The Desert Rogues Part 1

by Susan Mallery

  He slapped his hands down on the table. “Did it ever occur to you that it might not be smart for us to have an ongoing physical relationship? That it might complicate things?”

  At least he hadn’t said he didn’t want her. “We’re both grown-ups.” She took a breath for courage. “It’s not like we don’t want each other.”

  He stiffened. She could see him waging a battle, but wasn’t sure what it was about. They’d already been lovers once, the damage had been done there. She loved him, she knew they didn’t have much time together. So why not take advantage of every second they did have?

  “You make me crazy,” he told her as he rose and held out his hand. She put her fingers in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

  “What about the recovery time?” she asked.

  He laughed and pulled her close. “It’s not going to slow us down at all,” he promised. “Come on. I’ll prove it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Zara shifted her position in her chair, tucking her feet under her. It was relatively early on the island, but midevening in Spokane.

  “I miss you,” Zara told Cleo as she held the phone to her ear. “Can’t I convince you to come back?”

  “I would think you’re too busy to miss me,” her sister told her. “Or is being a princess getting boring already?”

  Zara tried to smile. “It’s not that. I’m just so confused about everything and you always know what to do.”

  “Yet people think you’re the smart one.”

  Cleo’s voice was teasing, but Zara thought she heard an edge to her words.

  “Are you all right?” Zara asked. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that.” Cleo hesitated. “I just didn’t belong there, Zara. You know that. The way I grew up, what I do for a living—I’m the last person who fits in royal circles.”

  “But you and the princes got along. Especially Prince Sadik.”

  “Yeah, well, that was just circumstance.”

  Zara wondered what had happened between them, but she wasn’t going to pry. Sometimes Cleo was comfortable talking about her personal life and sometimes she held back.

  “Besides,” Cleo continued, “you’re the one who called me, so you’re the one with the problem. You can’t be serious about turning your back on the king. He’s your father. You owe it to both of you to start a relationship. He’s family, Zara. With Fiona gone, he’s all that you have left.”

  “I have you.”

  “That’s different.”

  Zara had been considering her situation ever since Rafe had brought it up nearly a week before. She’d been turning his words over and over in her mind. Now with Cleo saying everything she’d been thinking, she knew she didn’t really have a choice.

  “I just don’t want to be here without you.”

  Cleo laughed. “Like you’d notice I was there, what with you and your bodyguard going all hot and heavy. Speaking of which, where is your handsome sheik?”

  “Reading on the patio.” Zara smiled. “Rafe is so amazing. I can’t believe he wants me, but he does. Several times a day. I really like him, Cleo.”

  “I’d say it’s more than like.”

  Figures Cleo would see the truth. “It is. I love him. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

  “But you don’t know how to break through his barriers.”

  “Exactly. Any brilliant ideas?”

  Cleo paused. “From what you’ve told me, I’m going to guess that Rafe has a problem trusting people to care about him. Maybe no one has. Not since his parents died. So why would he believe you?”

  Cleo’s thoughts weren’t news, but Zara had been hoping for something more promising. “So how do I convince him I’m in this for the long haul?”

  “You’re going to have to prove yourself.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. But I think that’s what it’s going to take.”

  “Should I throw myself in front of him and beg him to marry me?”

  Cleo winced. “That wouldn’t be my first choice. I suspect any kind of romantic declaration would make him uneasy.”

  “I agree.” Which was why she’d never even whispered her feelings. Keeping that to herself had been hard. Every time they made love, she wanted to tell him how she felt. Each evening as they dined together, she wanted to speak about her hopes and dreams and hear him respond in kind. Talk about a fantasy.

  “There’s a good chance this isn’t going to end well,” Cleo said. “How are you going to deal with that?”

  “He’ll break my heart,” Zara said, knowing it was inevitable. “I love him. I believe I’ve been waiting for him all my life. I can’t imagine a world without him.”

  “You’ve got it bad.”

  “I know. But I’d rather have it bad for him than have it so-what with anyone else.”

  “That’s insane,” her sister told her, but Zara heard the love in her voice. “Call me in a couple of days and let me know what’s going on.”

  “I will, I promise. Wish me luck.”

  “Honey, you’re going to need a whole lot more than that. You’re going to need a miracle.”

  Rafe knew he was playing with fire. He could read the truth in Zara’s eyes. So far she hadn’t declared herself, but it was just a matter of time until she did. And then what?

  What was he supposed to say? That he didn’t believe her? That he didn’t do happily ever after? He’d trapped himself in a living hell. He couldn’t have her because he would never allow himself to love her, but he also couldn’t let her go. Knowing that she was with someone else would destroy him.

  All the tactical training in the world hadn’t prepared him for this situation. He’d known the risk to her when he’d taken her into his bed, and he’d done it, anyway. What he hadn’t counted on was the risk to himself.

  Zara kissed Rafe’s mouth. Her body still hummed from the pleasure he’d brought her. She ran her foot up and down his bare leg, smiling at the feel of him.

  “You’re getting good at this,” she teased.

  He shifted her onto her back and bent over her. “You think? I could say the same about you, but you were good from the start.”

