Pursued by the Desert Prince (Mills & Boon Modern) (The Sauveterre Siblings, Book 1)

by Dani Collins

  “Maybe it did.” His shoulders lifted and fell. “I certainly believed I’d killed him when I was being crowned.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hating herself for being his weakness, the thing that he’d gone after to the detriment of his father and his relationship with him.

  “He had a heart condition. His heart had been failing for years.” His mouth curled with irony. “But I didn’t respond to your text because I blamed myself for his death. I blamed us.”

  Her worst nightmare. Her heart plummeted. There went the small dream she had formed at his arriving here, the one she hadn’t really let form.

  “I even blamed you for bringing that damned necklace from Jamal. I was not the man you asked me to be,” he said with self-disgust.

  And this was his punishment. The ultimate sacrifice, losing his father. He wasn’t trying to dump that on her shoulders. She saw he carried it alone, but she felt awful all the same. Wanted to help him.

  “What I didn’t know, until he was dead and I was king, was that Fatina had fought with him that night herself. I was so busy in those first days after he passed away, it was two whole weeks before I could sit down and talk with her privately about her future. She fell apart, completely racked with guilt.”

  “They fought about Jamal?”

  “She told him she wanted a divorce. I won’t break her confidence by repeating all she told me, but... I do believe he loved her in whatever way he was able. Losing her, realizing he had lost her love by failing Jamal, was more than he could bear.”

  “But he had a heart condition,” she hurried to repeat. “Please tell me you didn’t make her live with that guilt.”

  He cast her a look that demanded some credit.

  “I told her she was a generous wife and a good mother. I was unsurprised she would fight for the happiness of all my brothers and sisters, particularly Jamal. I told her she shouldn’t blame herself and that I wanted to arrange for her to see Jamal as soon as possible.”

  “You’re a good man, Kasim.”

  He made a dismissive noise. “I would have preferred to bring Jamal home, but I don’t think that would be safe yet. I’m afraid to resurrect him. But I was able to reach him through the jeweler and we met him in Paris. He says hello and that he is still interested in working together if you are.”

  “That’s why you’re here? To deliver his message?”

  “No.” He gave her a look that suggested she was dense, then paced across to the windows that looked out on the sun-drenched sea. “I am here because I am under a great deal of pressure to go through on the promise I made to my dead father, to marry the woman he chose. But if I succumb to an arranged marriage, I know I would take you on the side and turn into him.”

  He slashed his hand through the air.

  “I will not repeat history. I will not have you end up hating me as Fatina did my father. Not when I need your love so badly. I will need that love in the years to come, to keep me human. Ruling a country is not easy.”

  “Kasim...” This was heaven and hell wrapped up in one moment. She dropped her head so she wasn’t looking at him. She was so tempted. “If you loved me—”

  “Angelique. Look at me.”

  She lifted her head. The fierce determination in his features made her heart skip while the tenderness in his eyes stole her breath.

  “What have I learned from my family? You love who you love. If you fight it, if you try to force it in another direction, there will be nothing but pain. You asked me once to give you up for the sake of my country. I’m coming after you for the sake of my country. Without you, the one I love, I will be as frustrated as my father. I’ll become bitter and my heart will shrivel into a pitiless husk. Save my people from that. Save me from turning into that.”

  She let out a small laugh. “You’re overstating, aren’t you?”

  “No. I watched it happen to him. He was much kinder in my youth, but his being trapped with my mother while wanting Fatina twisted him.”

  Her ridiculously tender heart pitied his father for the position he’d been in. Still, “Would your country have accepted her if he had married Fatina?” She’d seen Fatina’s family. They were modest people of the desert. “I don’t want to be a source of unrest in your country. I have a reputation, true or not. People will think you should have found someone more upstanding.”

  “In choosing my wife, I will be the authoritarian that my father was,” he said with a point at the floor. “I will not compromise. I could engage myself to the woman he chose and tomcat through Europe for the next four years until I marry her, but I don’t want that sort of freedom. I don’t want other women. I don’t want her. I want you. I will have you. My uncle and my advisors and anyone else who disapproves can...” He showed his teeth. “Grin and bear it.”

  She couldn’t take it in, especially now she’d seen the scope of his life. If she had thought being a media darling was onerous, she couldn’t imagine flouting his country’s conservatives and becoming his wife.

  “I’m not someone who thumbs their nose at the establishment. They’ll tear me apart.”

  “They’ll try.” His mouth tightened. “But you’ll win them over. God knows you’ll be well protected until you do. I swear to keep you safe, Angelique.”

  “But you’re overestimating what I’m capable of.”

  “Like hell,” he said softly. “You think you’re only brave if you pretend to be your sister. You are bravest when you’re defending her because you love your sister. That love of yours is such a well of strength. I’ve seen it and I want it beside me, supporting me. I know that my love for you will make me a better man. Provided I can indulge it,” he added with a look that was both sensual and tender.

  Oh, he was such a seducer. Her heart fluttered like a caught bird and her eyes stung with moved tears. She cupped her hot cheeks.

