CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE — A SERIALIZED NOVEL
Pride and Audacity — Part 16
A stranger — a secret agreement — a changed destiny
“He was the last man on earth she wanted, but she was the only woman on earth he’d have…From the skyscrapers of New York City to the ancient sands of Ahalamin, two untamed hearts war for supremacy…”
Victoria entered the tent’s sleeping area, exhausted and glad to be out of the sun. Rashid had not returned, so she gave in to her lingering tiredness and stretched across the round bed. She’d become enamored of its vast roominess and was determined to acquire one of her own upon returning home. In her slumberous state of mind, visions of Rashid’s virile earthiness made her mouth go dry. She’d glimpsed a side of him which bothered her even more than the arrogant prince. The man who’d, without hesitation, stepped under the hooves of his stallion would never back away, never be denied what was his.
Maybe she was wrong and the predatory look he’d given her didn’t mean what she thought it had. But what was she supposed to expect from a man determined on consummating his marriage? Where was he now, probably out communing with his men or his horse? She curled her nose in a small sneer and whispered, “Birds of a feather…”
A rustling noise from the bathing area told her otherwise. When he stepped through the opening into the bedroom…her heart stopped…her breathing stopped. For all she knew…the whole universe stopped.
Black cotton pants hung low on his hips; the drawstring meant to tighten the waist remained untied. A large taupe-colored towel draped around his neck like the arms of a flirtatious lover. The corded muscles of his chest and arms, still moist from his bath, glistened like those of a bronzed statue.
Her skin tingled as if caressed, and the blood racing through her veins bubbled like champagne. She forced her eyes away from his brawny perfection and stared at the lacing tied to the tent poles. How was she going to fight something for which she had designed no weapons? Emotionally — she was a wreck. Physically — even if she did fight, what would her puny efforts gain her? Whatever this man wanted, he possessed the power to take.
“Victoria?”
When she turned her head, his eyes questioned her.
“Are you well? Does your head ache?”
Wow! Did he just hand her a reprieve? She could use the old headache cliche. Did she want to?
“No. I’m fine.” Her words were barely above a whisper.
Satisfied, he sat on the stool beside the bed and began the task of toweling his hair. Droplets of water escaped to sizzle on her heated skin. Tiredness creased the corners of his eyes, and a nasty scratch streaked across his right shoulder.
“You have a cut on your shoulder.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to you?”
“The settlement of an old issue.”
Victoria hated violence. The thought of him subjected to injury, or worse, sent an uninvited and unwanted streak of fear right through her core. The emotional burden made her angry.
“What kind of world have you brought me to…where men act like savages?”
“Life for these people is very basic. In time you will know them better and understand.”
“But…”
“Hush now, Victoria. I am unharmed…and you are safe.”
He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and tossed the towel to the floor. In a heartbeat, he had stretched out just inches from her. Lying on his back with one arm across his eyes, he didn’t move. She stared at a perfectly toned male body. The toasty, sun-kissed color of his skin made her want to touch. Uncomfortable with her fascination, she scooted toward the edge of the bed.
“Do not move away, Victoria.”
“But…I’ll just give you more space.”
“Come here.” His sleepy words, though soft, were inflexible as steel.
“Uh…I don’t think…”
His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back across the bed. Tucking her close to his side, he pressed her head to his shoulder. Taking her left hand, he settled it in the middle of his chest and then placed one of his on top. The bells on her bracelet sang their response.
“Rest, Victoria. Just rest.”
“The day is not half over. I don’t think,” she began, determined to resist.
“I pushed my men all night to get back to you — you will not deny me this.”
“This, what…?” she asked, not sure she wanted the answer.
“If you don’t hush and let me get some sleep, I will be forced to find another method to quiet your mouth.”
She zipped her mouth shut. In less than three minutes, he slept. The rhythmic beating of his heart under her hand exposed her to intimacy so profound, she wanted to weep. Could he really have pressed his body to exhaustion just to sleep in her arms? Moisture dampened her lashes. Fearing a flash flood of emotion, she tried to put a few inches between them. His arm tightened like a vice, holding her in place. Even in sleep, he bent her to his will. For some reason, she didn’t seem to mind. She let the rise and fall of his chest rock her to sleep.
