“Thank you,” she said softly. “It’s very beautiful.”
“You are a woman who deserves beautiful things.”
That compliment nearly made her stumble, but she managed to stay upright. Fake it until you believe it, she told herself. Even if the faking lasted right up until the moment she walked into her apartment back in Dallas.
She wanted to ask what made her deserving of beautiful things and if he meant it when he looked at her with fire in his eyes. Did he feel the sparks between them? Did the heat draw him? Had he relived their kisses, as she had, longing for more, for every intimacy?
Rather than risk a potentially embarrassing line of conversation, she went for something safer.
“Did you attend school locally?” she asked.
“No. Just the tutor, then to a British prep school, then an American university.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back and urged her down another crowded aisle. Several people bowed and smiled when they saw him. From what she could tell, Reyhan was very popular with his people. Probably a good thing when one was a prince.
“My father thought it was important for his sons to have a diverse education and contact with the West. Much of our business is conducted with American and European interests. Familiarity with mindsets and customs helps the process.”
She thought of her own small life. Aside from now, and except for their brief honeymoon in the Caribbean, she’d never been out of the state.
“I would imagine both Britain and America were different for you,” she said.
“I knew some of your ways from watching movies. I’d been raised speaking English as well as Bahanian, so I was comfortable with the language. But there were still lessons to be learned.”
She stopped and touched his arm. “Like what?”
He glanced at her. “When I first arrived at my university, I told a few people who I was. Word quickly spread and my time there became…difficult.”
“Everyone wanting to rub shoulders with a real, live prince?” she asked sympathetically.
“Something like that. Some young women were enthusiastic in their effort to get to know me.”
She could imagine. “You would have been something of a catch.”
One corner of his mouth curved up. “So I was told. When I went to Texas, I decided not to tell anyone who I was. A few recognized me from various articles in magazines and reports on television, but for the most part I was able to simply be myself.”
“I had no clue,” she said, more than a little embarrassed by the fact. “I guess I should have paid more attention to current events.”
He started walking again and drew her along with him. “Not at all. Your interest in me was about who I was as a person, not who I was as a prince.”
“The whole royalty thing would have overwhelmed me,” she admitted. “Actually, I would have run in the opposite direction.”
“And I would have chased after you.”
“Really?”
She glanced at him, wondering if he was teasing or telling the truth. Would Reyhan have pursued her? She wanted to believe he had been that interested, but was it really possible? She’d just been a very shy, inexperienced eighteen-year-old. Hardly the sort of woman to catch the interest of a sophisticated man of the world.
He took her hand in his and squeezed lightly. “You wanted to be a nurse. I know you graduated with honors, but I’m not that familiar with your work. Tell me what you do.”
It was difficult to concentrate with his fingers rubbing against hers. When his thumb brushed against her palm, she nearly moaned. Wanting burned low in her belly, making her ache and need.
So many physical reactions, she thought. Why was her body coming alive now? With him?
Better not to ask, she told herself and focused on Reyhan’s question.
“I’m a delivery room nurse,” she said.
His expression tightened with surprise. “You assist with births?”
“Pretty much.” She smiled. “It’s so wonderful to spend my day helping babies being born. It’s a time of joy and happiness for everyone involved.”
“I suppose that is more fitting than you dealing with men.”
“That’s not why I chose my specialty. I went into it because I love children and babies and I thought it would be very gratifying. I was right.”
“My sister-in-law recently had a baby. My sisters Zara and Sabrina are also pregnant.”
“I’d heard. Cleo told me.”
As she spoke, she raised her face toward his. Sunlight turned strands of her hair to the color of copper. Humor brightened her eyes and made her skin glow as if lit from within.
Beautiful, Reyhan thought desperately. She had always been beautiful.
Not that her being ugly would have helped, for if he closed his eyes when he was with her, he still wanted her. The sound of her voice was as musical as the rush of the tide. The scent of her body teased and enticed him. Her gentle spirit called to him, as did her intelligence and humor. Blind, deaf and mute, he would have burned for the lightest brush of her touch.
His need for her grew every second he was in her presence. Soon it would be as uncontrollable as a wild animal, and like that animal, he was in danger of devouring her. He had to get away from her but not just yet. One more day, he told himself. Then he would retreat to nurse his wounds and wait out her remaining time in his company.
“What will you do when you return to Dallas?” he asked.
“What do you mean? I’ll go back to work.”
Amusement tempered his growing desire. “Because you have bills to pay?”
She laughed. “Yes. All the usual things like rent and utilities, plus my student loans.”
She was still so innocent.
“I am Prince Reyhan of Bahania.”
She blinked at him. “Actually, I know that.”
“You are my wife.”
She shook her head. “I suppose technically, although not really.”
“Legally you are.”
“Okay. I guess. But you want a divorce.”
“And after the divorce, do you think you’ll leave with nothing?”
Emma’s green eyes widened in surprised. “I don’t want anything. I’m not your responsibility, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
How like her, he thought. Other women of his acquaintance would be trying to squeeze out every dollar they could.