  “How could this be a surprise to you?” he chided, coming toward her and increasing her excited turmoil.

  He took her wrists and drew them down so they stood face-to-face. She had no way to hide how overcome she was.

  “I didn’t think you loved me,” she confessed in a daze. “I thought maybe if we had had more time you might have come to care...”

  “I care,” he admonished. “I always cared. And I am not someone who needs a lot of time to know my own mind.” He shifted his grip and caressed the back of her knuckles with his thumbs. “But we will have to take things slow. Announcing an engagement this soon after my father’s death—You’re not pregnant, are you?” he asked with a sharpening of his expression.

  “What? No! How could I be?”

  “We didn’t use anything at the oasis.”

  She huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “I’m on the pill, remember?”

  His mouth twisted. “Shame. It would have given us a reason for shortening our timeline, but it’s probably for the best if we do things in the right order.” He sighed. “I want to make so many changes in my country, relax restrictions and change attitudes, but it has to be done carefully or there will be chaos. Is that the reassurance you need, Angelique? You will have time to put all these pieces together in your pretty head.”

  He was teasing her, reminding her of their first night together when he had tried to railroad her into extending their affair. She wanted to duck into him, maybe have a little cry because this was so much to take in. She was trying to smile, but her lips were trembling.

  “I didn’t bring a ring. I asked Jamal to make one for you.”

  She had to choke out a little laugh and pull one hand free to swipe at a tear that leaked down her cheek. “You don’t have to bribe me.”

  “No? Well, I brought this anyway, hoping it would be an inducement.” He released her other hand and reached inside his suit jacket, bringing out a velvet box she recognized.

 
; Her heart did a little bump and roll as he flipped the lid to show her the emerald necklace he’d tried to give her in Paris.

  “I should have explained that day that it was not a pay-off. Jamal made this years ago, before he left Zhamair. I told him that one day my queen would wear it.”

  “Queen!” Her knees wilted and Kasim quickly hooked his arm around her, catching her into him. Which didn’t help at all because finally being back in his arms was such a relief she melted against him completely.

  “What did you think?” He leaned to drop the necklace on the side table and scooped her under her knees, moving to sit on the sofa with her in his lap.

  “I just wanted you to love me. Yes, I had fantasies we might marry, but because I want to be your wife. I want to see you every day and share my life with you.”

  “Finally she says yes.”

  She curled her arm around his neck and laugh-cried against his throat at his presumption. So like him.

  But she loved him. So much.

  Tipping back her head, she set her trembling hand against his bearded cheek, gazed into his beloved eyes and said, “I would be honored to be your wife.”

  “And my queen.”

  “Harem girl, if that’s what you need me to be,” she said, barely able to see him, her eyes were so full. She swiped at her silly leak of tears. “Good thing I had no time for makeup. I’m trying not to do this, you know. You said you were tired of tears, but I’m just so moved.”

  “The sad tears are killing me. The angry ones. I trust these are happy ones?”

  “They are. Oh, Kasim.” She lifted to press her mouth to his, unable to hold back her expansive feelings.

  His arms tightened to gather her closer and he kissed her with deep passion and infinite tenderness. Love imbued the moment, sending a rush of joy and heat through her. Desire. That delicious, sharp desire that only he ignited in her awoke to make her burn.

  He was reacting just as instantaneously. She felt his hardness against her thigh and he slid to press her beneath him on the sofa.

  As his mouth slid down her throat, he lifted his head and frowned at her bare neck. “No panic button.”

  “I wasn’t going to put one on for you.”

  “Even though I intend to steal you from your family?”

  “That part will be hard for me,” she admitted. “It’s good I’ll have time to do that in stages. But there are times when I’m impatient, you know.” She loved the feel of his stubble against her palm and absolutely had to trace his bottom lip with her thumb. “I don’t want to go to a hotel,” she whispered.

  “No?” He was reading the hunger in her and answering with a growing heat in his own gaze. He shifted so he was between her legs, pressing his hardest flesh against her softest.

  “It will take too long to drive there and have it scouted. I want to sneak you into my bedroom so you can ravish me there. Now.”

  He pulled away, drawing her up as he went. “See how good you are at encouraging me to compromise? Lead the way, my beautiful future wife.”

  EPILOGUE

  Two months later...

  ANGELIQUE WAS ALWAYS happiest when her whole family was together, but she felt a little guilty for being so happy today. It was her engagement party, however, so she was entitled to be elated.

  And it wasn’t a huge party, which made her even happier. Just those closest to them gathered at Sus Brazos for a weekend to celebrate what amounted to a secret engagement since they weren’t officially announcing it for another few months.

  She was making other people happy with this small party, too. Sadiq and Hasna were here and Jamal had just arrived with his partner. Kasim was sequestered with the four of them while his brother and sister took a few minutes to reunite in person after being in touch again since the wedding.

