Scandal: His Majesty's Love-Child

by Annie West

  Too many years abusing his body with too little sleep, too many parties, too much alcohol, far too many women. Pushing the limits as he sought new challenges and pleasures. Anything to divert him from the grey pall that threatened whenever he stayed in one place too long.

  Yet he’d been anything but bored in the dead heart of Qusay! With a woman who had no notion of how innately sexy she was. Who’d trusted and cared for him as no woman ever had.

  An unfamiliar sensation slithered down his backbone. Regret? A pang of conscience?

  It was so novel he concentrated his meagre energies on pinning it down. Was it conscience?

  People thought Tahir Al’Ramiz didn’t possess a conscience. He’d cultivated that view since he’d given up trying to be a perfect son and yielded to the weight of his father’s hatred.

  If you can’t beat them join them.

  Tahir had emulated his father in developing a taste for sybaritic decadence. By the time he was eighteen his family hadn’t been able to stomach the sight of him. There’d been no tears shed at his exile.

  But, despite his reputation for dissoluteness, he had some standards, even if he didn’t broadcast them. He never harmed the innocent. He’d even privately helped a few of those who didn’t have the benefits of wealth. Casual charity was easy. It didn’t make him a good man. It was simple to give away what you didn’t care about.

  And he had never stooped to deflowering virgins.

  Until last night.

  That cold sensation was back again, slipping like ice down his spine and cramping his belly.

  He didn’t even have the excuse of amnesia. He’d known who he was last night: the sort of man who had no business consorting with innocents. He’d known his past, his present and, fate preserve him, his future.

  Tahir hated thinking about the future. Other people dreamed of it. Like Annalisa. She’d been incandescent with delight about travelling and seeing the world. He’d been riveted by the sight of her excitement.

  He couldn’t remember ever feeling that happy.

  His future would be the same as his past. Nothing significant enough to hold his attention.

  Boredom.

  Yet he hadn’t been bored with Annalisa. The feral thought lodged in his brain.

  Despite the pain and the infuriating slowness of his recovery, he’d enjoyed being here.

  The realisation sideswiped him.

  Talking with an inexperienced girl who’d never left Qusay about astronomy, the need for local schools, the latest plans for irrigating the edge of the desert. About customs he remembered from another life and people he’d never met, about the small communities that made up her world. Even about the care and feeding of an orphan goat. And he’d been content!

  For days the bounds of this oasis had circumscribed his world and he hadn’t hankered for more.

  An image of Annalisa’s smile appeared: the way her eyes softened when she laughed, the way the sun brought out gold and bronze highlights in her rich brown hair. The way her slim fingers felt as she tended his wounds. The scent of cinnamon and honey that haunted his sleep.

  She was the reason he’d been content.

  More than content. He’d been happy!

  A sound interrupted his thoughts. Soft humming, off-key yet delightful.

  He slitted open his eyes, seeing daylight. He’d slept late. He might even have been unconscious after the sheer stupidity of having sex despite cracked ribs and head wounds.

  Ripping off his shirt last night had almost killed him. But he’d have died for sure if he hadn’t felt Annalisa’s hands on him, her sweet body against his.

  His erection was instantaneous and achingly powerful, just at the memory of her.

  The humming ceased and the tent flap lifted. His heart banged painfully against his ribs as she entered, wearing her hair down for the first time. Tendrils curled invitingly around her full breasts. She turned and a shaft of sunlight caught her back. Her hair rippled like finest silk, spun with threads of mahogany and gold.

  She bent and retrieved something from the ground and his gaze fixed ravenously on the perfect peach shape of her bottom. His mouth dried.

  Yet her movements weren’t as graceful as usual. When she stepped across to tie up the tent flap he was sure of it.

  She moved as if it hurt to walk.

  As a woman might walk after a stranger had stolen her virginity. Then followed it up with a second bout of sex that had been far less restrained and even more desperate.

