by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
And her father thought her hair style was daring. Nadia's mouth curved into a smile. "She sounds like an interesting person."
"Funny, she said the same thing about you, Princess."
She would not let herself feel pleased, Nadia vowed. Hadn't she learned her lesson yet? Gage's life had nothing to do with her. She would never meet Dani, nor did she need the young woman's approval. Or Gage's, for that matter. "I'm glad you enjoyed discussing me with her," she said stiffly, and made to move past Gage.
He stepped between two pillars, blocking her path. "I wasn't discussing you, so there's no need to take that regal tone of disapproval. I merely told her I'd met a fascinating member of the royal family, who happened to have painted one of my favorite paintings."
"What you do is your own affair. It isn't my place to approve or disapprove of your actions."
He gave a low growl of impatience. "Save that submissive stuff for Butrus Dabir, Princess. He may enjoy it, but I don't."
Unable to pass him without stumbling through the garden beds, she had little option but to stand her ground. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't you? I've seen you with Dabir. You can't tell me all that 'yes sir, no sir, three bags full, sir' is the real Nadia Kamal."
"I don't see—" she began.
"That it's any of my business?" he supplied, then rubbed his hand tiredly across his face as if the long festivities had taken their toll. Or was there another reason? She recalled that he had asked Dani to report to him with some information he needed. What about? Instinct warned her not to ask.
"You're right, I spoke out of turn. My apologies, Princess," he said in a curiously flat tone.
She couldn't resist. "Now who's being submissive?"
He straightened and she could almost hear his mind reject such a notion. "You think so?" he said with dangerous precision, and then moved closer, almost rearing over her.
Her mind reeled. Dear heaven, what had she invited? "I didn't mean..."
He ignored her halting attempt to apologize, continuing his relentless progress until her back met cold, unyielding marble. "What was that about submissive?"
Chapter 8
As her awareness sharpened to almost painful intensity, Nadia knew she had several choices. She could scream to summon one of the guards patrolling the boundaries of the estate, aim her knee where it would do the most damage or force her way past Gage and run to her quarters.
None of the choices was as compelling as letting him kiss her.
She had known it would come to this from the moment she first saw him slumped behind the wheel of his car on the road to Marhaba.
Her country's tradition held that people's fates were often written in the stars. Was Gage's kiss an example, or was she merely trying to excuse her own outrageous behavior by blaming fate?
She had little time to wonder as his mouth pressed against hers, warm, demanding and infinitely exciting.
The faint tang of sandalwood incense clung to his hair, and he tasted of the cardamom coffee he had recently drunk. His jaw felt rough against the smoothness of her cheek, the touch provoking her to match his ardor with her own.
Without conscious intention and with no idea where the instinct came from, she linked her hands around his neck, pulling his head down. She felt a slight resistance in the muscles of his neck, as if he questioned the wisdom of his actions, then he bent his head and deepened the kiss.
Her breath became shallow and she parted her lips to gain breath, but only succeeded in allowing Gage's teasing tongue entry to her mouth. She gasped as he made the most of the opportunity to explore, making her light-headed.
Or was it the heady touch of skin to skin, so rare in her experience, that made pleasure spiral through her, deliciously close to pain? She fought to silence the inner voice warning her that this was wrong and just clung to him, glorying in being held close and aroused so wantonly.
She had thought herself in love before, but Gordon had been no more experienced in such matters than she was. The blind leading the blind. Gage was far from blind, and where he was leading her didn't bear thinking about. She only knew that she was ready to follow him anywhere, if only this wonderful sensation could be allowed to continue.
It couldn't of course, and she should have been glad that Gage had the strength to end it for both their sakes. She felt a terrible sense of loss when he stepped back, swaying a little as if paying a price for his restraint.
"Dear heaven, Nadia," he said, his voice raspy. "I didn't mean to do that."
It was the first time he had used her name without adding her title, or calling her "Princess" in a mocking tone. Added to the intimacy they had just shared, she felt like a fishing vessel cast adrift by a storm tide and had to steady herself by resting a hand against one of the cool marble columns.
Afraid that she would sound as shaken as she felt, she pressed a finger to his lips. "If there is fault, it is mine, also."
He shaped his mouth around her finger, his tongue moistening the tip until her insides cramped in response. She tore her hand away, shocked that such a slight touch could have such a powerful effect on her. It went against all her common sense.
He dragged his fingers through his hair. "Maybe we are equally to blame. But it doesn't excuse me taking advantage like this."
She allowed herself a slight smile. "I didn't exactly—what would you English say?—put up a fight."
His shaky smile answered hers. "True. Why didn't you?"
"Why did you feel the need to kiss me?"
"Touche. We both did what we wanted. So where do we go from here?"
"To bed," she said simply, then blushed as she realized how he was bound to take that. "Our own beds," she amended. "We must never speak of this moment again."
The command was directed as much at herself as at Gage, and was accompanied by an aching sense of emptiness. She not only wanted to speak of it, but to dream of it and, God help her, to repeat it. But she could not and hope to live with herself. She was a princess with responsibilities and duties, engaged to be married. Her life allowed no room for such self-indulgence.