Half-awake, Victoria burrowed her face into her soft, warm pillow. The fuzzy pillowcase tickled and, like a baby, she eased the itching by rubbing her nose across its surface. Her pillow shook. Muddled awareness altered her reality. She lifted her head to check its stability.
Rashid lay on his back. Quiet laughter shook his body. “You are not at all a relaxing bed partner, Victoria. You travel while you sleep. Did you know this? It would seem my shoulder was too hard. You much prefer my stomach as your pillow.”
She jolted to her knees. True to his word, she had been rubbing her face across the flat muscles of his abdomen. The black hair circling his navel and marking a path to the waistband of his pants was, no doubt, the guilty culprit which tickled her nose.
If only the earth would open up and swallow her. She turned without looking at him and fell face-first on her pillow. She would never be able to look him in the eye again. Embarrassed beyond bearing, she resisted the gentle pressure of his hands to turn her.
“No. Just let me die,” she said into her pillow.
“Then you would take the enchantment from my life. Come, Victoria, look at me.”
She knew he would not relent, so she flipped to her back and glared at him. “This is entirely your fault. Why aren’t you ashamed? Why am I the only one who is mortified?”
“Because you are innocent and unaccustomed to a man in your bed. In this, there is no shame. I will teach you to enjoy this new intimacy. You are my wife. My body is for your pleasure as yours is for mine. You have a right to enjoy every inch of what belongs to you, alone.”
Victoria’s mouth hung open. Her eyes watered with the pure sexual implication of his words. If he thought he was helping her, he had another think coming. “What makes you think I’m an innocent? And, while we’re on the subject, does your complete acceptance of this awful situation mean you are accustomed to having your bed full of women?
“Your anger will not push me away, Victoria. And the answer is because of your eyes.”
“What about my eyes?”
“You have virgin eyes, untutored and unknowing. Do you think a man cannot see this when he looks deeply into his woman’s eyes? A virgin fears the unknown depth of her passion. She fears the man whose touch makes her burn. You, my wife, fear the inevitable.”
“Nothing in this situation is inevitable!” Victoria rolled her eyes.
Rashid slid his fingers about her ankle. She shuddered and stiffened. Keeping her eyes locked to his, he talked to her in a soothing tone, telling her how utterly beautiful and desirable she was. All the while, moving his hand upward to her knee.
“When you look into my eyes, as you are doing now, you see the fire the touch of you ignites.” Moving his hand to just above her knee, he brushed aside the hem of her skirt and drew circular patterns with his thumb.
“You sense the strength of my hand on your soft body and you know I will not be denied. Your fear, your anger, your resistance, will all be for nothing. You know you will belong to me, body, and soul.” His hand moved up the outside of her thigh.
Her ears rang as the tempo of her heartbeat went ballistic. The fear he spoke of hit like breaking waves, swamping her off balance and into the undercurrents of her own need. Instinctively, she tried to move away from the threat of him. He gripped her thigh and pulled her toward him until his body touched the full length of hers.
“What you fear the most is your own desire. You want me to take you where you have never been. You want my lips, my hands, all of me. You know you will surely die if I do not fill you completely. This is inevitable…your need of me. It is the way of a wife with her husband.” Rashid bent his head, held his lips just inches from hers, and waited.
What was he waiting for? Her lips quivered with the need to taste him. She wanted his lips on hers in the worst way. The new craving dominated her fear; she lifted her mouth to his. With crushing heat, he gave her what she wanted.
Victoria fell into a whirlpool of desire. Circling her arms around his shoulders, she drew him as tightly as her strength would allow, seeking to merge with him, and still, the bonding was not enough. She sank under the raging waters of desire. Tears forced their way through her lashes as ecstasy overwhelmed her expectations. Her fingertips throbbed from the strength of her grip on his shoulders. When he eased the pressure of his mouth on hers, she tangled her fingers in his hair, denying him retreat. He was her beacon of light, drawing, charting her course through a trackless sea of need. She fought him as he pulled her hands from his hair and eased his mouth from hers. His arms banded her body. He rocked her and murmured soft words in his ancient tongue. Stroking the hair from her face, he showered her with soothing kisses, the kind she gave Aaron to ease the pain of an injury. He held her so tightly she didn’t know where he left off and she began. Slowly, the trembling in her body stopped. Completely and utterly drained, she lay boneless as a rag doll in his arms.
