fabric walls billowed and the wind wailed mournfully around them.
He pulled her down onto the bed, tossing aside some of the cushions in exasperation. ‘We just wait and hope. The threatening storm may be our saviour.’
‘That’s it?’ she snapped and turned to face him, suddenly so very close that his chest tightened and for a moment he couldn’t say anything. ‘That’s your master plan?’
Amber clung to his arm and he closed his eyes against the raging emotions inside him. She was seeking his protection; even if she didn’t utter a word, her actions told him that. His mind raced back in time, to the moment he’d failed to protect his mother. He could hear her scream and feel the fiery pain in his chest as he was pushed against the sharp corner of a marble statue pedestal.
‘Kazim, someone’s trying to get in.’ Amber’s panicked words hurtled him back to the present and he leapt to his feet, preparing to defend.
Relief surged through him as the son of the nomad elder rushed in, his words as hurried as his entrance.
‘What is it?’ Amber asked as the nomad quickly left. ‘Do you need to go?’
He shook his head, trying to regain his usual control, thankful that the wind had played its part to their advantage. ‘They have gone. It seems the wind is mistress of the desert tonight.’
She sighed in relief. ‘Are you sure they won’t come back?’
‘Not tonight,’ he said as he sat next to her, wanting to hold her. ‘All we need to worry about now is the wind and staying safe.’
‘Are you trying to seduce me?’ she teased and his pulse rate rocketed into overdrive.
‘I would not be deceitful enough to use the cover of an impending storm—neither would I need to.’ He looked deep into her eyes, trying to fathom the emotions that were buried within them. The truth was: he did want to seduce her. With every cell in his body he wanted her; despite everything, he still craved the release being with her could give him.
The intensity of that lust was something he’d never experienced before. Usually the novelty of a woman wore off once he’d bedded her, but with Amber it was different. Was that because he’d waited so long to claim her, to then discover that she too had waited and that she was truly his?
‘I wasn’t trying to deceive you, Kazim,’ she said softly as her gaze lowered, those long lashes covering her eyes, hiding her soul from his scrutiny. But her apology only raised more questions.
‘On our wedding day you tried to be something which I now know you were not. Now I discover you knew of your father’s allegiance with the rebels. How can I ever trust you?’
If he could walk away from her at this minute he would. But he couldn’t. They were trapped together in this tent and, judging by the sound of the wind outside, they would be for some time yet. Could he turn it to his advantage? Find out the truth about the woman he’d married, once and for all?
* * *
Amber sighed. Did he not trust anything she’d said or done? ‘From day one of our marriage it was doomed. You didn’t want to believe me; you only wanted to believe what you saw—or what you thought you saw.’
‘What I saw then and still see now is a woman who was very proficient at weaving a web of lies. The same woman who is unable to deny the facts I’ve just presented her with. You do not know truth.’ His words were slow but firm and she glanced up at his profile, his handsome face drawn into a mask of concentration.
Around them the wind buffeted the tent, seemingly determined to gain entry. Nervously she watched the fabric shifting ominously in the low light from the lanterns. It should be romantic, a time for two lovers to come together and lose themselves from the outside world.
But they were not lovers. What they shared was an undeniable spark of attraction—one that demanded satisfaction and one she was sure would fade in time until it was nothing more than glowing coals amidst a dying fire.
‘I was doing my duty, Kazim. Surely you, of all people, can relate to that?’ They had been forced together by the might of the desert and he had to listen to her, had to see why she’d acted as she had. She pressed on before he added anything and distracted her from her mission. ‘It was made very clear to me that, to inherit your father’s kingdom, it was of the utmost importance that our marriage went ahead.’
‘That, at least, is true.’ He picked up a gold cushion, absently examining the braiding. Anything other than look at her it seemed. ‘I was told much the same. As long as we consummated the marriage it did not matter if we lived together afterwards or not—for a while, at least. That is the only reason I agreed to it.’
‘But you weren’t even able to consummate the marriage.’ Anger burst to life once more inside her, rushing through her veins so insistently she wanted to get up off the bed and run as far away as possible. She fought the urge with everything she had. ‘Why was that, Kazim? Did you hate me that much?’
‘No!’ He rounded on her, furiously throwing the cushion aside. ‘I hated that we were forced to marry. I had a life. I’d built up a successful business. I never wanted to inherit.’
He took a deep breath and looked at her and she waited, biting down on her lip anxiously.
‘I didn’t want responsibility either for the people of Barazbin or for you. I didn’t want to desire you or make you truly my wife because you represented all that I resented.’
His harsh words hit hard and she blinked in shock. He really did dislike her and certainly hated the fact that they had been forced to marry. As soon as she could she would leave this country, this man, and go back home to Paris.
‘I had no knowledge of what my father was doing,’ she pushed on, needing to clear her name, but not wanting to cause any problems for her mother. It wasn’t going to be achievable, judging from the look on Kazim’s face.
He got up and marched away from her, pacing across the carpet so fast it was as if he would at any moment walk out beyond the tent and into the desert, which she was quickly realising was his mistress.
He turned to her, anger evident in the rigidity of his stance. ‘You should have told me.’
Her eyes widened in shock. This was the last thing she’d expected to hear from him and she could barely stammer out the words. ‘I couldn’t...my mother...’ she stammered, feeling as if she was losing her footing.
‘Don’t try and tell me you didn’t know anything about it, that your mother was the one who told you.’
‘I didn’t.’ Her words were a strangled whisper, his nearness and the shock of his accusation clamping tightly on her throat. He didn’t believe anything she said and never had.
The blackness of his eyes darkened and the intensity of his gaze became too much and she moved away from him, walking across the carpet as he had just done. Beneath her feet the sand moved, reminding her just how volatile the peace they’d recently shared actually was.
‘But you still didn’t tell me.’ It wasn’t a question, but a statement. One filled with regret. ‘You had plenty of opportunity to tell me on the drive here.’
‘I’m sorry. I