No room for passion. Or love.
With a cry of despair, she pushed past Gage and fled along the mosaic path to her quarters.
Long after he heard the door close behind her, Gage stood in the colonnade, anchoring himself to the marble pillar as he had seen her do. The cold stone was little comfort after the warmth of holding the princess in his arms. He could still feel her lips pressing against his and hear her gasp of response as he plundered her mouth.
She had acted as if his touch electrified her. With her limited experience, it probably had, although he could hardly take all the credit. He was pretty sure he was the first man to kiss her in such a flagrant fashion. In her society men and women rarely mixed, much less touched, unless they were husband and wife. She probably couldn't conceive of making love purely for pleasure.
Was he the loser for living in a more permissive society? he wondered. In his home country of Penwyck not so many years ago, a look or a touch had been considered as romantically daring as they were in Tamir today. Like so much of the world, his country's morality had moved with the times. Now anything went, and experiences had to become ever more intense to achieve the same level of piquancy.
He indulged himself in a sigh. He wouldn't want to lead a cloistered life, were it even possible. But he did envy Nadia her innocence. His roomy four-poster was going to seem cold and empty tonight, and he wondered if hers would feel the same.
The next morning brought no new information from Dani. As soon as he'd returned to his suite, Gage had e-mailed her photos of the new arrivals, which he'd snapped covertly during the banquet with a camera the size of his thumb, but so far Dani had no news for him regarding the identity of the subjects. She'd promised to keep digging.
He knew they had connections with the American underworld, as Dani had confirmed. What he needed now were clear links between Butrus Dabi
r and the Brothers of Darkness. All he'd gotten so far were more suspicions.
King Marcus wasn't going to be thrilled when Gage reported in. Well, that made two of them, Gage thought. His need to bring Conrad's killers to account burned like a flame inside him, driving him through this mission, although he wanted nothing more than to be gone from Tamir and its palace intrigues.
And its beautiful princess?
He'd lain awake for a long time pondering that one. After one bad experience, he'd resolved to remain coldly professional and keep his feelings out of his missions. He'd even managed to relegate his need to revenge Conrad's death to a part of his mind where it wouldn't affect his ability to function.
What was it about women in need that touched him so deeply? The last time he'd allowed a woman to reach him, he'd come to regret it. He hated to think he was in danger of doing it again.
Nadia was hardly in need. She had everything a woman could want. Except freedom. She was beautiful, talented, strong. Everything in him rebelled against seeing such a woman under the thumb of a man like Dabir. At least, that was the reason Gage gave himself for caring so much. His concern for Nadia had nothing to do with the way her jasmine scent haunted him and her taste lingered on his mouth, he assured himself.
At breakfast Butrus Dabir was the image of the genial host, inquiring repeatedly after Gage's health and how well he had slept after the lavish banquet. As was expected, Gage repeated his effusive compliments about the food and the presentation, although they risked sticking in his throat along with the honey pancakes he was served.
He didn't know if he was glad or sorry that Nadia preferred to eat breakfast in her quarters. Facing her across the table, not knowing which side she was on, was going to be hellishly difficult when his mind insisted on replaying the sensation of her lips on his and her arms tight around his neck.
He forced the image away and concentrated on what he had learned during the banquet. The group of newcomers he'd noticed the previous night who, he'd managed to learn, had arrived at the estate only the previous afternoon, were nowhere to be seen.
During the conversation he'd carefully orchestrated, his dinner companions hadn't been able to tell him anything about the group other than that the men were American. They were obviously close to Butrus Dabir, judging from the warm welcome they had received upon arrival. Since warm welcomes were a feature of Tamiri life, Gage didn't read too much into that.
He thought back to his conversation with Nadia. Gage hadn't lied to the princess about Dani's role in his life or her involvement with the rock band, but he had carefully omitted mentioning how good she was at tracking down information.
He didn't blame Dani for finding nothing. These people were experts at covering their tracks. Gage decided that his best hope was to keep his eyes and ears open when the newcomers joined Dabir's meetings and try to pick up on something more.
Easier said than done, he discovered as he washed his hands after the morning meal and prepared to join the others.
At the door to the conference chamber, Dabir placed a hand on his shoulder. "I have monopolized your time long enough, my friend. You have been most patient with our deliberations when I know that your main interest in Tamiri affairs is in trade."
Gage felt as if a loathsome spider had crawled onto his shoulder. He barely kept the reaction from showing on his face. "Not at all, old chap," he said, all British bonhomie. "When the new preamble to the constitution is unveiled, I shall feel I have played some infinitesimal part in its development. It is a singular honor to have the privilege of watching a master legal mind at work."
He tried to sidestep Dabir and enter the room, but the burly attorney managed to get in his way, looking smugly pleased, although he said, "You give me far too much credit. My role in our history is a mere footnote. You are the one who struts the world stage, dispensing diplomacy on behalf of your great country."
Gage nodded his thanks, wondering where all this was leading.
He soon found out.
"Only a short drive from Zabara is the Black Rock Souk. Located at the top of the famous Zabara cliffs, it is a beautiful and very active center of day-to-day trade."
