Kitabı oku: «Royal Affairs: Desert Princes & Defiant Virgins»

Three royal sheikhs … used to having everything they want—always! Three feisty women … about to be brides?

Royal AFFAIRS:

DESERT PRINCES & DEFIANT VIRGINS

Fantastic novels from bestsellers:

Sarah Morgan, Susan Mallery

& Kim Lawrence

THE

Royal AFFAIRS:

COLLECTION

Royal AFFAIRS:

DESERT PRINCES

& DEFIANT VIRGINS

The Sheikh’s Virgin Princess SARAH MORGAN

The Sheikh and The Virgin Secretary SUSAN MALLERY

Desert Prince Defiant Virgin KIM LAWRENCE

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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The Sheikh’s Virgin Princess

SARAH MORGAN

About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling author SARAH MORGAN writes lively, sexy stories for Modern™ and Medical™ Romance.

As a child Sarah dreamed of being a writer and although she took a few interesting detours on the way, she is now living that dream. With her writing career she has successfully combined business with pleasure and she firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times.

RT Book Reviews has described her writing as “action packed and sexy” and her books have been nominated for their Reviewer’s Choice Awards and their ‘Top Pick’ slot.

Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or reading Sarah enjoys music, movies and any activity that takes her outdoors.

Readers can find out more about Sarah and her books from her website www.sarahmorgan.com. She can also be found on Facebook and Twitter.

Don’t miss Sarah Morgan’s exciting new novel, Doukakis’s Apprentice, available in July from Mills & Boon® Modern™.

PROLOGUE

‘FIND me a way out of this. And find it fast! Simmering with rage and frustration, the Sultan paced across the thick Persian carpet, and then turned and glared at the group of men who sat in frozen silence around the polished, antique table. ‘Time is running out, and I tell you now that I will not marry that woman!

His announcement was met by a collective gasp of dismay, and his team of advisors conferred hastily, their communication a series of babbled suggestions and nervous gestures unlikely to produce a satisfactory solution to any problem, let alone one of huge national importance.

They are like stunned rabbits, the Sultan thought grimly as he viewed them with mounting exasperation.

‘Your Excellency.’ One of the lawyers rose to his feet, his hands shaking. ‘We have looked through all the past statutes. There is no way out of this marriage.’

‘Then look again.’ His voice deadly soft, the Sultan watched as the man paled. ‘Look again and find something we can use—something that allows us to break this ridiculous contract.’

‘That’s the problem, Your Excellency.’ The lawyer’s fingers gripped the edge of the table that provided the only barrier between him and the Sultan. ‘There isn’t anything. There is no precedent for this. Your father made this agreement with the late Crown Prince of Rovina sixteen years ago, a few months before his untimely death. They were at school together, and in the army—’

‘I don’t need a lecture on why I find myself in this situation,’ the Sultan growled. ‘Just advice on how to extricate myself. Fast.’

‘There is no way out, Your Excellency. You have to marry the Princess Alexandra of Rovina.’ As he delivered the final blow, the lawyer’s voice shook. ‘Perhaps she will be an asset …’ he ventured timidly, his words tailing off as he met the Sultan’s hard, cynical stare.

‘You think so? “The rebel princess”—isn’t that what they call my wife-to-be? Since she was old enough to attend school, this girl has left a trail of chaos behind her. She drives her cars too fast, parties until she is unconscious and treats sex as if it were an Olympic sport. And she’s not even twenty-four years old. Please enlighten me as to how such a woman could possibly be an asset to Zangrar.’

A deathly silence followed his question, and the Sultan raised an eyebrow. ‘Nothing comes to mind?’ Their lack of response frustrated him to the point of explosion, and he turned and walked towards the window, struggling with his temper and hating himself for that loss of control. ‘Leave me. All of you. Leave!’

There was an undignified scrambling, and the room emptied in a matter of moments in response to his abrupt order.

As the door closed behind them, the Sultan rubbed his long fingers over his forehead, trying to ease the ache and access rational thought. He didn’t know which sickened him more: the thought of marriage generally, or the thought of marriage to a woman like the Princess Alexandra. By all accounts she was a woman who appeared to possess all those traits that had made him renounce the institution of marriage at a young age. She was shallow, brainless and a princess only by an unfortunate accident of birth. There was nothing royal about her behaviour, and there was no way she was going to become his wife.

She was exactly the sort of woman who would have caught the attention of his father.

A sound came from behind him, and he turned swiftly, his eyes narrowing as he saw his chief advisor standing behind him. ‘Omar?’

‘Your Excellency.’ The man stepped forward. ‘If I might be permitted to venture a suggestion …’

‘If this suggestion involves marriage, please save your breath.’

‘It is understandable that Your Excellency would have strong feelings on the subject, given your late father’s somewhat unfortunate history.’

The Sultan felt every muscle in his body tense. ‘That is not a subject I wish to discuss.’

‘Indeed, Your Excellency, and yet it is germane to the current situation. You are right to be concerned. The people of Zangrar will not tolerate another woman like your stepmother.’

The Sultan inhaled slowly. ‘You are unusually brave in your choice of conversation topic, Omar. You may have known me since I was two years old, but don’t presume too far. I’m experiencing some difficulties with anger management.’

Omar gave a faint smile. ‘In the circumstances your anger is understandable. What you have achieved for Zangrar since your father’s death is nothing short of amazing. You have given hope to every citizen, and now you are afraid that you will lose what has been gained.’

‘And that is what will happen if I marry this woman.’

‘Possibly. But Your Excellency does need a wife, that fact is not in dispute,’ Omar murmured. ‘Your people are anxious for you to fall in love and wed.’

The Sultan suppressed an unexpected desire to laugh out loud. ‘I am prepared to make many personal sacrifices for the good of my country, but falling in love will not be one of them. In time, I will choose a wife who can give me children. But she will not be some wild, untamed European princess. The people of Zangrar deserve better.’

Omar cleared his throat delicately. ‘But the Princess Alexandra is of royal blood. In one year from now, on her twenty-fifth birthday, her uncle the regent steps down and she ascends the throne of Rovina.’

‘Meaning that she will be in a position to bring even greater chaos to her country?’

Omar allowed himself a smile. ‘Meaning that an alliance between our two countries would offer many increased opportunities that would benefit Zangrar. Trade, tourism—’

‘Am I supposed to overlook her embarrassing reputation and overall lack of dignity?’

‘The Princess Alexandra is said to be quite astonishingly beautiful. Given your own success with women, the simplest approach might be for Your Excellency simply to urge her to moderate her behaviour. It is no secret that you enjoy the company of beautiful women.’

‘In a wife I place moral stature above any physical attributes,’ the Sultan growled, feeling his frustration mount. ‘However, my views on the subject are apparently not relevant, since it appears that there is no way I can break this ridiculous contract my father made.’ Of the legacy of stupidity and weakness left by his father, this was the issue that angered him most, because it threatened everything he had worked for.

Omar’s expression was thoughtful. ‘That is true, Your Excellency. There is no way you can break the contract.’

Something in his tone made the Sultan narrow his eyes. ‘Omar?’

His chief advisor smiled placidly. ‘I have studied the contract in minute detail, and it is true that there is no way for you to break the agreement that your father made.’ He paused. ‘But she can.’

The Sultan straightened his powerful shoulders. ‘You’re saying that the princess has the right to veto this marriage?’

‘Absolutely. But, before Your Excellency becomes unduly encouraged by that option, I should tell you that there has been no hint of dissent from the principality of Rovina. It would appear that the princess is eager to marry you.’

‘And we both know why.’ His mouth set in a grim line, the Sultan contemplated everything he’d read about the Princess Alexandra. ‘Rovina’s coffers are empty, and her spending powers are as legendary as her rebel behaviour.’

‘That could be part of it, but maybe not all. Your Excellency is extremely handsome. You are considered to be something of a matrimonial prize.’

The Sultan gave a humourless laugh and then paced over to the window, his expression bleak. A prize? If the princess knew what she would be taking on, then she wouldn’t be so eager to proceed with the wedding. As cold as the desert at night—wasn’t that how the last female in his life had bitterly described him when he’d abruptly ended the relationship?

He stared down into the courtyard below, wondering why that description didn’t bother him more. Possibly because it was true. He wasn’t capable of love; he knew that. But nor did he see that as a reason for regret. He’d seen what love could do to a person, and he wasn’t interested in sacrificing his judgement in exchange for emotional anguish. What did interest him was acting responsibly for the good of his country. And marrying the most notorious princess in Europe wasn’t going to achieve that objective.

He turned to Omar, his movements swift and decisive. ‘You are sure that the princess has the right to break this contract?’

‘Absolutely. The only person who can free you from this wedding is the woman herself.’

‘Then it will be done.’ The Sultan gave a satisfied nod. ‘Omar, you have excelled yourself.’

‘Your Excellency, I hardly need to remind you that the princess does want to marry you, so the details of the contract are somewhat irrelevant.’

