From One Night to Desert Queen

by Pippa Roscoe

  Star cut off that train of thought before it could take hold, turning instead to wonder if she should call Skye in Costa Rica. She was halfway through her time in Duratra and she was beginning to lose the confidence that she’d arrived with. She had only two days left and it was getting harder and harder to ignore the inner voice wanting to know what would happen if she didn’t find the necklace, and what that could mean for her mother. But if she admitted as much to Skye, she would only tell her to go home and Star wasn’t ready to hear that. She could call Summer in Norfolk, but she didn’t want to hear her sister’s gentle voice reassuring her that it was okay, that it had always been a long shot to send her to search for the necklace.

  Star drew air into her lungs to cover the hurt and turned in the bed onto her side, closing her eyes to see Kal’s staring back at her, eyes crinkled with the hint of that enigmatic smile and the light of...interest? Was that what she saw in his gaze? Was that what made her heart beat faster? What made her feel a little sick in her stomach at the thought of seeing him tomorrow, but feel even worse at the thought of not?

  Two days, she reminded herself, she had two days. Though this time when she delved into what it was that made her heart beat like specks of sand dropping through an hour glass, it wasn’t thoughts of Kal, but the fear of not finding the necklace.

  * * *

  After lunch in the courtyard, and after thoroughly reprimanding a slightly sceptical security detail, Khalif had surprised himself by managing to make some headway in the afternoon. He’d looked for her as he’d left the palace, but Wahed had informed him that Star had already left. Yet knowing that she’d be there the following day made him feel...as if he had something to look forward to.

  So it had been a shock to discover that the depth of his reaction to not seeing her the next day was nothing short of painful. A sense of panic had risen within him. Panic that he’d never see her again, never find out what she was looking for, never see the accidental chaos that seemed to follow in her wake, never feel that sense of inexplicable peace he’d found in her company... He’d caught himself looking down corridors, purposely walking past the security suite to see if the guards were watching her again. Tempted, so very tempted to ask if they had seen her.

  By the time he’d reached the afternoon of what he knew to be her last day at the exhibition, he’d convinced himself that such an extreme reaction indicated that it could only be a good thing that she was gone from his life. What did he think he could do if he saw her again anyway? Only that thought sent up a cascade of sensual imagery that he shut down before it could cut him off at the knees. He was no longer able to indulge in such whims. There was a plan. In three years, when he had proved himself the steady hand that would provide for his country until his nieces came of age, then a suitable bride would be found. And that suitable bride would not have flame-coloured hair and eyes so dark blue they were almost regal.

  So as he left his office that evening he was halfway through congratulating himself for having survived a temptation called Star when he came to an abrupt halt. The gods were either laughing or punishing him.

  Things might have been different if he had found her anywhere else in the palace. But Star had found the one spot that was sure to pack an emotional punch. The three steps looked deeply insignificant, and probably would have been to anyone else. But to Khalif they were painfully familiar.

  He had spent just over seven hundred hours waiting for his father and brother on those steps. Despite having been largely excluded from the lessons Faizan had been required to have from their father on matters ranging from governance and international policy to languages and business studies, he’d thought he could wait them out. And his stubborn streak had lasted for two hours, every day for an entire year.

  In that moment he knew what he should do—and what he shouldn’t. His Highness Sheikh Khalif Al Azhar walked on, past the security suite, through the exit of the palace and towards his evening appointment with Duratra’s council.

  Kal, however, stood before a beautiful woman and heaved a sigh of relief.

  ‘You know it all turned out okay in the end,’ he said as he stood between her and the sun, her body enshrouded by his shadow. She looked up at him with huge ocean-blue eyes. ‘That’s the problem with looking at the history of a country backwards. Really you should have started with the Umayyad period, it’s especially beautiful, given the metalwork and textiles.’

  The smile that spread across her features chased the watery sparkle from her eyes. ‘Perhaps you should have been my tour guide.’

  ‘I would have been honoured,’ he replied, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. ‘You are leaving?’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  ‘And you don’t want to go?’ he asked, wondering why that seemed to make her sad.

  Her smile wavered. ‘I want to see my sisters, and my mother, but... I didn’t find what I was looking for.’

  ‘Anything I can help with?’

  He would have sworn on his crown that he felt the weight of her sigh. ‘No, sadly not.’ And he would have given it away to lighten that load.

  ‘So, what are you going to do with your last few hours in Duratra?’

  The shrug that barely moved her shoulders an inch was enough to drive him to action. He liked the tumble and roll of her words, the way they wound through his mind, treading down a path to wherever they wanted to go.

  * * *

  All Star could think of was the necklace. She had genuinely thought that she’d find it, and to not have found a trace or clue as to where it might be was devastating. She had let her sisters down. And, worse than that, her mother... She felt a wave of hurt crash over her anew, breaking out in a hot sweat on her neck and down her spine. She’d just got off the phone with Summer. And she’d meant to tell her, intended to explain that she would be coming home empty-handed, but Summer had been full of excitement with the news that Skye had found the map.

