was going to say to her when she awoke.
That kiss had been completely unplanned. Incredibly sweet. And it had left Khalil in an extremely uncomfortable state of arousal for the rest of the night.
He hadn’t been able to sleep with Elena on his lap, her hair brushing his cheek, her soft body relaxed and pliant against his. His whole body, his whole self, had been in a state of unbearable awareness, exquisite agony.
Sleep had been the farthest thing from his mind.
But now, in the cold light of day, reality returned with an almighty thud. He could not act on his attraction to Elena. He could not nurture any softer feelings for her. He had a goal, a plan, and neither included the Queen of Thallia beyond keeping her captive and then letting her go.
Except, somehow he had forgotten that when he’d held her in his lap. When he’d shared dinner with her in his tent, and invited her to accompany him to visit the desert tribes. When he’d encouraged her to share about her life, and had told her a little bit about his. When he’d let her into his mind and even his heart. When he’d kissed her.
He’d told her things had changed, and he felt the change in himself. He was losing sight of his priorities and chasing rainbows instead. How could he be such a fool? How could he let his focus slip, even for a second?
It was time to get back on track, Khalil knew. To forget the fanciful feelings he’d been harbouring for Elena. What an idiot he was, to feel something soft even for a moment! To trust her. Care for her. It would only end badly...in so many ways. He knew that from hard experience. He wasn’t about to repeat the mistake of trusting someone, loving someone.
Not that he loved her, Khalil told himself quickly. He barely knew her. Things had become intense between them because they were in an intense situation, that was all.
He let out a long, low breath and headed for the horses. The animals had weathered last night’s storm well enough and were happy for Khalil to feed and water them. He’d just finished and was turning back to check on Elena when he saw her standing between the towering black rocks, looking tired and pale, yet also tall and straight...and so very beautiful.
His gut tightened. His groin ached. And as he stood and stared at her he was reminded of her nightmare, of the vulnerability she’d shown and the secrets she’d shared. He thought of her witnessing the death of her parents, the utter horror of the terrorist attack, and a howl of need to protect her rose up inside him. In that moment last night he’d almost told her his own terrible memories. Laid bare his own secrets.
Almost.
Now he pushed the memories away and gave her a measured smile. ‘Good morning. Are you rested?’
‘A bit.’ She took a step closer to him and he saw uncertainty in her eyes. Questions loomed there that he didn’t want her to ask. Had no intention of answering, not even in the seething silence of his own mind.
‘We can eat and then we should ride. The settlement we’ve been aiming for is only another hour or so from here, and I hope my men will be waiting for us there. We can explain to the tribe how we became separated in the storm.’
She nodded slowly, her gaze sweeping over him like a sorrowful searchlight. Khalil tried not to flinch under it; that guilt was coming back, along with a powerful desire to pull her into his arms and bury his face in her hair, to comfort her—and himself.
What a joke. He was the last person qualified to give or receive comfort. The last person to think of caring or being cared for. He half-regretted taking her on this godforsaken trip; he wished he’d left her to stew in her tent. But only half, because even now, when he knew better and had told himself so, he was still glad to see her. Was glad she was here with him.
‘Come,’ he said, and beckoned her back towards their rocky shelter. They ate the remaining flat bread and dried meat in silence, and then Khalil saddled the horses while Elena watched.
A moment later they were riding across the desert, the sky hard and blue above them, the air dry, and becoming hotter by the minute.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye, admired her long, straight back, the proud tilt of her head. She would never be bowed, he thought with a surge of almost possessive admiration. She would never allow herself the possibility of defeat. Looking at her now reminded him of how it had felt to hold her: the soft press of her breasts against his chest; the way her hair had brushed his cheek; the smell of her, like rosewater and sunshine.
His horse veered suddenly to avoid a rock, startling Khalil, and he swore under his breath. Already he was losing his concentration again, forgetting his focus. All because of Elena.
Not that he could blame her for his own lack of control. No, he blamed himself, and this sudden need that opened up inside him like a great, yawning chasm of emptiness longing to be filled. He wasn’t used to feeling such a thing; for thirty years he’d basically been on his own. The only person he’d let close in all that time was Dimah, and that relationship had had its own problems and pitfalls.
No, he wasn’t used to this at all. And he didn’t like it. At all.
Liar.
Two hours after starting off, they finally rode into a small Bedouin settlement on the edge of an oasis. There had been no sight of his men, and uneasily Khalil wondered how it would look to the Sheikh for him to ride in alone with Elena. He pushed the thought from his mind. There was nothing he could do about it now.
He’d been here once before on one of his tours of duty through the desert, getting to know the people he was meant to rule, rallying support. Much to his amazement, they had welcomed him.
Such a response still surprised him after all these years: that anyone could accept him. Want him.
Yet he still didn’t trust it, because he knew all too well how the people you loved, the people you thought loved you back, could turn on you. Utterly.
Several men came up as he swung off the horse, offering their greetings and taking the horses away before leading Khalil to the Sheikh’s tent. He glanced back at Elena who was looking pale but composed as several women hustled her off to another tent.
Deciding she could handle herself for the moment, Khalil went to greet the tribe’s Sheikh and explain why he was here. It would be better, he knew, to leave Elena alone for a while.
For ever.
* * *
Several clucking women surrounded Elena and she was carried along with them to a tent, bemused by their interest, and more than a little hurt by the stony look she’d seen on Khalil’s face as he’d turned away.
So he regretted their kiss last night. Clearly. And she should regret it too; of course she should. Kissing Khalil was a very bad idea. Caring about him was even worse.
The trouble was, she couldn’t regret it. She ached with longing for another kiss—and more. For him.
She’d come to this desert tribe because she’d wanted to, because she wanted to see the people who cared about Khalil.
As she cared about him.
More, it seemed, than he wanted her to.
Once in the tent, the women fluttered around her like colourful, chattering
