Master of the Desert

The wedding gown the tribeswomen had created for their queen was an exquisite column of a dress in heavy ivory silk, embroidered for this occasion in gold thread by specialist craftswomen who lived deep in the interior of Sinnebar. It managed to be both demure and sexy, with long sleeves to preserve Antonia’s modesty, but bodyskimming to hint at what lay beneath. She hoped Ra’id would take the hint, as they hadn’t made love since their last night in the desert. Far from dulling her sexual urges, pregnancy had only made her hungrier for him, a fact she was sure he knew, but which he cruelly refused to take action on. The thought that this would be their wedding night made desire cry deep inside her, and it was a voice she was determined he would hear.

The sexual tension between them had become unbearable, Antonia realised as she walked deeper into the luxurious womb-like interior of her tent. The bridal pavilion was decorated in many shades of crimson, fuchsia and rose-pink silk, and was a delicately scented sanctuary where she was supposed to be resting before the rigours of their week-long marriage ceremony. But wanting Ra’id made rest impossible. It felt as if they were starting over from the moment they had met. Her body yearned for him so shamelessly, only now it was worse, because now she knew what she was missing.

The wedding ceremony was to be at dawn and already a tented city had grown up on the ivory-sugar sand. Lights glinted as far as the eye could see, as Ra’id’s subjects had gathered from every corner of the kingdom to see him wed the girl who had laboured night and day at their side to prepare the renovated fort for the first of the children it would house. Antonia had wanted to name the centre after her mother, but the people had ruled that they would name it after her. Ra’id had compromised when he’d opened the Queen Antonia Children’s Centre, adding a small plaque signed by Antonia in memory of Helena Ruggiero that said quite simply: She looked into the future and believed.

That plaque was the best gift Ra’id could ever have given her, Antonia reflected, gazing at the casket of fabulous jewels he had given her the previous evening. She smiled, remembering him commanding her not to take them off during their wedding ceremony, as she had removed her jewels once before. ‘Our people must see you,’ Ra’id had insisted, when she protested at the size and quantity of the sparking diamonds.

‘They’ll hardly miss me wearing these,’ she had replied, touching the glittering stones he had fastened around her neck. ‘They must be worth a king’s ransom.’

‘No—a sheikh’s,’ he had told her dryly. ‘You may consider me your hostage for life.’

She would, Antonia thought, hugging herself in anticipation.

She turned at the sound of footsteps. The women had come for her, she noticed, her excitement mounting as they slipped silently into the pavilion. She still couldn’t believe they had come to dress their queen.

They bathed her, prepared her, scented her and polished her, until her skin glowed and her body yearned for the touch of Ra’id—her lover, her soul mate, her king. They laced the diamonds in her hair and arranged her filmy, ivory-coloured veil beneath them—the veil that Ra’id would remove in their wedding tent prior to…

The sound of the nafir, the horn with a single true note, was a fortunate disruption to Antonia’s progressively sensual thoughts. There were people to greet, and a ceremony to undergo with grace and dignity, before the longed-for moment when she could be alone with Ra’id.

And when that moment came she trembled like a virgin. Or, at least, that was how she felt as Ra’id removed her veil with a teasing lack of speed. She felt like a virgin waiting to be kissed by her lover for the very first time. But when Ra’id kissed her brow, and then the swell of her belly where their baby lay safe and loved, she knew this was going to be better and far deeper than anything she had experienced before.

‘Our child,’ he murmured, sharing her sense of wonder.

‘Our family,’ she answered, quivering with enough expectation to found a dynasty as Ra’id’s lips brushed her mouth. That kiss was all the more arousing for his lack of haste or pressure, she realised, shivering with frustration beneath Ra’id’s tantalisingly light touch.

‘We have all the time in the world,’ he murmured, teasing her as he always did.

‘Don’t make me wait that long,’ Antonia protested, while Ra’id laughed. And, falling back on the bed, he drew her on top of him. ‘Tiger woman.’

‘Meets rampant lion?’ she suggested, tracing the lines of the tattoo on Ra’id’s chest.

‘An interesting coupling,’ he agreed.