  He’d been so needy. Despite his pain and her exhaustion he hadn’t been able to resist kissing her awake and taking his fill of her again. He’d ensured she’d climaxed again, not once but twice. Yet he should have controlled himself. He should have known.

  Hell! What did he know about virgins?

  And, frankly, what did he care? Once he’d had Annalisa under him he hadn’t been able to wait to have her again.

  She turned and sunlight fell across her face.

  What he saw there made his pulse thump out of kilter.

  The cold feeling at his spine crept through his body, turning his organs to leaden lumps of ice.

  Her once flawless skin was marred by angry reddened rashes. Around her mouth, on her cheeks and neck.

  Whisker-burn.

  More, there was a purpling mark on her throat. Another just visible at her neckline.

  Where his teeth had grazed her.

  Tahir’s stomach swooped as it had the day his chopper crashed. But this time it didn’t stop falling.

  He shut his eyes against nausea as a vision from the past rose. His father staggering from a banquet with his closest, must corrupt cronies, his newest mistress tucked close beside him. Except his mistress had been a scared teenager who’d cringed at Yazan Al’Ramiz’s touch.

  His father had swatted him away like a fly when he’d tried to intervene, a skinny thirteen-year-old without the skill to tackle a full-grown man who knew every dirty trick. Tahir had gone down hard, cracking his head and coming to far too late to intervene again.

  But he’d seen her the next day. Pale, with a livid bruise along her cheek. She hadn’t seen him. She’d been too absorbed in misery to notice anyone.

  The sound of Annalisa’s off-key humming broke across the memory.

  Last night hadn’t been the same.

  Annalisa had wanted him. Pleaded with him.

  Except he’d used his sexual expertise to make her beg for something she didn’t fully understand. He’d wanted her and set out to get her, even to the extent of having her admit it was she who wanted him.

  As if that exonerated him.

  Nothing changed the fact that he’d stolen her innocence.

  Now she looked at him with stars in her eyes. Even through barely opened lids he saw her innocent wonder.

  As if he was some fairytale hero.

  As if he was the answer to a maiden’s prayers.

  The knot of glacial ice in his belly had sharp edges. It ripped his guts when he tried to breathe. It cut through his self-satisfaction and his excuses about last night.

  It reminded him he was his father’s son. Decadent. Self-interested. A man obsessed with pleasure.

  The fact that Tahir found pleasure almost nowhere these days didn’t alter the truth that he was as flawed as Yazan Al’Ramiz. He was the last man on earth she should be building castles in the air over.

  For that was what she was doing. He could see it in her eyes. Annalisa was so refreshingly transparent.

  Regret lanced him, so powerful it was a physical pain even stronger than what he already suffered.

  He ignored it.

  Annalisa would not be a casualty of his vices. She’d forget about him and get on with her life with never a backward glance.

  He’d cure her of her romantic daydreams.

  He owed her that much.

  CHAPTER SIX

  HE WAS awake. She caught a glimpse of his eyes, glinting like sunlight on the ocean. Her heart gave an awkward thump the
n settled into something like a steady beat, albeit far too rapid.

  ‘I’ve made you breakfast.’ She knelt beside him, eyes lowered, wishing she had the nerve to reach out and touch him as she had last night. But in the bright morning light she felt shy. It would be easier soon, when he smiled, caressed her. Maybe even tugged her down to him.

  Heat sizzled in her stomach.

  She wasn’t sorry it had happened. Stunned, yes. Amazed at how beautiful it had been. But not regretful. It had been the single most wonderful experience of her life.

  Tahir had been exquisitely tender and generous. She’d heard enough matrons gossiping about wedding nights to know not all women enjoyed their first time with a man.

  Annalisa had done more than enjoy. Tahir had given her ecstasy. Warmth and connection and unbelievable pleasure. More, he’d bestowed something she couldn’t name. Something glowing and positive that countered the pain of these last months. Something that made the future look sunny and wondrous.

  ‘Not sweet tea again.’ There was a petulance in his voice she’d never heard. ‘Is that all you have?’

