Claimed for the Desert Prince's Heir

by Heidi Rice

  At his brother.

  His wife had ridden for two days through the desert. Against his orders. Putting herself in grave danger. And his brother had allowed it. Had facilitated it.

  He swung round with his wife in his arms to see Zane strolling towards him.

  ‘Can you stand?’ he asked Kasia, his voice vibrating with fury.

  She nodded, her eyes wide with confusion. ‘Yes.’

  Putting her gently on her feet, he released her and marched to his brother.

  ‘You son of a bitch,’ he shouted in Kholadi, then heaved back his clenched fist and struck the Sheikh on the chin. The pain reverberated up his arm but he didn’t care as he heard his brother’s surprised grunt and watched him tumble backwards onto his rear end.

  ‘You dare to put my wife’s life in danger?’ he said, in Narabian this time as he stood over him. ‘She carries twin children.’

  He heard the click of rifle firing mechanisms engaging, and the shouts as Zane’s men and his own drew their weapons.

  ‘Stand down,’ Zane shouted to his men, lifting his arm as he levered himself off the ground, rubbing his chin.

  Fury still flowed through Raif’s veins. Until Kasia’s cry from behind him.

  ‘Raif, stop! What are you doing?’

  Her fingers gripped his bare arm, the jolt of awareness drawing him back from the edge. He turned and gathered her into his arms. He cradled her cheeks in his palms, then pressed his face into that wild hair, inhaling the spicy scent of her, letting the longing flow through his veins.

  ‘Raif, you have to tell your men to lower their rifles,’ she whispered.

  He lifted his head, nodded to his men. Who put away their weapons.

  Zane’s hand touched his shoulder. ‘I have a message from my wife,’ he said, as he pressed his fingers to his torn lip, the slow smile on his face confusing Raif.

  If there was anything amusing about this situation, he could not imagine what it was.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Zane. I should never have involved you in all this,’ Kasia said from beside him.

  ‘It’s okay, Kaz, we’ve always got your back,’ his brother said, with a familiarity that had Raif’s temper spiking again.

  But the Sheikh hadn’t taken his gaze off Raif, and what Raif saw in his brother’s blue eyes wasn’t the anger or contempt he expected but something that looked strangely like affection and understanding.

  ‘What is this message?’ he snapped at his brother, hating it that he didn’t understand what was going on—not just with his wife and his brother but also within himself.

  He’d almost started a war between their two nations by punching the Sheikh, but as he flexed his fingers, he knew he would do it all over again to protect Kasia from harm.

  ‘Cat said stop being an ass,’ he said, the smile that split his face only confusing Raif more. ‘And talk to your wife.’ Clicking his fingers over his head, he summoned his men to mount up. ‘Now, I must leave you two if we are to get back to our camp before nightfall.’

  ‘Wait!’ Raif grasped his brother’s arm, fury rising again to disguise his confusion. ‘You can’t leave Kasia here, it is not safe for her, she needs to return with you to the Golden Palace.’ Perhaps she would refuse to return to Cambridge, but at least she would be well cared for at the palace.

  Zane covered Raif’s fingers with his and eased his grip, the look he sent him almost pitying.

  ‘That’s not my choice, brother, or yours. It’s your wife’s.’ He glanced past Raif to the woman standing beside him and nodded. The silent communication between the two of them had the anger rising into Raif’s throat even further. ‘She’s a grown woman, and your princess,’ his brother added. ‘She makes her own choices. And for some reason, the person she wants to be with is you.’ Speaking to Kasia, he added, ‘Kasia, I will wait at the overnight camp for a day. Send a rider if you would like me to return for you.’

  He watched Kasia nod and thank his brother. He remained silent, so furious and confused now he could not speak. Then Zane bade them both farewell and mounted Pegasus. He waved once, then shouted to his men, urging the stallion into a gallop as he led the party back over the ridge.

  ‘Raif, we must talk,’ Kasia said, her voice quivering with emotion. But the unwavering gaze and the defiant tilt of her chin told a different story.