‘Not irrelevant,’ the Sultan drawled softly. ‘The princess may wish to marry me at the moment, but given time and a little—persuasion—I’m confident that she will soon see that this marriage is not for her.’

‘You plan to influence her decision, Your Excellency?’

‘Absolutely. The problem is solved, Omar. The Princess Alexandra is going to decide that marriage to me would be an extremely bad idea. And, given that most women are appallingly indecisive, we are going to offer her every assistance in reaching that conclusion. I intend to see to it personally.’ He gave a grim smile.

No matter what she had in mind, she would not be marrying the Sultan.

CHAPTER ONE

THE blades of the swords clashed viciously, and the room rang with the sharp sound of metal on metal.

Karim tightened his hand on the hilt of the sabre and lunged, sending his blade towards his opponent’s torso with a burst of explosive power that drew a collective gasp from the observers gathered around the room.

Karim ignored them. All his attention was focused on his opponent, whose identity was concealed by the dark mesh of the protective fencing-mask.

Attack, counter attack. Lunge, feint, parry.

They fought with relentless aggression, each trying to outmanoeuvre the other as they fenced for supremacy. The referee stood frozen to the spot, silenced by the sheer ferocity of the duel taking place in front of him.

Even as he fought, Karim was studying his opponent, trying to anticipate his moves. And failing. For the first time in his life, he was equally matched. His nameless, faceless opponent was changing his strategy for each attack, his movements swift and skilled, his footwork immaculate. The man was slight of build, but he moved with the speed and agility of a true athlete.

Karim felt the sweat prickle between his shoulder blades as the pace and intensity of the fight increased.

When he’d been informed that the Princess Alexandra had insisted on watching him fence before agreeing to let him be her bodyguard for the journey to Zangrar, he’d been both amused and irritated. Clearly, she was a real prima donna. It was the first time he’d fought in response to a feminine whim, and he’d strolled into the room prepared to thrash his opponent in a matter of minutes. Instead he was being seriously challenged in a sport at which he’d considered himself unbeatable.

Unaccustomed to meeting anyone who had either the nerve or the skill to take him on, Karim had been pleasantly surprised to discover that his anonymous opponent possessed both qualities in abundance, along with technical and tactical depth. He was even more astonished to discover that he was enjoying himself.

Who was the man in the mask?

Protocol demanded that fencing opponents salute each other at the start of each bout, and his opponent had observed that protocol, but he’d also entered the room fully prepared, his mask already in place.

Accustomed to boredom, Karim felt the adrenaline surge inside him, and vowed to reveal the identity of his partner. Whoever it was would be fencing him again, he vowed as he parried and then thrust, his movements confident and aggressive. The blade struck home in a lightning-fast attack, the force of the blow absorbed by the flex of the blade.

His opponent stepped backwards, his body already poised for the next attack, and Karim gave a low laugh of admiration. Although the man was slightly lacking in height, he was bold and fearless, attacking with an energy and confidence that was unusual.

Briefly distracted by girlish laughter, Karim cast a swift, irritated glance towards the spectators, his attention momentarily drawn to a group of women watching with flirtatious interest.

Which one of those was the Princess Alexandra?

And what indulgent, feminine whim had driven her to demand that he prove himself in this fight before allowing him the honour of becoming her bodyguard? Obviously she was spoiled, bored and entertained by the idea of men fighting for her. Did she enjoy blood sports?

He turned his attention back to his adversary, anger giving speed to his attack, but his opponent parried with a renewed burst of energy, grimly determined not to yield a single point.

Karim was as intrigued as he was challenged.

If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that the duel was personal.

And yet how could it be personal when they didn’t even know each other?

Deciding that the match had gone on long enough, Karim made the most of his superior strength and speed and executed a perfect lunge that won him the final point.

Breathing heavily, he dragged off his mask.

‘My match.’ He held out his hand as protocol dictated. ‘So, having slain the dragon, I presume I’ve now won the right to protect the princess. Perhaps you would introduce me so that I can be given my next challenge? Pistols at dawn, perhaps? Remove your mask. I deserve to see the face of the man I just fought.’

His opponent hesitated, and then dragged off the mask. ‘Not a man.’ She spoke in a warm, husky voice designed by mother nature to bring the entire opposite sex to its knees, and Karim inhaled sharply as a mass of golden, coppery hair tumbled over narrow shoulders. Even though he knew the dangers that often lurked behind extreme physical beauty, he was blinded.

Observing his reaction with wry amusement, she held out a slender hand and spoke again. This time her voice was soft, as if she were afraid of being overheard. ‘I’m Princess Alexandra. And you’re supposed to be my bodyguard. The problem is, I don’t actually want a bodyguard. You weren’t supposed to win the match. I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey.’

She’d lost!

Desperately hoping that he couldn’t see how much her legs were shaking, Alexa watched incredulity flicker across his handsome face as he acknowledged her identity. And he was handsome, she conceded as she brushed her damp hair away from her flushed cheeks. Handsome and strong.

She’d felt the power in his body as he’d fought with what could only be described as restrained masculine aggression. And she sensed that he’d been far from reaching the limits of his capabilities. His broad shoulders and muscular physique suggested that fencing was only one of many activities that he enjoyed in his pursuit of a physical challenge.

She should have picked a different sport.

And now he was watching her intently, his dark gaze arrogant and assured as he slowly loosened the fastening at the neck of his jacket to reveal a tantalizing hint of bronzed skin, shiny with the sweat of physical exertion. His eyes demanded that she look only at him, as if he were determined to read everything about her in one searing glance.

Trapped by the force of his bold gaze, Alexa felt something dangerous and unfamiliar flicker to life, and then a hot, instantaneous explosion of sexual awareness engulfed her. Her body burned and melted, and the feeling was deeply shocking because, although she was accustomed to being on the receiving end of male attention, she was not accustomed to responding.

Her knees weakened by the fire in her pelvis, she nevertheless forced herself to hold his gaze, waiting for him to back down and display the deference and respect that she knew was due to her.

He was a bodyguard.

She was a royal princess. Despite her less-than-enviable position in the royal household, she was accustomed to being greeted with the appropriate formality by strangers, but this man clearly wasn’t daunted or in any way impressed by her title or position. Instead he held himself tall and proud, his posture one of authority and command, as if he was used to giving orders and being instantly obeyed.

Clearly, he was someone extremely senior in the Sultan’s security team, Alexa mused as her eyes trailed from his almost-perfect bone structure to the firm, sensual curve of his mouth. Powerful, she thought. If she had to find one word to describe the man in front of her, then it would be powerful, and she felt her stomach lurch. When the Sultan had promised a bodyguard to escort her on the journey, she’d expected someone who would follow orders.

This man didn’t look as though he’d ever followed an order in his life.

Which made the situation extremely awkward. She didn’t want him as her bodyguard. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust anyone. Whatever happened, she had to be in charge of her own safety; it was the only way she would ever escape from the tangled mess of her life.

She couldn’t believe that this moment had arrived—that she’d actually survived this far. Her brain fluttered around the edges of panic, as it always did when she considered her impending marriage to the Sultan of Zangrar.

It wasn’t that she was afraid of him. She wasn’t. Having lived the life she’d lived for the past sixteen years, she no longer cared that he was reputed to be ruthless, controlling and totally devoid of emotion. In a way, it actually helped, knowing that he didn’t have a sensitive side, because she didn’t have to feel guilty about forcing him into a marriage that was so lacking in romance.

There was no escaping from the fact that, in normal circumstances, this marriage would be the last thing she wanted. But her circumstances weren’t normal, and this marriage wasn’t about what was best for her, it was about what was best for Rovina.

Her hand tightened on the hilt of the sabre. She’d reviewed her options so many times that her brain felt raw with thinking, and no matter how often she circled round the issue she always ended up at the same place.

The future of Rovina depended on her marriage to the Sultan.

And now that goal was finally within reach.

Only a journey now stood between her and Zangrar.

But it would be a hazardous journey, and she would need to have her wits about her. Ironic though it seemed, the last thing she wanted was a bodyguard. Having him there would simply put her life at greater risk.

A giggle from the women watching reminded her that they were becoming the subject of scrutiny and gossip, and Alexa smiled, reminding herself that she had an image to keep up: the image of a woman with nothing more serious on her mind except the pursuit of frivolous pleasures.

‘You can go home, bodyguard.’ She removed the glove from her fencing hand and spoke softly so that only he could hear. ‘I don’t need your protection.’ Her words provoked a sharp intake of breath from the man standing in front of her.

‘My protection is not optional.’ His dark eyes glinted dangerously as he studied her face. ‘You and I need to speak alone. Now.’

Startled by his autocratic tone, Alexa opened her mouth to refuse, but he closed long, strong fingers around her wrist and propelled her bodily towards the ante-room where the fencing equipment was stored, apparently indifferent to the curious stares of those watching.

He’d been fighting a woman?