  Her head jerked up and she met his frowning stare. His eyes were hard, almost febrile, his expression tight and unfamiliar. The grooves around his mouth had deepened and his lips were pursed in a disgruntled line.

  ‘Are you in pain?’ What had she done, demanding so much last night? He was still far from recovered. Guilt slashed her and she reached out to him.

  A sinewy forearm blocked her move. His eyes glittered and his nostrils pinched as if in displeasure.

  ‘Of course I’m in pain. Having sex with these injuries was a fool’s game.’

  ‘I know. I’ve been wondering how you are.’

  She waited for him to smile and say their night together had been worth the pain. That they’d shared something momentous and special.

  The silence grew.

  Tahir’s gaze was unreadable. Something about his raised eyebrows and tight mouth made her sink back on her heels, her certainty suddenly on shaky foundations.

  He had enjoyed it, hadn’t he?

  Of course he had. There’d been no mistaking his pleasure.

  But maybe…maybe what had been a special, out of the world experience for her had been something else for him?

  She clasped her hands, fighting the doubt roiling in her stomach. How she wished she understood.

  Had he nothing to say about their night together? Even simply lying in his arms, tucked up against his large, powerful body had been bliss.

  ‘I feel like you’d expect me to feel after a chopper crash, dehydration and over-exertion. I feel like death. Far worse than yesterday.’

  Over-exertion? Annalisa frowned. That was what he called their lovemaking?

  Over-exertion?

  The churning in her stomach intensified even as a shaft of indignation hit her.

  She tried to ignore it. Tahir was ill. By the look of him far worse than he’d been last night, and that was her fault. If she hadn’t been so needy…

  ‘I’ll just…’ She paused, his words sinking in. ‘Chopper crash? You remember an accident?’

  His mouth curved in a smile that held none of the rakish charm she’d grown used to. Instead he looked sarcastic.

  ‘I wouldn’t have said so if I hadn’t remembered.’

  ‘Were there others? On the helicopter?’ The thought of people lost in the desert had haunted her for days.

  ‘No. No one else to practise your precious nursing skills on.’ The way he spoke made it sound as if she’d done more harm than good. Hurt and bewilderment curled inside her. Even as she heard his cutting words and saw his supercilious expression she didn’t believe it. Tahir would never speak to her like that.

  ‘But—’

  ‘But nothing.’ He paused. ‘I had an important cargo, just not people. Crates of the finest champagne and the best caviar money can buy. I was bringing it here for the coronation, but I’ve missed the party now.’ He lifted his shoulders in a stiff movement that confirmed his pain had worsened. ‘A pity. If there’s one thing I enjoy it’s a good party.’

  The way he said it, and his leer, implied something seedy and distasteful. No doubt he meant the kind of celebration no well brought up Qusani woman should know anything about.

  She blinked, staring in disbelief at the changeling before her. Where was the stoic, witty, sociable man she’d cared for these past days? The one who’d been engaging and friendly, compassionate and even…loving?

  He reached out an unsteady hand for the tea she’d brought. The way he clenched his jaw and the white line around his mouth told her his pain was extreme. Automatically she reached to help him, blaming herself for being so weak as to beg for sex from an injured man.

  ‘Don’t!’ The single syllable was a harsh command. ‘Don’t touch me.’

  Wide-eyed, Annalisa stared at the stranger before her.

  Even in the extremity of his pain, even delirious, Tahir had never spoken to her in that tone of voice. As if she weren’t worthy to breathe the same air as him.

  Her heart squeezed in a spasm of acute distress. Pain, sharp as her grandfather’s treasured sword, transfixed her.

  ‘You’ve done enough.’ His gaze slid from hers and he lifted the cup to his lips, grimacing in distaste. ‘Let’s hope they can at least make decent coffee in the palace.’

  ‘In the palace?’ Annalisa sank away from the mattress, lifting her knees and looping her arms around them, suddenly desperate for warmth, despite the hot shafts of sunlight illuminating this corner of the tent. She was cold on the inside. She felt as if she would never be warm again.

