Page 53 of Desert King's Forbidden Temptation

Abruptly, he stood, scraping back his chair.

‘That’s enough.’

The room fell silent.

‘We’ll resume tomorrow morning. We’re done for the day.’

The rest of the chairs pushed back, and one by one, the occupants bowed and left the room. Eloise was last. She lingered by the door, turning to face him, but in that moment, his anger was aimed even at her, because he needed her, and she was holding herself back from him.

He ground his teeth together, staring at her with ice in his veins.

‘Are you okay?’ she whispered.

Was he okay? Hell, he wasn’t okay. How could he be?

He stared down his nose at her, eyes glittering in his face, focusing all of his anger at her because she was there and she’d let him down. She’d put Elana above him. He knew it wasn’t a reasonable feeling to have, that she had shown loyalty and bravery in treating her friendship with so much respect, but what about her feelings for him, and his for her? What about what they owed each other?

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘You seem—’

‘You are not here to psychoanalyse me, Miss Ashworth. I suggest you go back to your rooms and check in with your friend.’

She flinched and he felt his gut twist in response. Her eyes clearly showed her hurt. He’d done that to her, and none of this was her fault. His anger was totally unreasonable. But damn it, if they couldn’t make love, they could make war—it was better to spark with her in anger than not at all.

But not if it made her feel like this. Not if he hurt her.

‘Very well, Your Highness.’ She curtseyed with that beautiful dancer’s grace, and the moment she left the room he braced his hands on the edge of the table and dropped his head, feeling that he’d hit the low point, in that moment.

He’d pushed her away.

He’d sought to hurt her.

Why?

What had that achieved?

Why, when he wanted her with every cell in his body, had he thrown more barriers between them?

Something dark churned inside of him and suddenly, he was no longer thinking, but acting on instinct alone. He burst into the corridor, deserted except for a few members of the national guard, and looked left and right, searching for her familiar figure. He chose to walk left, striding the corridors with purpose until he rounded the corner and found her, walking with a frown on her face, eyes skimming the walls and barely registering the art that hung there.

He reached her easily but didn’t touch her. He didn’t dare.

‘Would you come with me?’

She hesitated a moment. Wisely. Control was a long way back in his rear vision mirror.

‘Come where?’ It was hearing her voice that pushed him firmly over the edge, the sadness and resignation. The admission that she would go anywhere with him, no matter the cost. How he wished he could be the bigger person and release her from this hell of their creation, but his needs overpowered everything else.

‘Into the desert,’ he said, leaning down, his face just an inch from hers. ‘But I should warn you,habibi,I am no longer able to honour the promise I made. If you come, I cannot tell you what will happen between us.’

She startled, eyes wide, face pale. ‘Tariq, what is it?’

‘Are you coming?’

Her lips parted, she swayed a little; still, he didn’t touch her.

She stared up at him and he waited, nerves stretching, then finally, he turned, calling her bluff. He stalked away from her, not looking back, but hoping, hoping with all of himself, that she would follow.

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