but failed.
“Is it your legs?”
“I don’t know.” Concern furrowed his brow. She held out her hand for him to grab and together they managed to get him to his feet. “My head’s throbbing.”
“You could have a concussion! You shouldn’t ride without a helmet. Your brain could be swelling. Where is that helicopter?”
“Helicopter? I don’t need to go to a hospital. I just need to get home and rest. Maybe take a couple of aspirin.” He signaled to his men to get the car ready.
Was he really going home without getting checked out?
Would he let her go without even asking her to stay and take care of him? What if he did have a concussion and became seriously ill later on? Perhaps she should stay with him to check his pupils and make sure he was able to talk and think normally.
“My plane ticket can be rescheduled as long as I’m on another flight within twenty-four hours.”
“That’s settled then. You’ll come home with me tonight, and you’ll fly tomorrow.” His face was expressionless.
“Okay.” She agreed so quickly that it must be obvious to him she didn’t really want to leave. But it was the least she could do after he’d done so much to help her and Allan. She’d be on a plane tomorrow and back on track, as soon as she made sure Osman was okay. She wasn’t going to whisper sweet nothings or even apologize for her earlier accusations. She was simply going to make sure that a friend was okay.
She helped him to the car, where for once he didn’t insist on driving. In the back seat, she took the first solid breath since Amahd had been unable to contact him by phone.
She’d learned one thing today. She cared a lot about Osman. More than she’d previously realized or admitted to herself.
And possibly he knew it.
Back at the palace Osman didn’t protest his men’s attempts to install him in his bedroom, though he did issue a lot of orders about finding out who fired gunshots during a curfew. Sam was guided to a different room—next to Osman’s. Her luggage was still in the Land Rover with Allan’s so she phoned him and asked him to leave it with the airline so she could pick it up at the airport the following day. He curtly agreed.
She asked if she could eat in her room as she was too wrung out by everything to make conversation, and one of the servants brought her a plate of tender meat that was probably goat and some spiced rice. She’d miss the food here. She and Allan used to go to Mustafa’s Mediterranean Restaurant at least twice a month, but that had nothing on the food she’d enjoyed in Ubar.
She felt a wave of sadness that her relationship with Allan and the entire future she’d imagined for them had evaporated like an oasis mirage. It was scary how wrong she’d been about the whole thing. Now she’d experienced true passion and arousal with Osman she knew she’d never be satisfied with a purely intellectual relationship again.
She liked the way Osman had backed off when she asked him to. Maybe they could build a relationship more organically? He could visit her in New York, take her on an ordinary date….
She glanced at the door in the wall that led to his room, and wondered if it was locked. Would he appear in the middle of the night, ready to take command of her body? Part of her hoped so. She scolded that part and told it to take a cold shower.
Still, she did need to check on Osman and make sure he wasn’t showing symptoms of concussion. That’s why she came back here after all. He’d shown amazing restraint in not coming through the door himself. Maybe he’d lost interest in her. Perhaps he hadn’t liked the way she stood up to him and told him he was like the murderous father he despised. She regretted that now. She’d said it in the heat of the moment, knowing it would hit where it hurt.
Her barb had its intended effect and had propelled him into danger.
She rose to her feet, walked silently to the door and knocked on the polished wood. No answer. Anticipation turned to disappointment. Could he be asleep? She should let him rest and recuperate.
Unless he had a brain injury brewing.
Which wasn’t very likely.
Still… She knocked again. No answer. She tried the handle, and it turned smoothly. Nerves jangling, she pushed the door open a crack and peeped into his room. It was dark, lit only by patterned moonlight filtering through the filigreed wooden shutters. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the carved wood bed. A white sheet draped over Osman’s impressive body.
Feeling like a burglar, she snuck across the room. She could just check to make sure he was breathing normally, then retreat. What did normal breathing sound like? Not like hers, which grew increasingly rapid as she approached the bed. His subtle but inviting scent caught her attention as she leaned over him, almost close enough to feel the warmth from his body. Eyes closed he looked peaceful and gorgeous. He was also brilliant, successful and royal. She was probably the only woman in the world crazy enough to rebuff his advances. The thought made her smile. His breathing was slow and steady, so she could return to bed with enough peace of mind to get some sleep. She’d much rather stand here and stare at him all night, though. Tomorrow she’d be leaving, which right now felt like a big mistake.
