Claiming His Desert Princess. Marguerite Kaye

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СКАЧАТЬ right. Is there truly nothing you can do?’

      ‘Only what I have already decided, which is to make the most of my time, helping you here. Unless you can spirit me away on a flying carpet, of course.’

      This time, he accepted her change of subject. Further discussion was futile. ‘I’ll check if there is a magic carpet stall at the bazaar,’ Christopher replied. ‘Where would you like to fly to if there is?’

      * * *

      Relieved, Tahira smiled. ‘Somewhere far away from here. Somewhere which doesn’t exist, or a place that is hidden by the mists of time, visible only to me. A ruined city, or even better, my own little oasis, a place where I can pitch a tent and keep goats and grow fruit.’

      Christopher laughed. ‘You wish for the life of a peasant. Why not wish for a sumptuous palace, a posse of servants to gratify your every whim?’

      ‘The very last thing I’d want,’ Tahira replied with an inward shudder. He did not understand. How could he, when he had no idea of her true station? Was it wrong of her to keep him in the dark? But if she told him, it would change everything. She would no longer be simply herself. He would look at her and see all the trappings she left behind at the palace—if he looked at her at all, for wasn’t it more likely that he would put an immediate end to their time together? And rightly so, for if they were discovered together, everyone would assume the worst, and even though his nationality might earn him some protection, at the very least he would be thrown into prison.

      It was wrong of her. While Christopher could admire the courage of an ordinary female for escaping her home, pursuing her dreams, rebelling against the fate her family planned for her, he would be shocked that a princess of royal blood could behave so indecorously. Her breeding, her position, would form an impenetrable wall between them.

      Yet the chances of them being caught together were so very slim. And even if they were discovered, she had never been seen in public without her cloak and veil. No one would recognise her. No, it was too unlikely to worry about. If she were to be caught at all, it would be entering or leaving the palace, and since that had not happened yet, despite a few close shaves—she was worrying over nothing.

      Besides, she desperately wanted to help Christopher to solve the mystery of the amulet. She wanted time to prove that the ancients had mined turquoise here. The conclusion of his quest would bring their time together to a natural end soon enough. Surely it wasn’t too much to expect, to make the most of however many days or weeks it turned out to be? Too much to expect, yes, but surely not too much to ask. She needed to store up memories to sustain her for the rest of her life.

      A quirked eyebrow told Tahira that she’d been silent for too long. ‘I was dreaming of my life as a goatherd.’

      ‘You don’t mean it, do you? That’s what you’d have, if you could have any wish?’

      ‘No, I am not so silly as to think I could really survive in such a way.’

      ‘What would you wish for then?’

      ‘Right now? Oh, silly things. I’d like to take a swim in an oasis. Race a horse across the desert. Climb to the top of a huge sand dune and slide down it. Awake in the desert dawn. But I’ve already mentioned that one.’

      ‘But these are things anyone could do.’

      ‘I can’t,’ Tahira said simply. ‘I am not free to spend the night in the desert. Even if I could find an oasis big enough to swim in, I would not dare do so for fear of drowning alone. I have no horse, and as for the dune—I can imagine the feeling, but the practicalities elude me—how does one slide down sand? You see, they are modest dreams, but no more achievable for me than flying on a magic carpet.’

      ‘And that is it, the sum total of your desires?’

      She recalled her earlier thoughts. Dare she? He was so close, she could feel the heat from his body. He smelled of warm skin, lemon soap, something else distinctively masculine. Her heart was pounding. What if he refused? But if she did not ask...

      ‘I wish that you would kiss me, Christopher.’

      He inhaled sharply. ‘Tahira...’

      ‘That was unfair of me. Ignore me.’

      ‘Tahira, you are impossible to ignore.’ He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. ‘Your wish is my command.’

      * * *

      He kissed her. He could not resist kissing her. She did not taste of ripe peaches. She tasted of spices and of heat, exotic and sultry, exactly as she looked, and she set him on fire. Christopher struggled to keep the kiss gentle, struggled not to crush her delectable body to him. He flattened his palm over the sweep of her spine, the swathe of her hair silky against his calloused skin.

      She sighed, the sweetest sound, and nestled closer to him. She was all sensuous curves, scented with jasmine. He licked his way along her bottom lip, then kissed her again as her mouth opened in response. Her fingers curled into his hair. Her breasts brushed against his chest. She angled her mouth, and she kissed him back, and he felt his groin tighten, felt the blood rush, and Tahira let out that soft sigh again, an invitation to pleasure he could not refuse. He kissed her again, his mouth shaping hers, but only for moments before she responded and he pulled her tight against him into a kiss he could easily have drowned in.

      Which realisation made him tear himself away. She stared at him wide-eyed, lips parted in an innocently seductive smile that made him want to pull her back into his arms again for more. ‘Tahira...’

      She shook her head vehemently. ‘I beg you do not apologise. I wanted you to do that.’

      ‘The desire,’ Christopher replied with a short laugh, ‘was entirely mutual.’

      ‘Really? Though that was my first kiss, I could tell it was not yours.’

      Her words were an apt reminder—not that he needed one. ‘Which is precisely why I should not have kissed you.’ He could do nothing about his tainted heritage, but he had no intentions of allowing history to repeat itself. He was no seducer, nor ever would be! ‘Your innocence is entirely safe with me, I promise you. To take such a liberty, I of all people—’ He broke off, shaking his head to dispel the memory her words had unwittingly stirred.

      ‘But you did not. My instincts told me last night that you are an honourable man.’

      ‘It is not simply a matter of honour, Tahira.’

      ‘It was just a kiss,’ she said, clearly perplexed by his vehemence. ‘I don’t understand why—oh!’ She covered her mouth, looking horrified. ‘Do you mean that you have taken such a liberty in the past?’

      ‘No! Absolutely not. I do not refer to myself.’

      ‘Then who...?’

      ‘It doesn’t matter. You are right. It was just a kiss.’

      Just a kiss. He took her hand. Her fingers were long and slim, her nails patterned with henna. His bloodline did not define him. He was nothing like that man, nor ever would be. ‘Just a kiss,’ he repeated, ‘but a very delightful one.’

      She was blushing charmingly. ‘Do you mean that? You forget, I have no experience and am therefore in no СКАЧАТЬ