Tension erupting inside him, Karim released her and slammed the door to the ante-room shut with the flat of his hand, his eyes fixed on the cascading mass of soft, silky curls that poured down her back. Her hair was the colour of a desert sunset. And that first glance into her eyes had been like throwing himself onto a burning spear. His body had been consumed by the most basic of sexual urges, the chemistry between them so hot and instantaneous that for a moment he’d been able to think only of sex.

‘Unlock the door.’ Apparently unaware of his response to her, she gave the order sharply, a note of panic in her voice. ‘Unlock it now.’

‘I take orders only from the Sultan himself.’

‘Please …’ Her face had lost most of its colour, and he frowned.

‘You have just faced my blade without showing the slightest consideration for your personal safety,’ he drawled softly. ‘And yet you expect me to believe that you’re afraid of a locked door?’

‘Just open it,’ she said in a hoarse voice. ‘Please open it.’

Perplexed and exasperated in equal measure, Karim turned the key, watching as she relaxed. The rebel princess was afraid of a locked door? It was so incredibly unlikely that he almost laughed. If she was that easy to frighten then it should take very little to persuade her that life in the harsh climate of Zangrar, in the company of a ruthless Sultan, was definitely not for her.

‘I don’t fight women, Your Highness.’

She stilled and then gave a tiny shrug, some of her defiance returning. ‘You do now.’ With a single, graceful movement of her shoulders, she removed her jacket. ‘And, anyway, you won. Your ego is still intact.’

‘My ego requires no protection.’ He dragged his eyes away from her hair with difficulty, his brain and body fighting a vicious battle for supremacy. Intellect warred with basic masculine instinct, and the sudden tightening of his body reminded him that the power of basic masculine instinct was never to be underestimated. ‘I could have hurt you.’

Only now, when she stood without the thick, protective padding of the fencing jacket, could he see how fine-boned and delicately built she was. Her exquisitely perfect face revealed centuries of breeding, and Karim studied her closely, trying to reconcile the innocence of that face with her debauched reputation. And she studied him back, her gaze fearless and unfaltering.

Then she turned and hung her jacket in the cupboard. ‘You’re good. But you’ve had a wasted journey. I don’t want a bodyguard.’

‘Your wishes in the matter are irrelevant, Your Highness.’ Whether she wanted him or not, she was getting him. His mission was to persuade her to change her mind about marrying the Sultan, and he needed to be with her on the journey if he was to achieve that goal.

Her glance was curious. ‘Do you guard the Sultan himself?’

It wasn’t a question he’d anticipated, and it took him a moment to formulate an acceptable answer. ‘I have ultimate responsibility for the Sultan’s safety, yes.’

‘In that case, I’m sure he’s missing you. Go home.’ With a swift movement of her fingers, she removed the plastron, the half-jacket that protected her fencing arm. ‘Use your talents elsewhere. I don’t need them.’

‘You are no longer planning to marry the Sultan?’

‘Of course I’m marrying the Sultan. But I don’t need anyone with me on the journey. I prefer to arrange my own protection.’

‘And who have you selected to provide this service?’

‘Me.’ Her tone suggested that she considered the answer obvious. ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that, when it comes to safety issues, the only person you can really depend on is yourself.’

‘You plan to travel through the desert alone and unaccompanied?’

‘Absolutely. And I hope no one threatens me, because I’m lethal when I’m threatened.’ As if determined to convince him of that fact, she fixed him with her cool, blue stare, and Karim lifted an eyebrow.

‘Clearly you are unaware of the fact that many men find a woman’s vulnerability to be one of her greatest charms.’

‘Those same men undoubtedly have miniscule egos and need to slay dragons in order to demonstrate their masculinity.’ She stooped to put her mask and glove in the cupboard. ‘I refuse to put my safety at risk in order to pander to a man’s need to flex his muscles in public. I slay my own dragons.’

For the first time in his adult life, Karim found himself speechless. He’d never met a woman like her before. ‘You cannot seriously be intending to make the journey to Zangrar alone? You have no knowledge of the route.’

‘I can read a map, use satellite navigation and I can talk on the phone. Princesses have a multitude of skills these days. We’re a very versatile breed. Haven’t you heard?’

What he’d heard was that the Princess Alexandra was a real rebel, and he could see that the rumours had foundation. There was a fire in her eyes and defiance in her stance, and even after five minutes in her company he could see that she was no man’s idea of a gentle, compliant wife.

She was a handful.

Even while contemplating the disaster that would ensue if this woman ever arrived in Zangrar, Karim was reflecting on the fact that this next battle between them might be every bit as stimulating as the fencing. Removing his own jacket, he stretched out a hand and dropped it onto the nearest chair. ‘Clearly you’ve never aspired to be like the princesses in the fairy stories.’

‘Passive victims, you mean?’ A thoughtful frown touched her forehead and then she gave a careless shrug. ‘I wouldn’t be stupid enough to take a poisoned apple from a stepmother who hates me, and I’ve always hated sewing, so there’s no way I’d prick my finger on a spinning wheel.’

‘But you are planning to marry a sultan,’ Karim pointed out silkily, and she smiled, showing no signs of trepidation at the prospect.

‘That’s right. I am.’

‘And the Sultan insists that you are escorted on the journey, Your Highness.’

The princess turned to face him, and their eyes locked in a battle of wills.

Supremely confident that there was only one possible outcome, Karim crossed his arms and waited.

And waited.

‘Fine.’ Her gaze slid from his, and she toed off her fencing shoes with a graceful movement. ‘If you want to come along then I suppose I can’t stop you. I just hope you don’t regret it. Who is guarding the Sultan while you are watching over me?’

Surprised by the speed with which success had been achieved, Karim felt a flash of suspicion. What was she up to? ‘His Excellency is presently on an important and most secret mission that relates to the future stability of Zangrar. His security is being handled—elsewhere.’

She put her shoes in the cupboard. ‘You haven’t told me your name.’

Distracted by the thrust of her breasts under the simple white tee-shirt, it took him a moment to answer. ‘You may call me Karim, Your Highness.’

‘And you may call me Alexa. I’m not big on protocol.’

Remembering everything he’d read about her lifestyle, Karim had little trouble believing that statement. ‘It would not be appropriate for me to call you by your first name.’

‘You weren’t worrying about what was appropriate when you dragged me into this room.’ Her gaze was speculative.

‘Clearly you’re a man accustomed to acting on your own initiative.’

‘You want a bodyguard who waits for permission before saving you?’

‘I don’t want a bodyguard at all.’ Tucking the last of her clothes into the cupboard, she slammed the door shut. ‘If there’s any saving to be done, then I prefer to do it myself. Let’s get that straight before we leave this room.’

Karim clenched his jaw in order to refrain from pointing out that the only thing she needed saving from was herself. Only the month before she’d been removed unconscious from a nightclub, and he knew that she’d had at least two car crashes and a boating accident in the past year, and from all of them she’d narrowly escaped with her life. The Princess Alexandra was clearly as reckless as she was bold.

‘The desert is full of dangers, many of which are concealed from all but those who were born and bred there.’

‘I have lived with danger all my life. I have a question for you, Karim.’ Without glancing in his direction, she slipped on a slim-fitting jumper in a deep shade of green. She still wore her fencing breeches, and he saw that her legs were long and slim.

‘Ask your question.’

‘How do you feel about the Sultan? Would you die for him?’

Karim reflected on the irony of that question. ‘Without a doubt.’

Scooping up her hair, she pinned it haphazardly on top of her head, disregarding the fact that several strands immediately escaped and tumbled down around her face. ‘And just how much do you know about my country, Karim?’

With perfect recall, Karim summarized the briefing he’d received. ‘Rovina is a small principality ruled by your uncle, the Regent, who has been in power since your parents were killed in an accident. You were the only heir, and too young to ascend the throne.’ He saw darkness flicker across her beautiful face, and wondered briefly whether that tragic event had been responsible for her wild behaviour. Without the guiding hand of a father, had she gone off the rails? ‘Your late father and the Sultan’s late father were friends, and made the agreement for you and the present sultan to wed when you reached the age of twenty-four. Your birthday is in four days.’ Was it his imagination or was her breathing suddenly more rapid?

‘You’ve done your homework.’

‘One year after that, on the day of your twenty-fifth birthday, you will be crowned Queen of Rovina. Knowing that, I am intrigued as to why you would wish to move to a different continent and marry a man you’ve never even met, and whose culture and beliefs are so different from your own.’ If he talked her out of the marriage now, he could save himself an arduous journey with a woman who was undoubtedly going to whine and moan her way across the baking desert, a climate not known for nurturing patience in those who experienced it.

‘You don’t think I should marry the Sultan?’

‘On the contrary.’ Karim issued the denial smoothly. ‘I’m sure a marriage between you would be a great success. Your Highness is clearly both brave and bold, and you will need both qualities in abundance if you are to tame our sultan.’

‘Tame?’

