Page 24 of Desert King's Forbidden Temptation

It had to be enough. ‘Okay.’ Her voice was throaty, the two syllables a commitment to something that terrified and excited her in equal measure. ‘But...erm...how exactly do I...?’ She gestured to the horse. Where Tariq had made it look easy to dismount from the beast’s back, she had no idea how to climb up. She noted there was no saddle nor stirrups.

‘May I?’

She tilted her face to his, seeing the way he was looking at her, gesturing to her waist.

She had his word that nothing would happen between them. She had to trust that. She jerked her head in agreement.

She’dagreed, but she wasn’tpreparedfor the feeling of his hands—broad, strong, capable and confident—wrapping around her sides, holding her steady, lifting her easily, as though she weighed nothing, onto the back of the magnificent beast. And there was no other way to describe the horse, who stood strong and steady as she was placed at the base of his neck. Her hands instinctively sought his neck, patting him, and a moment later, the powerful frame of Sheikh Tariq was at her back, his arms wrapped around her to secure the reins, his face so close to the back of her head that when he spoke it was as though the words were caressing her.

‘Are you ready?’

No. She was terrified, as though she were stepping into the fires of hell. How much she wanted him made her want to throw all caution to the wind, to turn around and kiss him, to plunder his mouth as he had hers, to allow her body to answer the siren call of longing that had overtaken her almost from the first moment they’d met. But Elana was at the forefront of her mind, and what she owed her friend, and so she nodded curtly, keeping her gaze focused on the horizon.

‘Then let’s go.’ He kicked the horse’s side and the beast responded immediately. There was no opportunity to speak then. Though the horse moved more slowly than he had earlier, when only Tariq was on his back, it was still fast, the hooves cutting over grass first and then, the open field beyond the structured gardens of the palace. It took several minutes before Eloise properly exhaled. She wasn’t afraid. She was exhilarated, but she was also intimately aware of every single movement Tariq made, even the subtle way he pulled on the reins to control his horse, or the way his legs moved at her sides, and the way his chest was at her back, framing her, keeping her safe. Protecting her.

She’d never been protected by a single soul in her life. Even her parents hadn’t taken care of her. It was impossible not to feel a little in awe of this man, and the way he held her close, ensuring no harm would befall her.

Impossible not to feel a little addicted to that, even when she accepted this couldn’t last.

Before she knew it, the grass gave way to sand, crisp and white and she imagined warm underfoot from the full day’s sunshine, but the horse rode on, faster now, as if he had a destination in mind and wanted to get there as quickly as possible.

She shivered and perhaps Tariq felt it, or mistook it for fear, because one hand left the reins to clamp around her middle, pinning her back against him, offering extra protection and safety. Only it wasn’t safer. Being held by him like this only made her aware of him in a far more visceral way, bringing memories back to mind of the way they’d kissed, of how good it had felt to be held by him.

She bit down on her lip, focusing straight ahead, trying to keep her brain occupied rather than allowing it to slide into a full-blown reflection of that kiss. That mistake.

The desert sands stretched so far ahead that she wondered when the horse was going to turn around. She couldn’t say how long they rode in one direction before a rocky outcrop loomed in front of them. It was very nearly night now, the stars brighter overhead, the sky a translucent grey, and the rocks were imposing and unmistakable. When the horse slowed, her ears adjusted to the lack of noise, only to recognise another sound. Running water.

‘Where are we?’

He released his grip on her stomach and jumped off the horse, before reaching up and lifting her down. ‘I used to come here often as a child.’

‘On your own?’

‘Not at first,’ he said, eyes shifting to hers. ‘My father would bring me.’ There was another heavy silence, and she knew there was something he wasn’t telling her, something he was weighing in his mind, and so she stayed quiet, curious, but determined not to push him.

‘As a young boy, I had night terrors. Vivid, terrifying dreams that would wake me in a cold sweat. I’d scream until my lungs burned. Coming here was the only thing that could calm me.’

She looked up at him, surprised. ‘I can’t imagine you being afraid of anything.’

‘Everyone has fears,’ he said, gesturing to the rocks in front of them. She recalled what he’d said, just minutes earlier.There is something I have learned about fears. The feeling of overcoming them is like nothing else.

She glanced to the horse. ‘Do you need to tether him?’

‘He will wait for me here.’

‘So confident?’

He lifted his shoulders. ‘Of course.’

‘Because we’re quite far away from the palace, Your Highness. If he bolts, I don’t particularly want to stay here all night.’

‘It is actually a very pleasant place to sleep.’

‘You camp here too?’

‘On occasion.’

It only cemented the impression she had of this man: that he was so thoroughly of this land, born of it, destined to rule it. ‘How does that work?’

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