Pursued by the Desert Prince(12)

She resisted his attempt to enfold her, bottom lip caught in her teeth, brow pulled into a wrinkle of angst.

With a flex of agitation at the stiffness of her, he pulled away and sought out his pants from the floor where he'd shed them.

"Explain," he commanded as he stepped into them and zipped. He reached for his shirt, slipping it on but leaving it unbuttoned.

"It's hard," she said in a small voice, one hand lifting helplessly. "It  doesn't even make sense, really. But it's how I feel." She sighed  heavily. "And I am the sensitive one, ruled by my emotions."

She sounded so forlorn.

He folded his arms, trying not to let that niggle at him. He had learned  to shield himself against expressions of deep emotion. Too many times  in his childhood he'd been bombarded by the pain of others-his mother  and Fatina, the king's warring wives, trying to draw him to their side.  Jamal's inner torture then Hasna's unrelenting grief...

There was no way to fix the emotional pain of others. He could only protect himself from becoming wound up in it.

Seeing Angelique had demons warned him to cut short whatever this was,  but he found himself rooted, willing her to speak. He wanted to  understand why she was resisting him. He wanted to help her.

"It was supposed to be me," she said, gaze naked and filled with guilty  torment. "The kidnapping. I was the quiet one. The shy one. The one who  was bad at math and needed a tutor. It was end of semester and our  chauffeur was coming. Trella was already outside. She was the extrovert  who wanted to say goodbye to everyone. My tutor called out to her. He  thought she was me. She went over to tell him I would be out soon and he  grabbed her." She snapped her fingers. "Just like that. Ramon came out  in time to see it happen and chased the van as far as he could, but  they'd plotted their getaway very well..."

Her lips were white. Her hand shook as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Was she...?" He didn't want to finish the question. What kind of person assaulted a nine-year-old child?

"What happened in those five days is Trella's to tell or not," Angelique  said in a voice that quavered. She knew, though. The answer was in her  eyes. Hell. Whatever it was, it had been hell.

Kasim moved to take her cold hands in his, trying to rub warmth into them.

"You're suffering survivor's guilt," he said quietly. "I understand  that." He did. Jamal should be living the life Kasim enjoyed. They were  both sons of the king. There was no difference between them except those  small characteristics that made every person unique unto themselves.

"The guilt is only part of it. We were already legendary, not that we  ever wanted that sort of notoriety, but that's why we were targeted. The  Sauveterre Twins, one of Europe's treasures, right? Of course payment  would be made for Trella's return. Of course the press went mad at the  sensationalism of it."

She cleared her throat, obviously struggling.

"My father had to use that circus to our advantage. I looked just like  Trella so they used me as Trella's face, to plea for her return. Any  tiny thing could have been the key to getting her back. It was horrible  exploitation. He hated himself for doing it to me, but when you're  desperate..."         

     



 

Her eyes filled and she pulled her hand out of his to press the knot of her fist between her breasts.

"All the while... The connection between twins is a real thing, Kasim.  It is for Trella and me. I knew she was terrified and suffering. It was  unbearable. And then she came back to us so broken and I felt that,  too." Her lips quivered.

He had to enfold her in his arms. Had to.

She shook like a tiny animal that had barely escaped certain death.

"She's safe now, hmm?" he coaxed gently into her hair. "Come back,  Angelique. That was a long time ago and she's safe. You're both safe  now."

She nodded and sniffed once, but he could feel the shudders of dark  memory running through her. Her arms went around his waist, beneath his  open shirt. The beadwork on her dress abraded his bare skin. He stroked  her hair, imparting as much comfort as he could, rubbing his chin  against her temple.

"You're afraid to leave her alone, in case something happens again," he surmised.

"I'm afraid all the time of everything." Her cheek was damp where she  pressed it to his chest. "That's who I am, Kasim. I'm the worrier. I'm  the introvert. But I had to become the strong one. The only way I've  ever been able to do that-God, the only way I could find the courage to  stand in front of cameras and beg for her return was to pretend I was  her. I had to become her in some ways. How could I ever go back to being  quiet, shy Angelique who leaned on her sister for confidence? My  support was shattered. She needed me to be that person."

She wiped at her cheek and settled against him again.

"We should be two carefree young women, but she was cheated. I know she  would have risen to the challenge if it had been me so I have to do that  for her. Everything I do is for both of us. Sometimes I feel like I am  her and I don't know how to be just me."

Her odd comment at dinner about being each other, which he had thought  was a bit of twin peculiarity, now made more sense. So did the one about  her not letting herself "be."

"Who were you tonight?" he asked, cupping the side of her neck, invaded  by a prickling tension as he urged her to look up at him.

She drew back, but her gaze stayed on her own fingertips as she smoothed  the hairs down his breastbone in a petting caress that made shivers of  delight travel up his spine.

"I stole tonight for myself."

"Good. That is the correct answer."

She tsked and gave him a little shove. He only settled her closer,  pleased when she relaxed and rested her head against his shoulder again,  arms looped around his waist.

"But I can't be selfish and take what I want. I can't do that to Trella. Do you understand?"

"You know you cannot live someone else's life for them, don't you?" How  many times had he tried to solve Jamal's "problem" to no avail? "You  cannot shelter someone forever. It's not fair to either of you. We are  each responsible for our own lives."

"I know," she murmured. "Separating my life from my sister's has to  happen. We both know that. But I can't force that on her and I certainly  won't let you force it. And the truth is..." She tilted back her head  to look up at him with a solemn expression. "I am not impulsive. I am a  thinker. If you want Angelique to go anywhere with you, you have to give  Angelique time to put it all together in her pretty little head."

He pondered that, distantly aware he didn't have much time. His father  was already talking about finding him a bride as soon as Hasna's wedding  was out of the way.

"How much time do you need? I was going to leave first thing in the  morning and it's already..." He looked around and swore lightly. "There  are no such things as clocks anymore."

Releasing her, he found his cell phone and clicked to see it was nearing  midnight. He dropped the phone into his pocket, then left his hand  there with it. He raised the other to pinch his bottom lip.

"I have meetings in the morning. Come later in the day. I'll make the arrangements."

"I can make my own arrangements," she informed him, but with a rueful  purse of her lips. "Which I realize you just heard as agreement." She  sighed and touched her brow. "I could call my mother, see if she feels  like spending the night in Paris with Trella. Does anyone ever say no to  you, Kasim?"

"They realize very quickly that it is a waste of both our time. You, apparently, are a slow learner."

"Don't," she said with a little flinch. "It's still a sore point for me.  I can cut out a perfect square meter of fabric by sight, but ask me to  add one half to three quarters and I just embarrass myself. Now I'm  going to put on fresh lipstick." Her hand shook as she picked up the  little golden tube and pointed it at him. "Keep your lips to yourself."         

     



 

"Come here first," he commanded, compelled to reinforce the connection between them.

She paused in winding up the stick of color, sent him a pert look.  "Saying no' would just be a waste of a layer of lipstick, wouldn't it?"

"Look at you. You're actually very quick to learn."

She rolled her eyes, but she came across to kiss him.





CHAPTER SIX

IF I NEED YOU, I'll call.

Trella's words dogged Angelique as she stole off to London. They weren't  telling any of the family that Angelique was leaving Trella for a night  on her own in Paris. Better to let it be a fait accompli, they decided,  given how reluctant their brothers had been to let Trella make the  short flight alone.

Trella had passed her own test "with flying colors," she had excitedly  said about her solitary flight, quite triumphant in her achievement.