Desert Justice

by Valerie Parv

  Rubbing her clammy hands against her galabia, she cursed herself. Following Bibi had been foolhardy. So many things could have gone wrong. What would she have done if Business Suit had grabbed her, instead of an interfering but well-meaning merchant? Assuming he was well-meaning.

  Rattled by the thought, she got up and tried the front door. Locked. Many of the shops in the souk closed for lunch. Breaking out seemed a bit extreme without evidence of a real threat, so she returned to the banquette and sat down, but not before placing one of the brass ornaments within grabbing distance to use as a weapon if needed.

  From the back of the shop and she heard the murmur of voices. She tensed as the door to the back of the shop opened, but it was only the carpet seller returning. A few seconds later, a young boy, his son she presumed, appeared with a brass teapot and tiny cups.

  As soon as he’d served the tea, the son disappeared and she guessed Nayan had sent the boy to alert the royal party. She investigated the huge variety of carpets, but they offered her no way out.

  She was cradling a second, equally unwelcome cup of tea when a hammering on the door jolted her host. Nayan sprang up and opened the door. Her heart sank when she saw Fayed standing there, with no sign of Yusef. Fayed hadn’t been with them during the morning. What was he doing here now?

  “Come, Sima,” he ordered without preamble.

  She got to her feet. “Good to see you again too, Fayed.”

  Her sarcasm was wasted on the giant. “Sheikh Markaz ordered me to bring you to him at once.”

  “How did he know where to find me?”

  “Your absence caused enough concern for it to be reported to His Highness.”

  She hadn’t anticipated that. “I can take care of myself.”

  Fayed shot her a withering look. “So I see.”

  “I was in good hands with Nayan. He sent his son to tell Princess Norah where I am.”

  The bodyguard barely glanced at the other man. “You should not have wandered away from the others.”

  Tempted to stand up for her right to go where she pleased, she remembered barely in time who she was supposed to be and why. This must be how Bibi felt at being ordered not to see her young lover, she thought. Under Fayed’s stern gaze, Simone felt as if she were Bibi’s age.

  Her mood didn’t improve when Fayed hustled her out of Nayan’s shop as if she’d caused more trouble than she was worth. “You could at least have thanked the man for his kindness,” she snapped.

  Fayed’s stony gaze didn’t soften. “We must not keep Sheikh Markaz waiting.”

  Oh, she wouldn’t keep him waiting, she resolved. As soon as they were alone, she’d tell Markaz exactly what she thought of being treated so peremptorily. She might be hiding in his harem but that didn’t mean she’d abandoned her rights.

  She had expected to be taken to Princess Norah and the other women. Instead, Fayed led her to a car waiting outside the souk. “Won’t the others wonder where I went?” she asked when they were heading along the road leading to the lodge. The bodyguard had taken his usual seat up front beside the driver, but had left the privacy screen open as if fearing she’d jump out at the first opportunity.

  When Fayed didn’t answer, she sat back fuming. If Markaz had ordered Fayed to bring him her head on a platter, would he have done that, too? She decided she didn’t want to know. Her hope that Yusef would be sent to escort her back to the group had come to nothing. Now she had no idea when she would be able to talk with the guard on his own.

  By the time they reached the lodge, her temper was at flashpoint. “I’m dusty and disheveled. I can’t possibly appear before the sheikh in this condition,” she snapped when Fayed tried to urge her in the direction of the sheikh’s courtroom.

  The giant didn’t argue. He merely hefted her over his shoulder and carried her through the halls, ignoring her futile squirming and angry protests. A few minutes later, he dumped her outside the courtroom as if she were the day’s laundry. “His Highness is waiting for you,” he rumbled.

  Restoring her clothes and her dignity as much as possible, she lifted her head. “When I tell Markaz about this, he’ll probably have you flogged.”

  The last thing she heard as the huge double doors closed behind her was the low rumble of the giant’s laughter.

  Markaz wasn’t laughing, she saw as she stalked to the low dais where he’d held court. His expression was thunderous, making her quail inwardly although she kept her head high. Her face was hot from being carried over Fayed’s shoulder, not from confronting the sheikh, she assured herself.

  The hall was empty now, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor. Good. What she intended to say to Markaz was probably better not said in front of others.

  “I must protest Fayed’s high-handed treatment,” she said when she was close enough to speak normally, although she was slightly amazed that she still could.

  Markaz held up a hand. “Stop there.”

  He’d indicated the place where applicants to the majlis stood to state their concerns. Surely he didn’t see her in that role? Defiantly she took a few steps closer. “With respect, I’m not one of your courtiers. That…that bodyguard of yours actually threw me over his shoulder and dropped me outside your door.”

  “He was acting on my instructions.”

  “I can’t believe you told him to treat me like a piece of lost property.”

  Markaz stood up, looming over her although the dais wasn’t high. “In my kingdom, you are property.”

  “I was right then. Despite paying lip service to reform, you aren’t in a hurry to change the law because it would limit your right to be a petty tyrant when it suits you.”