Dabir wanted him to go shopping? Gage's skepticism must have shown on his face, because Dabir clapped him on the shoulder again. "There is no better place for a man of your interests to study Tamir trade at its grass roots. Trust me, my friend."
Knowing he wouldn't trust Dabir to count the small change in his pocket, Gage managed a stiff smile. "Sounds splendid. I'll make a point of visiting this souk right after the meeting."
"There's no need to trouble yourself further with our trifling affairs. Today we discuss matters of purely local interest. My dishonor would be great if, as my guest, you should be bored. I would be delighted to place a car and driver at your disposal, so you may avail yourself of a visit to the souk this morning."
In short, the talks were none of Gage's business, but it would be impolite to say so directly, much in the manner that a Tamiri would say he'd think about a deal in which he had no interest, rather than insult his guest by saying so v. In return, a good guest was expected to take the hint and not press the matter.
Gage decided to be a good guest for the moment. "Splendid idea. I'm sure I'll find the souk educational. But I'll take my own car, thanks."
His host frowned. "You must permit me to provide you with a car and driver. If you were to get lost or suffer any ill effects at all, I would never forgive myself."
"The responsibility is mine alone," Gage insisted, resisting the urge to clench his fists over the excess of politeness. He had no intention of accepting the offer of car and driver and thus placing himself so completely in Dabir's hands. Getting lost was far preferable to ending up dumped over a cliff with his throat cut.
After a few more effusive compliments and not-at-alls were exchanged, Gage was left alone, wondering what he was going to do now. Since trade was his cover story rather than his area of expertise, he felt disinclined to visit this souk, but didn't see how he was going to get out of it.
In the main courtyard two black Bentleys waited, their uniformed drivers energetically polishing imaginary specks off the showroom-bright surface. Gage saw Nadia approach the first car, surrounded by her chattering attendants and obviously bound for the same shopping expedition. Dressed in a buttercup-colored galabiya threaded with gold over matching wide-legged pants, with a wisp of white scarf fluttering around her shoulders, she looked as fresh as a spring day.
He felt his interest quicken. Maybe the day wouldn't be a total loss, after all. He strode up to the women and performed a polite salaam, greeting them in deliberately woeful Arabic.
The two younger ones, duplicates of one another, giggled and covered their faces with their hands. Nadia winced, but smiled politely and returned his greeting. Not by a blink of her lovely dark eyes did she show that Gage meant any more to her than any of her fiance's associates, two of whom were waiting with their wives, obviously intending to join the expedition.
If Gage hadn't caught the fluttering of a pulse at Nadia's throat, he might have convinced himself he'd imagined kissing her last night.
"I trust Your Highness will prevent this foreigner from making too many blunders at the souk today," he said, switching to English.
Nadia's face remained impassive. "Nargis is a capable bargainer. I depend on her utterly. You'll be delighted to assist Mr. Weston, won't you Nargis?"
Looking pleased, the attendant hovering beside the princess stepped forward and threw herself immediately into her assigned task. "The main thing to remember is not to buy anything at the first shop you enter. Go to several, drink the coffee you are offered and get a feel for the value of the item you are interested in, then return to the first place you visited and begin to bargain in earnest."
Gage let his look tell the princess that there was only one item of value to him here, and he wasn't going to find it at the souk. She looked away, pretending not to notice, althoug
h he was sure she had.
"Come, we must be on our way," she told her attendants. To Gage she said pointedly, "Your car has been brought around for you, and the rest of the party is ready to go."
Watching Gage move with obvious reluctance toward his car, Nadia released a breath of relief. For a moment she'd thought he might insist on traveling in their vehicle. It was bad enough to have him stand so close to her that she could smell the lingering traces of the attar he had shared with his host last night, the scent reminding her of how shamefully she had succumbed to the temptation of Gage's kiss.
After leaving him in the colonnade last night, she had slept little, and wondered if he had been as disturbed by their encounter as she was. He did remember it, she gathered from the volatile look he'd given her when he approached. But he hadn't had to endure the pangs of guilt that had plagued her. She deserved every one of them, she had told herself as she tossed and turned. She had wronged her fiance, anditwas only proper that she suffer for it.
Unfortunately most of her regrets were in her head and refused to reach her heart. There, she felt only a soul-deep yearning to know more of Gage's attention, to find herself once more in his arms, his hungry mouth claiming hers.
She looked up to find Nargis regarding her speculatively. Although her attendant said nothing, Nadia could almost hear the other woman's earlier accusation that Nadia was thinking about "this man who isn't Butrus, who makes your cheeks glow and your eyes shine." And Nargis would be right. The problem was, Nadia had no idea how to stop.
Chapter 9
Driving along the road to Black Rock Souk always made Nadia nervous. The bazaar, built on the ruins of an ancient trading center, was perched atop one of the highest cliffs in the region and could only be reached by a narrow road carved out of the side of the cliff.
On one side of the road rose a wall of rock that felt as if it could come crashing down on the car at any time. Even so, it was easier to fix her gaze on the cliff wall than to look at the other side, where the road sheared away in a dizzying drop to the sea, pounding the rocky shore far below.