  Star’s phone was full of the pictures Summer had forwarded with promises that she would work on the plans to find where on the map the Soames diamonds were located. And at the end she had asked, hopeful for the first time since Star had got on the plane to Duratra, whether she might have located the necklace. A hope that Star had been unable to respond to. She had proved them right—that she couldn’t be trusted to locate the necklace. How silly was she, to think that she could have done this alone?

  All she wanted to do was stop for a moment. To not have to think, or fear, or worry. And although Kal had extended an offer of sorts, she’d sensed how torn he was. He probably had something to rush off to. And she certainly didn’t want another person having to look out for her.

  ‘Is there anything you haven’t seen? That you wanted to?’

  ‘Well, I’ve spent all my time here, so—’

  ‘Wait, you’ve not seen anything of Burami?’ he demanded, full of not completely mock outrage that distracted her heart just a little. Perhaps for the evening, rather than being a daughter hoping to save her mother, she could just be a tourist on her last evening in Duratra?

  ‘Not unless it was between the hotel and the exhibition at the palace,’ she replied.

  ‘We can’t have that.’

  She couldn’t help but laugh at his conviction. ‘My flight is tomorrow—how much can you show me before then?’

  ‘I can show you it all.’

  He held out his hand and while she couldn’t explain it, was helpless even to resist, Star felt as if she were Alice about to fall down the rabbit hole.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HAVING BEEN PROMISED the opportunity to see Burami, Star was surprised when, instead of turning out towards the main road, Kal led her back to the palace. The surprise lasted only a moment. She was distracted by the way sparks flew from where his palm pressed against hers, encompassing it, making her feel comforted in a way just seconds ago she’d not thought possible.r />
  They came to a corner and Kal pulled up short before turning back to her, holding a finger to his lips.

  Star folded her own lips between her teeth, but still a smile pulled at the edges of her mouth. ‘Are we sneaking into the palace?’ she whispered to him.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, peering around the corner to see if the coast was clear.

  ‘You do this often?’ She couldn’t keep the laugh from her voice this time.

  He looked at her, eyes blazing with something a little more than humour. ‘More than you’d think,’ he replied cryptically and drew her back into the hallway.

  They’d made it about four feet towards the staircase Kal seemed to be heading for when they heard the hushed voices of two guards. Eyes wide and heart pounding in her chest, Star didn’t know whether to laugh or scream in fright. Either way she was pretty sure that she’d squeaked when Kal spun her round, pressing her back against a wall, arms braced either side of her head, and covered her with his body.

  Star wasn’t laughing now. They were staring at each other as if that alone would keep them invisible from the palace guards. This close, she could see that there were flecks of gold in the rich espresso depths of his eyes, she could almost taste the smoky sweetness of the breath that fanned gently against her skin. She dared herself to inhale the scent of him, woodsy, masculine, brought to her from the heat of his body. In her peripheral vision she could see the flicker of his pulse just beneath his jaw, and shockingly she wanted to place her palm there, to feel it beat in time with her own.

  His head dipped ever so slightly towards her, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly, his inhale expanding to close the space between their chests from inches to millimetres. Beneath the voices, she could hear footsteps coming closer and closer. She pressed into the wall as if that would make her and Kal invisible, adrenaline reaching deeper and deeper into her bloodstream. What would happen if they got caught? Her eyes flew to his, her mouth opening just slightly as if ready to ask the question when she felt the pad of his thumb against her lower lip, just as she’d once imagined doing to him. The gesture she was sure was intended to stop her words, not her heart, but that was the effect.

  She wanted to bite down on his thumb, to anchor it there before he could remove it and in an instant any fear was completely consumed by exhilaration. She’d never felt like it before. She could just hear the sound of footsteps over the pounding of her pulse in her ears, and she couldn’t resist courting danger.

  ‘Are we going to get into trouble?’ she whispered against the pad of his thumb, instantly gratified when she saw his pupils flare.

  ‘No,’ he whispered back with an arrogance that was utterly devastating.

  * * *

  The footsteps receded, and Khalif waited until there was complete silence in the corridor. Not because he couldn’t move, he sternly assured himself, but because he was waiting until the coast was clear.

  He walked on into the hallway, leading Star by the hand, his heart racing, half hoping someone would stop him, half hoping they wouldn’t. This was ridiculous. And certainly the first time he’d sneaked a woman into the palace rather than out of it.

  Four feet to the staircase. He could still change his mind. Could still turn back.

  Three feet. Her fingers tightened within his hold ever so slightly.

  Two feet and he cast one last look up and down the long hallway.

  One...

  They raced up the stairs as if the guards were still behind them, falling through the door and collapsing on the other side in half relief, half surprise as if they’d not actually expected to get that far.

  He watched as Star straightened and turned to look around at the room, wondering what she’d make of the large living space, lined with bookshelves on one side and a large television on the other. The sunken seating area was actually an illusion, the rest of the floor having been built up to allow for the cables and security measures fitted retrospectively to the ancient palace.

  ‘Are we in someone’s home?’ she asked as she looked between the open-plan kitchenette that he couldn’t remember using ever and the glass-fronted sliding doors that led to the balcony.

