She wanted him out of the room, she wanted him gone, and yet he stepped closer, and it was Amy who stepped back, acutely aware of his maleness, shamefully aware of her own body’s conflicted response.
Anger burnt and hissed, but something else did too, for he was an impressive male, supremely beautiful, and of course she had noticed—what woman would not? But down there in his office, or in the safety of the nursery, he was the King and the twins’ father, down there he was her boss, but here in this room he was something else.
Somehow she must not show it, so instead she hurled words. ‘I do love your children, and it’s tearing me apart to even think of walking away, but it’s been nearly a year since Hannah died and I can’t make excuses any more. If they were my children and you ignored them, then I’d have left you by now. The only difference is I’d have taken them with me...’ Her face was red with fury, her blue eyes awash with fresh tears, but there was something more—something she could not tell him. It meant she had to—had to—consider leaving, because sometimes when she looked at Emir she wanted the man he had once been to return, and shamefully, guiltily, despite herself, she wanted him.
She tore her eyes from his, terrified as to what he might see, and yet he stepped towards her, deliberately stepped towards her. She fought the urge to move towards him—to feel the wrap of his arms around her, for him to shield her from this hell.
It was a hell of his own making, though, Amy remembered, moving away from him and stepping out onto the balcony, once again ruing the sultry nights.
But it was not just the night that was oppressive. He had joined her outside. She gulped in air, wished the breeze would cool, for it was not just her face that was burning. She felt as if her body was on fire.
‘Soon I will marry...’ He saw her shoulders tense, watched her hands grip the balcony, and as the breeze caught her nightdress it outlined her shape, detailing soft curves. In that moment Emir could not speak—was this the first time he’d noticed her as a woman?
No.
But this was the first time he allowed himself to properly acknowledge it.
He had seen her in the nursery when he had visited the children a few weeks ago. That day he had sat through a difficult meeting with his elders and advisers, hearing that Queen Natasha was due to give birth soon and being told that soon he must marry.
Emir did not like to be told to do anything, and he rarely ever was.
But in this he was powerless and it did not sit well.
He had walked into the nursery, dark thoughts chasing him. But seeing Amy sitting reading to the twins, her blue eyes looking up, smiling as he entered, he had felt his black thoughts leave him. For the first time in months he had glimpsed peace. Had wanted to stay awhile with his children, with the woman he and Hannah had entrusted to care for them.
He had wanted to hide.
But a king could not hide.
Now what he saw was not so soothing. Now her soft femininity did not bring peace. For a year his passion might as well have been buried in the sands with his wife. For a year he had not fought temptation—there had been none. But something had changed since that moment in the nursery, since that day when he had noticed not just her smile but her mouth, not just her words but her voice. At first those thoughts had been stealthy, invading dreams over which he had no control, but now they were bolder and crept in by day. The scent of her perfume in an empty corridor might suddenly reach him, telling him the path she had recently walked, reminding him of a buried dream. And the mention of her name when she had requested a meeting had hauled him from loftier thoughts to ones more basic.
And basic were his thoughts now, yet he fought them.
He tried to look at the problem, not the temptation before him, the woman standing with her back to him. He wanted to turn her around, wanted to in a way he hadn’t in a long time. But he was not locked in dreams now. He had control here and he forced himself to speak on.
‘I did look through your contract and you are right. It has not been adhered to.’
Still she did not turn to look at him, though her body told her to. She wished he would leave—could not deal with him here even if it was to discuss the twins.
‘After their birthday things are going to get busy here,’ Emir said.
‘When you select your bride and marry?’
He did not answer directly. ‘These are complicated times for Alzan. Perhaps it would be better if the girls spent some time in London—a holiday.’
She closed her eyes, knew what was coming. Yes, a flight on his luxury jet, a few weeks at home with the twins, time with her family, luxurious hotels... What was there to say no to? Except... She took a deep breath and turned to him. ‘Without you?’
‘Yes,’ Emir said.
She looked at the man who had so loved his children, who was now so closed off, so remote, so able to turn from them, and she had to know why.
‘Is it because they remind you of Hannah?’ Amy asked. ‘Is that why it hurts so much to have them around?’
‘Leave it,’ he said. He wished the answer was that simple, wished there was someone in whom he could confide. ‘I will have the trip scheduled.’
‘So you can remove them a bit more from your life?’
‘You do not talk to me like that.’
‘Here I do.’
‘Once I am married the twins will have a mother figure...’
‘Oh, please!’
He frowned at her inappropriate response, but that did not deter her.
‘Is it a mother for the twins you are selecting or a bride to give you sons?’
‘I’ve told you already: it is not for you to question our ways. What would you know...?’
‘Plenty.’ Amy retorted. ‘My parents divorced when I was two and I remember going to my father’s; I remember when he married his new wife—a woman who had no interest in his children, who would really have preferred that we didn’t inconvenience her one Saturday in two.’ She stopped her tirade. There was no point. This was about the twins, not her past.