  With a swirl of robes he stepped down from the dais and came to within a heartbeat of her. “Is that how you see me, as a petty tyrant?”

  She drew herself up, her veil fluttering with the sudden shallowing of her breathing. “If the cap fits.”

  Anger warred with something else she couldn’t identify on his features. “You are the most impossible female I’ve ever had to deal with.”

  “Then don’t deal with me. Treat me as a normal human being with a mind of my own.”

  Some of his anger dissipated visibly, although his hands remained clenched at his sides, she saw. “I never doubted that you have a mind of your own.” Then he had to spoil things. “It’s common sense you seem to lack.”

  “Because I’m female?” she said with a defiance she was far from feeling. His closeness was eroding her anger, and what remained made her feel terrifyingly vulnerable.

  “Because you don’t seem to realize the risk you took by slipping away from the group.” Unclenching a hand, he lifted it to her face and released her veil. The gauze fluttered to one side.

  Her feeling of vulnerability increased, tempting her to replace the veil. Without it she felt as if he could see into her soul. “You were worried about me?”

  “I thought you’d been kidnapped.”

  Telling herself not to read more than concern in his expression, she nodded. “So did I when the carpet seller pulled me into his shop. But he was only making sure no harm came to me.”

  “What were you doing in that area in the first place?”

  Simone lowered her gaze. “The souk is confusing. It’s easy to lose your way.” Not exactly a lie, and she avoided betraying Bibi and Abdl.

  The sheikh’s hand came under her chin and he lifted her head so she couldn’t avoid his searching look. “There is so much between us, and still you will not tell me the truth.”

  Chapter 11

  The floor under her feet felt rocky suddenly. She addressed the only part of his assertion she could. “There’s nothing between us.” Nothing she would allow, anyway.

  “Another lie, Simone?”

  “A necessity.”

  She hadn’t meant to be so frank, although her mind resonated with the need. She couldn’t let herself feel what she felt when she was around him, but neither did she know how to stop. His presen
ce, his male scent, even his anger wove a web around her that threatened to tighten until she couldn’t think straight. Yet she must.

  Being in control of her life wasn’t just important to her, it was essential. She’d seen the consequence of her parents being driven out of their country and having to start over in a strange land. She had promised herself nothing like that would ever happen to her. Her life would be planned, orderly, and she would be in the driving seat no matter what.

  Nothing in her careful planning had anticipated Markaz.

  If she gave in to his attraction, she would have to consider following her parents’ path and pulling her life out by the roots, transplanting herself to a land as foreign to her as Australia had been to Sara and Ali. There could be no question of Markaz leaving Nazaar. He was Nazaar.

  As if unable to stop himself, he let his knuckles trail down her cheek. “There are many kinds of necessity.”

  She gestured around them, aware that her control hung by a thread. Somehow she had to fix that before she said or did something completely stupid. Like let his touch reduce her to jelly. She locked her knees to steady herself. “Your position being the biggest one.” Also the biggest obstacle between them.

  He heard what she hadn’t said. “I’m not always on duty.”

  “But you’re always on call. I watched you presiding over the majlis this morning. You had solutions for everybody’s problems.”

  “Except one.”

  Her curiosity flared. “Which one?”

  “What I should do about you. You drive me mad with wanting you, yet you have no respect for my authority.”

  “I do respect your authority,” she argued.

  He shook his head. “You see? You cannot resist challenging me at every turn.”

  She brushed aside the veil dangling down one side of her face. “Am I supposed to accept whatever you say because you’re the sheikh?”

  His laughter warmed her. “There’s no chance you’ll go that far. I would settle for you keeping your word. You promised you would not go off alone until the rebel threat is resolved.”

  “Getting lost isn’t the same as breaking a promise.”

  His fingers grasped her chin, forcing her to face him. “Dissembling again? Why can’t you admit you were helping Bibi to keep an assignation with Abdl?”

  “I wasn’t helping them.” Too late she realized she’d been maneuvered into admitting she knew about the teenagers’ meeting. “You know about that?”

  He nodded. “So you may as well tell me everything.”

  “I went after her to make sure she was all right.”

  “Were you worried she or Abdl might be the traitor?”

  Simone pulled away from him. “I’m convinced they’re not.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “If you’d seen them, you’d know the only thing driving them is love.”

  He crossed his arms. “As it happens, I agree with you. They are only foolish children. And proof of the dangerously stupid things an overrated emotion makes people do,” he growled.

  Was he talking about the teenagers or himself? She refused to think she had such an effect on Markaz, unless the responses tearing through her weren’t all on her side. She pushed the possibility away. “Don’t Nazaari poets say that to die in love is martyrdom?”

  “They also say love is a journey of the soul toward paradise,” he answered. “In my experience, a journey with too many hazards along the way.”

  “But you don’t deny the outcome?”

  His gaze fastened on her. “I agree there are sublime moments.”

  Her emotions jolted as she filled in the gaps. The journey would be in his bed with paradise the likely destination. She felt heat surge into her face and almost pulled the veil back into place as a gesture of self-protection.

