Master of the Desert

‘Yes, you do,’ he said, his lips tugging in a smile. ‘Why don’t you test me again?’ he suggested. And this time she knew exactly what he meant.

It was much later when he caused her to cry out again, and this time with surprise. ‘Sorry,’ he mocked gently, removing the velvet box from her hand before she had a chance to open it. ‘I forgot you don’t like surprises.’

‘Just a minute,’ she admonished him, sitting bolt-upright, naked and beautiful. ‘Like you said about love, surprises come in many forms—and some of them aren’t so bad.’

‘Well, if you’re sure?’ he said, pressing his lips down in a pretence of doubt as he opened the catch on the velvet box to reveal the magnificent royal-blue sapphire surrounded by blue-white diamonds he had picked out in the hope that Antonia would wear it on her wedding finger.

‘Are you suggesting a partnership?’ she said, narrowing her eyes.

‘I was rather thinking a marriage. Isn’t that the same thing?’

‘No, it isn’t the same thing at all,’ she assured him with all the defiance in her voice that he loved.

‘A marriage and a partnership, then?’ he amended.

‘If I can have both…’ She appeared to think about it.

‘If I can have you standing beside me, you can have anything,’ Ra’id said.

‘In that case…’

‘I love you,’ he said simply as she threw herself into his arms. ‘I love you and I want to marry you, Antonia. Unfortunately that means you will have to be a queen, and for that I apologise. I know you, above all people, understand what is involved in loving a country and its people as I do.’

‘And I love its king,’ she assured him. ‘But, most of all, I love you…Saif, Ra’id, Sword of Vengeance—whoever you are.’ And then she laughed and warned him, ‘You’d better not use that sword on anyone else, or you’re in serious trouble.’

‘Grow up,’ he said, tumbling her onto the cushions.

‘In that respect? Never,’ she promised him defiantly.

Then he kissed her with all the passion with which only Ra’id was capable, and in a way that convinced Antonia she’d found not her lover, or even her husband, but her soul mate; there could be no other. Ra’id had kissed the last of her fears away until she was triumphant and strong. There was only one thing missing, Antonia realised as Ra’id pulled away.

But then he did that too.

‘Antonia Ruggiero,’ he whispered, kneeling in front of her with his head bowed. ‘Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

‘Yes…Oh, yes!’ she exclaimed.

‘Will you be my queen, the mother of my children, and will you work at my side for the good of Sinnebar?’ Ra’id demanded, lifting his proud, formidably handsome face to stare her in the eyes. ‘Because I love you—and will always love you.’

‘I will,’ she said fearlessly. ‘I will.’

Moving to embrace her, Ra’id cupped her face in his hands. ‘If you look with your heart, you will find as I did that the most important things in life aren’t land or possessions, they’re invisible.’

‘As long as I’m not invisible.’

‘You, Antonia?’ Ra’id’s expression changed from irony to sincerity. ‘You could never be ignored—you’d make sure of that. But please be serious for a moment. I’m saying I love you, and I’ll take a lifetime to prove it to you if I have to. And, as for the land, it will always be yours—’

‘Or I could give it to the people of Sinnebar,’ she interrupted him, which felt right to her.

A faint smile tugged at Ra’id’s firm mouth. ‘Now do you see why I love you?’ he said, and, taking the fabulous sapphire ring out of its velvet nest, he placed it on Antonia’s wedding finger.

EPILOGUE

SHE couldn’t have everything her own way.

Which wasn’t such a bad thing, Antonia conceded, staring at her wedding dress twinkling in the faint, pink light before dawn. Ra’id had insisted that their people required their queen to look like a queen, and that Antonia could have her wedding dress adapted at some later stage and wear it again if she felt bad about the extravagance.

It was a dream of a dress, Antonia reflected, holding back the folds of the lavish bridal-pavilion where she had spent the night. She had tumbled out of bed in time to see Ra’id leave the encampment. He had galloped away on his fierce black stallion, with his younger brother Razi at his side, their very masculine silhouettes framed against a brightening sky as they rode across the brow of the dune. They were two unimaginably powerful men like heroes of old, leaning low over the necks of their straining horses as they raced away, no doubt to enjoy an early-morning swim in some lush, green oasis.