The sadness seeping through her made her realize how much she’d started to hope that they’d spend more time together before she left. Which was foolish because she was the one who’d told him to back off. At le
ast he seemed to be okay. She turned, sighed and was about to head for the door when he grabbed her wrist.
She shrieked, but so quietly that hopefully no one else heard it. “You’re awake.”
“You woke me.”
“I’m sorry. I tried to be quiet.”
“You were quiet, but your gaze started to burn my skin.” His eyes gleamed in the moonlight.
A smile crept across her mouth. “Sorry about that.”
“You were going to sneak away without saying hello?”
“I didn’t want to wake you while you’re trying to recover.”
“Just the sight of you as I lay on the road was enough to restore me.”
She saw a flash of white teeth. “Charmer.”
“Seducer.” He stroked her hand with his thumb, which sent ripples of desire deeper inside her.
“Me? You’re the seducer. I came here with my boyfriend, remember?” Allan must be on the plane by now. A relief for both of them, no doubt.
“I rescued you from a life of disappointment.”
“I think you did.” She sat on the bed next to him. The silky movement and feel of his thumb on her skin made her want to touch him. “And I thank you for that.”
“How are you going to thank me?”
“By saying thank you?” she teased.
He reached up and touched her cheek. “I have a better idea.”
“Aren’t you too bruised for that?”
“No way.” He rose to a sitting position and kissed her on the lips. Arousal flooded her. She let her fingers roam over his muscular body, enjoying the firmness of every fit and agile part of it.
She pulled her lips from his just far enough to say, “Well, if you’re sure you’re okay.”
“I’m a lot more than okay right now.” Desire rumbled in his deep voice. He peeled away her lightweight pajama top and feathered his lips over her nipples. The sensation was so intense that she wanted to scream, but she managed to grit her teeth instead. Before Osman she’d never imagined that she could want to make love so badly that she might explode if she didn’t.
She let her fingers wander low over his chest and hips—which proved to be already bare. His erection was ready and waiting for her. “Were you dreaming about me?”
“Obviously.” He slid her pants down over her legs and lifted her into a sitting position on top of him. She eased down, taking him inside her as slowly as she could, feeling herself open up to the sensation. They kissed as she sank deeper, and he thumbed her nipples gently as she started to gyrate back and forth. Sensation cascaded over her in hot waves that made her breath catch. Her first orgasm gripped him and made him shudder with pleasure.
How did he do this to her? Was it just chemistry? It felt more like alchemy.
He flipped them over with the deft sureness of an acrobat and guided them both deeper into an unexplored universe of pleasure.
She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay in his bed tonight. To awaken in his arms, to spend the day with him, learning more about his beautiful and enigmatic nation.
And she didn’t want to catch that plane.
But she had a film to edit.
Practical thoughts scratched at the outside of her consciousness, but the rhythms Osman created made it impossible to think so she abandoned the effort and gave herself over to feeling. Pleasure flowed through her from head to toe, filling her and banishing all doubt and fear. Living utterly in the moment, she gasped as he exploded inside her and their insides pulsed in unison.
Lying in Osman’s arms felt perfect. She was supposed to be right here, right now, with him. How was that possible?
Chest still heaving with emotion, she stroked his cheek.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, you do.” He nuzzled her gently. “You are going to marry me and share a life with me. You promised you would on the road to Nabattur.”
Her heart seized. “I didn’t realize you could hear me.”
“I know you meant it, too. You’re not one for idle promises. You’d never have said it unless it came from your heart.”
He was right. She’d meant every word and pledged her whole life to him in that desperate plea. But could she really abandon her sensible, quiet existence in New York for life at a king’s side? “I’m very confused.”
“No, you’re not.” Osman didn’t blink. “You keep trying to confuse yourself by thinking too much about what you want and don’t want, but deep down inside, you already know.”
She let out a long, slow breath in gradual increments. She looked deep inside her heart—or rather the most private recesses of her cerebral cortex—then right at Osman. “I want you.” She’d told him she loved him, and she meant it.