‘I once heard a woman remark that the Sultan of Zangrar resembles a tiger who has been taken from the wild and forced to live in captivity.’ Satisfied that he had her attention, Karim delivered what he hoped passed for a sympathetic smile. ‘The woman who eventually shares his cage would have to be particularly courageous.’

Alexa laughed. ‘If you’re trying to frighten me, Karim, then you’ve picked the wrong woman.’

‘I’m not trying to frighten you,’ he lied, concealing his surprise at her laughter. ‘On the contrary, the more I see of you, the greater my conviction that you are a match for the Sultan even in one of his most dangerous moods. I just wanted to be sure that you know your own mind. If you wish to back out of the agreement, then you may do so.’

‘I don’t wish that.’

As he stared into her wide, blue eyes he felt another powerful tug of chemistry followed by a vicious tightening in his groin as white-hot lust shot through him. He wondered whether it was too soon to inform her that there was only one way the Sultan would ever want her—and that was flat on her back, naked and without the wedding ring. ‘Clearly, there is no place for love or romance in your life.’

Her beautiful blue eyes shone with genuine amusement. ‘Are you telling me that you believe in love, Karim? Are you a romantic man?’

‘This conversation is not about me.’

‘Judging from your tone, I’ve touched on a sensitive subject.’ She studied him in silence for a moment and then paced over to the window, her eyes flickering to the palace grounds. ‘I’m not pretending this marriage has anything to do with love, because we both know that it doesn’t …’ Her words tailed off and she frowned, as if surprised at herself. ‘Why am I telling you this? My reasons for wishing to marry the Sultan are not your concern. Your brief is simply to escort me safely to Zangrar.’

Karim wondered what she would say if she knew that his brief was a great deal more complex than that. The Princess Alexandra was the only one who could break this ridiculous agreement, and it was his personal responsibility to ensure that she did exactly that.

She was not a suitable wife for a sultan.

Her motive for the wedding was clearly greed, and the fact that greed alone was sufficient to compel her to marry a man of whom she knew nothing, sickened him. A woman like her would do untold damage to Zangrar, and threaten the enormous progress they had already made.

Clearly unaware that Karim’s own objective was in direct conflict with hers, Alexa paced back and forth across the room, her eyes on the door as if she expected to be disturbed at any moment. ‘So, if you insist on traveling with me, then you’d better tell me your plans for the journey.’

‘We leave at dawn. The Sultan’s private jet is waiting at the airport.’

Had he not been watching closely, he might have missed the way that her slender fingers suddenly locked and unlocked in a manifestly agitated gesture. The princess was nervous about something. The question was, what?

‘My uncle is aware of those plans?’

As she turned to face him, he could almost feel her anxiety sharpening the atmosphere of the tiny room.

‘He requested a full itinerary.’

‘And you gave it to him. Excellent.’ She was silent for a moment, apparently thinking. ‘Then we leave at dawn. My uncle wishes you to join us for dinner. As the Sultan’s envoy, you are the guest of honour. But I have one more question before we leave this room.’

‘Ask it.’

‘Are you truly good at your job, Karim? Are you really the best?’

‘Your wellbeing is my highest priority, Your Highness. You have no reason to worry about your safety.’

Her laugh was hollow. ‘You think not?’

Was she afraid of some sort of physical threat? Resolving to question the palace security-team in greater depth, Karim frowned. ‘No one would dare lay a finger on the Sultan’s future bride.’

The princess watched him for a long moment, her wide blue eyes fixed on his face with disturbing intensity. ‘Except, perhaps, those who don’t want me to be the Sultan’s bride.’

CHAPTER TWO

ALEXA sat at the long table in the banqueting hall, her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold a knife and fork. She was so on edge that it was almost impossible to sit still. If it wasn’t for the fact that her uncle would have become suspicious, she would have excused herself from dinner. As it was, she didn’t dare. Too much was at stake.

Although she was staring at her plate, she nevertheless saw Karim’s hand reach for his wine, and her attention was momentarily drawn to the strength of his long, bronzed fingers. Then his arm brushed against hers and that simple, innocent contact was enough to send heat rushing to her pelvis.

Instantly she shifted away from him, bewildered and alarmed by her inexplicable reaction to him. What was the matter with her? Why was her body selecting this particular moment to notice the finer points of the male physique? Had her mind elevated him to hero status simply because he’d insisted on remaining by her side for the journey? Surely not, when she knew perfectly well that having him there was going to threaten everything that she’d been working towards.

She needed to be the one in charge, and she definitely couldn’t risk having some autocratic, commanding bodyguard thinking that he knew what was best for her. And she certainly wasn’t going to do anything as foolish as trusting anyone with her future.

‘You’re unusually quiet, Alexa.’ Her uncle William’s cultured tones cut through the murmur of conversation around the table, and he raised his glass to Karim. ‘I hope you have decent shops in Zangrar. Alexa isn’t going to be happy somewhere that doesn’t have shops. All that glitters has to be gold, that’s her motto—isn’t that right, my sweet?’

Knowing from experience that her uncle was always at his most deadly when he used his caring voice, Alexa felt a flutter of panic and focused on the subtle flex of muscle in Karim’s forearm as he returned his glass to the table.

She hoped he was as tough as he looked. He’d unwittingly landed himself right in the middle of palace crossfire with no flak jacket to protect him, and she knew that if he happened to be standing between her and her uncle when the final moment came then he’d die alongside her.

Her conscience nagged her.

Why hadn’t he just gone home as she’d ordered?

She hadn’t wanted to drag anyone else into this.

Aware that her uncle was watching her, Alexa faked a yawn and tried to look like a girl incapable of planning anything other than her next shopping trip. ‘I’ve heard that some of the souks sell amazing silks. I’m looking forward to designing myself a whole new wardrobe.’

‘I admit that I’ve probably overindulged her a little since her parents were killed.’ William addressed his remark to Karim. ‘I just hope that the Sultan will be as generous as he is wealthy.’

‘The Sultan’s generosity is not in question, but it is hard to spend money in the desert, and that is where much of his time is currently spent.’ Karim spoke in a matter-of-fact voice and Alexa turned her head and looked at him, unable to hide her surprise.

‘He lives in the desert?’

‘Since the death of his father, the Sultan has spent much of his time in the desert with his people. His wife will be expected to support him in that role. If you wish to augment your wardrobe, you might be wise to include robes and sturdy desert-boots.’ He reached for his glass. ‘The sort that repel the bite of a snake.’

Reflecting on the fact that dealing with snakes would be a piece of cake after living with her uncle for sixteen years, Alexa gave a shrug. ‘I’m sure I can live in the desert if I have to. I mean, when all is said and done, it’s just a giant beach, really. Sand, sand and more sand.’ She kept her tone as light as the subject matter. ‘I’m sure the Sultan isn’t going to want his wife dressed in rags. With all that money at his disposal, he’s hardly going to begrudge me a few pairs of shoes.’

William’s eyes narrowed. ‘He might, when he finds out how much they cost! Karim, I’ve been telling my niece that this marriage is ridiculous. Her father arranged it when she was a child, before he had any idea what sort of a woman she would become. And the truth is that she is not a woman who is going to be happy incarcerated in a dusty old fortress in the middle of a baking-hot desert.’ He softened his words with a smile and reached for his wine. ‘No offence.’

Alexa felt Karim’s sudden stillness, and wondered whether it was possible to die of embarrassment.

Reminding herself that Karim’s thoughts and feelings had to be secondary to William’s, she forced the expected response from her mouth. ‘I’m sure the Sultan entertains occasionally. As long as there’s a party going on, and everyone is having a good time, it doesn’t really matter where it is.’ Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Karim’s long, strong fingers tighten on the stem of his glass.

‘Parties are not high on the Sultan’s agenda. When he entertains, the guest list includes foreign dignitaries and other heads of state. The purpose of the gathering is all about diplomacy and international relations.’

He obviously thought she was shallow-minded and frivolous, which didn’t surprise her. What did surprise her was the fact that she minded what he thought. Why would she care about the opinions of a bodyguard? His views were irrelevant. They had to be. Tonight of all nights it was essential that she maintained her image of a woman who thought about nothing deeper than what to wear at her next social engagement. If William knew what was truly on her mind, he would be turning all of the keys in all of the doors.

‘Foreign dignitaries sound pretty dull.’ She suppressed a yawn. ‘I’m sure I’ll be able to help the Sultan liven things up a bit.’

William’s gaze flickered from her to Karim. ‘Her head is full of romance. She’s expecting Arab stallions, a desert and a glamorous Sultan who is going to sweep her off her expensively clad feet.’

Aware that the expression on Karim’s face had gone from mild impatience to thunderous disapproval, Alexa wondered if he was about to lose his temper.

Her heart thumping against her chest, she braced herself for a terrifying display of masculine aggression—but when he finally spoke Karim’s tone seemed almost bored.

