“Oh.” She nodded, toying with her earring. “I don’t think that would work.”
“So? What’s the worst that can happen? Someone recognises you and we leave.”
“I told you, I’d get mobbed.”
“I’ll be there.”
“You’d get mobbed, too.”
Ash grinned. “You don’t think I could protect you?”
Charlotte was warm with need. She bit down on her lip. “I’m not afraid my people would want to hurt me. Just that they’d overwhelm us, if they recognised me.”
He lifted a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Try to get past me.”
She froze, staring at his frame with new attention. He was so gorgeous. So big and strong and handsome and virile. “No,” she muttered, dragging her gaze to the view of the boats.
“I mean it. Try to move me.” Ash had come to understand how determined Charlotte was. “Unless you think you wouldn’t be able to,” he teased.
She turned her face to his, scanning him slowly. “I know I wouldn’t be able to.”
“Too afraid to try?” He taunted and she balled her hands by her side.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Why? I’m auditioning for the part of your bodyguard. So let me show you how qualified I am.”
The challenge in his dare wasn’t what it appeared. Charlotte read beyond it. He was daring her to touch him. To pit her strength against his. To be near him. He was inviting her to touch. It was madness. A madness that had gripped them both. Obviously she should have laughed and refused. He wouldn’t keep inviting this destructive idea. But that thought alone spurred her forward. She lifted her hands, pushing them at his chest. It was a hard chest. As firm to touch as she’d imagined it would be.
He didn’t budge. Her body was close to his now. The thickness of his arms, crossed over his front, kept her from touching him. She reached for them and pulled at them, trying to unhook them from his chest.
It was as if they were glued.
She made a sound of annoyance and walked behind him, reaching around him, wrapping him in a hug that finally gave her body what it had been craving – closeness – and tried to unhook them that way.
Charlotte was strong.
She had always been an active child, and that had grown into an athleticism she indulged as a woman. She played tennis, golf, ran, rock-climbed, hiked. But none of those skills made it any easier to deal with Ashad Al’Eba. She used her knees to press against the backs of his, trying to make him weaken. He didn’t.
He shifted though, dropping his arms and spinning on the spot, suddenly, instantly. His hands caught her wrists and he dragged them behind her back, staring down at her from his greater height, every cell in his body tight and alert.
Charlotte’s breath was dragged from her. Fire burned her lungs, making breathing almost impossible. “Fine. You’re strong,” she said, the words stilted.
His eyes clashed with hers. Heat, strength, need, fear flew from one to the other. He pushed her backwards, pinning her body against the wall and covering hers with his own frame. “Not strong enough,” he muttered, dropping his head. “Not with you.”
His mouth was angry when it clashed with hers. Fierce and possessive, it crushed her, demanding her submission even when she had no intention of offering a challenge. She moaned softly, every sense in her body overrun by a need that had taken away every bit of her common sense.
Of their own volition, her hands lifted and tangled in his dark, thick hair, teasing the nape of his neck, holding him where he was. Her mouth opened to his in complete surrender. His tongue duelled with hers, imprisoning it, demanding free reign of her mouth. And his body. Oh, his body. Hard, hot, firm, it held her tight to the wall, making movement impossible, even if she’d wished it. Her senses were in overdrive. Adrenalin spiked her blood and desire pushed moist heat between her legs.
“Ashad,” she groaned into his mouth, her hands tightening on his hair.
She wanted him.
She wanted him, to hell with the consequences. “Please,” she whimpered, dropping her hands to the fabric of his shirt and bunching in its softness. “I need this,” she breathed into his mouth, the ferocious intensity of his kiss making it almost impossible to get the words out.
He froze, lifting his head without moving his body. He stared down at her as though she had morphed into someone else entirely. The perplexity in his face was echoed in her heart.
“You need this?” He repeated, his breath coming in quick rushes, pushing warmth against her temple. He swore angrily but didn’t move away. His body, so close to hers, was the strength she needed. She kept her hands balled in his shirt, but she wanted to remove it.
Reality, though, was at the edges of her mind, forcing its way through her foggy desire. “What are we doing?” She forced her eyes to hold his even when confusion made her want to run and hide.
“Nothing. We aren’t doing anything.” He moved away from her. “What we just did was a mistake.” Sleep with her, cousin. That would solve all our problems… Ash cringed to think of Syed’s suggestion. If he did just that, what next? Would he then reveal the unsavoury, private detail to his cousin and uncle to relieve Syed of the burden of marrying Charlotte? And where did that leave his cousin’s betrothed? Word would spread – it always did – and her family would learn of what they’d shared.
Too much was at stake.
He pushed backwards, a muscle jerking in his jaw. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. That was my fault.”
She closed her eyes, so that her thick black lashes formed a curtain of darkness on her face. “No. I wanted you to kiss me.” She swallowed, unable to look at him, but knowing she needed to express what was in her heart. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since I saw you yesterday.”
She heard his sharp intake of breath. “Charlotte.”
