Page 12 of Her Vow to Be His Desert Queen

Sidonie’s mouth had become even drier. She didn’t need that memory in her head, not when it felt as if there was a fine current of electricity in the air around them, making her skin prickle and tighten.

He’d never looked at her this way before, with heat. He’d never given even the slightest hint that he was interested in her in that way. Yet that electricity was unmistakable, as was the look in his eyes...

She glanced away, flustered and hating herself for being flustered. She’d had very little experience with men. As a teenager she’d spent too much time trying to get good marks at school to allow time for crushes, and then, at Oxford, she’d met Khalil, and of course no other man would ever or could ever measure up to him. After he’d left England, and she’d decided she was going to put him behind her once and for all, she’d tried the dating scene. But was soon faced with the hard, cold reality that the men she’d met didn’t interest her. So after a year or two of disappointment, Sidonie had decided she didn’t want anything to do with them full stop.

Except now, sitting next to Khalil and not knowing what to say because of the way he was looking at her, to not even be able to hold his gaze... She was regretting that decision. It was ridiculous to be thirty and still a virgin, to be so inexperienced that her ex-best friend could fluster her with a mere look.

It gave him too much power and he was already far too powerful as it was.

So? Take some of it back.

Yes, but how? She would have to think more about it.

Sidonie looked down at her white shirt and brushed at an imaginary speck of lint to cover her fluster. ‘They call you a god? Do people still believe the King is semi-divine, then? Surely not after your father.’

He shrugged. ‘They decided he was too flawed to be divine. He was merely a man and should not be venerated.’

Sidonie knew about his country, because he’d talked about it. It was fantastically rich due to its oil deposits and also had a very Byzantine political system where the King or Queen’s word was absolute law, bolstered by the belief that, since an ordinary human being could never protect a nation, the ruler should be a god.

It had always sounded like a very interesting place, and she’d have loved to visit, but he’d warned her off travelling there. He hadn’t wanted to show her Al Da’ira under his father’s rule, because Amir had turned it into such a hotbed of corruption and nepotism. ‘Come when I am King,’ Khalil had said. ‘I will show you the true heart of Al Da’ira then.’

She still remembered those conversations. About all the things Khalil would change when he was King. His passion had been so inspiring. But...where had that man gone?

He’s a stranger, remember? You can’t think of him as your friend any more.

‘Then should I be prostrating myself in your presence?’ She kept her voice light and casual. ‘Make sure my face is pressed to the floor?’

‘No need to prostrate yourself. Kneeling in my presence would be fine.’ In the depths of his eyes, that ember of heat sparked again, and there was a wicked edge to that slight smile.

It shocked her, that heat. As did the sensual note in his voice. It was as if they were talking about something completely to different from what they were actually talking about.

Don’t be stupid. He’s flirting with you.

Sidonie took another breath, that sense of dislocation hitting her again, making her almost dizzy. Of course that was what he was doing. And it was strange because he’d never flirted with her before. He was arrogant, yes, but he could also be charming when he wanted to be, and she’d watched him make slaves of people with only one of his rare smiles. But he’d never turned that charm on her. She’d been pleased that he didn’t, telling herself that it was because she didn’t need charming. She was his friend, not a girlfriend. Except a secret part of her had always longed for him to flirt with her, look at her the way he was doing now, with heat.

Don’t fall for him again. You can’t afford to.

Shoving away the silly, quivering part of her, she met his gaze coolly. ‘No one is kneeling, Khalil. Least of all me.’

If he found her lack of flirtatious response annoying, he gave no sign. ‘Never say never, Sidonie,’ he said, his voice giving nothing away. ‘You should enjoy the view before the sun sets. We will talk more on this later.’

She didn’t protest this time, and when he pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced down at it, indicating that he was done talking, she only felt relief. She needed a break to think about how she was going to handle this supposed dinner.

The rest of the short flight, Sidonie tried to pay attention to the view from the window, but her thoughts kept circling around this dinner they were going to have when they finally arrived, and what she was going to say to him if he kept on insisting that she marry him.

He’d mentioned something back in the pub in England, asking her to think about whether there was something she might need from him, but the only thing she could possibly need from him was his continued distance.

What about for the charity? He’s a king. He could be useful.

Sidonie scowled out of the window. Unfortunately, yes, in that way he could be useful. She’d been looking for a patron to help boost the charity’s profile, and having a royal one would be even better than the celebrities she’d been considering approaching.

He could give the charity a global reach, even beyond Europe if he agreed. And all for the small price of marrying him.

But think of how many children you could help.

It was true. And helping orphaned and disadvantaged children had been the whole reason she’d started it, having once been one of those children herself.

She thought about it the rest of the flight, until Paris was suddenly laid out beneath her, the Eiffel Tower in the distance, and then it vanished from her head.

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