Tamed: The Barbarian King

He took a deep breath. But today at least, he was home. He was free. He looked up at Jasmine, so impossibly beautiful in the old T-shirt that stretched over her breasts and barely covered her thighs. Today at least he was with her.

“Here, we can forget you are the king,” she said softly. She turned back to lean against the railing, watching the pink sun peeking slowly over the violet mountains. “And I can forget I will be soon married.”

Staring out blindly across the desert, she shivered in the cool morning.

Taking two cups of steaming coffee, he walked across the deck to stand behind her. Handing her a mug, he wrapped one arm around her and pulled her back against his chest. He held her close as they watched the sun rise across the desert, filling the land with warmth and color like rose gold, as they both sipped coffee in silence.

She glanced back at him with a sudden embarrassed laugh. “You said you come here to be alone. Do you want me to go?”

He held her against his chest.

“No,” he said quietly. “I want you to stay.”

She didn’t interrupt his solitude, he realized. She improved it. The quiet intimacy she offered him enriched everything, even the sunrise.

Looking out at the vast desert, he realized he was holding the only person on earth he’d ever wanted to be close to him. Not just in his bed, but in his life.

It couldn’t last. He knew that. In just a few days, they would return to the city. Kareef would again become the king; Jasmine would become another man’s wife. The magic would end.

But staring out at the streaks of orange sunlight now streaking across the brightening blue sky, Kareef told himself they had time. They had days left, hours and hours stretching ahead of them.

And surely, in this magical place, those days could last forever.

Two days later, Jasmine was floating on her back in the swimming pool, staring up at the bluest, widest sky on earth, when she felt Kareef rise up in the water beneath her, pulling her into his arms.

“Good morning,” he growled. Rivulets of water trickled down the hard, tanned muscles of his chest as held her against him. “Why did you get up so early?” he whispered, nuzzling her neck. “You should have stayed in bed.”

Looking down, she realized he was naked. And that there was something specific that he wanted from her.

“Early?” she teased, clinging to his shoulders and pretending to kick her feet in protest. “It’s noon!”

“You kept me up ’til dawn, so it’s your fault,” he said, then all talk ceased as he kissed her. A few minutes later, still entwined in a kiss, he walked out of the pool with Jasmine’s legs wrapped around his waist. Carrying her across the back patio, he laid her on the cushioned lounge bed beneath a loggia. There, he pulled off her string bikini and slowly made love to her in the open air, beneath the hot desert sun.

Afterward, Jasmine must have slept briefly in his arms, for when she opened her eyes, the sun had moved in the sky. But she no longer could recognize the line between sleeping and waking. How could she tell when she was sleeping, when everything she’d imagined in her heart’s deepest dreams had become real, flesh and blood in her arms?

Her days here at Kareef’s desert home had been drenched with laughter and tenderness and passion; her short stay here had been so full of color and life, they’d made the thirteen long years before seem nothing more than a lonely gray dream.

If only she could stay here forever.

Staring out at the reflected sunlight of the turquoise pool, she tried to push the thought from her mind. She had only one day left here. She should enjoy it. Tomorrow morning, Kareef had to be back in the city. His diplomatic engagements could no longer be kept waiting; nor could he put off the royal banquet, which would be attended by the foreign dignitaries who’d come for his coronation.

Tonight, the dream would end.

Stop thinking about it, she tried to tell herself. You’ll only ruin the precious hours you have left. But she couldn’t stop herself. Even when she’d been in bed that morning, cuddled in Kareef’s arms as he slept beside her, she’d stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom and wished with all her heart that she could stay here forever.

In his bed. In his arms.

She’d wished she could remain his wife.

The wish had been so powerful it had nearly choked her. And so she’d fled the bedroom and thrown herself into the pool, to stare up at the sky, to let the water and chlorine and hot sun dissolve her tears.

But now, as she held him on the lounge bed beneath the loggia beside the pool, she was almost tempted to ask him if there were any chance. Any chance at all. The words were trembling on her lips. Even though she already knew the answer.