  ‘Didn’t I say I was heading to the palace?’ He rolled his eyes as if in disgust at her ignorance. ‘I’m a relative of the new king, Kareef. That’s why I’m back in this god-forsaken country. To see him crowned, enjoy the celebration, then head back.’

  ‘Back?’ Annalisa felt absurdly like a parrot, repeating what he said. But her brain didn’t work properly. She was still coming to terms with this shocking stranger.

  It was as if, with the return of his memory, Tahir had undergone a personality transplant. From charming companion to the rear end of a camel in the blink of an eye.

  The thought of her little cousin’s favourite insult normally made her grin. Not this time. She tightened her grip on her legs, rocking slightly, as if seeking comfort.

  There was no comfort to be found today.

  If the pain lacerating her was any indication, she was bleeding internally—from the shattering of foolish, barely formed hopes.

  How had she ever imagined she had anything in common with a man from another world? Who wore a tuxedo as if born to it? A man of obvious education and wealth and power?

  A man, moreover, who had all the arrogance and none of the generosity that riches could breed.

  She blinked hard, telling herself it was a speck of grit that made her eyes water.

  ‘Back to civilisation,’ he murmured. ‘To the bright lights of the city. To business and sophisticated entertainment.’ He lingered lovingly on the final words and bile rose in Annalisa’s throat. She saw the glint in his eyes. There was no mistaking his meaning. Sophisticated women, he meant. With his looks and apparent wealth he’d have his fill.

  The notion cramped her stomach.

  What had she been? A passing whim? A novelty?

  ‘No doubt you’re eager to return to your friends,’ she said, as brightly as she could. Unfortunately the words tumbled out rushed and uneven.

  ‘You can’t imagine how much.’ He didn’t even look at her, just picked at the carefully prepared food on the plate.

  Annalisa’s scalp prickled as nausea rose.

  How had she been naïve enough to mistake last night for anything like tenderness or caring? She couldn’t blame Tahir for taking what she’d offered—no, what she’d begged for so blatantly.

  Shame suffused her, burning her cheeks and every place he’d touched last night.

  But
she couldn’t forgive him for treating her with disdain. Did he think her lack of sophistication and experience a reason to view her with contempt? Was this her first taste of life in the big wide world?

  Abruptly she raised her head, surprised to find him watching her.

  She skewered him with a glare and lifted her chin, refusing to let him think she was humbled by his presence. Carefully she rose, ignoring the protest of aching muscles, then pinned on her best bright bedside smile.

  ‘I’ll leave you in peace. You’ll want to make plans for your return to civilisation.’

  When Annalisa’s transport out of the desert arrived before noon, Tahir was ready to leave. He’d made himself thoroughly obnoxious all morning and could no longer stomach watching the effect on Annalisa.

  At first she’d looked on in dazed bewilderment, her soft brown eyes brimming with disbelief. His conscience had smitten him like a hot branding iron across his already burning ribs.

  Then, when she’d taken her measure of the ‘new’ Tahir, scorn and pride had made her lift her head and meet his jibes levelly. She’d looked regal and aloof and utterly lovely, confirming his belief that this was for the best.

  But that hadn’t stopped him craving her, like an addict needing just a little more. A smile, a touch, a caress. It had been hell, drawing her displeasure instead of her embraces with his arrogant nonsense.

  Yet it was no more than he deserved.

  He hadn’t even thought of protection! Of pregnancy.

  At the last moment, as the camel driver announced he was ready to go, Tahir cornered her. She’d decided to stay another few days. To study the skies, she’d said.

  To lick her wounds, he was sure.

  This was his last chance to talk to her.

  ‘Annalisa.’ Her head jerked up. She’d already said her goodbye, brief and stilted.

  Her eyes widened and a flash of emotion warmed them for a moment. Her lips trembled open. In surprise or doubt?

  Tahir clamped his hands behind him, battling the urge to reach for her. To soothe the hurt he’d inflicted. His voice when he found it was rougher than he’d intended.