  He scooped her up and began marching towards his tent, set apart from the others at the back of the camp.

  ‘We will talk,’ he said, struggling to contain his temper at this turn of events, and all the emotions that had been churning in his gut for days now, maybe even weeks. ‘And then I will escort you back to Zafari and the Golden Palace myself.’

  She could not stay here. Already his hunger for her was all but overwhelming him. He wanted her so much, but more than that he needed her.

  He could not give in to that need. Because he could not risk destroying her, too, as he had once destroyed his mother.

  * * *

  ‘Raif, put me down, I can walk,’ Kasia said, trying to sound firm and coherent.

  Not easy when her emotions were in turmoil and had been from the moment she’d spotted him, standing strong and proud, his bare chest glistening with sweat, staring at her as if she were an apparition. She’d expected surprise, maybe shock, possibly irritation that she had defied his orders and come to the desert anyway, but what she had not been prepared for was the explosion of violence—and the raw emotions she had seen in his eyes. So much more than shock.

  She’d seen the anguish in his face when he’d hit Zane and knew that there was much more going on here than she had realised.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I will not put you down.’ She clung to her husband’s neck as he marched through the encampment, his people turning to stare at them both.

  ‘Please, Raif.’ She was squirming—his bare chest, the captivating scent of his sweat, the rough tattoo glistening on his skin, the scars she had become so accustomed to making her ache.

  ‘Stop wriggling,’ he said as he carried her into a large tent at the edge of a water hole. He shouted something in Kholadi to the older woman who was busy arranging his clothing. Kasia had been studying the language for over a week and followed the gist of it—there had been a mention of a doctor.

  ‘Stop,’ she said in Kholadi as the woman rushed to leave the tent and obey his orders, then formed a basic sentence, telling her the doctor was not needed.

  ‘You speak Kholadi?’ he said as the woman left and he finally placed her on her feet.

  ‘I’ve been studying the language.’

  He nodded, obviously surprised by this development, and she felt a prickle of annoyance. What had he expected? That she wouldn’t bother to learn the language of his people? But before she could question his assumptions, the furrow on his forehead deepened. ‘You must see the doctor,’ he said. ‘Then you must return to the Golden Palace.’

  ‘I don’t need to see a doctor. I’m perfectly fine. During the last week since I’ve seen you the nausea has started to ease, just as Ms Siddiqui said it probably would.’

  ‘You have been riding all day in the desert heat, how can you possibly be fine?’ His voice rose to match the fury she could see he was having great difficulty containing. But rather than be cowed by his temper, she felt strangely empowered by it. ‘You should not have come here,’ he added. ‘Why did you risk everything?’

  Kasia drew a ragged breath at the raw tone, the deep anguish in his words.

  She’d travelled thousands of miles to have this confrontation. But this was not at all what she had expected. She had assumed Raif would be cold towards her, unemotional, dismissive. She had been prepared for the worst, that he would tell her he didn’t love her, could never love her and then he would discard her—as her mother once had.

  But he wasn’t cold, or unemotional. His dark eyes flashed with more tha
n temper.

  It was something she had never seen in his eyes before, something she had not believed he was even capable of feeling. After all, he was so strong, so indomitable, so commanding, what could he have to fear?

  The heat in her core flared and sparked as she took in his broad chest, the dark pants hanging loosely on his hips. He looked once again like the man she had first met, the Desert Prince, but now she knew that while this man could be wild and untamed, primitive in the best sense of the word, beneath that tough outer shell was a man who had cares and needs just as she did—who could be tender and gentle and kind.

  Gathering the courage she had worked so hard to nurture all her life, she forced herself to tell him the truth she should have told him weeks ago.

  ‘I came because I am your wife and I love you. And I want this to be a real marriage. If we are to be a couple, I want to share every part of your life with you, which includes living with you here in the desert, as well as living with you in Cambridge or New York or London, or anywhere else we need to be.’

