Tamed: The Barbarian King

“No one would call you that,” he raged. “You would be respected as my…as my—”

“As your what? As your wife? We cannot remain married. You know we cannot!”

His eyes glittered down at her. “I can do as I please. I am the king.”

She heard a distant helicopter, a deep flick-flick-flick high above the desert, and this time there could be no doubt. Shaking her head, she gave a harsh laugh.

“For a man with your sense of honor,” she said, fighting back tears, “that makes you less free than the lowliest servant in your palace.”

“Jasmine…”

“No!” she shouted. “I cannot back out of my engagement. Umar would be humiliated. My family’s reputation would be destroyed. First my scandal, then Nima’s pregnancy—my parents would never be able to leave their house again!”

“Why do you even care, after the way they’ve treated you?”

“Because I love them. Because—” she lifted her head as tears filled her eyes “—they are the only family I’ll ever have. They, and Umar and his children. I cannot be the cause of their ruin by becoming your whore!”

“Don’t use that word! I would kill any man who called you that!”

“All of them?” Her throat tightened as a hoarse laugh escaped her. “You would kill your own subjects for speaking the truth?”

His hands clenched her shoulders. “It’s not the truth, and you know it!”

She briefly closed her eyes, trying to regain her strength, to catch her breath. “What else would you call an engaged woman who’s done what I’ve done with you?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re my wife.”

“Let me go, Kareef,” she whispered. “Set me free.”

He looked down at her, his eyes full of an impetuous mixture of autocratic male possessiveness and emotion that struck her to the heart. “I can protect you, Jasmine.”

“How?” she whispered, then shook her head. “Even you cannot work miracles—”

“It’s a miracle you’re here with me now.” Cupping her face, he looked down at her. “And I will not let you go. Not yet.”

She felt his rough fingertips against her skin. Felt his naked body, so warm and hard and fierce against hers. Felt how much he desired her. Felt the power of his savage strength as he lowered his mouth to hers.

His lips moved against hers with deep, exquisite tenderness. Persuading her. Mastering her, not just with his sensual power, but with the ache of her own body and heart.

When he finally released her, a low sigh rose from her throat. She gazed up at him, this man she loved, feeling dazed and warm, drenched by the soft sunlight of his nearness.

His kiss had conquered her as a thousand words could not.

Exhaling, he pulled her back against his bare chest, stroking her hair as he felt her surrender. “You’re mine, Jasmine,” he murmured into her hair, almost too softly for her to hear. “As I am yours.”

Distantly, a voice cried inside her that he wasn’t hers—that he could never be hers, not anymore. And that by going back to Shafar with him as his secret mistress, she’d be risking everything she held precious—everyone she loved.

But she could not let him go. Not yet. Not yet!

She closed her eyes as he held her in her arms. Let the future come as it will, she thought. Somehow, they could find a way to be together just for a little while longer without hurting anyone. Couldn’t they?

The helicopter was very loud now. She saw the swirl of sand outside the cave turn by the force of its rotor blades as it landed on the nearby plateau.

Jasmine pulled back with sudden alarm. “Get dressed. We can’t let your men find you naked…alone with me!”

He snorted a laugh. “That would be a most unexpected sight for them, wouldn’t it?”

Picking up his clothes from the ground, she shoved them into his arms. “Get dressed!”

He smiled down at her, and she couldn’t help smiling back. For one instant time hung between them, breathless with the anticipation of endless future joys.

Then she heard his men shouting, heard the pounding of machines against the earth. Heard a rush of heavy footsteps coming toward the cave, growing louder.

Sighing beneath her anxious, pleading gaze, he moved with rapid military precision, stepping into his boxers and black pants. As he pulled on his shirt, she peeked one last look at his handsome physique and marveled that she was the only woman who’d ever experienced the incredible pleasure of being in his bed. How was it possible? How was she so blessed?

She thought again of the reverent, hot, tender way he’d touched her in the night. And in the day…