never known scarves to bite.’
‘I mean you. Are you safe?’ she scolded. ‘Coming close to you, I mean.’
‘It’s never stopped you before.’
Her body thrilled with memories as he rearranged her headdress, and then led her towards the horses. And the desert.
‘THERE,’ KHALID SAID, standing back to examine his handiwork. ‘Apart from your striking blue eyes, you look like a real Khalifan.’
She felt unrecognisable: exotic, unusual, and so unlike her usual self.
‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘What do you think?’
‘It feels wonderful,’ she admitted. ‘Cool and comfortable.’
‘I sense a but?’ he queried.
Only that same niggle of doubt that had struck her inside the tent. What was she doing here, living a dream that didn’t belong to her? And never could?
Miss Francine’s voice came into her head. If things appear too good to be true, they generally are.
She had to shake that thought away, and enjoy each new experience to the full otherwise her time here was wasted. There were never any guarantees in life, so why not make the most of this? She was under the protection of the hawk of the desert. What could possibly go wrong? Millie thought as Khalid’s attendants brought up the horses. The air was warm and scented with the tang of the ocean, and adventure in the desert beckoned.
‘I’m ready,’ she confirmed.
Khalid’s snorting, frothing, fearsome-looking animal was definitely not her mount of choice. ‘You don’t seriously expect me to ride on that?’ she said as he beckoned to her to come closer, so he could lift her onto the saddle in front of him. ‘That isn’t a horse, it’s a muscle machine with evil intentions.’
‘Play nice, Burkan,’ he said as the horse flattened its ears.
‘What about me?’ Millie pointed out. ‘I’m prepared for nice, but preferably when it arrives on four wheels.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Khalid assured her as he held out his hand.
Black as night, and as hard-muscled as his master, his stallion was grandly caparisoned in red and gold as befitted the favourite mount of a mighty ruler. And had the temperament of a snake someone had poked with a stick, Millie concluded. ‘He’s a monster. No way. Don’t you have a mule, or a donkey?’
‘Burkan means volcano in your language,’ the monster’s master explained fondly as he caressed his mount’s suddenly pricked-up ears.
‘I see he responds to flattery like most males,’ Millie commented dryly.
Khalid laughed, the sound muffled behind the howli, making it sound like a deep rumble of thunder, while his big black stallion raked the ground and gave her the dead eye. ‘He’s a pussycat,’ he soothed.
‘Of the big cat variety, with a thorn in its paw,’ Millie agreed.
‘I’m right out of donkeys,’ Khalid told her, ‘so are you coming, or not?’
She gazed around at the desert. This might be his home, but it looked like hostile territory to Millie. Resistant though she was to the idea of riding half a ton of power-packed, mean-eyed horse, she took hold of Khalid’s hand. No stallion with a personality disorder was going to frighten Millie Dillinger.
The next moment they were off. There was no slow build up to a flat-out gallop, so she could get used to the stallion’s gait. Burkan only knew one speed, and that was rocket-propelled. She yelped with fear as he galloped on, and for a few moments she was sure she’d fall off, but as Khalid’s arms tightened around her, her confidence grew.
‘Good?’ he demanded as Burkan’s hooves ate up the desert at a pace she could hardly believe.
‘I’m alive,’ she yelled back. And that was enough. But soon she realised it was fabulous. There could be nothing better than this wild ride through the desert in the arms of a desert king.
Dunes rose on either side of them, and Millie had no idea how anyone could navigate their way around when everything looked so similar. Khalid had no difficulty. He spearheaded the troop of men. Seeing the land he loved like this told her more about a complex man than hours of conversation ever could. Khalid might be hugely civilised on the outside, but in his heart, he was a fierce desert warrior.
* * *
Seeing his land through Millie’s eyes was a wonderful experience, like seeing the desert for the first time. Slowing Burkan, he pointed out the signs he looked for in a landscape, that at first sight appeared confusingly similar, and had the added complication of changing day by day as wind shifted both the shape and position of the dunes. He reined in at the top of one of these sand mountains to give Millie a chance to appreciate the extent of the sea of gold surrounding them. Dismounting, he lifted her down. Kneeling, he showed her the animal tracks in the seemingly sterile environment. He could tell she was fascinated as she knelt down beside him, and they were soon fully engrossed in discussing his plans to turn part of the desert into a fruitful garden, and how he intended to expand his nature reserves in order to protect the most endangered species. When he looked at her to weigh her reaction, and saw how intently she was listening, he felt a swell of emotion akin to love. This was dangerous, he thought as he sprang to his feet.
‘Khalifa is so beautiful,’ she said, standing by his side. ‘You’re a very lucky man.’
‘Yes, I am,’ he agreed, striding away to remount Burkan before he said something to make things worse. His growing feelings for Millie were not only inappropriate, but unfair to her. His future was fixed. If not this latest contender who had arrived unannounced at the palace, he must find an appropriate bride soon. It was his duty to settle down and have children, to forge the stable dynasty his people longed for. He could offer Millie nothing in the long-term. He had to content them both with this short desert adventure.
‘Come,’ he said, reaching down from the saddle. ‘We have some miles to cover before we reach the oasis.’
‘The oasis?’ she exclaimed. ‘How romantic.’ She stared up with eyes full of wonder, like a child at Christmas, making his decision to follow duty even harder.
‘It’s where we’ll sleep,’ he said crisply, trying not to think about the moment of parting, which must come soon, when they would both return to stark reality.
* * *
She felt better this time, on the horse, more relaxed, and at one with Khalid. She was excited as they cantered on through the desert towards the promise of a cooling oasis. Having seen this other side of her desert lord, a side that was tender and caring, and deeply committed to the welfare of his country, she loved him more than ever. Yes. Love. There was no other way to describe her growing feelings for Khalid. She didn’t want to leave him, or his country, and she was hungry to know more, about him, about Khalifa. Everything that mattered to him mattered to her.
‘Isn’t