‘There is nothing romantic about the desert. It is a harsh, unforgiving landscape that contains any number of threats. A sandstorm is one of the most deadly natural phenomena known to man, and the desert in Zangrar is inhabited by scorpions and snakes so dangerous that one bite produces sufficient venom to kill ten grown men.’

‘Scorpions and snakes. You see, Alexa?’ William leaned back, and someone hastily stepped forward to remove his plate. ‘It is a long way from Rovina.’

‘Indeed, it is,’ Alexa said quietly. She was banking on it. ‘Nevertheless, my father arranged this marriage, and I shall do as he wished. I owe it to his memory.’

And she owed it to the people of Rovina. The only way she was ever going to reach her twenty-fifth birthday was if she married the Sultan.

Karim’s dark gaze fixed on her with brooding intensity. ‘You are very young, Your Highness. Your uncle is obviously worrying about how you will fare in a country like Zangrar. You would do well to listen to his advice.’

‘I’m not afraid of anything I’ll find in Zangrar.’

‘Then perhaps you are not sufficiently enlightened as to exactly what awaits you.’ He spoke softly, his words only audible to her, and she lifted her gaze to his, wondering what he was alluding to.

Their eyes met and held, and Alexa felt a shiver of awareness and a flash of the same sexual chemistry that had singed her earlier in the day. ‘You’re doing it again—trying to frighten me.’

He lifted a dark eyebrow in sardonic appraisal. ‘Are you frightened, Your Highness?’

‘No.’ But that was only because she knew what true fear was.

Alexa glanced across the table at William and saw him smiling at her. Her pulse-rate doubled. If the Sultan’s bodyguard really wanted to know what frightened her, then he need look no further than the man sitting across from them. Over the years she’d learned to read her uncle’s moods, and if there was one thing that scared her more than his temper it was his smile.

His smile widened as he looked at her. ‘I hear she fenced you earlier, Karim. Hardly a ladylike sport, I’m sure you’ll agree. I think you’re going to find that the Princess Alexandra is unusual in many ways. Most of the time you wouldn’t even know she was a princess, from the way she behaves.’

Alexa noticed the sudden tightening of Karim’s mouth, and knew that William’s repeated attempts to undermine her were succeeding. Not for the first time in her life, she was seriously tempted to pick up her knife and silence her uncle in the most permanent way possible.

‘I have many qualities which the Sultan will appreciate,’ she said lightly, and then saw the glimmer of disdain in the bodyguard’s eyes and realized that she’d actually made the situation worse, not better.

Not those qualities! she wanted to shout. Why were men so basic? Why did they only ever think about one thing—sex? Well, actually, it was two things. Sex and power. Forget everything else—they seemed to be the only two things that motivated the male species.

And normally she didn’t even think about sex. So why was it that, since the Sultan’s bodyguard had removed his fencing mask and revealed his impossibly handsome face, she’d thought about little else?

Or perhaps it was just that this whole situation was turning her slowly loopy. There was so much at stake. And so many things that could still go wrong.

She was a nervous wreck.

Marrying the Sultan was the only way that Rovina would have a future, and if anything happened to prevent that …

Reminding herself that this was not the time to lose her cool, she allowed herself a small sip of wine.

William gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Talking of qualities, most of yours are displayed over the front page of today’s newspapers. I think the headline read something like, “rebel princess hot for the harem?” I mean, really—’ he gave a weary shake of his head ‘—newspapers have no sense of moral restraint. Always digging up the past when it should be forgotten. We just have to hope for your sake that the Sultan isn’t expecting a virgin bride. Perhaps his reputation is way off the mark and he’s one of those rare men who values experience over innocence. I’m so sorry, Alexa.’

So was she.

Under no illusions as to why the papers had chosen to reprint those pictures, anger suddenly burst through her usual cautious restraint. ‘When the time comes, I intend to tell the Sultan the truth about my life. The whole truth, Uncle William. And he will believe me.’ She caught Karim’s astonished glance and saw the deadly gleam light her uncle’s eyes.

The emotion drained out of her, and she started to shake.

Why had she said that?

She’d gained nothing by that remark. Nothing at all. And she could have lost everything.

This was not the time to antagonize a man as dangerous as her uncle, and she knew that. Since when had she allowed anger to incinerate common sense?

‘You’re my niece,’ William said smoothly. ‘I only want what is best for you, and Zangrar is such a terribly long way away. I’m so afraid that something dreadful might happen to you on your journey. You know how accident prone you are.’

Alexa felt her heart stumble and her palms grow damp. He was threatening her.

‘Karim will ensure my safety,’ she said in a clear voice, hoping desperately that Karim wouldn’t choose this moment to mention the fact that she’d tried to dispense with his services.

William gently dabbed his mouth with his napkin. ‘If anything were to happen to you, I don’t know what I’d do.’

He would have achieved his lifelong ambition.

He would finally have destroyed her family.

Suddenly Alexa felt bitterly cold. ‘Your care and concern is always touching, Uncle William. My father would have become quite emotional, had he been able to see everything you’ve done for me since his death.’ Unable to share his table a moment longer, she rose to her feet. ‘We leave in the morning. I need my passport.’ And this was the moment she’d been dreading.

For sixteen years he’d held her passport.

Would he finally return it to her?

William was silent for a long moment, and then he gave a gentle smile. ‘You are such a featherbrain. I will give it to Karim for safekeeping.’

No, no, no!

Her stomach turned over. She had to have her passport. And the fact that William was prepared to give it to Karim was of no use to her at all, because she knew that he had no intention of allowing her to leave in the morning.

Which was why she had no intention of waiting until morning.

Alexa felt a great weight in her chest. So much depended on the next few hours. If she couldn’t gain possession of her passport, then she couldn’t take the next step and everything would have been for nothing.

Trying to think her way through the dark mists of panic, she tried to look relaxed. ‘That’s fine. Give my passport to Karim.’

One way or another she would just have to find a way of retrieving it.

She just hoped the bodyguard was a heavy sleeper.

The room was dark but she could see the faint outline of his body lying under the covers. He was asleep, thank goodness. She’d been relying on that fact.

Where was he likely to have put her passport?

Seeing his jacket on the back of a chair, she moved towards it with the stealth of a burglar, her bare feet making no sound on the carpet. She reached out a hand, and then gasped with shock as someone caught her from behind, unbalanced her and pushed her down hard onto the bed. Flattened against the mattress and panicking, Alexa fought like an animal in a trap, using all the skills she’d learned to defend herself. She twisted, bit and punched, but as her fist connected with solid muscle she realized desperately that this was a hopelessly uneven contest, and she was going to lose.

No! This wasn’t going to happen to her. Not when she was so close to her final goal. Driven by desperation, she managed to free one leg and kicked hard.

With a grunt of pain, her assailant shifted his body over hers, caught her wrists in a vice-like grip and muttered something in a foreign language.

She recognized the voice. ‘Karim?’

She felt him still, and then he pinned her to the bed with his powerful body and reached out a hand to flick on the light.

Alexa found herself staring into dark pools of anger and went limp with relief. ‘I thought—’

‘You thought what? You were expecting someone else?’ He stared down at her with incredulous disbelief. ‘This is my bedroom.’

‘Yes, I know that.’ The weight of his body made it hard for her to breathe. ‘But I saw the lump in the bed and assumed you were asleep. Then someone grabbed me from behind so I thought it was—’ She broke off, unwilling to betray more than she had to.

‘The lump in the bed was the pillow. I heard you outside the door. I wanted to see who was so keen to enter my bedroom unannounced. What is this, Your Highness—you are now testing me in unarmed combat, or did you have an entirely different reason for visiting me in my bedroom in the middle of the night?’ His meaning was clear enough, and suddenly she was breathlessly aware of the strength in his bare shoulders, of the intimate pressure of his body against hers.

‘I need my passport. That is why I was in your bedroom.’

‘Why would you need your passport at three in the morning? Are you planning a trip?’

She tried to wriggle free, but his weight held her pinned to the mattress. ‘It’s none of your business.’

‘If it involves your passport, then it’s my business.’

Alexa tried a different tack. ‘The Sultan would not want you lying on top of his bride!’

‘Given that I’m apparently just one in a long line of men who have adopted this exact position, I think it’s a little late for that argument to be useful.’ His soft tone was faintly mocking. ‘My job is to escort you safely to him. If you’re intending to vanish in the middle of the night, then your travel plans are of considerable interest to me. Start talking, Your Highness.’

The weight of his body was impossibly distracting, and Alexa suddenly found that she couldn’t say a word. Trapped by his virile strength and the fire in his eyes, she just gazed at him, her body paralyzed by a shockingly powerful explosion of sexual excitement.

And perhaps he detected her feelings, because he shifted slightly above her, his attitude softening from aggressor to seducer.

Alexa pressed her hand to his chest intending to push him away, but her fingertips registered warm, naked flesh. Male body-hair and hard muscle singed her nerve endings, but instead of pushing or even drawing her hand away, her fingers made their own decision and slid upwards, exploring the latent power of his physique with unconscious feminine fascination.