  She giggled. “I know. You left out patient. How patient I was with your fumbling.”

  “Very patient,” he murmured before leaning down and licking her right nipple. “Incredibly patient. I should reward you.”

  Despite the fact that they’d finished making love less than five minutes before, Zara felt her body stir. Just being close to Rafe was enough to get her all hot and bothered.

  It was a perfect afternoon, she thought lazily. The overhead fan stirred the warm air. The big bed was comfortable, the sheets cool and the man beside her, touching her, was all she’d ever longed for.

  I love you.

  She thought the words, breathed them in her sigh, but did not dare speak them. Because she was afraid.

  But fear had no place in their bed, so she concentrated on what he was doing to her body and thoughts of equally delicious ways she could pleasure him. Maybe, if she shimmied out of his embrace, she could slip down and take him in her mouth. He always melted when she did that…well, except for the part of him that stayed extremely rigid and got even harder. Or she could—

  An odd sound cut through the quiet afternoon. Rafe raised his head, then swore. Zara strained to make sense of the growing noise.

  “Helicopter,” Rafe told her as he slid out of bed and reached for his clothes. “Probably Hassan.”

  It took a couple of seconds for her to assimilate his words. Hassan? She sat up straight. “My father?”

  “I guess he got tired of waiting.”

  The sound was now loud enough for her to recognize it for a helicopter. The change in pitch told her that it was about to land on the pad only a few dozen feet from the house. Then her father would climb out and walk this way and—

  “I’m naked!”
she shrieked, jumping out of bed.

  She lunged for her clothes on the floor, rapidly pulling on her panties. After searching frantically for her bra she remembered she’d stopped wearing one a few days before. For one thing, she didn’t need it. For another, Rafe often came up behind her, slipped his hands under her shirt and cupped her breasts. She preferred that contact when her skin was bare.

  “Don’t think about it,” she told herself as she pulled a cotton sundress over her head, then raced to the bathroom to study her appearance.

  She looked like a woman who had been well loved. There was no way to hide the color in her face or the contentment in her eyes. Hassan was going to guess the truth.

  She hurried back into the bedroom. Rafe had already left. She followed him into the main room and grabbed his arm. “You were kidding about what you said when you first arrived, weren’t you? The part about getting your head cut off?”

  “He’s not going to be happy.”

  Zara didn’t find his words especially reassuring, but before she could question him further, King Hassan stalked into the room, followed by two very tall, very large guards. Behind them were the king’s secretary, Sabrina and her husband, Prince Kardal. Zara’s stomach dove for the floor.

  Hassan stared at them both. Zara wanted to move closer to Rafe and slip her hand into his but she suspected that would not help the situation. There was also the fact that she didn’t know how he would react to the declaration, however small. To complicate things, she’d never faced a disapproving father before and wasn’t sure how to act.

  “My daughter,” Hassan said, walking over and kissing her cheek. “The palace has been a dark place without your beauty to brighten my day.”

  “Hi.” She bit her lower lip. “Thank you for understanding that I’ve needed this time to adjust to all the changes.” She suddenly felt really young and terribly guilty, which was strange. After all, she was twenty-eight years old.

  Hassan studied her for a few more seconds, then turned his attention to Rafe.

  “You will be banished,” he said, speaking nearly conversationally, so that Zara didn’t catch what he said at first. “At first I thought to have you killed, but Kardal talked me out of it.” He glared at his son-in-law. “Apparently, I’m known for having irresistible daughters.”

  “What?” Zara asked. She glanced at Sabrina who mouthed she would explain it all later. Zara didn’t want to wait for an explanation. “What do you mean, banished?” She was going to ignore the “killed” part because she couldn’t stand to think about it.

  Hassan glared at her. It was the first time he’d ever looked at her with anything but love and devotion. “You have done enough here. I trusted you both and this is how I am repaid. You are new to our ways, so I forgive you, but Rafe has been made one with the desert. He knew what he was doing. He is to be banished for all time. He will not be allowed to set foot in the kingdom of Bahania or the City of Thieves. For the rest of his life he will never see you again, and you will not see him.”

  Zara turned to Rafe. Not see him? Not ever? She’d resigned herself to being unhappy, to watching him from afar, to dreaming about what might have been, but she’d never thought he would be out of her life forever.

  His gaze locked with hers. In that single heartbeat she read a similar anguish in his blue eyes. A need and something more—something wonderful that gave her courage. He cared. She didn’t know how much or for how long, but he cared.

  “I will not be banished,” he said unexpectedly.

  He faced the king and pulled back the sleeve of his shirt. She stared at the small tattoo there—the seal of the City of Thieves.

  Hassan turned away, Kardal swore, Sabrina gasped. Only the guards didn’t react, and Zara had a feeling they were as clueless as she was.

  “I carry the mark of the prince,” Rafe continued. “At the time I was rewarded and made a sheik, I was offered a woman. I claimed none. I claim one now—Princess Zara.”

  He’d never used the title before and it startled her, as did Hassan’s sudden expression of rage.

  “You will not!” the king roared.

  Kardal shifted uncomfortably. “Must it be this woman?”

  “Yes,” Rafe said, still glaring at the king.