But instead of telling her off again, instead of telling her her words were inappropriate, he asked questions.
‘How did you deal with it as a child?’ Emir asked—because it mattered. He did want to make things better for his girls. ‘Were you unhappy? Were you...?’
‘Ignored?’ She finished his sentence for him and Emir nodded, making her tell him some of her truth. ‘Dad bought me a dolls’ house.’ She gave a pale smile at the memory. ‘I spent hours playing with it. There the mum and dad slept and ate together. The kids played in the garden or in the living room, not up in their room...’ There she’d been able to fix things. Her smile faded and trembled. Here she couldn’t fix things.
She felt his hand on her bare arm, felt his fingers brush her skin as if to comfort.
It did not.
She felt his flesh meet hers and it was all she could think of. His dark hand making contact was all she could think of when her mind should surely be only on the twins.
She hauled her thoughts back to them. ‘Can I ask,’ she said, ‘that when you consider a bride you think of them?’
‘Of course.’
His voice was soft and low, his hand still warm on her arm and there was a different tension surrounding them, the certainty that she was but a second away from a kiss.
A kiss that could only spell danger.
Perhaps that was his plan? Amy thought, shrugging off his hand, turning again to the desert. Perhaps he wanted her to fall in love with him. How convenient to keep her here, to bind her a little closer to the twins, to ensure that she did not resign. For he deemed her better for the twins.
‘Leave!’ She spat the word out over her shoulder, but still he stood. ‘Leave...’ she said again. But there was no relief when he complied, no re
spite when she heard the door close. Amy choked back angry tears as she stood on the balcony, she wanted to call him back, wanted to continue their discussion....wanted...
There was the other reason she had to consider leaving.
Despite herself, despite the way he had been these past months, when he made any brief appearance in the nursery, on the rare occasions when he deigned to appear, her heart foolishly leapt at the sight of him—and lately her dreams had allowed more intimate glimpses of him. It confused her that she could have feelings for a man who paid so little attention to his own children.
Feelings that were forbidden.
Hidden.
And they must stay that way, Amy told herself, climbing into bed and willing sleep to come. But she was nervous all the same, for when she woke it would be morning.
And tomorrow she would be alone in the desert with him.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘COME in.’
Amy’s smile wasn’t returned as the bedroom door opened and Fatima walked in.
‘I’m nearly ready.’
‘What are you doing?’ Fatima frowned, her serious eyes moving over the mountain of coloured paper scattered over Amy’s bed.
‘I’m just wrapping some presents to take for the twins. I hadn’t had a chance before.’ She hadn’t had a chance because after a night spent tossing and turning, wondering if she’d misread things, wondering what might have happened had she not told Emir to leave, Amy had, for the first time since she’d taken the role as nanny, overslept.
Normally she was up before the twins, but this morning it had been their chatter over the intercom that had awoken her and now, having given them breakfast and got them bathed and dressed, five minutes before their departure for the desert, she had popped them in their cots so she could quickly wrap the gifts.
‘Their time in the desert is to be solemn,’ Fatima said.
‘It’s their birthday.’
‘The celebrations will be here at the palace.’ She stood and waited as Amy removed the gifts from her open case. ‘The King is ready to leave now. I will help you board the helicopter with the twins.’ She called to another servant to collect Amy’s case.
‘You need to take the twins’ cases also,’ Amy told him.
‘I have taken care of that.’ Fatima clearly did not want the King to be kept waiting. ‘Come now.’
Perhaps she had imagined last night, for Emir barely glanced at the twins and was his usual dismissive self with Amy as they boarded the helicopter. Amy was grateful for Fatima’s help to strap the twins in. The twins were used to flying, and so too was Amy, but what was different this time was the lack of aides—usually at the very least Patel travelled with them, but this trip, as she had been told many times, would be different.
Amy could almost forgive his silence and his lack of interaction with the girls during the flight, for she was well aware that this was a journey he should have been making with his wife. Perhaps he was more pensive than dismissive?
Emir was more than pensive: he looked out to the desert with loathing, and the sun glinting on the canyons made him frown as he stared into the distance. He remembered the rebels who’d used to reside there—men who had refused to wait for the predictions to come true, who’d wanted Alzan to be gone and had taken matters into their own bloody hands.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Amy commented as they swept deeper into the desert. She’d said it more to herself, but Emir responded.
‘From a distance,’ Emir said. ‘But the closer you get...’
He did not finish. Instead he went back to staring broodily out of the window, replaying battles of the past in his mind, hearing the pounding hooves and the cries, feeling the grit of sand rubbed in wounds, history in every grain. Yet above all that he could hear her, reading a book to the twins, hear his daughters laughing as they impatiently turned the pages. He wanted to turn to the sound of them, to forget the pain and suffering, to set aside the past, but as King he had sworn to remember.
