Page 48 of Desert King's Forbidden Temptation

‘The cavalry’s here,’ she murmured, casting a glance over her shoulder. But Tariq was already gone, moving towards the door, without a backwards glance.

The next day, still tired and a little stiff from the drive, she took her seat at the foot of the negotiation table, watching as Tariq, in the centre, listened to the advisors on both sides, nutting out details that had more to do with trade and financial agreements than it did marriage.

She looked at him more often than she should, willing him to look at her, willing him tosee her, but always, she was disappointed.

It was as though they’d never met.

As though she was any other member of the Ras Sarat delegation, and his treatment of her hurt like the devil.

The meeting stretched into the afternoon, and she sat through it all, switching off her mind and heart and forcing herself to take an almost out of body perspective on this, to act purely in Elana’s interests even when her heart was slamming into her and her stomach was in knots.

At one point, around four o’clock, she lifted a hand and absentmindedly kneaded the sore flesh at the back of her neck. Only then did Tariq turn to her swiftly, eyes narrowed, assessing the gesture, missing, as it turned out, nothing. Her hand dropped away quickly, her eyes fell to the table and her skin lifted in goosebumps. Blood flushed her body and her cheeks went a vibrant pink. For the rest of the meeting, she sat perfectly still, as though a magic wand had been waved, turning her to stone.

It had been a long day and Tariq was at the end of his patience.

He was doing the only thing he could, but ignoring her was a form of hell on earth. She hadn’t spoken. Not once. Not even when he’d craved the sound of her voice or wanted her input badly. She’d stayed resolutely silent, occasionally making notes or frowning as if she disagreed with an opinion that was being put forth, but not venturing a counter viewpoint of her own.

He’d felt hatred then. Not for Eloise, but for his family and his role in Savisia and the duty that was on him to marry someone royal, to have royal children quickly. Hatred for her loyalty to a friend he barely knew, hatred that she wouldn’t lower her scruples and enter into a short, wonderful, affair.

They both knew he would marry Elana, but why did that mean they couldn’t be together in the interim?

He knew the answer, of course he did, but his ego, his libido, weren’t satisfied by it. Nor was something else, something indefinable and urgent, a part of him that he couldn’t comprehend but was jumping up inside of him, telling him to hell with the expectations and obligations on him, to hell with what his father would expect him to do: Eloise was right there, he could reach out and grab her, keep her here in Savisia with him, kiss her until she saw sense, until she begged him to make love to her.

And then what?

Have her wake up and hate him?

For all that he could use their physical connection to overcome her defences, he’d never do that. It was beneath him.

She had to come to him willingly.

She had to want him more than she wanted to fight this.

Or it would always be something he regretted.

And she’d made it abundantly clear she was going to fight temptation with her dying breath.

However, resuming wedding negotiations and forcing her to sit through them had been a low move. He felt that with every single minute of the day. She was so strong, so determined not to show any emotion, yet he felt it resonating off her, and more importantly, he felt it within his core. He judged himself, and yet he didn’t call off the meetings again. He couldn’t. This was the path of his future, he’d committed to it, and there was nothing that could stop it now. He would marry the Crown Princess of Ras Sarat, no matter how badly he wanted a completely different future.

The next morning, Tariq was preparing for the meetings when he received a call from his private secretary.

‘Go ahead,’ he muttered, taking a sip of scalding hot coffee.

‘I’m aware your day is already scheduled, Your Highness, but I’ve had an interesting request. Something I wanted to run by you before responding.’

That was, in and of itself, unusual. ‘Yes?’

‘Have you heard of Graciano Cortéz?’

‘Of course. The property developer.’

‘In fact, he is also an investor in many industries but primarily, he is known for his development work.’

‘What about him?’

‘He intends to buy a large amount of land in the city and convert it to hotel accommodation. He’s asked to meet with you.’

‘I hadn’t heard anything about this.’

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