“I know. It’s wrong. You’re here to arrange my marriage, to your cousin, of all people, and all I can think about…”
“Don’t say it,” he groaned, his voice deep, the words choked from him. “It complicates matters.”
“That’s an understatement.” She opened her eyes, catching him in the middle of staring at her face. Her heart flipped.
“Let’s finish the marriage contract,” he murmured, already planning the call he was going to place to Syed as soon as he could. A call in which he would declare he had no intention of being involved in arranging this damned marriage. A life loomed ahead of him, a life in which he had to watch Charlotte and Syed together. And Syed would fall in love with her. Of course he would. How could he not? Once he actually resigned himself to the marriage, he would see that Charlotte was everything he’d been waiting for.
“Seriously?” She lifted her fingers to her lips, and she could still feel his touch.
“What would you prefer to do, Charlotte?”
Her smile was a lesson in courage. “I think the answer to that would get us both in trouble.”
* * *
The sun was setting, striking brilliant mauves and reds through the sky. She was immobile, her knees curled under her chin, her head tilted to one side, studying the sky as old witches in the city read tea leaves, as though she could intuit some meaning from the sensational display being played out before her.
This time of day had always been her favourite. When the day was bowing to the night, whispering surrender and promises of reunion. She liked to think of day and night as two star crossed lovers who spun around the earth, constantly seeking one another, being granted beautiful, fleeting moments at the beginning and ends of the day.
And on this day their meeting was as fiery as it was memorable.
Like their kiss had been. She moaned softly as she remembered his body, heavy and hard against hers, pinning her to the wall. Every childish imagining about sex and men fell away. The one time she’d shared her body with a man had been awful. Mainly because she hadn’t shared it by choice; he had taken what he’d known she wouldn’t give and she wonde
red if it had ruined her sexuality for life.
Now, she knew that wasn’t true. The moment Ash had kissed her, fireworks had exploded in her skull.
If just his kiss and touch could rival the sunset’s power, what in the world would it be like to sleep with him?
Guilt made her cheeks glow.
Was she seriously fantasising about having sex with her fiancé’s cousin?
And was she really going to go through with marriage to a man who was related to Ashad?
She thought of what that life would be like. Syed Al’Eba was handsome – she’d seen his photographs. But when they’d met, briefly, in the past, she’d felt nothing. Not a hint of the passionate hunger that was shredding her.
Was Ashad thinking of her now?
Even hours later, as day gave way to night, was the strength of that one kiss driving him wild with unfulfilled need?
Or had he shelved his desire easily, because of the duty he owed his cousin?
“Darling?”
Charlotte startled, her eyes widening at the unexpected intrusion. “Mum?”
“There you are. Why don’t you put on a light? It’s dark in here.”
“I’m watching the sunset,” Charlotte said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“You and your sunsets!” Eloise Shareef strode into the room, her slender frame silhouetted against the dusky sky. “How did your meeting go?”
Charlotte’s eyes moved betrayingly to the table and Eloise’s gaze followed.
“Ah! Contracts. Good. Is he being fair?”
His chin had been stubbled. It had rubbed against her own, and she’d instantly imagined it on her naked breasts, her stomach, lower still. A shiver made her swallow and she stood. “Yes.”
“Is he nice?”
“Yes.” Nice? Such a bland term. He was many things beyond that. Things that made her toes curl.
“It was such a shame, that business with his parents. And he, such a young boy.”
Charlotte froze. In the midst of her bone-melting desire for Ashad she’d completely forgotten that he was a victim of their civil war. “It was a terrorist attack, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Suicide bombers. Cowards.”
A shiver ran down Charlotte’s spine. “That’s so sad.”
“Mmmm.” Eloise had moved on. “I have decided to throw a ball for him. A masquerade.”
Charlotte froze. “Why in the world would you do that?”
“He is an esteemed guest from Kalastan, and he is young and eligible. You are not the only high ranking daughter looking for a husband.”
The idea of her mother auctioning off Ashad to young women of the parliament made Charlotte queasy.
“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” she mumbled.
“Of course it is. We are famed for our entertainment. It’s short notice, but I will arrange it for Friday evening. Everyone will be invited!”
“Oh, mama,” Charlotte shook her head. “Really, why draw attention to this? He’s here to finalise the details of my wedding, that’s all.”
“And he’s doing that! Why can’t he have a little fun too?” Eloise paused, her beautiful face lined with doubt. “In any event, I don’t know why you are troubling yourself with all the details for your marriage. Your father and his lawyers were prepared to arrange everything.”
“But then I wouldn’t know I was making the right decision.”
Eloise’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “The decision was made many years ago, dearest.”
She was drowning again. Suffocating. The tide was high, and she couldn’t see land. “Still,” Charlotte said with the appearance of calm. “I know you wouldn’t want me to marry if the terms weren’t favourable.”
“What could be unfavourable about marriage to Syed Al’Eba? He is rich. Kind. Good looking. Young. Virile. He will make you happy.”
“Did you just describe my fiancé as virile? I have to tell you, that makes me feel just a little bit sick, mama.”
