‘Camp with scorpions. Thank goodness my parents didn’t send me to that one.’ Jenny shuddered but Avery didn’t smile because she knew her problem wasn’t going to be the desert wildlife or even the inhospitable terrain.
It was Mal. Or, more specifically, her feelings about Mal.
‘The scorpions aren’t a problem as long as you remember to shake your boots out in the morning before you put them on and you’re careful about moving rocks and things.’
Jenny curled her legs under her. ‘You are the woman who knows everything there is to know about throwing a good party. When did you learn about scorpions?’
‘I spent time in the desert with Mal.’ And she didn’t want to think about that now. Didn’t dare think about it, but of course having heard that comment Jenny wasn’t about to let it go.
‘He’s the Crown Prince. I assumed that when he went into the desert he had jewel-encrusted tents and hundreds of people to wait on him. Surely scorpions aren’t allowed in the royal presence?’
‘His father sent him to spend a year with a desert tribe to understand how they lived. And he spent a couple of years in the Zubrani military after Cambridge. He knows the desert, although this is different because we’re travelling into Arhmor, which is where his princess comes from. Which hat?’ Avery held two of them up and when Jenny pointed she dropped it into her bag. ‘Apparently we’re pretending to be tourists.’
‘Won’t he be recognised? For that matter, won’t you be recognised? With your blonde hair and your blue eyes, you’re going to stand out like a pair of red shoes at a white wedding.’
‘That’s why I’m packing the hat.’ Avery added a silk wrap to her packing. ‘And anyway, no one will expect to see the Crown Prince of Zubran slumming it in a four-by-four, and because they don’t expect to see him, they won’t see him. But you make a good point. I don’t think travelling in disguise is his thing. Can you grab me a baseball hat with “I love London” on it or something?’
Jenny shuddered. ‘If I have to. But are you absolutely sure you’re fine with travelling alone through the desert with a man you were once in love with?’
‘I wasn’t in love with him. I’ve told you that a thousand times.’
‘Maybe after another thousand times I might actually believe you.’ Jenny slid off the bed. ‘I’m just worried this is going to be so hard for you.’
‘It’s not. It’s going to cure me.’ Avery snapped her case shut. ‘Five minutes alone with Mal in the desert and he’ll be driving me mad. I’ll be doing everything I can to make sure he marries someone else. In fact I’ll probably push her up the aisle myself.’
She was driving him mad.
Five minutes alone in her company and already Mal was asking himself how they’d ever survived a year together. No other woman had this effect on him. Certainly not the woman he was supposed to be marrying. His mouth tightened as he contemplated Kalila’s obvious change of heart. Could he really blame her for running? They had no relationship and never had. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Avery they’d barely spoken. What had been a lie was the implication that their lack of communication had been driven by Kalila’s strict upbringing. In fact even when the opportunity had arisen, they’d had nothing to say to each other.
The marriage was about duty, nothing more. The deal was clearly as distasteful to Kalila as it was to him, but he’d made his choice and he’d thought she had too. And if there had been a moment in his life when he’d thought that duty and desire just might coincide, then that was in the past.
Except that the ‘past’ was hoisting a bag off her shoulder and glaring at him as if he were personally responsible for global warming and the economic crisis.
He was a fool to have allowed her to come. To have put himself in this position.
‘I’ll drive.’ She slung her bag into the back of the four-by-four, slim and elegant in linen trousers and a long-sleeved shirt that shielded her slender arms from the sun. That shiny blond fall of hair was restrained in a tight plait that fell between her narrow shoulder blades.
Mal dragged his eyes from the lean lines of her body and focused on her face. As always, her skin was flawless and her make-up perfect. There were no signs that she was finding the situation stressful. And why would she? She’d ended their relationship, hadn’t she? And since that day—that day now forged in his memory—she’d shown no regrets about that decision.
‘I’m driving.’ He wanted to give himself something to focus on other than her. ‘It will attract less attention.’
‘The driver attracts more attention than the passenger. I will drive.’
‘Are we going to argue every point?’
‘That’s up to you.’ Her blue eyes were cool. ‘If you’re a tourist then you need to look like a tourist. Good job I brought you a gift from London.’ She tossed a baseball hat at him and he caught it and read the words on the front.
‘“I love London”?’
‘I tried to get a matching T-shirt but no luck. They only had small or medium. At least you look slightly closer to “tourist” than you did five minutes ago.’ Her eyes skimmed his shoulders. It was such a brief look that to an outsider it wouldn’t have seemed significant but he was looking for other signs and this time he found them. The slight change in her breathing. The way she was careful to step away from him. ‘Now all you have to do is stop ordering me around.’
‘I have never ordered you around. You have always done exactly as you wanted to do.’ Because he was still watching, he saw her expression flicker.
For a moment he thought she was going to say something personal. Possibly even admit that travelling alone together like this was far more difficult than she’d imagined it would be. But then she gave a careless smile.
‘Good. So in that case you won’t mind if I drive.’ Breaking the connection, she opened the driver’s door and was about to jump inside when he caught her arm and pulled her back to him. The contact was minimal but that was all it took, the attraction so deep, so fierce that he released her instantly. But it was too late because his body had already recognised her. This close, her perfume seeped into his senses and the scent of it was so evocative it acted like a brake to his thinking. He couldn’t remember what he’d been about to say. He couldn’t think about anything except how much he wanted her.
Her mouth was so close to his that he could feel the tiny shallow breaths that were her attempts to draw air into her lungs. He knew that mouth. He wanted that mouth.