Karim inhaled sharply and growled something that she didn’t understand.

And then they were kissing.

His mouth was demanding and fiercely possessive, and her body ignited like a dry forest in the heat of summer as every single part of her was sucked in by the ferocious heat generated by that kiss.

She felt the hot slide of his tongue against hers, and the erotic intimacy of that connection drained her body of strength and purpose. She forgot what she was doing in his room. She forgot everything as her body was filled with a languorous, dangerous warmth, and his kiss transformed her from a thinking woman to someone only capable of feeling.

Dimly, she registered the hardness of his body against hers and the steady thud of his heartbeat under her clinging fingers.

And then suddenly he dragged his mouth from hers and lifted his head, his breathing uneven and his eyes angry. ‘What do you think you are doing?’

Dizzy and drugged, it took a moment to focus. ‘You kissed me.’’

‘Your hands were on my body.’

Unable to defend herself from the accusation, Alexa lay there in shock, trying to work out what had happened. Kissing Karim had been like stepping into sexual quicksand—one move in the wrong place and she hadn’t been able to free herself. Every subtle movement of his mouth had just drawn her down deeper until she’d drowned, swallowed up by pleasure and sensation.

Why was that?

Had the agonizing loneliness of her situation finally affected her mind? Was she so desperate for human comfort that she was ready to cling to any man who touched her?

‘Please, let me go. I just want my passport.’ Her voice was shaking. How had she allowed herself to become so distracted from her task? The clock was ticking. Every moment that passed made her task more dangerous. ‘Let me leave tonight without you. You will not be blamed.’

Karim studied her face for a moment and then sprang to his feet in a lithe, athletic movement, relieving her of his weight so suddenly that she felt unaccountably bereft.

Ignoring the confusion in her brain and body, Alexa sat up and than gave a gulp of shock she realized that he was completely naked—gloriously, proudly naked, and unashamedly aroused.

She knew she should look away but she couldn’t move. Confronted by her first ever vision of a naked man, her eyes remained fixed on this impromptu display of rampant masculinity, and only when she heard his sharply indrawn breath did she finally manage to drag her eyes upwards. But, instead of respite, she was offered just another angle on impressive manhood—wide, powerful shoulders, curving muscles honed by hard physical exercise and a broad, strong chest hazed by curling dark hairs. He was aggressively, imposingly masculine, and it took all her willpower to look away from such physical perfection. Her cheeks were burning, and she honestly didn’t know what to say or do to move on from here. Her head had emptied itself of all thoughts that weren’t related to sex with this man.

No wonder she hadn’t been able to resist his kiss.

‘The blushing is sweet, but a little over the top given the kiss we just shared.’ Karim’s tone was icy cold as he reached for the robe that was flung carelessly over the chair. Without any obvious sign of haste, he slid his arms into the sleeves and belted it loosely, as relaxed and cool as she was embarrassed. ‘And your display of shyness is a little out of place in a woman who began exploring her sexuality at such a young age—but if you want to play that game then I’m happy to oblige. It’s safe to look, Your Highness.’

Safe?

Part of her knew that this man was anything but safe, and the knowledge unsettled her more than she cared to admit. She’d lived with the threat of danger all her life, but this was entirely different. Normally she was completely in control of her reactions, but with Karim she wasn’t in control at all and the thought terrified her. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. She didn’t need this confusion. Her mind needed to be sharp and focused.

Her future depended on it.

The future of Rovina depended on it.

Her cheeks still flaming with embarrassment, Alexa struggled to find some of her old, rational self. Part of her wanted to melt from the room and never see him again, but another part wanted to …

‘None of that is important,’ she said hoarsely, saying it for her own benefit as much as his. ‘I—’

‘You what?’ He folded his arms and fixed her with his hard, unsympathetic gaze. ‘The Sultan would not approve of the conduct of his prospective bride. He’s an extremely possessive man.’

‘We both know that the Sultan is unlikely to care what happens to me.’

Since when had anyone cared what happened to her? She’d been surviving on her own for so long that it was impossible to imagine a scenario where she mattered to someone.

‘You’re wrong.’ Karim studied her with grim contemplation. ‘If you marry him then you become his possession, and he’s ruthlessly protective of anything and everything that is his. The ability to share nicely is not a virtue to which he aspires.’

She stood up, because sitting down made him all the more intimidating and she couldn’t think straight when she was facing him. ‘You’ve stumbled into a situation that you know nothing about. Believe me, if you’d known the facts, there is no way you would have signed up for this job. Just let me go and perhaps we’ll meet up in Zangrar one day.’ If she survived the journey. She turned and caught the narrowing of his eyes.

‘So, your uncle kept your passport from you. Presumably for your own good. You’re clearly something of a handful to manage, Your Highness. I don’t envy him.’

Alexa straightened her shoulders. ‘Your role is not to pass judgement on a situation of which you know nothing. It’s not your business.’

‘If you’re planning to sneak away then it becomes my business. If I wake up tomorrow and you have gone then I will have to answer to the Sultan. His Excellency isn’t exactly renowned for tolerating the mistakes of others.’

‘Coming with me would be a bigger mistake than you can possibly imagine.’

‘If you believe that then you clearly know nothing about the Sultan.’ He walked towards her, his expression unreadable. ‘If you disappear while under my protection then it is entirely my responsibility.’

‘The Sultan wouldn’t care. He doesn’t want this marriage.’

‘Nor does he want an international incident,’ Karim said dryly. ‘Make no mistake, the Sultan is going ahead with this marriage. The plans for the wedding are already underway. You marry him on the day of your twenty-fourth birthday.’

‘Yes, but I intend to travel alone. If you refuse to let me go, then you will regret it.’

A muscle worked in his lean jaw, and his eyes were faintly amused as he surveyed her with disturbing thoroughness. ‘Never before have I been threatened by a woman who barely reaches my shoulder.’

Alexa felt exhaustion wash over her. As if it wasn’t enough to constantly be trying to outwit William, she now had another fight on her hands. Utterly defeated by the constant obstacles that faced her, she sank back onto the edge of the bed, and then noticed something glinting under the edge of the pillow.

Puzzled, she reached out a hand, lifted the pillow and gave a soft gasp. ‘You sleep with a gun and a knife?’

‘I’m a cautious man.’ He walked over to the bed and gently prised her fingers from the pillow before dragging her back to her feet. ‘And I want to know why you feel the need to leave the palace in the middle of the night.’

She tried to ignore the fact that his hand still held hers. ‘Because it’s imperative that I reach Zangrar safely.’

He watched her for a long moment. ‘You’re that desperate to marry the Sultan?’

‘I prefer determined to desperate.’ Although desperate was probably much closer to the truth.

‘And you believe that your uncle is going to try and stop you?’

‘If I wait until morning—yes.’ Alexa hesitated but decided that she had no choice but to tell him at least part of the truth.

‘William feels very strongly that this wedding shouldn’t go ahead. Strongly enough to use physical means to prevent it.’

Karim was silent for a moment as he digested that piece of information. ‘He must love you very much to have such strong concerns for your well-being. And yet you choose to ignore that love?’

Alexa stared at him for a moment and then gave a short laugh. ‘He doesn’t love me. He hates me. He has always hated me.’

‘You’re young. Sometimes, when someone else’s wishes for you are in contrast to your own, it can be hard to hear what they are saying.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with my hearing. My uncle isn’t interested in what’s best for me.’ She eyed the door, knowing that she was wasting precious minutes that she didn’t have. ‘I have to go.’

‘If you leave, then I leave. Make no mistake about that. I’m your bodyguard.’

‘Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said? I don’t need you.’

‘Why not, if you think you’re at risk?’

‘I don’t trust you.’

Karim frowned. ‘What possible reason could there be for you not to trust me?’

‘I don’t trust anyone. And if you insist on coming on this journey then I certainly can’t guarantee your safety.’

One dark eyebrow lifted in mockery. ‘I rather thought that I was supposed to guarantee your safety.’

She sighed and rubbed her aching head with the tips of her fingers. ‘Karim, I’m not a good person to travel with. It is going to be dangerous.’

‘Don’t you think you’re being a little melodramatic?’

He had no idea. Alexa let her hands drop to her sides and gave a resigned shrug. She’d already wasted too much time on this. She’d warned him. If he chose to ignore the warning, then that was up to him. ‘I’m leaving now, whether you come or not is up to you,’

she said wearily. ‘But, if you wait until the morning, then I’ll be gone, with or without the passport. And, if I wait until morning, I’ll be dead. In case you haven’t heard, I’m very accident-prone.’

She heard his sharp intake of breath as she walked across the room. At the door she paused and turned to look at him. ‘If you’re coming with me then bring the gun and the knife—and I just hope you’re as good as you say you are, because you’re about to need every survival skill you’ve ever learned.’

CHAPTER THREE

KARIM slid into the tiny car, wondering at precisely which point in the past twenty-four hours he’d relinquished grip on his judgement.

