need my help!”
“No,” he said harshly. His eyes fell upon Kareef. “My king, I ask you to take Jasmine under your protection.”
“No! Absolutely not!” she cried, too loudly. Guests turned to look.
“Jasmine,” Umar cautioned in a low, hard voice, “do not create a scene.”
She swallowed. “I won’t,” she choked out softly. Her dark eyes glimmered, pleading with him as they turned away from the crowd. “Just don’t leave me with the king.”
“Why?” her fiancé demanded.
She licked her lips, glancing at Kareef beneath trembling lashes. “Though he is king…he is also still a man.”
“Don’t be foolish, Jasmine. He’s the king!” Umar said. “His word is unbreakable. His honor is respected across the world. He—”
“No, she is right,” Kareef interrupted. He looked down at Jasmine with glittering eyes. “Though I am king,” he said in a low, dangerous voice, “I am also still a man.”
Her long, black eyelashes swept across her pale cheeks as she visibly trembled beneath his gaze.
“And I would trust you with my life,” Umar said stoutly. “Please. You must take her, sire.”
Kareef slowly turned to his old friend. Bring Jasmine back to the royal palace? Beneath the same roof? The gleaming palace already felt like a prison with its thick walls, when Kareef hungered for the wide freedom of the desert. He couldn’t imagine being trapped in that gilded cage with the additional torture of Jasmine’s company—under his protection as he waited for her to marry another man!
“No,” he said coldly. “She cannot stay at the palace. It’s impossible.”
But even as Jasmine exhaled in relief, Umar pressed his lips together. “She cannot stay unchaperoned here until we are married. It would be improper. I have my children to consider.”
“Send her home to her family.”
“It will be far more useful if she stays at the palace, my king.”
Ah, so this was about status. Kareef’s lip twisted with scorn.
“For Jasmine’s sake,” the other man added in a low voice. “Your attention will go far to negate her old scandal. People will forget the whispers beneath the weight of your honor.”
Staring at him, Kareef frowned in sudden indecision.
Umar lowered his head. “My king, if I have ever done anything worthy of your esteem, I beg you this one favor. Place my bride formally under your protection until the day of the Qais Cup, when I will return to marry her.”
If he’d ever done anything worthy of Kareef’s esteem?
He’d helped Kareef bring prosperity to the desert. Made him the godfather of two of his four young sons. And most of all—he’d found Kareef in the desert, half-mad and dying of thirst thirteen years ago. He’d brought him home, brought him back to health. He’d saved Kareef’s life.
“Perhaps…” Kareef said grudgingly, and Umar pounced.
“Your mother is at the palace, is she not, sire? She will make a fine chaperone, if you are concerned about propriety.”
“No,” Jasmine whimpered softly. “I won’t do it.”
Umar ignored her. He kept staring at Kareef with hope—almost desperation.
If the bride had been any other woman, Kareef would have immediately agreed. But not this woman. He cursed beneath his breath. Damn it, didn’t the man see the risk?
No, of course he did not. Umar had no idea Kareef was the one who’d taken her virginity and caused her accident in the desert thirteen years ago. No one knew Kareef was the man who’d been her lover, her partner in the scandal. Jasmine had made sure of that.
She still hated him. He saw it in her eyes. But he had no choice.
Slowly, Kareef rose to his feet. His voice was loud, ringing with authority beneath the white pavilion.
“As of this moment, and until the day of her marriage, Jasmine Kouri is under my protection.”
Another buzz rose across the crowd. They stared at Jasmine with awe. Even her old father cracked an amazed smile.
If only he knew the truth, Kareef thought grimly.
Nodding in relief, Umar turned to go.
“Wait,” Jasmine cried, grabbing her fiancé’s slender wrist. “I still don’t know what’s happened! Are your children sick? Is it the baby?”
“The children are well. I cannot say more.” The older man’s eyes were narrow and tight. “I will call you if I can. Otherwise—I will see you at the race. On our wedding day.”
And he was gone. Kareef and Jasmine sat alone on the dais, with two hundred pairs of eyes upon them.
Keeping his face impassive, Kareef threw down the linen napkin across his empty plate and glanced at Jasmine’s untouched dinner and stricken, forlorn face. “Are you finished?”
“Yes,” she whispered miserably, as if she were trying not to cry.
He held out his hand. “Then let us go.”
She focused her eyes on him. “Forget it. I’ve been under my own protection for years. I do not need or want yours.”
He continued to hold out his hand. “And yet you have it.”
“I will go stay at my family’s house.”
“Your betrothed wishes otherwise.”
“He is not the boss of me.”
“Is he not?”
She tossed her head. “I will stay at a hotel.”
She was trying her best to be insolent, making it clear she did not respect him. He should have been insulted, but as he watched the tip of her pink tongue dart out to lick her lips, he couldn’t look away from the lush, sensual mouth he’d kissed long ago. It seemed like only yesterday. His lips tingled, remembering hers.
With a deep breath, he forced himself to look up. “You will find no available hotel room, anywhere on this island. All the world has come for my coronation.” He tightened his jaw. “But that is not the point.”
“And that is?”
“I gave my word to Hajjar,” he ground out. “And I keep my promises.”
“Do you?” Her eyes glinted at him sardonically. “A new skill?”
Anger flashed through him. But he held it back, dousing it with ice. He deserved the jibe. He would accept it from Jasmine as he would from no other person alive.
