between Qurhah and Dhi’ban—which could finally banish all the years of unrest. After all, a diplomatic solution is surely more modern and appropriate than an old-fashioned dynastic marriage.’
Murat gave a soft laugh. ‘Oh, how I miss your skills of diplomacy, Suleiman. As well as your unerring ability to pick out the most beautiful women on our foreign tours.’ He gave a reminiscent sigh. ‘Some pretty unforgettable women, as I recall.’
But Suleiman’s head was too full of concern to be distracted by memories of the sexual shenanigans of the past. ‘Is this a feasible plan, do you think, Sire?’
Murat shrugged. ‘It’s feasible. It’s going to take a lot of backroom work and manoeuvring. But it’s doable, yes.’
The two men stared at one another and Suleiman clenched his teeth. ‘Now give me my punishment,’ he ground out.
There was a brief silence. ‘Oh, that’s easy. My punishment is for you to take her,’ said Murat silkily. ‘Take her away with you and do what you will with her. Because I know you—and I know how your mind operates. Countless times I have watched as you grow bored with the inevitable clinginess of the female of the species. She will drive you mad within the month, Suleiman—that much I can guarantee.’
Murat’s words were still ringing in Suleiman’s ears as he waited in the sunlit palace courtyard for Sara to emerge from her ablutions. And when she did, with her blonde hair still damp and tightly plaited, he could not prevent the instinctive kick of lust which was quickly followed by the equally potent feeling of regret.
Her face was pale and her eyes dark with anxiety as she looked up at him. ‘What did he say?’
‘He accepts the situation. The wedding is off.’
‘Just like that?’
Suleiman’s mouth hardened. What would she say if he told her the truth? That Murat had spoken of her as if she’d been a poisoned chalice he was passing to his former aide. That his punishment was to have her, not to lose her.
He suspected she would never speak to him again. And he wasn’t prepared for that to happen.
Not yet.
‘He has agreed to make way for a diplomatic solution instead.’
‘He has?’ Her eyes were filled with confusion as if she found something about his reaction difficult to understand. ‘But that’s good, isn’t it?’
‘It is an acceptable compromise, considering the circumstances,’ said Suleiman, holding up a jangling set of keys which sparked silver in the bright sunlight. ‘Now let’s go. We’re leaving the horses here and taking one of the Sultan’s cars.’
Sara tried to keep up with his long-legged stride as she followed him into the courtyard, but it wasn’t until they were sitting in the blessed cool of the air-conditioned car that she could pluck up enough courage to ask him.
‘Where are we going?’
He didn’t answer straight away. In fact, he didn’t answer for a good while. Not until they had left the palace far behind them and all that surrounded them was sand and emptiness. Pulling over onto the side of the wide and deserted road, he unfastened his seat belt before leaning over and undoing hers.
‘What...are you doing?’ she asked.
‘I want to kiss you.’
‘Suleiman—’
His mouth was hard and hungry and she could feel his anger coming off him in waves. He slid towards her on the front seat of the luxury car, one hand capturing her breast, while the other began to ruck up the slithery silk of her dress. He stopped kissing her long enough to slide his hand up her bare thigh and stare down at her face.
‘Suleiman,’ she said again—as if saying his name would make some kind of sense of the situation. As if it would remind her that this was dangerous—in so many ways.
‘All I can think of is you,’ he said. ‘All I want is to touch you again. You’re driving me crazy.’
She swallowed as he edged his fingertip inside her panties. ‘This isn’t the answer.’
‘Isn’t it?’
He had reached her core now, touching her exquisitely aroused flesh so that the scent of her sex overrode the subtle perfume of the rose petals in which she’d bathed.
‘No. It’s...oh, Suleiman. That’s not fair.’
‘Who said anything about fairness?’
His finger brushed against the sensitive nub. ‘Oh,’ she breathed. And again. ‘Oh.’
‘Still think this isn’t the answer?’
She shook her head and Suleiman felt an undeniable burst of triumph as she fell back against the leather seat and spread her legs for him. But his mouth was grim as he rubbed his finger against her sex and all kinds of dark emotions stirred within him.
He distracted himself by watching her writhe with pleasure. He watched the flush of colour which spread over her skin like wildfire and felt the change in her body as her back began to arch. Her little cries became louder. Her legs stiffened as they stretched out in front of her and he saw a flash of something—was it anger or regret?—before her eyelids fluttered to a close and she cried out his name, even though he got the idea she was trying very hard not to.
Afterwards she smoothed down her tunic with trembling fingers and turned to him and there was a look on her face he’d never seen before. She looked satiated yes, but determined too—her eyes flashing violet fire as she lifted up his robes.
‘Now what are you doing?’ he questioned.
‘You ask too many questions.’
She freed an erection which was so hard that it hurt—and sucked him until he came in her mouth almost immediately. And he had never felt so powerless in his life. Nor so turned on. Afterwards, he opened his eyes to look at her but she was staring straight ahead, her shoulders stiff with tension and her jaw set.
‘Sara?’ he questioned.
She turned her head and he was shocked by the pallor of her face, which made her eyes look like two glittering violet jewels. ‘What?’
He picked up one of her hands, which was lying limply in her lap, and raised it to his lips and kissed it. ‘You didn’t enjoy that?’
She shrugged. ‘On one level, yes, of course I did—as, I imagine, did you. But that wasn’t about sex, was it, Suleiman? That seemed to be more about anger than anything else. I think I can understand why you’re feeling it, but I don’t particularly like it.’
‘You were angry too,’ he said softly.
She turned her head to look at the endless stretch of sand outside the window. ‘I was feeling things other than anger,’ she said.
‘What things?’
‘Oh, you know. Stupid things. Regret. Sadness. The realisation that nothing ever