  It gave Angelique a few minutes to study her sister, who was arguing heatedly with Ramon on the far side of the pool. Of the four of them, those two were the only combination to descend into yelling matches. They weren’t there yet, but it was only a matter of time before one of them completely lost their temper and pushed the other into the water to cool off, evening clothes notwithstanding.

  The way Henri was glaring at them, it might very well be both of them taking a swim—by his hand.

  “What’s going on?” Kasim asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

  “They have Mama’s hot Spanish blood.” She leaned back into him. “Henri and I have our father’s French temperament, you lucky duck. Our silence speaks volumes. Their volume does.”

  “What are they fighting about?”

  “Unclear and probably not important,” she said with a fatalistic sigh. She suspected Trella had picked this fight to let off steam. Her sister was troubled. Angelique had been feeling it, but couldn’t do a thing about it. Trella was being that delightfully frustrating shade of her true self: stubborn and ferociously independent.

  She had even come up with a plan to transition Angelique from the day-to-day operations at Maison des Jumeaux, while allowing her to keep her foot in the door, submitting designs and indulging her artistry around her duties as queen—oh, she would never fully grasp that!

  Trella was determined for Angelique to move on with her life without feeling held back. It made Angelique wistful, even though she was also grateful. She loved Kasim so very much and wanted to be with him without guilt.

  “How is Hasna?” She turned in his arms to ask the question.

  “Good. They’ll be out in a moment, but I couldn’t wait to show you... Come here.”

  He pulled her a little farther along the veranda to a corner where the light was soft and the view was nothing but starry night and glittering sea. The fragrance off the early summer blooms came up from the garden below and the warm air caressed her bare shoulders and calves.

  She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to show her, but was still overcome as her future husband caressed her arms before he went down on one knee.

  “Angelique, my love.”

  “Oh! You don’t have to do that.” She instantly choked up and lost sight of him behind a film of emotive tears.

  “Arrêtez,” she heard Henri growl at her siblings, receiving instant silence. She suspected they were being watched.

  She was never comfortable as the center of attention, but she looked into the face of the man she loved and knew he would keep her safe no matter what.

  “Will you marry me?” He showed her the ring that Jamal had made, the one she had been holding her breath to see. Now, in this deeply moving moment, she couldn’t make herself look away from the love in Kasim’s eyes.

  “You know I will. I love you with everything in me. Please.” She waved for him to rise. He was a king after all.

  He did, suddenly tall and close. He slid the ring on her shaking hand and handed her his handkerchief so she could clear her vision enough to fall in love with the hint of a feathered design cut into the band. Claws like talons held a stunning round diamond. It was simple and elegant, pretty, but imbued with the fierceness of her husband while conveying that he did know her very well and longed to please her.

  “I love it.”

  “I love you.” He cupped her chin and kissed her tenderly. “This time next year we will marry in Zhamair. It’s far too long to wait, but this is a step in the right direction.”

  A small burst of applause made them both glance in that direction and she blushed to discover not just her mother and siblings, but Jamal and his partner, Hasna and Sadiq, all beaming at them.

  They would marry in a ceremony that would be big and overwhelming, and her life would be equally huge and daunting, but she would have these cherished people to help her through it.

  And this man. She looked up at Kasim, her other half. Not her reflection, b
ut her complement. Curling her arms around his neck, she went up on tiptoes to kiss him.

  * * * * *

  EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT

  The Temporary Mrs. Marchetti

  by Melanie Milburne

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE FIRST THING Alice noticed when she came to work that morning was the letter on her desk. Something about the officious-looking envelope with its gold embossed insignia made her skin shrink against her skeleton. Letters from lawyers always made her feel a little uneasy. But then she looked closer at the name of the firm. Why would a firm of Italian lawyers be contacting her?

  She picked the letter up and her breath came to a juddering halt when she saw it was postmarked Milan.

  Cristiano Marchetti lived in Milan.

  Alice’s fingers shook as if she had some sort of movement disorder. Surely he hadn’t...died? A sharp pain sliced through her, her breath coming in short, erratic bursts, making not just her fingers tremble but her whole body.

  Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.

  How had she missed that in the press? Surely there would have been an announcement for someone with Cristiano’s public profile? They reported every other thing he did. The glamorous women he dated. The fading hotels he bought and rebuilt into stunning boutique accommodation all over the Mediterranean. The charity events he attended. The parties. The nightclubs. Cristiano couldn’t change his shirt or shoes or socks without someone reporting it in the press.

  Alice peeled open the envelope, her eyes scanning the brief cover letter, but she couldn’t make any sense of it...or maybe that was because her brain was scrambled with a host of unbidden memories. Memories she had locked away for the last seven years. Memories she refused to acknowledge—even in a weak moment—because that was the pathway to regret and that was one journey she was determined never to travel. Her legs were so unsteady she reached blindly for her chair and sat down, holding the document in front of her blurry gaze.

  But wait...

  It wasn’t Cristiano who had died. It was his grandmother, Volante Marchetti, the woman who, along with his late grandfather Enzo, had raised him since he was orphaned at the age of eleven when his parents and older brother had been killed in an accident.