He brushed the tips of his fingers over his lower lip, trying to erase the delicious taste of her mouth and the memory of that searing kiss, but the gesture did nothing to alleviate the nagging ache of lust that now gripped his body.

Intensely irritated by his own response, he let his hand fall to his thigh.

She was the most hotly sexual woman he’d ever met, and her behaviour was every bit as shocking as he’d been led to believe.

The fact that she was prepared to kiss another man days before her wedding confirmed everything he already knew about her, and that kiss had obviously shorted his mental circuits because he was behaving in a way that was entirely uncharacteristic. Instead of being fully in control of the situation, he was now on his way to a mystery destination with a princess who gave new meaning to the term drama queen.

Dead. Dead?

What did she mean that if she waited until morning she’d be dead?

Clearly, she thought a little exaggeration on her part would help urge him into action, or perhaps she’d just been aiming for the sympathy vote. It was a pity for her that he had vast experience of a woman’s ability to manipulate a tricky situation to her advantage, especially where money was involved. Obviously the Princess Alexandra was afraid that her uncle might step in and prevent the wedding. And it didn’t need a genius to work out why she would go to any lengths to prevent that happening.

Money had an appalling effect on people. He’d seen it firsthand, and her determination to creep away from the palace in the middle of the night in order to protect her prize, had left him with no obvious alternative but to join her. Until she changed her mind about the marriage, his mission was not complete, and his mission stood no chance of being completed if she travelled to Zangrar alone and unaccompanied.

He needed time with her.

Wincing as his shoulders brushed the door and his head banged the roof, Karim tried to shift himself into a more comfortable position, but it proved impossible. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t opt for a more luxurious mode of transport,’ he muttered, but she didn’t even glance in his direction.

‘I’m not interested in luxury. I’m interested in anonymity.’

Well aware that that both those statements were in direct contrast to everything he knew about the Princess Alexandra’s public displays of extravagance, Karim wondered what she was trying to prove by making him journey in the smallest car available to mankind.

A road-sign flashed past and he frowned. ‘You took the wrong road. The airport is the other way.’

She didn’t respond. Instead her eyes were fixed on the road, and her hands gripped the wheel of the car so tightly that her knuckles whitened under the pressure. ‘We’re not using that airport.’

‘The Sultan’s private jet awaits you at Rovina Airport.’

‘I know. Which makes it the first place they’ll look when they realize that we’ve gone.’ She glanced in her rear-view mirror and then turned left down a road without indicating. Tyres screeched in protest, and Karim’s shoulder thudded hard against the window.

Watching his life flash before his eyes, he inhaled sharply. ‘Stop the car! I will drive.’

‘No way. For a start, you don’t know where we’re going.’

‘True. But, wherever it is, I would like to reach there alive.’ He adjusted his balance as she took sharp right that virtually flung him on top of her.

‘You chose to come, Karim.’ She changed gears like a racing driver. ‘Are you a nervous passenger?’

‘That depends on the driver.’

‘I’m an excellent driver.’

‘And yet you have crawled from the wreckage of two car accidents in the past year.’

‘Precisely. A less skilled driver than me would have been killed.’

‘A more skilled driver than you wouldn’t have crashed in the first place. Why do you keep looking in the mirror? It’s pitch-dark out there. There is nothing to see.’

‘So far. I need to make sure that no one is following us.’

‘Who would be following us?’ Karim felt a flicker of irritation. ‘Some women are incredibly aroused by drama, I know, but you are taking it to new levels. Stop the car.’

‘No. There’s a chance that my uncle may have discovered that we’ve left. If I stop, then I risk losing the advantage we have.’

‘Has it ever occurred to you that your uncle may have your best interests at heart?’

‘Has it ever occurred to you that he hasn’t? Don’t lecture me, Karim. You’re the one who insisted that I needed a bodyguard. I wanted to leave you behind.’ She changed gears smoothly and accelerated fast up a dark road. There were no lights at all, but she seemed to know every bend and curve. ‘You chose to come with me. That means that you go where I go.’

‘And where is that, precisely?’

‘I’m going to the Sultan. By my own route.’

‘I hope that you will not have cause to regret that decision.’ Her determination exasperated him. Why was it that women became so focused when faced with an increase in their fortunes?

‘My father wanted me to marry the Sultan.’

‘Your father had never met the present Sultan.’

‘True. But he knew his father.’

Karim felt something dark and dangerous curl inside him. ‘Perhaps I should inform you that you might find that the present Sultan is not such a soft touch when it comes to a pretty face.’

‘It doesn’t matter. We both know that the Sultan cannot break the contract that exists between us.’

‘I’m sure the Sultan will find your eagerness to wed him most flattering.’

‘There’s no need for sarcasm. We’ve already established that I’m not pretending to be in love with him, and from what I’ve read that should be a pleasant change for the man,’ she muttered, crunching the gears as she slowed fractionally to take a corner. ‘He seems to spend his life fending off over-eager women. It must be very frustrating for him.’

‘You needn’t waste sympathy on the Sultan,’ Karim drawled. ‘He has vast experience with women, and is well able to protect himself.’

‘Well, he won’t need to protect himself from me. I’m honest.’ She trod hard on the accelerator. ‘And I certainly won’t be pretending to be in love with him. We’re going to get along just fine.’

‘I’m sure the Sultan will be overwhelmed by your romantic nature,’ Karim said dryly, wondering whether greed was any less distasteful when it was practised openly.

‘From what I’ve heard, the Sultan doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.’

‘You’re very sure about that. What if marriage to you is preventing him from marrying someone else?’

‘Oh, come on, Karim! You yourself said that the Sultan has avoided marriage all his life. He’s thirty-four years old, and he’s dated every beautiful woman in the western hemisphere.’ She changed gears viciously. ‘If there was someone he wanted to marry, he would have done it by now.’

‘And you have reached this conclusion on what basis?’

‘He’s the Sultan. The absolute ruler. He can marry anyone he pleases.’

‘Evidently not, since it seems that he will be marrying you. I’m afraid life is nowhere near as simple as you describe, even for the Sultan.’

‘We’re here.’ Ignoring his last remark, she turned the wheel sharply and drove the car through a gap in a fence and into an open field. Then she flashed the headlights three times. From across the field came an answering flash, and she nodded and switched off the engine. ‘We need to be quick.’

She was already out of the vehicle, the collar of her black jacket pulled up and a hat pulled low over her eyes. ‘Hurry. I don’t know how much time we have.’

Seriously questioning his decision to go along with her, Karim followed her, and then reached out a hand and hauled her against him. ‘Enough,’ he growled. ‘Enough, Your Highness. No one is following us.’’

‘Maybe not yet, but they will be. We need to get on that plane. Now.’ Her voice was urgent. ‘They’re coming, Karim. They’re already on their way. I can feel it.’

Karim felt her shiver in his arms, and his own body stirred in response as he stared down into her beautiful face. Why was she so desperate to go through with this marriage? Was this really all about money?

And what had happened to his judgement? Was he seriously going to board a strange aircraft with a woman who he didn’t trust, like or even admire?

‘You’re making no sense. Give me one good reason why I should do as you say.’

Her breath was coming in rapid pants, and then she jerked away from him and pointed a gun—his gun—straight at his chest. ‘Because if you don’t then I’m just going to have to shoot you. I will not allow anyone to stop this marriage, and that includes you. We’ve already wasted far too much time. Make your choice, Karim, but make it fast.’

Her hands shaking, Alexa held the gun as she’d seen it held in the movies, hoping that she looked suitably threatening. ‘Well?’

Karim stood still, remarkably calm, given that he was staring down the barrel of his own gun. And then he reached out and gently prised the gun from her shaking fingers with a hand that was entirely steady.

‘It’s dangerous to play with weapons that you know nothing about,’ he said softly, and she made a desperate grab for the gun but he slid it back into the holster under his jacket. ‘Next time you want to threaten someone, choose a weapon you’re familiar with.’ He watched her for a moment, his eyes searching. ‘Given that our prompt departure is obviously a matter of great importance to you, we’d better leave.’

‘Thank you.’ She should have felt relief, but instead she found herself wishing that he’d opted to stay behind. He was the most disturbing man she’d ever met, and she didn’t want him in her life. Especially not at this particular moment when concentration was crucial to her very survival. Alexa took a phone out of her pocket and made a quick call. Immediately a set of landing lights illuminated a runway, and she saw the small plane waiting. ‘They’re ready. Quickly.’

Checking over her shoulder for any glimmer of approaching headlights, Alexa pulled away from him and sprinted towards the plane, not really caring whether Karim followed or not.

She didn’t understand why he was asking so many questions.

He was a bodyguard. His brief should have been to follow orders, not to give them.

Arriving at the plane, she climbed the few steps and then sank down on the nearest seat, her insides churning so badly that she could barely breath. Karim sat down next to her and she felt the brush of his arm against hers.

Even without turning her head she knew he was watching her. She could feel him watching her.