  Instead, she resorted to words. “Why are we talking about love when the real issue between us is trust?”

  “I thought we were talking about sex.”

  Instead of shocking her, his bluntness fueled another jagged surge of desire. She tamped it down, not sure how successfully. “Neither is appropriate right now.”

  “Do you always behave appropriately?”

  If she had, Fayed wouldn’t have dragged her in here, she thought. “How did you know that Bibi was meeting Abdl?” she asked, attempting to change the subject.

  Markaz went to a side table and poured water into a glass from a carafe. When he offered her some, she shook her head. Her throat was dry and her head pounded, but water wasn’t the answer. What would make her feel better didn’t bear thinking about.

  He sipped the water. “They told me themselves. They heard you scream when you were pulled through the door. When Abdl couldn’t find you, he contacted Hamal who reported to me.”

  “Then it’s my fault they were discovered.”

  His expression hardened. “It’s their own fault. But their courage in helping you will be rewarded. I have arranged an engagement between them. A long engagement.”

  Pleased for the youngsters who had risked so much on her behalf, she asked, “Does that mean they can see each other openly?”

  “They will be under their parents’ supervision. Bibi is returning home and Abdl is going to work for her father in his business until they’re old enough to marry.”

  Simone flung her arms around his shoulders, almost spilling the water. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for them.” Then her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t arrange all that today.”

  He put the endangered glass down and grasped her arms, stopping her from pulling away. His dark gaze fastened on her. “I set the wheels in motion before we left Raisa. Despite what you evidently think, I do have a heart.”

  Her breath tangled. “I know.”

  “Then you know it’s racing right now.”

  She could feel the beat. Her own was keeping time. Fool, she told herself. Keeping her distance made more sense than throwing herself at him. Her joy on Bibi and Abdl’s behalf had only provided an excuse. She had wanted to be exactly where she was. What to do next was the problem.

  When she tried to step back, he held her in place. “I have yet to impose a penalty for breaking your word.”

  He was imposing one now, holding her close enough for his breath to whisper over her cheeks, his mouth within kissing distance. Sweet torture indeed. “What do you have in mind?” she asked, her voice barely functioning.

  “What would you suggest?”

  Her thoughts whirled and she said the first thing springing to mind. “Confine me to my room?”

  “I’d rather confine you to mine.”

  “Because of the danger I’m in from the rebels?” Great. Now she was stammering like a fool.

  His dark eyes gleamed. “Because of the danger you’re in from me.”

  “I don’t understand.” But she was all too sure she did.

  “From the moment I saw you at Al-Qasr, I felt a connection between us. The longer we’re together, the stronger the feeling becomes. Soon, I won’t be able to let you go at all.”

  “Then let me go now, while you still can. It’s what I want, too.” Would he recognize another lie?

  He shook his head. “We passed the point when I could willingly let you go the first time I kissed you. I knew then that you were becoming important to me.”

  Recognition dawned. “You don’t like it any more than I do.”

  He closed his eyes and opened them again. She almost recoiled from the anguish she read in their depths. “No, I don’t.” He sounded as if the admission were being dragged out of him. “One foreign wife who hated living here was enough. My next wife must love my country as I do, and provide the heirs to ensure future stability.”

  She couldn’t hide her own hurt. “You see, you do have the solution.”

  His hands flew to her arms and he pulled her closer. “This pleases you?”

  So close to him, feeling his body heat radiating through her, she could give only one response. “No
.”

  “It’s the sane, logical course of action. But around you I feel neither sane nor logical.”

  She could say the same for herself. “What are we going to do?”

  “Right now, there is only one thing I want to do.”

  His mouth found hers in a hot, hungry kiss that sent her senses reeling. The power of his passion hammered through her, and she arched against him. All thought of punishment fled. This was seduction, pure and simple.

  His hands stroked her back, slid lower to cup her bottom and pull her against him. Instantly she became aware of his arousal and her own soared.

  With an effort she forced her eyes open and the fog in her mind to recede. “This isn’t…we can’t…”

  His lips teased hers. “We can do anything we want.”

  She felt herself chill. “Perhaps you can, because of who you are. It isn’t so simple for me.”

  A few strands of hair had escaped her scarf and he brushed them out of her eyes. “This isn’t about my rights as the sheikh, only as a man.”

  “The man didn’t have me carried through the corridors and dumped at his feet.”

  “But he wanted to.”

  Markaz saw the shock freeze her into place. That made two of them, he thought. He hadn’t intended to voice the admission, but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—deny the truth. Hearing she’d been taken had so enraged him that he’d ordered everyone out of his sight while he regained control. Only years of royal discipline had stopped him from going after her himself. He’d told Fayed to bring her to him the instant they returned because Markaz had to see for himself that she was all right. As usual, Fayed had interpreted the order in his own way.

  The sheikh didn’t need any of this. Not the passion, the caring or the involvement that was wrong for himself and his country. But the man did. He needed to kiss Simone as desperately as a wanderer in the desert needs water to survive.

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers, feeling the jolt as she tried to pull away. “I can’t change what I am, but I am also more than my title.”