tone. ‘You have been fairness personified. Not only are you paying me what you would a man, once you recovered from the shock of my gender, you did not try to devalue my skills on the grounds of it. You have given me an opportunity that few other men would have granted me. I am truly very grateful for it, and I should not be burdening you with my personal travails. It is most unprofessional.’
‘If you tell me one more time that you are here to tend to my horses...’
He was rewarded with a faint smile. ‘Do I say that often?’
‘I suspect you recite it in your sleep.’
Her smile broadened. ‘I suspect I’m trying to ensure I know my place. When I came here I did not expect to be living in a royal harem, to be conversing with a prince. I assumed I would be given quarters in the stables.’
‘Now that would be guaranteed to make Jasim resign his post forthwith. My Master of the Horse has already made his views on the presence of women in his stables crystal clear.’
‘You have had a woman working in your stables before me?’
‘No.’ Interfering, was the word Jasim had used. And undermining. Then ultimately, and most damning of all, he had described it as contaminating. ‘He was alluding to my wife,’ Rafiq admitted unwillingly, realising that he had to say something. ‘She was a Bedouin princess. She had a great affinity with horses, which Jasim did not appreciate.’
‘A nomad?’ Stephanie said in surprise. ‘I suppose in some ways, my life has been akin to that of the Bedouin, which you experienced when you were a child. Though we never permitted our horses to enter the tent.’
It was an uncomfortable analogy. Rafiq did not want to think of Stephanie as a nomad. He did not wish to make the link between the ghost that haunted him and the woman sitting opposite, who would help him close the door on the past for ever.
‘Despite their itinerant lifestyle, some of the Bedouin tribes can trace their regal heritage back as far as I can,’ he said, happily reminding himself that Stephanie, without a single drop of royal blood in her veins, was really nothing like Elmira at all.
‘Well, I have no heritage to speak of, regal or otherwise,’ she agreed blithely. ‘It seems to me that if your Master of the Horse would not even tolerate a royal princess, he is likely to make the life of a mere army farrier’s daughter unbearable, even if we do share an itinerant lifestyle and an affinity with horses.’
‘You are nothing like Elmira,’ Rafiq exclaimed, infuriated by what seemed to him her persistent desire to force him to compare the two.
She mistook his tone. ‘I am sorry, of course I’m not. The subject is painful to you. I beg your pardon.’
‘The past is not a place I care to visit.’
‘We have that much in common then.’
Her words were tinged with sadness. This independence she was so set on was costing her very dear. Not a choice, but a painful necessity. Whatever the reason, he was not inclined to pain her by further questions, but he had to admire her spirit. ‘When the Sabr trophy is restored to Bharym, my kingdom will be free to embrace its future. You will be free to embrace yours. And I, too, will be free to embrace mine.’
Her dazzling smile made him forget everything save her nearness and the strength of his desire for her. ‘I confess I find myself thinking of a different kind of embrace at this moment,’ Rafiq said.
The pink tip of her tongue flicked over her lower lip. ‘We said we would forget what happened between us,’ Stephanie said, making it clear that she was equally aware of him.
‘Have you forgotten?’ he asked.
‘No.’ Another flick of her tongue that made his blood stir. ‘I wish I could,’ she said.
If only she had forgotten. If only she did not desire him, or he her. Was there really so much harm in a kiss? He pulled her into his arms, and her lips touched his, and his resistance crumbled.
* * *
It was an illusion, Stephanie tried to tell herself, as she pressed her lips to Rafiq’s. It would not last, this sweet, hot desire which had her in its heady grip. This tingling she felt as he kissed her did not herald something more profound, only a prelude to ultimate disappointment. Yet when he feathered those delightful kisses over her bottom lip, she shivered. Slowly, surely, his kisses coaxed her into wanting more, into believing that more would be even more satisfying. It was different this time. Was it? She didn’t want to compare. It didn’t compare. Did it?
Rafiq stroked her hair, fluttered kisses over her eyes, nibbled on the lobe of her ear, kissed the sensitive skin behind it, making her shudder with delight. Then he began his assault on her mouth again and she forgot to think, surrendering to the slow dragging, drugging pleasure of his kisses, his tongue, his hands on her hair, caressing her back, her hair, her back again, showing no inclination to explore further. Only stroking her in the least provocative and intimate of places served to be provoking all the same.
She didn’t want it to end. Could it be that Stephanie was, after all, the kind of woman she had been branded? The thought shocked her into dragging her mouth from his. ‘No.’
Rafiq set her free immediately.
‘I can’t. I mean I must not,’ she added hurriedly. ‘You are my employer, and...’
‘And as such, I have already assured you that I would not take advantage of the situation. I may have your future in my hands Stephanie, but does it not occur to you that you have my future in yours?’
It had not. Ashamed and embarrassed, she gazed at him mutely.
‘What do you imagine I would do if you rejected my advances?’ he asked, his tone softening. ‘Forgetting for the moment that all I have done is kiss you, nothing more. Do you think I would risk everything, my kingdom’s hopes and aspirations, my family’s reputation, my own solemn pledge, by summarily dismissing you?’
‘I thought that you would think—that you would say—you respect me, Rafiq. I don’t want to endanger that.’
‘Why would my desire for you as a woman endanger my respect for you as a veterinarian?’
‘You don’t understand.’’
‘Then enlighten me.’
She could feel the flush of mortification burning its way across her chest, up her throat to sear her cheeks. Unable to trust herself to speak, she shook her head, keeping her eyes lowered, her fingers clasped tightly together. Her toes were curled up tight inside her slippers. Her throat felt clogged. She knew she owed him some sort of explanation, but the very thought of telling him the shameful truth was too much to bear. ‘I’m sorry,’ Stephanie said, ignoring the hot tears which were trailing down her even hotter cheeks. ‘I can’t.’
‘I respect you as my Royal Horse Surgeon. I kissed you because despite the fact you are my Royal Horse Surgeon, I don’t seem to be able to resist you, and because I thought that you too—but I should not have.’ Rafiq sighed, tugging at the high collar of his formal tunic. ‘When you kiss me I forget that you cannot be experienced.’
‘I’m not experienced, but I’m not an innocent either, and I