“Victoria…Victoria.” His voice covered her like warm silk. “I did not intend to take you so far, so fast. You are a woman of deep passion.” His body shuddered and his voice dropped to a low, raspy caress. “As much as I want you, I will not take you just because I can.”
He rolled her to her back so she could see his face. “I want everything, Victoria. I want all you have to give. I will not live the rest of our lives with you hating and despising your need for me. You must give me your mind and heart as well. You must be wholly mine.”
He rolled away from her to stand by the bed. “Stay and rest. Do not let your anxious mind rebuild the walls which crumbled in this bed today. Come to me freely, willingly, as I come to you.”
She stared at his back and cursed fate, kismet, life in general, and Rashid in particular. He’d done it again, shattered her world, and then disappeared when she needed him most.
Victoria sat with Zifra on a grassy floor mat several feet from the group of men lounging on the ottomans. She and the young girl shared a communal bowl of rice and chicken as the men were doing. She didn’t recognize the seasoning, but then, she had never been a food connoisseur. Her taste buds did appreciate the rich flavor, especially since lentil soup with vegetables had been her constant sustenance while ill. With no eating utensils, she concentrated on using pieces of flatbread to scoop up the mixture. A smug pride accompanied her quick mastery of the culinary skill.
Rashid glanced in her direction and she lifted her makeshift spoon in salute. Judging by his raised brow, she wasn’t sure he approved of her gesture. No matter, it was still fun. Success in any endeavor was still a success.
The seating arrangements weren’t exactly geared to making a woman feel wanted. Socially snubbed would be more accurate. But she was actually relieved. Being segregated gave her the freedom to amuse herself with a little mockery. For instance, what a difficult task it must be for these men to make babies with women they neither walked with, talked with, nor ate with. She stifled a giggle with her napkin. On the other hand, perhaps afternoon naps were a cultural norm. Remembering her recent experience with the custom, she understood quite well why these men had no problem filling their tents with children.
This situation was giving her a one-track mind. She better start acting like the balanced, levelheaded woman she was before she did something stupid. She returned to observing the room’s occupants. Her husband’s four guests hadn’t acknowledged her presence, and Rashid hadn’t made introductions. Being invisible gave her advantages, though. She didn’t have to put up with five men with inflated egos. Plus, the anonymity gave her ample time to study her husband in his natural setting.
She listened to the voices and laughter of his companions — the man she knew as Califar and three others. They were all ten or twenty years older than Rashid, but their genuine affection and respect for him were easily discernible. They didn’t defer to him because he was a Prince, but paid him a higher tribute; they accepted him as one of their own.
This man who claimed her without hesitation or guilt was a walking puzzle. Arrogant beyond belief…yet considerate. Dictatorial…but principled. He was a stranger to her, and yet, they were now connected on a level she had neither sought nor understood. She charted the contours of his handsome face. His dusky skin a perfect canvas for the midnight brilliance of his eyes. She followed the changing shape of his lips as they moved in easy conversation, lips both savage and gentle.
Her senses slipped into harmony with his every move, transporting her heart to the edge of a dangerous precipice…she wanted to keep him forever. She gasped as hidden desires congealed into a clear and present longing. The gasp caused her to choke on the chicken now stuck in her throat. Like an idiot, she’d drawn all eyes in the room toward her. Discreetly, she took a sip of water which helped soothe the convulsions in her throat. She didn’t look up, knowing her thoughts were in her eyes for all to read.
Thankfully, the men resumed their conversation. This time, when she raised her eyes to study him, she forced her errant emotions into line. She could not afford to let herself need anybody, especially this man. He exercised too much power already. If she had not realized this before, she did now. His power showed its strength, not in forcing her, but in making her want to give him what he wanted. Her silent yielding this afternoon brought that reality sharply to the surface. Sure, he wanted her, maybe even entertained some affection for her, but she was an acquisition he valued…nothing more. She could never fully share his life, never stand by his side, never work shoulder to shoulder with him, and never receive as much as she would have to give.
The faces of her four beautiful children tugged at her heart. Rashid would never accept four children who were not his, nor, in reality, hers. Taking a chance on trusting him would be putting her children at risk. Something she would never do.
To be continued…
Read from the beginning