“And I want you. I fell in love with you at first sight. And I have every reason to believe I’ll be in love with you until my dying breath or even beyond.” Osman’s eyes grew dark with emotion. “And not just because I’m an Ubarite, but because I’m a man and my spirit and body connect with yours on the deepest levels.
She knew he meant every word, because she felt the same way. “I do love you, too,” she admitted, emotion almost choking her. “I know I said it under duress when I was worried you might die, but it’s true. I’ve never had feelings anything like this for anyone else.”
“Then there’s no need for confusion. The only thing that remains is to plan our wedding.”
Sam’s heart felt so full it hurt. She really did want to marry Osman. It was crazy, but it also seemed…right. “I’m sorry we missed a chance to marry at the festival in Ubarite tradition.”
She felt his smile against her cheek. “Spoken like a true Ubarite queen, but now we’ll have time to plan a royal wedding that will gather all our people together in celebration. It’ll be even better this way.”
“I never imagined having a big wedding.” She frowned, imagining herself in one of the region’s lavish gold-and-silk dresses. Truth be told, she felt rather wonderful in them. “I guess I’d always assumed that I’d buy a simple vintage dress and stand under a tree in Central Park or something.”
“You deserve more than that.” He hugged her tight, and emotion filled her until she felt she might burst. “You always have, though you didn’t seem to know it. We’ll fly your friends here from New York, and your family from California, and they’ll all get to know Ubar. Maybe they’ll even want to move here.”
She laughed. “I’d be fine with going to visit them regularly.”
“You’ll need to travel to make your award-winning films. I look forward to accompanying you on the journeys.”
“That sounds fun.” The prospect of pursuing her professional dreams with Osman at her side was almost too much to imagine. “I really do believe we’ll make it work. I’m so glad you’re okay. When I thought you might die, I…” Emotion choked her. She couldn’t imagine being without him. It scared her that someone wanted him dead. “Do you have any idea who’s trying to kill you?”
“Not yet, but we’ll get to the bottom of it. Obviously I’m not easy to kill.” A smile tugged at his mouth. “And I have no intention of dying now that I have you to share my life with.”
She felt like an idiot for fighting so hard against her feelings for Osman. She might have thrown away their whole future just because she clung to outmoded—and dull!—ideas of what her life should be. “I guess I should be thankful for those gunshots.”
“When I find the culprit who fired them, I shall…” She heard him draw in a sharp breath. “Cover him with garlands of roses!”
She chuckled. “But what happened to the horse? Was she ever found?”
Osman smiled. “At last report she was quietly eating dinner in our stables. She’s a magnificent animal. I intend for her to be your horse.”
“I can’t ride.”
“Yet. Everything is possible if you’re open to adventure.”
Sam felt a grin spread across her face. “You have a point there. And I have a plane ticket to cancel.
”
THE END
Read more about Samantha, Osman and his brothers—and find out who’s behind the attempts on their lives—in the rest of the Desert Kings stories:
Novella - Stranded with the Sheikh FREE!
Rescued by the Sheikh
Bought for the Sheikh
Novella - A Christmas Wedding – FREE!
Return of the Rebel Sheikh
Captivated by the Sheikh
Boxed set with all six Desert Kings books
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About Jennifer Lewis
Jennifer Lewis loves heat in all its forms including spicy food, steamy temperatures and smoking hot heroes. She is a USA TODAY bestselling author and her books have been translated into more than twenty languages. She lives in sunny South Florida and when she’s not sitting at her laptop she can often be found at the beach. Read more about her books at www.jenlewis.com.
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Fat - Sara Wylde
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“You’re pretty, for a fat girl.”
That’s nothing Claire Howard hasn’t heard before, and there’s part of her that doesn’t care, that thinks it’s okay to love herself just the way she is. Then there’s that other voice in her head, the one that plays on a constant loop that gets louder whenever people scrutinize her dinner order, snicker when she needs a belt extender on a plane, and outright laugh when they see her with her the kind of man they don’t think fat girls deserve. It reminds her that existing while fat is the worst thing in the world. It’s worse than being ignorant, bigoted or cruel—at least according to society’s standards. Even when she has the attentions of two men who are the embodiment of fantasy.
But it’s not their love that matters, it’s her own. Fat is a brand that’s been seared into every aspect of her life—even her heart. Can Claire love herself enough to reach past the labels for her own happiness?
Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology Page 57