The heat hit Amy as soon as she stepped out of the helicopter. Emir held Nakia, while Amy carried Clemira and even though the helicopter had landed as close as possible to the compound of tents still the walk was hard work—the shifting soft sand made each step an effort. Once inside a tent, she took off her shoes and changed into slippers as Emir instructed. She thanked the pilot, who had brought in her suitcase, and then Emir led her through a passageway and after that another, as he briefly explained what would happen.
‘The girls will rest before we take them to the Bedouins. There is a room for you next to them.’
They were in what appeared to be a lounge, its sandy floor hidden beneath layer after layer of the most exquisite rugs. The different areas were all separated by coloured drapes. It was like being in the heart of a vibrant labyrinth and already she felt lost.
‘There are refreshments through there,’ Emir explained, ‘but the twins are not to have any. Today they must eat and drink only from the desert...’
Amy had stopped listening. She spun around as she heard the sound of the helicopter taking off. ‘He’s forgotten to bring in their luggage!’ She went to run outside, but she took a wrong turn and ran back into the lounge again, appalled that Emir wasn’t helping. ‘You have to stop him—we need to get the twins’ bags.’
‘They do not need the things you packed for them. They are here to learn the ways of the desert and to be immersed in them. Everything they need is here.’
‘I didn’t just pack toys for them!’ She could hear the noise of the chopper fading in the distance. Well, he’d just have to summon someone to get it turned around. ‘Emir—I mean, Your Highness.’ Immediately Amy corrected herself, for she had addressed him as she had so long ago. ‘It’s not toys or fancy clothes that I’m worried about. It’s their bottles, their formula.’
‘Here they will drink water from a cup,’ Emir said.
‘You can’t do that to them!’ Amy could not believe what she was hearing. ‘That’s far too harsh.’
‘Harsh?’ Emir interrupted. ‘This land is harsh. This land is brutal and unforgiving. Yet its people have learnt to survive in it. When you are royal, when your life is one of privilege, it is expected that at least once a year you are true to the desert.’
Where, she wondered, had the caring father gone? Where was the man who had rocked his tiny babies in strong arms? Who even last night had picked up his sleeping child just to hold her? Maybe she really had dreamt it—maybe she had imagined last night—for he stood now unmoved as Clemira and Nakia picked up on the tension and started to cry.
‘We will leave soon,’ Emir said.
‘It’s time for their nap now,’ Amy said. She was expecting another argument, but instead he nodded.
‘When they wake we will leave.’
‘Is there anyone to help? To show me where they rest? Where the kitchen...?’
‘It’s just us.’
‘Just us?’ Amy blinked.
‘There is a groundsman to tend to the animals, but here in the tent and out in the desert we will take care of ourselves.’
Oh, she had known they would be alone in the desert, but she had thought he had meant alone by royal standards—she had been quite sure that there would be servants and maidens to help them. Not once had she imagined that it would truly be just them, and for the first time the vastness and the isolation of the desert scared her.
‘What if something happens?’ Amy asked. ‘What if one of the girls gets ill?’
‘The Bedouins trust me to make the right decisions for their land and for their survival. It is right that in turn I trust them.’
‘With your children?’
‘Again,’ Emir said, ‘I have to warn you not to question our ways. Again,’ he stated, ‘I have to remind you that you are an employee.’
The wind made the tent walls billow, and the low wooden cribs that lay on the floor were nothing like what the twins were used to—neither were the cloth nappies she changed them into. Emir came in with two cups of water for the girls, but that just upset them more, and when he’d left Amy took ages rocking the cribs to get the twins to settle. Her anger towards Emir rose as she did so, and it was a less than impressed Amy who finally walked out to the sight of Emir resting on the cushions.
He looked at her tightly pressed lips, saw the anger burning in her cheeks as she walked past him, and offered a rare explanation. ‘There are traditions that must be upheld. Sit.’ Emir watched her fingers clench at his command and perhaps wisely rephrased it. ‘Please be seated. I will explain what is to take place.’
It was awkward to sit on the low cushions, but Amy remembered to tuck her feet away from him. It was difficult facing him again after last night—not that he appeared to remember it, for his eyes did not even search her face. Really he seemed rather bored at having to explain things.
‘I understand that you think this is cruel, but really it is not...’
‘I never said cruel,’ Amy corrected. ‘I said it was harsh on the girls. Had you told me earlier what was to happen I could have better prepared them. I could have had them drinking from cups.’
He conceded with a nod, and now he did look at her—could see not just the anger but that she was upset, and on behalf of his children. ‘I know the year has been a difficult one. I am grateful the girls have had you.’
Harlequin Presents January 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Ruthless Caleb WildeBeholden to the ThroneThe Incorrigible Playboy Page 22