“You should have heard us arguing over her salary,” Khalil said proudly. “Not that she keeps it—the entire amount is donated to the children’s hospital, but she wasn’t going to let me off easily just because we’re married.”
“I will understand if you wish to have the marriage annulled,” the king said quietly. “Dora could have the choice of staying in El Bahar in her present job or returning to the United States. She would want for nothing. Then you would be free to find someone else to marry. I promise this time not to arrange a match.”
Khalil stared at him. An annulment? Dora leaving El Bahar? He remembered her words from earlier that day. She’d told him that until the foundation of their marriage was repaired, they could not build anything lasting.
“No,” he said sharply. “Dora and I are married, and we will stay married. She is my wife, regardless of what anyone thinks, including her!”
Early the next morning Khalil stormed into Dora’s room. He turned on a light and tossed a bundle of clothing onto her bed.
“What on earth?” she asked, then glanced at the clock. “It’s five in the morning. Is everything all right?”
He pointed at the clothes. “They’re for riding. You will get up and put them on.”
It was only then that she noticed what he was wearing. Khalil had dressed in light-colored slacks and a loose shirt. Riding boots gleamed to his knees. He looked like the sheik prince prepared to ride out and survey his kingdom. Despite her best efforts to keep herself under control, she couldn’t stop the thrill of pleasure that raced through her.
“Why?” she asked.
He stared down at her. “We are going riding,” he told her. “I am wooing you. You will find the ride very romantic and notice that I am an amusing companion. Then, when we return, you’ll be overcome, and we’ll make love.”
He looked completely serious as he spoke. Wooing her? Whose idea was this? Khalil was not the type to voluntarily woo a mere woman.
“You can’t simply announce all of this and expect me to fall in with your plans,” she said.
“Of course I can. I’m Prince—”
She waved him off with her hand. “Yes, yes, I know that part by heart. You might be Prince Khalil Khan but pigs will fly before I give in to you. Besides, I don’t know how to ride.”
“Not a problem. I’ll teach you.” His gaze sharpened. “And you will give in because I have warned you about challenging me. You are my wife. You will be most impressed, and you will find yourself falling hopelessly in love with me.”
He turned on his heel and headed for the door. “Meet me by the horse stables in thirty minutes.”
“Get out,” she yelled, tossing a pillow at him.
He laughed as he shut the door behind him.
Dora pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Had her husband really said that he was wooing her? Was it possible that he was actually starting to care about their marriage? She desperately wanted to believe it was true, but she wasn’t sure. She’d been disappointed many times before.
The riding clothes lay next to her on the bed. She looked at them, then at the clock. How would a man like him make a woman fall hopelessly in love with him? She had a feeling that his idea of wooing and hers would be quite different.
Dora rose to her feet and picked up the clothes. She would very much like to go riding with her husband. In fact she would be happy to do anything with him. For the past couple of months she’d been afraid he would force her hand by refusing to change at all. Given the choice, she would much rather stay and fight for her marriage than run away and get a divorce.
She pulled off her nightgown and started toward the bathroom. As for his plans to make her fall desperately in love with him…thank goodness he didn’t know how close she already was.
Chapter 14
The warm desert air blew softly across Dora’s face. Her mount, a gentle gelding with the patience of Job, cantered along next to Khalil’s powerful stallion. It was early, barely fifteen minutes after sunrise, but they’d already left the palace far in the distance.
Dora found herself laughing aloud with sheer joy as she savored the wonder of the morning. In the past few weeks she’d grown passionate about her rides with Khalil. Thanks to his surprising patience, she’d quickly learned to ride. He’d spent several mornings with her in a training ring before bringing her out into the desert. But after her first ride into the vastness of the quiet dawn, she’d been determined to make the rides a part of her daily schedule.
Up ahead she spotted the small oasis where they frequently stopped. The staff would have put a thermos of rich El Baharian coffee and some fresh pastries into their saddlebags. More often than not, she and Khalil shared breakfast as well as each other’s company on the rides.
When he’d first told her that he was setting out to woo her, she hadn’t much thought what that would be like. She’d expected a few curt compliments, perhaps flowers sent to her office, and of course the occasional ride in the desert. But he had proved more clever than that. He’d tried to scale the walls of her stubbornness with long conversations about the state of the nation and how they could together create change. He’d taken her on a tour of the poor parts of the city and had seriously listened to her suggestions. When parliament met at the beginning of the new term, he invited her along to observe and learn. And he’d found her a lovely white Persian kitten with big blue eyes and a bit of a temper. Then he’d told her that the spitting bit of fluff had reminded him of her.
Now, as they cantered across the dunes toward the small oasis, she glanced at her husband and reminded herself that it was important to resist him. Although the reasons were becoming less and less clear. Despite her resolve, Dora found herself falling more and more in love with him each day. She still hadn’t figured out how to get him to listen to her out of the office. He wouldn’t discuss the problems in their marriage, and he hadn’t once apologized for his early behavior or even admitted he’d been in the wrong. They were at an impasse, and she didn’t know how to change things.