  He stepped back, the shock on his face as raw as the emotion. ‘No, you cannot love me. I am not...’ His voice drifted into silence.

  She touched his arm. ‘You’re not what, Raif?’ she said gently.

  He gripped her arms and dragged her into his embrace, burying his face in her hair, his shallow breaths tortured as a shudder ran through his body.

  ‘I am not a good man,’ he said.

  Emotion seized her own throat as she grasped his cheeks, forced his gaze to meet hers. ‘What do you mean, Raif? Of course you are.’

  ‘No, you do not understand,’ he said, touching her cheek. ‘I killed her and now I will kill you, too.’

  Her? Who was he talking about? But as he continued, his voice breaking, suddenly she knew. He was talking about the mother he’d lost, the mother he’d never known, the mother he’d tried to honour by insisting on marriage all those months ago.

  ‘I didn’t pull out, I made you take my seed,’ he said. ‘When you were untouched. And now you are bearing two babies. Two babies that are too big for you.’

  Her heart shattered in her chest. The tears eased over her lids at the pain in his voice. The raw, unguarded fear. She had thought this man couldn’t love her, couldn’t love their children, when he already loved them—maybe too much.

  ‘I don’t want to lose you,’ he said, his voice weary as she noticed the dark shadows under his eyes. How much had he slept in the last week? How could she not have seen how tormented he was? ‘If you truly love me, you must go back and stay safe.’

  ‘Shhh...’ she whispered, the tears falling freely now as he clung to her. She stroked his cheeks, felt the delicious rub of stubble against her palms. And pressed her lips to his. ‘It’s okay, Raif. Look at me,’ she commanded, and his tired gaze finally met hers. ‘I’m not going to die. I promise. I’m strong and healthy. You have doctors here and midwives and there is a clinic only a day’s ride away. Women have babies safely here all the time, even twins.’

  ‘But they are Kholadi women,’ he said. ‘They are accustomed to the desert life.’

  She smiled, impossibly touched by his stupidity.

  ‘But I’m a Kholadi woman now, too.’

  This wasn’t about the desert culture, though, not really. Or her ability to handle the nomadic lifestyle that was so much a part of who he was. He knew that to be the Kholadi Princess she would have to embrace that lifestyle, too.

  No, his fear for her life, was much more personal than that.

  What he really feared was his own feelings, the way she had feared hers. She understood that now, even if he did not. Of course this was harder for him to navigate because she doubted whether he had ever cared for anyone the way he cared for her.

  So she would have to show him how.

  She took his hand and pressed his palm to the bump beneath her robe. She couldn’t feel the babies moving yet, but the bump had become quite pronounced already.

  ‘Do you feel that, Raif? Our babies grow inside me and I will keep them safe always. And love them the way I love you. Love is a gift and, yes, it’s terrifying at times because you mean so much to me now that I couldn’t bear to lose you either. But the only way we can navigate that fear is to do it together.’

  He stared at her belly, his large palm resting on her bump. When his gaze finally lifted to hers she could read every emotion in it. Fear, still, and heat, but most of all love. Raw and basic and untamed. And all the more powerful for it.

  ‘I didn’t want to lose you,’ he said. ‘I wanted to keep you safe.’

  ‘I am safe,’ she said, with complete certainty. ‘As long as I am with you.’

  At last he nodded, then he dropped to his knees in front of her. Bracketing her hips with his hands, he held her tight and pressed his cheek to her belly. Worshipping her in a way she had never expected any man to worship her.

  She threaded her fingers through the short hair on his scalp, felt his shiver of reaction and the leap of desire arrowed down to her core.

  He lifted his head at last, to peer up at her. ‘You refuse to go back?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, Raif. I refuse to go back.’

  Nodding, he got to his feet then lifted her into his arms and carried her towards the lavish bed at the back of the tent. ‘Then I suppose I will have to make good use of you,’ he said. And for the first time in what felt like for ever she laughed.