  Zara felt lightheaded. Rafe was claiming her as his woman? Did that mean he cared about her? Her heart flew back into her chest and began to tap dance. Hope filled her.

  Hassan turned his attention to Kardal. “This is your fault. You allowed him to claim the mark of the prince.”

  Kardal shrugged. “He saved my life. I wished to thank him. May I remind you that you are the one who left them alone on an island for two weeks. Obviously, you are no better a father to Zara than you were to Sabrina.”

  The king’s face darkened. Sabrina stepped between them. “Fighting with each other doesn’t solve the problem.”

  Zara pressed her lips together. “At the risk of being stupid, what is the problem?”

  “Yes, explain it to her,” Hassan said harshly. “Maybe then she won’t look at this one with so many stars in her eyes.”

  Sabrina sighed. “Zara, when Rafe saved Kardal’s life, he was allowed to wear the mark of the prince. It’s a great honor.”

  “I know about this,” Zara said impatiently, wanting to get to the “I claim her as my woman” part. “He was made a sheik, given a fortune, along with land and camels.”

  Her half sister patted her arm. “Exactly. Tradition states that the one who wears the mark of the prince is also allowed a woman. He may take any unmarried woman he likes. Any unmarried woman—even the daughter of a king.”

  Zara was beginning to see the problem. “As what?” she asked Sabrina, although she was looking at Rafe. He continued to glare at Hassan.

  “As whatever he wants her to be,” Sabrina said softly.

  “You see?” Hassan asked. “He is not proposing marriage. He is insulting you, Bahania and even the Prince of Thieves.”

  Zara took a step toward Rafe. She wasn’t so sure insult was his motivation. Maybe it was something else entirely.

  “Can you stop him?” she asked her father.

  Hassan hesitated. “I am the king. I can do as I like.”

  “No,” Rafe said, turning to her. “He can’t. Not without defiling the laws of the desert. He is torn between his relationship with Kardal, his responsibility to the laws of the land and his desire to kill me with his bare hands.” He shrugged. “You’re the one who was willing to risk having your sex life in the tabloids. I told you we couldn’t keep it a secret.”

  “My mistake.” She studied his handsome face, the mouth that had pleased her in so many ways, the eyes that allowed her to stare down into the lonely darkness that was his soul.

  “What do you want, Rafe?” she asked. “Is your purpose here really just to tweak the tiger’s tail?”

  “No.”

  “Then you really want to claim me as your woman?”

  “It cannot be!” Hassan roared. “She is Princess Zara of Bahania. My daughter, a member of the royal family. You insult us all with your thoughtless words and deeds. You were trusted and you turned your back on that trust. You have betrayed us all, especially Zara.”

  Except Zara didn’t feel all that betrayed. She was a little embarrassed to be discussing this in front of everyone and confused as to why Rafe had claimed her, but she didn’t feel that he’d let her down. Thank goodness no one knew she had been a virgin. It would all hit the fan then.

  “What if I accept?” she asked.

  Everyone stared at her. Even Sabrina looked shocked.

  “You can’t,” her half sister said hastily. “You would have no status, no claim. You wouldn’t be his wife, Zara. You would be his mistress. As a member of the royal family, you would be dishonored. He could keep you as long as he wanted, then toss you aside with no repercussions. It would be difficult for you to make a good match after that.”

  Zara thought about Byron and Jean-Paul. It might be diff
icult to make a good match, but there would be many men willing to marry her.

  “I will not allow it,” Hassan said.

  “It’s not your decision to make,” Zara told him.

  “He will take you away.” Hassan stepped forward and touched her cheek. “My daughter, you would be away from your family. You would have nothing. I could not protect you while you were with him.”

  The light-headed sensation returned. Zara felt as if she were floating above the tableau, watching everyone. Thousands of thoughts swirled through her mind until one of them solidified into a moment of crystal clarity.

  She raised herself on her toes and kissed her father’s cheek. “I am happy to have found you and I think I could have made peace with my life in Bahania, but this is something I must do.”

  She turned and moved in front of Rafe. “I accept the honor of being your woman.”

  Even the guards stiffened in surprise. Rafe, however, simply glared at her. “You can’t,” he told her. “You’re a royal princess. You should be married.”

  “But that’s not what you’re offering,” she told him.

  His glare deepened. “You don’t know what you’re getting into. I won’t stay in one place long. I’ll drag you around the world, living in hell holes. You’ll have to give up your family. What about your heart’s desire to have roots?”

  And then she knew. She read it in the pain in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders. After a lifetime of people turning away from him, he wasn’t about to trust her with something as fragile as his heart. Not before he knew that she would be willing to stay forever. He needed to test her—and as Cleo had suggested, she, Zara, needed to prove herself.

  She didn’t know how long it would take. How many months or even years she would have to stand by him until he knew that her love was endless and faithful.

  “You’re asking me to choose,” she whispered. “All my life I’ve wanted roots—a real family with a history. A father. I have them all now. But I believe love can transcend location. They are my family and will always have a place inside of me. You are my heart’s desire. Therefore I will follow you to the ends of the earth if that is your wish. Again, I accept the honor of being your woman.”