Page 35 of Desert King's Forbidden Temptation

Her heart trembled. Danger felt imminent. ‘You can speak to me,’ she said, trying desperately to keep her voice casual. ‘That’s also part of my job, remember? Now, why don’t you show me this palace so I can tell you if Elana will like it.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

THEREWASNOTHINGabout the palacenotto like. While it was grand and beautiful and very old, it was also smaller than the palace in the capital city, and somehow felt more conducive to family living. There were gardens and swimming pools and the view of the city was quite stunning, so she could easily imagine the joy of living in such a home, of taking children out into the ancient city for ice cream and treats, to exploring the markets they’d driven past, with the enormous spice towers. Of course, it wouldn’t be her experiencing any of that, but Eloise knew her best friend well enough to know that Elana would love living here as much as Eloise would have.

The day progressed, and Eloise, left to her own devices for much of it, felt a strange tiredness overtaking her. The heat, she imagined. She stifled a yawn and then, when half an hour later there was still no sign of Tariq, asked one of the women who’d been assigned to guide her if there was a sitting room she could use, to have some iced tea and take a break.

She was immediately shown to a delightful parlour with sumptuous furnishings and large windows with golden shutters that showed a view all the way into the city. She sat herself down and inhaled, spice and history filling her soul.

Sometime after enjoying a tray of refreshments, with Tariq still not in evidence, she kicked off her shoes then lifted her feet onto the sofa, and pressed her head to the armrest, intending only to close her eyes for a moment. Except her dreams had been so tormented of late, sleep such a difficult commodity to come by, that she fell into slumber, a dreamless, heavy repose, that lasted until the sun was low in the sky and the night birds began to sing.

Tariq found her fast asleep. He dismissed his servants immediately, stepping into the room and clicking the door shut silently, staring at her from across the room with a growing sense of unease in his gut.

Their situation was precarious and they both knew that.

Asleep like this though, it was easy to fantasise about waking her with a kiss, about pulling back the threads of her dreams with his body. His nostrils flared and he crossed his arms, needing to dismiss those thoughts. Too much was riding on his marriage to Elana to engage these fantasies.

She was just a woman, like any woman he’d met.

That wasn’t true and he knew it, even as he forced the rhetoric down his throat. But she couldn’t be more special to him than that. He had to marry Elana of Ras Sarat. He needed her royal bloodline to legitimise his right to rule Savisia. It was a pre-emptive strike against any future claim to the throne. And it was apparent thatanyclaim would hold more merit than his own, despite the legal rights adoption conferred on him. Were he an ordinary citizen that would be credible, but belonging to the royal family was different. In a country like Savisia, which prided itself on its royal family’s connection to the ancient bloodline of sheikhs, his presence would be an insult. He wasn’t even born of Savisian parents! Were there a worthy contender to replace him, he would have relinquished the role he wasn’t sure he deserved, but those who might seek power for themselves were hardly the sort who should possess it, and in this case, there was only a distant cousin, a man who was of questionable enough character for Tariq to know that abdicating wasn’t the right option for the people of Savisia.

He had to do what was right. He owed his father that much, his mother too, and his people. He would continue to do his duty, to marry a princess, so that his own children would grow up free from this sense of illegitimacy.

Hardening his resolve, ignoring a burning need for Eloise that was overtaking him, he walked to the sofa and pressed a hand to her shoulder, intending only to wake her.

But she shifted, and his hand slipped, moving from her shoulder to the top of her breast, and he froze. His limb was no longer within his control. His fingers sat there, lightly against her flesh but feeling the gentle swell of her and almost igniting.

She blinked her eyes open, confused at first and then smiling, welcoming him with that look she had, so he ground his teeth, wanting her and knowing he couldn’t have her, his body completely at war with his mind.

‘Hello, Your Highness,’ she murmured, and her voice was so lightly flirtatious, without the heaviness that accompanied them always, as both worked to deny their instincts, that he knew she’d forgotten all the reasons they couldn’t act on these feelings. She’d been dreaming, perhaps even dreaming of him.

He was at a crossroads. Honour pulled him in one direction, clearly dictating that he should step back and speak firmly, but desire drew him in another, skittering all of his very best intentions... Curiosity pushed his finger higher, to the pulse point at the base of her neck. He held his fingers there a moment, eyes on hers, watching for a signal, no matter how small, that she didn’t want him to touch her.

She blinked languidly and stretched a little. Was she fully awake? Or did she believe this too was a dream?

‘How did you sleep?’ Her pulse thundered beneath his touch.

‘I was tired.’ She stretched again and then, as his fingers trailed along her collarbone, towards the lower part of her neck, she startled and sat up, knocking his hand free in the motion, face pale.

He dropped his hand to his side, staring down at her, waiting for her to say something next.

‘I didn’t mean to sleep,’ she said quietly, eyes fixed on the carpet at their feet. ‘It’s the heat, I think.’

‘It’s been a long day. My meetings were not as easily concluded as I thought. I hope you weren’t bored?’

‘Not at all.’ They were being so polite; it infuriated him. She moved to stand, carefully keeping at least a metre of space between them. ‘I’ve enjoyed touring the palace. It’s beautiful.’ She paused, eyes washing over him a moment then landing on the carpet again. ‘Elana would love it here.’

He wanted to tell her Elana could go to hell, but the truth was, that wasn’t the case. He needed this marriage to the Princess. Besides, he suspected Elana’s best friend wouldn’t exactly appreciate the sentiment, no matter how much they desired one another.

‘Are you ready to leave?’

Her gaze lifted to his again. ‘Already?’ She squeezed her eyes shut, as if regretting the word.

He understood her sentiment, and an idea he’d already dismissed as ill-conceived latched in his mind, demanding his indulgence. ‘Not back to the palace,’ he said quietly. ‘There’s something else I’d like to show you first.’

There was wariness in her features. ‘For Elana?’

He dipped his head once, when the truth was, this was his own personal place, somewhere he wanted to show Eloise, because he wantedherto see it. This was nothing to do with the Princess he knew he had to marry.

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