They rode into the oasis. Date palms lined the fresh spring fed by an underground river. New grass carpeted the bank, all the way down to the water. Dora reined in her horse, then waited for Khalil to dismount. He always helped her to the ground, and she let him. They both knew she was capable of dismounting on her own, but she liked the feel of him next to her, holding her close. It was one of the few times they touched outside of the bedroom.
The day was as clear and bright as always. The rainy season had already passed, and they were heading into the heat of summer. She wondered how bad it would be and how long it would take her to adjust. Despite the problems with Khalil, Dora couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Whatever happened between them, she’d decided that El Bahar was her home, and she didn’t plan to leave.
“You’re looking serious about something,” Khalil said lightly as he removed the thermos from his saddlebag.
“Not really. I was thinking about how much I love my new country. It’s very beautiful, a balanced combination of history and future. You’re even somewhat progressive about women.”
“You think so?” he asked. “I’ve heard that the palace has a woman working in government. She’s responsible for acting as liaison between El Bahar and foreign corporations. Can you imagine such a thing?”
She spread a blanket on the ground. “How incredibly shocking. I’ve heard the same rumor. I’ve also heard that she’s quite brilliant.”
“Really? Everyone I talk to thinks that her husband is the brilliant one.”
Dora gave him a mocking glare. “I’m sure that’s your favorite rumor of all.”
“It is.”
She took two mugs from her bags and sat on the blanket. Khalil settled next to her. The sunlight illuminated the left side of his face, and she found herself looking at the faint scar on his cheek.
She’d seen it before, of course. It was one of the first things she’d noticed abo
ut him. That and the fact that he was impossibly good-looking. A handsome prince, although in this case, both descriptions were accurate.
“Tell me about your scar,” she said impulsively as she reached out and touched the faint, thin line. “Unless you’d rather not talk about it.”
Khalil poured coffee and handed her a mug. “There’s not much to talk about. I was young and foolish.” He shrugged. “I was fifteen and fencing with a friend. We both thought that we were the best ever, perhaps invincible, and it was a competition to determine victor of the world.”
“I didn’t think people got hurt fencing.”
“They’re not supposed to. A protective tip covers the point. But as I said, we were young and stupid and didn’t bother with precautions. The duel was intense, and he managed to cut me on the face.”
He stared out at the horizon. “How strange. I haven’t thought of the incident in years, and now it’s come up twice in just a few weeks. My grandmother reminded me of it shortly after you arrived.”
“Why?”
“Because of you,” he said, although his answer made no sense.
“There was a lot of blood,” he continued before she could ask more questions. “I started yelling. The king and the fencing master came running. I told them both what my friend had done, and in a burst of uncontrolled anger, I swore I never wanted to see him again. I was rushed to the hospital. I was frightened and in a lot of pain, although I wouldn’t admit either to anyone.”
Dora touched his arm. “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
“I’m fine,” he told her. “In a few hours I’d had stitches and was resting comfortably. I had time to regret my harsh words to my friend, and I told my father that I wanted to see him.”
His mouth twisted into a grim line. “But a prince had spoken, and a prince was to be obeyed. My friend had been sent over the mountains to stay with family until I recovered and sent for him again. But there was a car accident, and he was killed on the way. I never saw him again.”
Dora stared at him, not sure what she was supposed to say. “Sometimes I feel as if we’ve never even lived on the same planet. How am I supposed to relate to your life?”
“You can’t. But you can deal with the man who has lived it.” He turned to face her. “Is that so difficult for you to imagine?”
“No.”
They were suddenly sitting too close. Or had they always been next to each other and had she just now noticed? The air seemed to grow hotter by the second. Khalil shifted until he had his arm around her, and his mouth was inches from hers.
“Kiss me,” he demanded.
She stared at him. “I can’t.” Maybe she’d picked a dumb hill on which to die, but this was the last barrier she had in place against the handsome prince who wanted to steal her soul.
“You won’t. There’s a difference. Stubborn fool. When you have my children playing around your feet will you still deny me?”
She turned away so he wouldn’t see the panic in her eyes. Children. Dear Lord, she had done her best not to think about getting pregnant. At the rate they were making love, it was just a matter of time. Khalil was a vigorous lover who visited her more nights than not. She wasn’t on any kind of birth control and as a princess in El Bahar, she couldn’t exactly walk into the local drugstore and buy condoms.
She’d thought about going to Fatima, but although she and Khalil’s grandmother had made peace, Dora doubted that Fatima would approve of preventing a pregnancy.
Even though they were sitting in the middle of a desert, Dora suddenly felt as if invisible walls had started to close in around her. She was cold and hot at the same time. She didn’t know how to handle this situation.
“We should head back,” she said quickly, trying to pull away from him.
Khalil didn’t release his hold on her. “Not yet. Stay a little while.”
She pressed her lips together. In this mood, when he was caring and conciliatory, it was impossible to resist him.
“Sweet Dora, you are my wife. Why is it so difficult to do as I request?” He sighed. “You are stubborn and infuriating, yet I can’t imagine going an entire day without seeing you. I have told the king I will no longer travel without you.”
