this way would be much better. They would have privacy in Qais. And if there was one thing he hungered for almost as much as Jasmine in his bed, it was the freedom of the desert.
Jasmine was right. Their paths lay elsewhere. He would allow her to follow the path she’d chosen for herself. He would give Jasmine her divorce.
But not yet.
For now, Kareef had only one desire. One need. To satisfy this all-consuming hunger of thirteen years.
For her.
Was she sleeping now in that little bed of hers in the palace? Was she naked? Was she dreaming? He closed his eyes, imagining her hair tousled, her soft body warm beneath the blankets. He growled. Every moment away from her seemed wasted.
But at least this particular royal appointment was one he’d looked forward to. As his chauffeur opened the door of the silver limousine, Kareef climbed out, the wind whirling his ceremonial white robes around his ankles as he glanced around him on the tarmac.
Behind him was the second limousine of his motorcade; to the left were four uniformed motorcyclists and his own Bentley, with flags bearing the royal insignia of Qusay whipping in the wind. Directly in front of him he saw his brother’s Gulfstream jet, newly arrived from Australia.
His spirits rose still higher.
A perfect day, he thought. Jasmine would soon be in his bed. Rafiq had just returned to Qusay, and even Tahir, who’d been in self-imposed exile for so many years, was on the way. Kareef’s heart suddenly felt as bright as the Qusani sun shimmering heat against his white robes.
Rafiq appeared at the door of his airplane. At thirty, there were faint lines at his brother’s narrowed eyes, a ruthless set of his jaw that hadn’t been there before. Years building a worldwide business empire had changed Rafiq every bit as much as Kareef’s years in the desert had changed him.
But as his brother came down the steps to the tarmac, looking every inch the sleek, sharp tycoon in his gray Armani suit, Kareef took one look at him and grinned. “Rafiq!”
“It is good to see you, big brother,” Rafiq replied, taking Kareef by the arm. Pulling him close, he slapped him on the back, then teased, “Or should I call you ‘sire’?”
With a snort, Kareef waved the joke aside. He ushered his brother into the cool interior of the waiting limousine and the chauffeur closed the door solidly behind them. The motorcade pulled away, motorcycle lights flashing as they left the airport. “It’s good you could come at such short notice.”
“You think I would miss your coronation?”
“You almost missed Xavian’s wedding. How long were you here? Three? Four hours at most.”
“It is true,” Rafiq conceded. “Although as it turns out, he wasn’t Xavian, our cousin after all. But there was no way I was not coming for your coronation. And if there is one thing I am sure of, Kareef, it’s that you are indeed my brother.” They exchanged a grin, their eyes the same shade of blue, each with the same chiselled jawline. “Speaking of brothers, where is Tahir? Is our wayward brother to grace us with his presence this time?”
Kareef frowned. “I spoke with him…” Name of God, was it only last night, after he’d left Jasmine in the garden? It seemed far longer than that. He’d spent all night dreaming of Jasmine—and all morning dealing with Akmal, his vizier, who was furious at Kareef’s plans to leave for the desert. He smiled broadly. “I spoke with him yesterday.”
“I don’t believe it!”
“It’s true. Though it wasn’t easy to track him down in Monte Carlo, he’s coming to the coronation.”
“All three of us, back here at the same time?” his brother said in amazement.
“It’s been too long,” Kareef agreed.
Rafiq suddenly gave him a sharp look. “That’s quite a smile.”
He blinked. “Of course I would smile. You’re here and Tahir is on his way.”
His brother narrowed his eyes, looking at him keenly. “You’re smiling with your whole face,” he observed. “I haven’t seen you do that for years. Care to explain?”
“You’ll know everything soon enough.” And he feared it was true. Rafiq had always been the sharp-est—the most ruthless—of the brothers. To change the subject, Kareef leaned forward and slapped his hands on his thighs. “But you are here and that, my brother, is a good thing. I hear your business goes from strength to strength. Tell me more.”
The journey through the city was swift as traffic halted for the king’s motorcade. Kareef tried to pay attention to the details of the new emporiums Rafiq had just opened in Auckland and Perth, but his mind kept wandering to the woman who waited for him at the palace. And the night that awaited them in the desert.
Jasmine would resist him. He knew that. He also knew she would fall. She would be in his bed—tonight. Tomorrow. And the day after that, if he still wanted her. He would make love to her until they were both utterly spent.
Then, and only then he would speak the words that would part them forever. And let her go on to her marriage.
His smile faltered. The motorcade went past the palace gate and stopped beneath a portico. A turbaned footman opened his door. As they went up the sweeping steps, Kareef glanced back at his brother. Rafiq seemed dazed as he stared up at the turrets and domes reaching into the sky, glowing like a pearl beneath the noonday sun.
Kareef stopped, taking his brother by the arm. “Here I must leave you, my brother. So if you will excuse me…”
Rafiq cocked a suspicious eyebrow. “Off to place a bet on the Qais Cup?”
Kareef laughed. “I haven’t gambled on a horse race in years.”
“Then it’s being crowned king,” he guessed. “All that raw power.” He winked. “I’m almost envious, my brother.”
“No.” That definitely wasn’t it. “Excuse me.”
“Then what is it?” his brother called after him. “What’s got you so damned happy?”
Kareef didn’t answer. He hurried down the stone cloister of ancient Byzantine arches around the courtyard. Servants stopped to bow as he rushed past them, his white robes whipping around his ankles. In the courtyard, the sun shone bright and hot. A warm breeze blew through the palm trees, rich with the fragrance of spice and oranges.
Her scent.
He glanced at the bright blue sky, hearing birdsong from the garden. It was after noon, and he hadn’t yet eaten. But he hungered for only one thing.
He found Jasmine waiting in her small bedroom in the servants’ wing, sitting on the bed reading a paperback book, her packed suitcase at her feet. When he opened the door, she looked up, her expression grave and pale.
“Finally, I am ready.” He glanced around the tiny, shabby room, noticing it for the first time. He cleared his throat. “I regret this was the only room available in the palace…”
“That’s
