The Desert Lord's Bride / Wed by Deception: The Desert Lord's Bride. Emilie Rose

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СКАЧАТЬ the one who changed your mind.” Her voice quavered.

      He shot to his feet. “I did no such thing.”

      “But you said there was no point in looking me up anymore.”

      “Only because you’ve made it clear you don’t want to see me. And since you seem horrified by what you let happen between us, after your earlier doubts, I don’t want to give them credence by imposing my desire where it isn’t wanted, adding the charges of stalking and harassment to…” He stopped, stared at her as she gaped at him. Then his stiff face broke into slow elation that made her feel like the sun had broken through barricades of clotted clouds and a heavenly orchestra had broken out to fill the world with poignancy and beauty. “You weren’t telling me you didn’t want to see me again?”

      “If I in any way implied that, then my communication skills, as stunted as they are, have totally disintegrated.”

      Something tight, watchful, still hovered in his gaze. “But you said you wanted to go home.”

      “I only wanted to go home tonight. I was hoping to be with you again tomorrow, when I hoped also to have retrieved my misplaced balance and borrowed some much-needed discretion.”

      And the tension in his eyes, his stance, disappeared as he leaned closer until he had her imprisoned between his arms, lowered his head to hers until his breath singed her cheek, her jaw. “I pray no one ever lends you any. In fact, I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure no one does. You captivate me with your frankness, you elate me with your spontaneity.”

      She sounded as if she’d sprinted a mile as she said, “Even when they took a turn into frank and spontaneous paranoia?”

      He raised his face. “I would bear anything to have them. But I’d also do anything never to have you flinch away from me or see pain and doubt fill your eyes again.”

      “Oh, I’ll never do that again. And you’ll never see those—” she gulped as she realized how stupid that sounded, how futile “—for the whole whopping hour I have left in your company.”

      He took her by the shoulders, his eyes brooking no argument. “But I will see you again. When this crisis is over.”

      “Yeah, sure.”

      He came down beside her again, turned her to him. “What does your sarcasm signify here, ya jameelati?”

      “Just that in a few months you probably won’t remember meeting me, let alone take the trouble to come and see me again.”

      He shook his head. “How can you underestimate your effect on me to that extent? You think I’d forget you?” He clamped her shoulders again, his eyes filling with what looked like a vow. “These months away from you will be like serving a sentence. I’ll count down each minute until I can come to you again.”

      Her heart ricocheted inside her like a released balloon, before it dropped into her gut, deflated and limp. “Oh, Shehab, that’s exactly how I feel.” Her breath caught at the flare in his eyes. She smoothed his formidable jaw, attempted a smile that trembled apart. “But if you come back, I won’t mind.”

      He pressed his hand over hers, making her cup his face. “Then you’re far stronger than I. I will go mad with frustration and probably let what I’m leaving you to handle go to hell.”

      Her heart zoomed at the passion in his face, the conviction in his voice, before it sputtered at his meaning.

      “No, you won’t.” Her other hand came up, cradling his face in an attempt to soothe him as he had her, so many times this tempestuous night. “So many people count on you, and you’ll resolve everything with a flick of a hand as you always do. And while you’re away, we don’t have to be cut off from one another, do we? We can phone, e-mail, have video-conferencing…”

      “And make the longing even more insupportable.”

      She choked on the truth of his words, nodded miserably. “I already miss you and you’re still right here.”

      Then she was in his arms, every part of her exposed flesh covered in a fever of kisses. She was shaking apart when he wrenched his lips away. “This is once in a lifetime, and I can’t leave it—can’t leave you behind. Come with me, ya Farah.”

      She jerked. “C-come with you? How?”

      His lips curled at her squeak. “I will order my pilots to gain altitude again and chart a course for my home.”

      She struggled out of his embrace, scampered up to her knees on the couch, glared down on him. “Now you’re laughing at me.”

      He sat up, took her face in both his hands. “I’ve never felt less humorous in my life. I mean it, Farah. Come with me.”

      She sagged in his hold again with the blow of sheer nerve-racking disbelief. He was offering her a continuation, a chance to be with him. Really with him. In his home…

      But… “How? And don’t you dare describe the flight plan. You have a crisis on your hands…”

      “Let me worry about that.”

      She barely heard him, barreled on. “And I have work…”

      One hand covered her mouth, gentle, inexorable, suspending all words, all thought. Then he commanded, “Take a vacation.”

      Shehab watched stupefaction follow the parade of emotions spilling all over Farah’s face. It was as if he’d proposed she should fly. Under her own power.

      Sure enough, she mumbled into his hand, “I don’t take vacations.”

      He’d had reports of how she was always present at work. He’d thought her lover was keeping her on a short leash. But now it seemed it was she who’d never considered taking time off.

      He removed his hand, stroked her cheek. “Never?”

      She looked as if realization had just dawned on her. “Guess I never had anything to do with my free time, so I never wanted it.”

      “Don’t you want it now? To be with me?” Her eyes blazed with such blatant admission that he groaned. “If you come with me, I’ll commute to and from the locations I need to be in and come back to you every available minute of each day.”

      “You really want this, want me to go home with you, back to— to…” She stopped, almost panting. “Where do you live, anyway?”

      “I live on an island off the coast of Damhoor.” He didn’t mention that the closest shores where those of Judar. He didn’t want to bring up the place he didn’t want her to associate him with. And he was counting on that ignorance she’d confessed. She hadn’t even bothered to look up her biological father’s kingdom on a map. If she had, she’d have learned that Zohayd wasn’t only Judar’s neighbor, but Damhoor’s, too. And she might have grown uncomfortable. As it was, the only agitation he felt from her was shock clashing with elation and indecision. He had to pulverize the latter, fast. He knew the best way to do that.

      He let his eyes grow heavy with feigned pain. “You still don’t trust me, Farah?”

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