And then he gave an impatient sigh, leaned across and fastened her seat belt in a decisive movement. Wishing he’d selected a seat across the aisle, Alexa’s mouth dried.

‘Thank you.’

She didn’t look at him. She didn’t dare.

She had to stay focused, and looking at Karim just blurred her mind.

A man walked out of the cockpit and nodded to her. ‘You are ready, Your Highness?’

‘Yes. Just go, David. Quickly.’ Knowing the risk he was taking, she looked at him doubtfully. ‘You’re sure you want to do this?’

‘How can you doubt it?’ The man’s expression was fierce. ‘We owe it to your father’s memory. We owe it to Rovina.’

Karim lounged in the leather seat, studying the woman next to him through half-shuttered eyes.

The moment the plane had taken off, she’d fallen deeply asleep, and now she lay without moving, her thick, dark lashes forming a crescent against her ashen cheeks.

He still hadn’t quite recovered from the shock of seeing her standing there, pointing his gun at him. But the incident had taught him two important things.

Firstly, that the Princess Alexandra was determined to marry the Sultan, and, secondly that she was not such a tough, independent soul as she would have liked him to believe. The slender hands holding his gun had been shaking so badly that, had she actually succeeded in firing the thing, the first shot would have hit his head and the second his toes. Clearly she didn’t have a clue how to use a gun.

Still, he’d underestimated her, and he wouldn’t be doing that again in a hurry.

Her extreme behaviour had surprised even him.

But it shouldn’t have done, should it? He gave a cynical laugh. His wealth of experience with her sex had long since taught him that nothing focused a woman’s mind more than a serious threat to her spending power, and the princess appeared to be facing that threat in the form of her uncle.

What would she say, he wondered, if she knew that he, too, was determined to prevent the wedding? The only difference between him and her uncle was that he intended to succeed.

Transferring his gaze to the front of the plane, he briefly wondered about the identity of the pilot. He’d been surprised by the loyalty and devotion displayed by the young man. Was he one of her many lovers?

Probably, if her reputation was to be believed.

Not that there had been any communication between them since that first brief greeting.

On the contrary, she’d been sleeping since the plane had taken off.

Deciding that it was time to take back control, Karim took advantage of her unconscious state to make some necessary calls. Blessing modern technology, he removed his hand-held computer from his pocket and sent two urgent e-mails that were both immediately answered. He was just pocketing the device when Alexa’s head flopped sideways onto his shoulder.

Karim froze in shock as she snuggled into him. The top of her head brushed his neck as she automatically searched for the most comfortable position, and his senses were engulfed by the delicious scent of her amazing red-gold hair.

She smelt like an English garden in the middle of summer.

Seriously discomforted by the unexpected familiarity, he lifted a hand, intending to push her back into her own seat, but somehow his fingers became entwined in a lock of her hair. The curl looped itself around his fingers like a silken coil, and he studied the vibrancy of the colour with fascination.

Whatever else had been said about her, it was certainly true that the Princess Alexandra was astonishingly beautiful. She was a woman that any healthy, red-blooded man would find impossible to ignore. And as for how she tasted …

Irritated by the dangerous direction of his thoughts, Karim allowed her hair to slide through his fingers, reminding himself that this journey was all about helping her to review her decision to marry the Sultan. To stray from that path would complicate things in the extreme.

The weight and warmth of her body remained pressed against his shoulder, and, although sleeping snuggled against him was an intimacy he’d never before allowed a woman, Karim found himself strangely reluctant to wake her. He had no desire to travel with a tired, irritable woman, he reasoned, and anyway sleep not induced by the exhaustion of sex held no significance whatsoever.

He forced himself to relax in his seat, grimly determined to ignore the intrusive and disturbing reaction of his body. Occasionally he glanced at her, wondering when she was going to wake up.

She slept as though she was never going to regain consciousness, and at one point he found himself leaning closer, just to check that she was actually breathing.

It was only when the plane finally landed in Zangrar that she stirred, perhaps sensing the sudden stillness of the plane. Her head was still resting on his shoulder and her gaze met his, her face dangerously close.

Karim felt something stir inside him and curved his hand around her cheek, tempted to help himself to another taste of her luscious mouth before continuing with the job in hand. His body throbbed and ached with the memory of that kiss, and he realized with no small degree of irritation that he had been in an almost permanent state of arousal since he had met the princess only a day earlier. Only the most ruthless self-discipline prevented him from sacrificing his principles in favour of immediate sexual gratification. His hand dropped and he drew back, and she did the same, apparently dismayed to find herself so intimately entwined with him.

‘I slept—I’m sorry.’ She sounded astonished. ‘What time is it?’

‘We have just landed in Zangrar.’

‘Landed?’ Her expression confused, she looked out of the window. ‘But that isn’t possible.’

‘Why isn’t it possible?’

‘Because Zangrar is a ten-hour flight.’

‘And you have slept for ten hours.’ And for most of those ten hours she’d been wrapped around him. Trying to calm the vicious throb in his body by moving his thoughts as far from seduction as possible, Karim flexed his shoulders. ‘It was the middle of the night when we left. It is hardly surprising that you were tired.’

She looked shocked. ‘I’ve slept for ten hours?’

‘Without waking.’

‘But I’ve never—’ Without bothering to finish her sentence, she chewed her lip and glanced out of the window. ‘So, if this is Zangrar, then how far is it to the Citadel?’

Karim gave a cynical smile. For single-minded focus, you couldn’t fault her. She’d barely rubbed the sleep from her eyes, but already she could see the flash of gold across the desert. He only wished that half the people he worked with were even a fraction as driven. ‘I’m sure the Sultan will be most flattered by your eagerness to begin married life.’

It was a moment before she replied, and he wondered whether she’d even heard his comment. Then she looked at him, her face blank of expression. ‘I need somewhere to change. I can’t wear this.’

‘This’ was the pair of dark trousers and black jumper that she’d worn to leave the palace, presumably chosen to disguise her identity. Clearly she wanted to change into something more glamorous before she met the Sultan.

‘The Sultan is going to be far more interested in the person than the clothes. In Zangrar we have a tradition,’ he said softly. ‘When a woman marries, she dresses in a very simple gown, and that simplicity is of great significance. It means that she is offering herself to her man, all that she is, unadorned and exposed. It is symbolic of the fact that truth can be concealed, and that the marriage of a man and a woman should be about openness and truth.’

‘Truth?’ Her eyes fixed on his face. ‘You’re suggesting that I’m not being honest?’

‘I’m saying that when a woman gives herself to a man there should be nothing concealed.’

‘And what about when a man gives himself to a woman? How much concealing is allowed then? Or is this honesty onesided?’ Disillusionment rang in her voice, and the expression in her eyes was bleak. ‘You still haven’t answered my question. How far is the Citadel from here?’

‘It’s a four-day drive through the mountains and the desert.’ Omitting to tell her that a helicopter could make the journey in a matter of hours, Karim watched with satisfaction as something close to horror flickered across her beautiful face. ‘Zangrar, as a country, is still comparatively underdeveloped. The terrain is a mixture of sand and rock. When it came to building an international airport, the options were somewhat limited. The fortress city is several days’ drive away from here, across harsh desert.’

‘No!’ Clearly horrified by his announcement, she shook her head vigorously and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I studied a map. It looked like a short drive.’

‘Distances in the desert are deceptive.’

‘I can’t do a four-day journey—the desert isn’t safe.’

No, it certainly wasn’t.

More than content with her reaction, Karim relaxed in his seat. As he’d intended, the princess was clearly afraid of the prospect of a journey through the desert. All he needed to do now was ensure that she spent long enough in those surroundings to convince her that life in Zangrar was not going to be to her taste. Once she was exposed to those elements of desert life guaranteed to make a delicately brought-up princess run hard and fast in the direction of the nearest shopping mall, his mission would be virtually complete.

Her eyes were still fixed on his face. ‘We have to drive? There is no other way?’

‘Four-wheel drive is best.’ Pausing, he decided that a little elaboration could only help his cause. ‘Camels are equally effective, but obviously not so speedy, and I know that you are desperate to reach the Sultan as fast as possible.’

Apparently missing the irony in his tone, she sank back onto the seat, her breathing rapid as she struggled to control her anxiety.

Karim gave a cynical smile. It wasn’t hard to guess the direction of her thoughts. For a girl used to dressing in silk and partying until dawn, a prolonged trip through the desert held little in the way of attractions.

And she was right to be afraid.

By the time she arrived at the Citadel she would, with a little outside assistance, have decided that marriage to the Sultan was not for her. ‘Why don’t you change your clothes?’ She would doubtless select something feminine and unsuitable, and the more unsuitable the dress the more uncomfortable the journey.

And, the more uncomfortable the journey, the faster she would decide to rethink her matrimonial intentions.

Convinced that the success of his mission was already assured, Karim gave a faint smile. ‘Welcome to Zangrar, Your Highness,’ he drawled softly. ‘Welcome to the desert.’