Page 58 of Desert King's Forbidden Temptation

His jaw shifted as he ground his teeth together.

‘Tell me about your brother,’ she said, changing the subject, as she reached for her clothes and began to dress. ‘What’s he like?’

Tariq’s gaze faltered, shifting to the palace. ‘Familiar.’

‘Like you?’

‘Like someone I’ve known all my life,’ he corrected. ‘His voice, his eyes, his smile, they’re all pieces of me.’

‘It must have felt...a thousand things, actually, when you met him.’

‘It was surprising.’

Her lips twisted, and her eyes feasted, as he too stood, stretching first then bending, picking up his loose cotton shirt, cuffed pants, and finally, his thobe. Before he could replace it, he came to stand right opposite her, toe to toe, his eyes scanning her face. ‘No regrets?’

Her heart shimmied like the sky overhead. She regretted much about their situation but strangely, not what they’d just done. ‘No. None.’

His nod was one of approval and it warmed her heart.

They rode back to the palace slowly, and he stopped where he had the last time, away from the stables and the curious eyes of his staff.

‘Wait here for me.’

She was tempted to fight that, to leave immediately, but she wasn’t yet ready. Her heart was still hungry for him. Hungry for more.

She watched as he rode away, his back straight, achingly strong, and only then did she let a small sob break from her lips, a tear drop from her eyes. She lifted a hand and pressed it to her cheek, then spun her back, focusing on the desert sky behind the palace.

Minutes later, she couldn’t say how many, his hands came around her waist, pulling her back to him, so she closed her eyes and inhaled, the familiar presence of his body now a part of her.

‘I can come to you tonight. Later. I can rely on my palace staff for discretion.’

She turned in his arms and pressed a finger to his lips. ‘Let’s not argue about this, Tariq.’ She dropped her finger away. ‘You can’t come to me, and I won’t come to you. What just happened was a beautiful piece of unreality.’

His eyes flashed with something dark but he contained it quickly. ‘Let’s not argue,’ he agreed. ‘We can discuss this further another time.’

‘Tomorrow,’ she said with a small nod, knowing that tomorrow, she’d be long gone.

‘Do you have a moment?’ His tone really didn’t invite argument, and he knew the woman sitting across the room could sense, even from that distance, that her son was angry.

She nodded towards her companions, smiling softly. ‘Thank you, ladies, that will be all.’

Four elegant Savisian women filed from the room, and with another curt nod, the two remaining servants, leaving the Sheikh alone with his mother.

‘Darling, have you eaten? There are some leftovers...’

‘I’m not hungry.’

His anger was palpable and new. Though he was a man who felt strongly, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been angry like this. Not since he was a child. It wasn’t his way. He was a problem solver, and always had been. When he saw something that needed fixing, he simply worked out how to fix it. Anger, he’d always said, was a futile emotion.

‘Then come and sit. Tell me what’s happened.’

He paced towards her but didn’t sit. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared out of the window behind her.

‘Did you know about him?’

‘About whom, dear?’

‘Did you know, when you took me, that I had a brother?’

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