Dora stared at him. Unable to help herself, she reached up and touched the thin scar on his left cheek. His eyes were large and dark and filled with an emotion she’d never seen before. Affection perhaps? Vulnerability? Was it possible that Khalil was changing?
She knew what she wanted. In her heart of hearts, she wanted it all—the fantasy and the fairy tale. She wanted her husband to fall in love with her, most likely because she was in love with him. She wanted a real marriage, not this battle of wills they’d somehow created. Yet as much as she wanted to give in, she believed with every beat of her heart that if she didn’t stand firm on this issue that he would grow complacent. He had to understand that he couldn’t play with her emotions. He had to learn that what he’d done was wrong.
“Kiss me.”
His words were a request, not a demand, and she found herself unable to deny him. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to be close to him, to feel his body next to hers. This was her husband, and it hurt her to deny him. But deny him she must.
Then she again touched the scar on his face. The thin ridge reminded her that Khalil had admitted to making a mistake. Was that his own arrogant, twisted way of telling her there were other words he regretted?
She studied his face, the handsome lines, the set of his mouth. Who was this man she’d married? What did she know of the depths of his soul?
And then she pressed her mouth to his. Not because he’d asked, but because he’d shared a bit of his life with her. Because he’d compromised just a little. And mostly because she needed to feel his hot passion fueling her own.
She slipped her hand into his hair and felt the cool strands slipping against her skin. She leaned into him, wanting to be closer, yet not actually pressing against him. She kept her mouth closed, her kiss chaste, yet she felt the difference in both of them as she gave herself willingly to him.
She rested her free hand on his shoulder, then slowly parted her lips. When he didn’t respond, she brushed her tongue against his lower lip and when he opened for her, she entered his mouth. At the first touch of her tongue against his, he shuddered. As if contact was more than he could stand—as if this surrender of hers was more than he could stand.
She braced herself for his assault, but Khalil did not attack, or even try to make love with her. Instead he broke the kiss. When he pulled back he cupped her face and stared at her.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and controlled.
She waited, but there were no smart comments, no claims of victory. Instead he pulled her to her feet and helped her onto her horse. They rode back to the palace in silence. Once there, he swept inside without saying a word.
“I’m not discounting all that your majesty has already done,” Dora said patiently. “However, the job isn’t complete. We have more work to do.”
Fire flashed in her eyes, and color stained her cheeks. She looked passionate and committed, and it was all Khalil could do to stay in his seat and listen quietly. What he wanted was to jump to his feet and publicly claim this woman as his. He wanted to drag her off to his rooms and make love with her for the rest of the afternoon.
But he didn’t. For one thing, Dora, his brothers and he were having a working lunch with the king, and Khalil didn’t think that any of them would appreciate his impulsiveness. Well, Dora might, but she would never admit it. Another reason to resist was that his most stubborn wife continued to sleep in her own quarters, across the palace from his. Despite that lone kiss the previous week, she had not willingly come to him and initiated their lovemaking. She frustrated him until he was sorry they’d been at peace with their neighbors for so many generations. He was in the mood to go to war.
Instead he sat quietly while his wife argued with hi
s father. It was the king’s fault. Givon had been the one to set up the brief tour of the country for Dora. She’d spent three days this week visiting nearby towns and villages, and each night she’d returned home filled with ideas.
“The colleges are open to all,” the king said and took a spoonful of sorbet. “Even the women.”
“Yes, and how much they appreciate your forward thinking.”
Her voice was calm, but Khalil caught the faint note of sarcasm in her tone. She was beautiful when she was inspired, he thought suddenly. How had he not noticed that before? When they’d first met, he’d barely seen her. Then they’d married so quickly, and he’d been angry and confused about all that happened. There was also the matter of her resistance. Yet despite it all, or perhaps because of it, he’d grown to see the real woman who was Dora Khan, princess of El Bahar, and he knew that she was a jewel. That he’d stumbled upon her under what were at the very least unusual circumstances only made him treasure her more.
“King Givon,” she said, pushing her dessert aside and leaning forward. “Opening the colleges to women isn’t enough. Despite the advances made during your glorious rule, many families still believe it is a waste to educate a woman. They don’t bother to send them to more than a half dozen years of school, and most only receive that much because your government has made it the law. There are hundreds of bright and articulate females out there, and their potential is going to waste.”
The king raised his bushy, graying eyebrows. “They marry, they produce children. That is not a waste.”
“Oh, I agree completely. If you’re saying that your people are El Bahar’s greatest resource.”
Khalil watched as his father considered Dora’s words. Khalil saw the trap at once, but he had the advantage of knowing his wife’s agile mind. The king was not so fortunate.
“Of course. They are our future.”
“If that is your belief, then I don’t understand your willingness to ignore and waste nearly fifty percent of the resources available to you. Educated women can still marry and have many children, but uneducated ones can do little to improve technology or teach in the schools, or become doctors and lawyers and entrepreneurs.”
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