Desert Prince's Stolen Bride

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘No, tell me.’ Zayed took a step towards her. ‘What do you mean? What do you think will happen to you when you return to Abkar?’

‘Why do you care?’ Olivia challenged. ‘You have not been all that interested in my welfare, Prince Zayed.’

He stiffened with affront. ‘I told you, I am a man of honour.’

‘I have yet to see any evidence of that,’ Olivia said quietly. It was her tone that got to him. She wasn’t angry or accusing. No, she was merely stating a fact. And, with a rush of churning regret, he realised it was true.

‘You must understand why I have to be suspicious,’ he said after a pause. ‘So much is at stake. There is no one I can trust.’

She arched an eyebrow. ‘What do you think I am going to do? Perform some act of sabotage? I am not some spy for Malouf.’

His blood chilled to hear it so plainly. He would not put such a preposterous idea beyond the wily fiend...but he didn’t think Olivia was part of such a nefarious plan. Nor, he realised, did he think she was scheming to better her position. He’d seen too much despair and shock from her to believe that any longer, even if it would have made it easier to plot his own course with no consideration of the woman before him.

‘I know you are not a spy,’ he said gruffly. ‘But I must be careful.’

‘I understand.’ Now she simply sounded tired. ‘And tomorrow I will write your wretched letter and hopefully all of this will go away. Or at least I will.’ She glanced at him, her expression filled with weariness. ‘Now I’d like to go to bed, if you don’t mind.’

Zayed stared at her, wishing he’d got more answers. What would happen to her when she returned to Abkar? He could settle money on her, enough to make sure she would need nothing for a long time. Fortunately he’d been able to secure the royal family’s personal investments before Malouf had taken control, which were considerable. He didn’t want for money, and he could make sure Olivia didn’t either.

But was it enough? And why were such things bothering him now? He glanced at her, at the slight shoulders bowed under an invisible weight, that tender nape. Her lashes swept her cheeks in sooty fans as she lowered her gaze, waiting for him to go.

But he didn’t want to. Quite suddenly he could remember the exact feel and taste of her. He could recall how pliant she’d been in his arms, and how exquisite it had felt to be sheathed inside her. Inconvenient memories that made his body stir with insistent desire.

‘Please let me know if there is anything you need,’ he said finally, shifting to ease the ache in his groin. ‘I’m sorry your accommodation is not more comfortable.’

‘It’s fine, and more than I expected from somewhere so remote.’ She didn’t look at him, merely stretched out on the pallet, waiting for him leave, ready for sleep.

Zayed hesitated another second. This was his bride, whether he wanted her or not, whether he’d meant it or not. He might set her aside as soon as possible, but for now she was his responsibility, and he felt the weight of it with sudden, inexplicable fierceness.

Yet at the moment she wanted nothing from him. She refused even to look at him. And so, filled with a restless unease, Zayed bid her goodnight and left the tent.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THEY LEFT FOR Rubyhan early the next morning. The sky was a pale, luminescent pink as Olivia climbed into the Jeep, gazing around at the harsh desert landscape transformed momentarily into softness and light as dawn broke over the dunes.

She’d spent four years in Abkar, on the edge of the desert, but she’d rarely ventured into its barren heart. If she wasn’t at the palace, then she was accompanying the Princess on various holidays, mostly to Europe or the Caribbean, playgrounds of the rich and royal.

Prince Zayed was an entirely different kind of royal, she mused as she watched him swing up into the Jeep, his muscles rippling with the graceful movement. He reminded her of some ancient warrior, proud and defiant and definitely dangerous. He wasn’t like the pampered aristos she’d seen on some of her travels with the royal family, partying it up, whinging about whatever they could. No, she couldn’t see Prince Zayed at some Monte Carlo night club. He was too raw and primal for that, and even now she was drawn to him.

Yesterday, as she’d helped the women and children, her gaze had been drawn to him again and again. Drawn to his powerful form, and also the way he spoke and listened, the intense responsibility he felt for his people, his country. She’d had the sudden, crazy thought that, when Prince Zayed did love a woman, it would be with that same blazing focus. It just wouldn’t be her.

Now his grey-green gaze caught and snared hers and Olivia looked away, afraid her thoughts would be written on her face. Why on earth was she thinking about whom he might love? Their one night together had awakened a longing inside her she’d managed to suppress until now. And she had to keep suppressing it. The last thing she wanted to do was feel something—something more—for Zayed.

She’d thought they would be taking the Jeep to Rubyhan, but after an hour’s travel they reached a helipad on a flat plain, the horizon stretching out to nowhere in every direction.

‘We’re going by helicopter?’ Olivia asked, even though she supposed it was obvious.

Zayed nodded. ‘Rubyhan is unreachable by any other means. It will take an hour by helicopter.’ Anything else he said was cut off by the whirring of blades as a helicopter appeared on the horizon, coming closer. Olivia put her hands over her ears as the sand kicked up and the military helicopter landed.

Zayed opened the door and held out his hand to help her climb up. She took it, conscious of the strength of his grip as he hoisted her inside. She buckled herself into one of the seats, feeling the surrealness of the situation all over again. How could she be in a helicopter in the middle of the desert with a prince? And yet she was.

Zayed climbed in after her, settling into the seat next to her, then his aide who had told him about the attack. The door closed and the craft lifted into the air, the desert dropping away beneath them.

Olivia craned her neck to look out of the window as they sped towards the horizon. From above the desert looked tranquil, the undulating dunes smooth and graceful, belying how rugged and dangerous the landscape truly could be.

After a little while a mountain range rose up in front of them, jagged peaks piercing the blue sky. The helicopter began to descend, the pilot navigating his way through the ferocious-looking peaks, making Olivia press back in her seat. Out of the window she could see snow-covered mountains adorned with shreds of cloud, almost close enough to touch.