  He made slow, careful love to her—too slow, too careful—as night fell over the desert, but as she reached one climax and then another and another, she felt herself soar into the stars, and knew that, however high she flew, her Desert Prince would never let her fall.

  EPILOGUE

  Nine months later

  ‘CAN I HOLD one of the babies, too?’

  Raif detached his gaze from his oldest daughter’s wide dark eyes as she stared at him with complete and completely terrifying trust to find Zane’s young son William tugging on his trouser leg. The toddler’s eager expression had a shudder running through Raif.

  No way, buddy.

  ‘Perhaps when you are older,’ he murmured, cradling his tiny baby a little tighter against his chest and rocking her gently.

  The boy frowned. ‘Why not now?’ he demanded with the uncomplicated logic of a child. ‘Auntie Kasia let Kaliah hold one, why can’t I?’

  ‘Because Jazmin and Amal are very precious to me. And I would not want you to drop them,’ Raif replied bluntly, admiring the boy’s audacity if nothing else. And deciding he would have to have another word with his wife. Seriously, was it safe to let a six-year-old with the temperament of a lion hold their daughters?

  ‘But that’s not fair!’ His nephew pouted.

  ‘I know,’ Raif said, unable to hold in a rough chuckle as the boy stomped out of the ornate chamber they had been given for their stay in the Golden Palace, no doubt to tell tales to his father in the suite next door.

  Good luck with that, buddy.

  Zane would be on his side, because he was as protective of his children as Raif was of his. In truth, they had been having many surprisingly reassuring conversations in the months since the girls had been born—every time Raif freaked out over a bout of colic, or a sleepless night, like last night, when Jazmin had resolutely refused to settle. Every time Raif convinced himself he had to be the worst father in existence, Zane had been the one to reassure him.

  ‘Cut yourself some slack, Raif. And wait till they’re six and want to ride a horse faster than you do before you freak out too much.’

  Raif let out another rough chuckle at the memory of that conversation. How times had changed in the space of a few months.

  Strange to think he had found a friend as well as a brother while staying in the Golden Palace—waiting for his wife to recover from the excruciating twenty-two-hour labour that had brought his children into
the world.

  The terror of seeing his wife in such pain, and the responsibilities of parenthood had turned his old rivalry with his brother into something supportive and strong...rooted in the shared trauma of new fatherhood, no doubt.

  It had been a steep learning curve.

  Pressing his lips to Jazmin’s downy soft skin, he inhaled the sweet scent, elated to see her eyes had finally closed. His heart expanded with love—and pride—as he returned his daughter to the adjoining bedroom.

  His heart ricocheted into his throat as he spotted Kasia in the armchair beside their bed, nursing their younger daughter, Amal, at her breast, the bright morning sunshine gilding her skin.

  She glanced up and smiled and his heart expanded another inch, all but gagging him.

  God, how he loved this woman. Her smile, her sweetness, her support, her intelligence and her love.

  He placed Jazmin in her crib as if she were the most precious thing in the world. Because she was. She and her sister and her mother. If anything ever happened to any one of them, he would go out of his mind with—

  He cut the thought off.

  Do not go there or it will drive you insane.

  He patted Jazmin’s tiny back until she stopped struggling against her exhaustion and settled into a deeper sleep.

  ‘Well done, Papa,’ Kasia murmured around a jaw-breaking yawn. ‘You finally got her to sleep.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said with a confidence he didn’t feel, but was determined to fake as he straightened and walked towards his wife. ‘One down, one to go.’

  Kasia smiled a sleepy smile, her wild hair rioting around her head, the amber eyes, which he hoped both of their daughters would inherit glimmering with amusement. ‘Actually, I think Amal has gone, too,’ she said, glancing at the baby fast asleep on her breast. ‘So that’s one for Mum, too.’

  Slipping one finger under their younger daughter’s lips, Kasia detached the small cupid’s-bow mouth from her nipple.

  The familiar jolt of arousal shuddered through Raif at the sight of his wife’s exposed breast.