“I will provide for you,” he told her. “Arrangements will be made for you to purchase a house, then I will set up a checking account as I did before.”
“You really don’t have to do this.”
“I know.”
“But we were only together for a few days.”
It should have been for a lifetime.
The thought came unbidden. Reyhan did his best to chase it away, but it stayed in place. Stubborn, real and tempting. So much would have been different if he’d simply insisted on her returning with him. When his aunt had died, he’d left Emma behind, to spare her the trauma of finding out who and what he was. He didn’t want to thrust her into royal life without some time to get used to the idea, nor did he want her meeting his family at a funeral. But by leaving her behind, he’d lost her.
How would their lives have been different if he’d brought her home right away? She would be a mother by now. His wife in every sense of the word. How would she have handled the responsibilities, the traditions? Would she have grown into them or chafed at the restrictions?
He would never know—about any of it. She could not be his wife; he had chosen a different path. But perhaps they could pretend for a single day.
“All the women I’ve ever met love to shop,” he said. “Are you different in that, as well?”
She smiled. “I don’t mind spending an afternoon or two at the mall. Are you trying to tempt me into accepting your more-than-generous offer of a settlement?”
“Not at all. The money will be provided. You don’t h
ave a choice in the matter.”
She shook her head. “You’re pretty high-handed.”
“Yes.”
She laughed. “That’s it. Just a yes? Aren’t you going to protest?”
“I get what I want one way or another.”
“Must be nice.”
“It is.”
Except when he wouldn’t allow himself what he wanted.
“This way,” he said, taking her arm and leading her through the marketplace. The bodyguards trailed along behind.
Emma knew there was no point in protesting or asking where they were going. Reyhan would tell her when he was ready. Besides, she was enjoying her time with him to the point that it didn’t much matter to her what came next.
She glanced down at the bangle on her wrist. Something to remember him by, she thought fondly. Not gold and expensive jewels, which weren’t her style. Just a simple, silver bracelet.
They turned a corner onto a main street, then stopped in front of a plain storefront. She glanced at the sign that read Aimee’s before Reyhan moved inside.
The cool interior was a contrast to the warmth of the afternoon. Emma took in the cream-on-white decorations, the elegant displays of clothing and shoes and instantly felt frumpy in her outlet-sale clothing.
A tall, painfully thin woman approached. “Yes, may I—” The woman touched her perfectly coiffed hair, then smiled. “Prince Reyhan. A pleasure. How may I serve you?”
“This is Emma,” he said. “My wife.”
The woman’s dark eyes widened as she nodded graciously. “Princess. I am Aimee. Welcome to my shop.”
Emma offered a smile even as she wondered what Reyhan was doing. It was one thing to tell people they were married in the palace, but why would he do it in public? No one had known they were married and they were going to be divorced very soon. Why bother with the hassle of explaining?
“She needs a complete wardrobe,” he continued.
Emma turned to him. “What?”
“Indulge me.”
“But…” Aware of the older woman’s obvious interest in what was going on, Emma lowered her voice and leaned in close. “I don’t need a new wardrobe. Mine is fine. I’m not saying her clothes aren’t lovely, but they’ve got to be really pricey and they don’t fit into my regular world.”
“You’re not in your regular world now, Emma. You’re in mine. You’re also a beautiful woman who deserves beautiful things. It pleases me to buy these for you.”
Protesting too much seemed both ungracious and stupid. Instead she nodded. “Thank you for your kindness.”
How bad could it be? she thought as she followed the well-dressed store owner into the dressing room area. A couple of dresses, maybe a pair of jeans or two and she would be done. Reyhan didn’t strike her as the kind of man who would enjoy waiting while a woman tried on clothing.
Or was he?
Two hours later Emma was less sure about everything. Reyhan had been remarkably patient as she’d been dressed in everything from simple sundresses to suits to elegant evening wear. Whenever something looked especially nice on her, Aimee urged her to step out into the main salon for him to see. Much to her chagrin, he’d been the one to make the decisions on what to buy and what not to.
“These are supposed to be my clothes,” she said as he shook his head over a dark pants suit she quite liked.
“Too severe,” he told her. “The cut is too loose.”
“I can’t spend my day flashing cleavage at the world.”
“No. That you save for me.”
Instinctively she pressed a hand against the vee neck of the suit. Was he talking as the powerful husband and prince or as man? Were they different? She stared at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking and what he wanted from her. The strong, handsome lines of his face gave away nothing.
But his words had made her aware of him again. While she’d been busy trying on outfit after outfit she’d been able to forget the tension lurking just under the surface. She’d managed to forget how much she liked being close to him and how he’d made her feel when he’d kissed her. Now she remembered everything.
“This will be fabulous,” Aimee said when Emma returned to the dressing room. The older woman held out a strapless beaded gown in bronze. “The color will bring out the fire in your hair. Perhaps the prince will buy you a necklace of yellow diamonds to complete the look.”
Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. Emma didn’t think that soon-to-be divorced wives rated rare gemstones. Of course she hadn’t thought they rated new wardrobes, either.
After stripping off the pants suit, she studied the dress. No way was she going to be able to keep on her bra. Aimee stepped outside to give her privacy, so Emma continued undressing until she stood in just her panties, then she stepped into the elegant gown.
It fit her perfectly, sliding over her hips as if it had been made for her. Aimee returned with a pair of strappy sandals and some combs to hold back Emma’s hair.
“Excellent,” the woman said approvingly. “You look exactly like the princess you are.”
Emma glanced in the mirror, then did a double take. She did look royal, or at least elegant in a way she never had before.
“I guess clothes really do make the woman,” she murmured as she walked out into the salon.
Reyhan looked up from a newspaper, then rose to his feet and nodded. “Yes. That is exactly right. You are stunning.”
“Thank you. The dress is amazing and I know it fits great, but there’s no way I’m going to keep it.”
“Why not?”
“Reyhan, where will I ever wear it? I really appreciate your interest in my wardrobe, but be serious. This isn’t me.”
He dropped the paper onto the small table by his chair and walked toward her. When he was less than a foot away, he stopped and looked into her face.
She met his gaze and felt the impact of his intense stare. Heat grew until she felt uncomfortable in the strapless gown. She wanted to tug down the hidden zipper and let the dress pool at her feet. She wanted to be naked before him. Naked and vulnerable and slick with wanting. Need made her ache deep inside. Her thighs trembled.
“It pleases me to buy you these things,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Why do you object?”
Why, indeed. At this moment, she could deny him nothing. If only he would say that he wanted her. If only he would touch her. Anywhere. Her arms, her face, her breasts. She felt her tight nipples rub against the soft lining of the gown and wished the contact to be against Reyhan’s palms instead.
Take me.
She didn’t speak the words, but somehow he heard. Fire erupted in his eyes. His muscles tensed and his breathing quickened.
When his gaze shifted to the entrance to the dressing room, she knew what he was thinking. That they could be alone there. Right now. No waiting, no wondering if it was right. Just a man and woman taking pleasure in each other.
It was insane to even consider such a thing, but she wanted to. Desperately. They could—
The click of heels on the tile floor cut through the erotic silence. Before Emma could object, Aimee came out of the back room and Reyhan turned away. It was as if the moment had never been. Reluctantly she returned to the dressing room and took off the dress.
Later, when their limo was filled with boxes and bags from the boutique, and Reyhan sat so carefully at the opposite end of the long leather seat, she tried to figure out what was going on between them.
Six years ago, after their brief marriage ceremony, they’d retired to a hotel suite and spent three days together. Emma remembered the intimacy of making love with him. There had been little desire on her part. Mostly she’d felt embarrassment, fear and occasionally pain. The more Reyhan had wanted her, the more scared she’d become. When he’d been called back to Bahania, she’d been grateful.
Back then she’d simply endured his desires, whereas now she shared them. What was different? Her? Had she grown up to the place where she cou
ld meet Reyhan as an equal? Had he changed? Was it chemistry or timing? Was it a quirk of fate that she would find herself falling for a man who planned on divorcing her then have her disappear from his life forever?
Emma paced the length of her suite. She’d already unpacked her beautiful clothes and admired them while trying not to look at the price tags. Some of her evening gowns cost as much as a good used car. She had no idea where she would wear them, but that was really the least of her problems. Instead there was the pressing matter of Reyhan.
What was going on between them? Was acting on their mutual attraction a good thing or would it make her a nominee for idiot of the year? Should she say something to him? Ask him if he’d changed his mind about the divorce? Ask him if he just wanted her for sex? Ignore the whole thing and count the hours until she headed back for Dallas?
“If you were the least bit brave, you’d talk to him,” she murmured to herself. “Put it all out on the table and see what happens.”
A sensible plan.
She crossed to the phone, intent on calling him at his office, but before she could there was a knock on her suite door.
Reyhan? Her heart pounded at the thought. She replaced the phone and hurried to the door.
But instead of her handsome husband, a young maid stood in the hallway. The girl handed her a note, nodded and left. Emma closed the door, then unfolded the piece of paper. As she read, her chest tightened and her spirits sank.
Emma,
My thanks for a lovely day. Unfortunately, some minor trouble in the oil fields calls me away. By the time you read this I will have left by helicopter. I’m not sure of the date of my return, but I will make sure it is before you leave Bahania for good.
Disappointment swelled inside of her. He was gone and she might not see him again until it was time for her to go back to Dallas. Not exactly the actions of a man overwhelmed by passion. Had she misread him completely?
She hadn’t been very good at understanding Reyhan when they’d first met. Apparently time and distance hadn’t changed that fact.
“It’s for the best,” she whispered, crushing the note in her hands. “I’ll go home and this will all be forgotten. I’ll get on with my life. Find someone else and get married.”
Desert Rogues Part 2 Page 27