  ‘It’s okay, I know the owner,’ he replied, watching her walk towards the view he woke up to every morning.

  ‘I hope they’d be okay with this,’ she said as she reached the partly opened door.

  ‘They are,’ he assured her, but his answer was lost to her as she slipped through the narrow gap and out onto the stone balcony.

  He told himself he was giving her time. That it had nothing to do with having to get himself—who was he kidding?—his libido under control. He clenched his fists as if it would erase the feeling of her lip beneath his thumb, her between his arms, the ghost trace of her chest against his... Three years without sex might not kill a man, but one night without Star might just do it.

  No. This was for her. He’d seen how devastated she’d looked. Whatever had happened, or not happened, this was about ensuring that she didn’t leave with that look haunting her eyes. Instead, he reached for his phone, fired off a message to the palace staff asking for refreshments to be brought to his quarters, and another to Reza cancelling their meeting. He then purposefully put his phone on silent so as not to be subjected to the barrage of queries his oldest friend was sure to launch at him.

  Clenching his jaw and ordering himself to behave, Khalif made his way out onto the balcony. He loved the large, deep green palms potted either side of the doors. The ornate, detailed carvings in the red stone balcony were almost as familiar to him as his reflection. Off to the left was a cream awning, under which were a table and chairs, but he knew that Star had seen none of it, her gaze instead glued to the whole of the city stretched out before her, beneath a sky that was turning the beautiful deep blue of early night and littered with stars more dazzling than any diamond.

  ‘Burami?’ she asked him without looking away from it.

  ‘A very, very large part of it, yes.’

  It was absolutely the height of insanity to bring a woman to his palace quarters. It was something the old Khalif had never done. Had he deprived himself of so much that he was at risk of recklessness? And then he remembered the look in her eyes as she’d sat on the steps and knew that he’d have done it all over again just to see her eyes sparkle.

  He heard the soft click of his door, movement in the kitchen area that seemed to pass unnoticed by Star and the door closing once again. The last thing Khalif felt was hungry, but somehow it seemed fitting to serve Star food, when she had done the same for him. The memory of her basking in the sun sliced through him, competing with the dusk that surrounded them now and haunted his suite.

  He retrieved the platter of food and pitcher of the delicious apricot drink he thought Star would enjoy and returned to the balcony, stopping mid-stride. Star was still looking out at the desert, but her shawl had come loose and now hung from her shoulders, leaving her hair...

  Thick streams of long, lazily curling fire danced on the wind, a riot of golds, deep reds and every imaginable shade of umber, flooding his tongue with the taste of turmeric, paprika and cinnamon.

  She had removed her denim jacket and the long-sleeved top slashed across her neck, leaving her collarbone and delicate neck exposed to his desire. The blue cotton, regal and powerful, strong and bright enough to stand beside the glory of her hair, made him think of an ancient astrological chart he’d once seen, created from the deepest of blues and golds, rich with circles, lines, arrows and stars, all working to prove some mystical assertion.

  Mystical. That was what Star made him feel. And it hit him like a hammer, as if this moment was something they’d stolen from ancient gods. Something that was just for them.

  * * *

  Star felt him return to the balcony behind her. As if his presence had the power to pull at her like the tide. He was giving her the time she
needed. And she did need it. She was in the private rooms of a palace looking out at the desert. She’d had to pinch herself literally, she thought as she rubbed the pink flesh on her forearm, to know that this wasn’t a dream she’d conjured from her imagination.

  She knew that she should feel danger, or at least a very real sense of concern. She barely knew Kal, but that felt wrong. She didn’t feel as if he were a stranger. He was physically imposing, that was true, but, rather than making her scared, it made her want—want in a way that she’d only ever read about before. She had waited all her adult years to find someone who made her feel the things she’d only ever read about and she was leaving tomorrow.

  Star might be very used to daydreams, but she wasn’t naïve. She knew in reality that there was nothing past tomorrow for her, for them. But did that mean she should walk away from the possibility of what tonight held? She wanted to laugh at herself for being presumptuous, but... Her tongue ran over her lip, where his thumb had pressed so gently to such great effect. A tremor shivered over her skin and down her spine. Surely she wasn’t the only one affected by this?

  She turned, expecting to find him looking at her, having felt the burn of his gaze across her shoulders and back, but he was busy removing small plates from a tray, two glasses and a pitcher that was rich with condensation from the warm air, despite the dusk falling around them.

  ‘If you’d like something alcoholic...?’

  She smiled. ‘No, thank you. I’m afraid the Soames women cannot hold their drink.’ She reluctantly moved away from the balcony, fearing that she might search the rest of her life for something as beautiful as that view and never find it again.

  She slipped behind the table so that she faced the cityscape edged by golden sand that looked like slashes of an abstract painting. He offered her a small glass of the amar al din she was going to miss terribly when she returned to England. Her mouth watered in expectation of the sweet, cooling apricot drink, but that was a mere shadow of the explosion of taste that hit her tongue when she drew it to her lips and she was helpless to prevent the moan of sheer delight that fell into the air between them.