“Why should it? You are a woman, I am a woman. You have been through something that might make you cautious to approach your marriage bed…”
“Okay, moving on,” Charlotte shook her head quickly, changing the subject. “What are you doing here?”
Eloise tsked her disapproval. “Is that any way to speak to the woman who brought you to this earth?”
Charlotte lifted a brow, waiting for an explanation.
“I was shopping. And I wanted to check on progress.”
“It’s coming along,” Charlotte said honestly. But the thought of meeting with Ashad again made her doubt the wisdom of tackling her own negotiations.
“You know, your father is counting on this marriage.” Had Eloise detected the doubts that now plagued Charlotte?
“Why?” She heard herself ask, surprised by how close she was to admitting that the reality of tying herself to Syed now filled her with dread.
“He is a good man!” Eloise enumerated. “His family is good. His country powerful. And the trade deals that come into play as part of your marriage will boost our economy in a way it badly needs. Billions will flow into our country as a result of this union. Billions that will go into schools, hospitals, orphanages. You know the worries your father carries. You can alleviate them, and so easily!” Eloise tilted her head, her eyes studying her daughter. “You are very beautiful, Cherie,” she reverted to her native French. “And this marriage will be a true gift to your father.”
Nausea rolled through Charlotte, but she nodded. The wars had been costly for all. The infrastructure of Falina had been damaged. And the trade agreements with Kalastan would change all that. “I know that, mama.”
“Good. Make it happen. Make it happen fast.” Eloise tilted her head to one side. “And don’t forget to tell Ashad about the ball, hmm?”
* * *
“What do you mean, you can’t find him?”
Zahir sighed. “Syed has disappeared. No one’s seen him for days.”
“What?” Ash stared out at the disappearing sun, watching as a trail of fire seemed to leak from it into the sky. “I need to talk to him.”
“His cell’s not answering.”
“Yes, I tried that first,” Ash suppressed his impatience. “Is he in the desert?”
“Probably,” Zahir murmured. “It is where he tends to go, isn’t it, when he has things on his mind.”
“He’s not the only one who needs to think things through.”
“Perhaps I can help,” Zahir offered. “What’s on your mind?”
Ash gripped the railing. “Why was Syed offered to Princess Charlotte Shareef?”
“When my betrothal was set aside, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“As opposed to …”
“Me.”
A long silence sat heavily between them. Finally, Zahir spoke. “It was my father’s wish that you would marry … no. That’s a lie.”
“What? What is a lie?”
“Your mother and father,” Zahir spoke heavily, and Ash could imagine him rubbing his chin, as he did when deep in thought. “Were very strongly opposed to arranged marriages. They argued for me, for Syed, for all of us, to be free of such a notion. They felt an older generation had no place using their children for political gain. My father has abided by their wishes, even though I’m certain he would have liked to marry you off many times over.”
Ash closed his eyes, thinking of his parents fondly. “My parents were right.” He thought of the night on Syed’s balcony, when his cousin had asked him to find a reason to break the betrothal. He had advocated the wisdom of arranged marriages. He had extolled their place in royal life, relying on the way things had been done, rather than examining how they ought to be done.
“Perhaps,” Zahir’s response was noncommittal.
“Meaning you don’t regret your marriage?” It was a sharp question, and a rude one. Ash immediately felt the insult in the words. “Ignore that,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
&n
bsp; “Of course.” Zahir accepted the apology instantly. But the words were still there. “I don’t regret my marriage. I fought it for a long time. I think that’s very natural. I despised the idea of being told whom I was to marry. I realise now that I fought too hard. I fought out of fear of what Violet meant to me. Sometimes it is necessary to trust to fate. Don’t you?”
Ash disconnected the call, his mind pondering the statement.
Fate.
It was a notion he had never really bought into.
And yet …
He thought of Charlotte and a sense of intense rightness filled him.
No, if it had been rightness, it would have been Ashad Al’Eba contracted to marry her, and not Syed.
Marry her? Is that what he wanted?
Ash stared at the sky as realisation after realisation pounded through him.
He wanted her. He wanted to own her, and for her to own him. He wanted her with an intensity he’d never experienced about anything. Was that fate at play? Was it fate that had led Syed to send Ashad to Falina?
And could he steal his cousin’s bride? Was it stealing, if Syed no longer wanted her? Or could he solve everyone’s problems by seducing Charlotte into his bed – and convincing her to swap her betrothal to him?
CHAPTER FIVE
Charlotte,
I have meetings in the morning. Are you free for lunch?
A.
She read the email several times, and the racing of her pulse didn’t lessen. She flopped back against her pillows and stared at the ceiling. It was late. Perhaps she could pretend she hadn’t seen it?
And what would that accomplish, her mind challenged angrily. It was simply delaying the inevitable. Lunch. With Ashad? Impossible.
I’m not. Sorry.
She cringed as she sent it, wishing she could recall the email the second it had whooshed out of her phone. But her emotions were rioting all over the place and she knew only one thing for certain: Ashad complicated things beyond bearing.
Make yourself available. My embassy, 12 o’clock.
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