To Tempt a Sheikh(23)

He sat up slowly. "Reverence doesn't matter to me. I never do anything  in anticipation of anyone's thanks or admiration. I surely don't expect  either, or care if I get them."

Her lips twitched. "Too bad. You'll just have to keep your chin up and  take shiploads of both like the worshipped prince you are. Judging by  the way the oasis inhabitants treat you, you're far more than that to  them. And it is only you, not the whole royal family. You personally  have done so much for them."

"I only do what I am in a position to do. I don't deserve credit or  gratitude for doing my duty, but I would have earned disrespect and  disrepute if I didn't."

"As you say around here, 'squeeze a lemon on it,'" she teased.

"So I can stomach the queasiness of adulation? Do you at least believe I never expect, let alone crave, any of it?"

"Oh, yes. I saw you squirming when they told tales of your glories last night. You sure don't crave anyone's adulation."

"I didn't say that."

Her heart punched her ribs. "You … crave mine?"

His nod was solemn. "I crave your acceptance, your approval."                       
       
           



       

"Uh … you have been around the past two weeks, right?"

He rose until he was on his knees, towering over her. "I need to hear  it, ya nadda jannati, in your inimitable words. What you think of me is  the only validation I have ever craved."

She struggled with an attack of arrhythmia. But he'd demanded. And the  truth was his due, the least she could give him when she owed him her  very life.

She gave it to him. "From the first moment, you forced me to reassess  you. With every action and word, you showed me you are all that's  advertised and far more. Stripped from all the trappings of your power,  you proved to be the total opposite of what I thought, with stamina and  resourcefulness and bravery that constantly awe me. You showed me you  take your duty to protect anyone weaker than you, at whatever cost to  you, more seriously than I thought possible in this day and age. I  believe you're one of a kind, Prince Harres Aal Shalaan."

His gaze lengthened, heated, until she felt she'd burst into flames.  Just when she was about to whimper, please, enough, he took her hand,  buried his face in its palm for a long moment.

Then raggedly, still against her flesh, he whispered, "You honor me with your opinion. I will always strive to deserve it."

From then on, the atmosphere seemed charged with emotion, intensifying each sensation into near distress.

As if by agreement, they barely spoke as they had their meal. She was  thankful for the silence. It gave her the chance to deal with her  upheaval and face herself with more truths.

There were Aal Shalaans who hadn't hesitated to destroy Todd's life to  gain their ends, but she could no longer dip the whole family in the  bile of her anger and prejudice. And just as she didn't know who exactly  among the Aal Shalaans and Ghada's family were culpable, there could be  sides to the story that would change her perspective. Whatever that  became, she now believed, from Harres's example, that the Aal Shalaans  weren't an evil regime that deserved to be deposed.

Which led her to more realizations. And a decision.

Soon it got chilly and they rode through the now sleeping oasis back to the cottage under the blaze of a full moon.

Inside, they took turns bathing.

The moment he came out into the sitting area, she began. "I decided something when I thought I was dying."

His smile froze, his face slamming shut. "Don't say that again. Don't even think it."

"I need to tell you this." She waited until he gave a difficult nod,  then went on. "When I thought it was over, I thought that if I had a  chance to do things over, or a second chance to put things right, I'd do  what I really wanted to do, with no thought to obstacles or misgivings  or consequences. Then you saved me. And I got cold feet."

He didn't ask her to elaborate. He just stared at her, seriousness seizing his face fully for the first time.

She knew this would lead nowhere. And it made no difference.

She loved him. A love that permeated her soul and traversed her being. A  love forged in shared danger, fortified by the certainty of mutual  reliance. And she was no longer letting anything stop her from  expressing that love, from taking what she could with him, of him.

She rose from the low couch, her steps impeded by the ferocity of her  emotions. She stopped before him, looked up into the eyes that meant  everything to her. Then she made the leap.

"You told me you'd never do anything I didn't want you to, didn't beg  you to do. So here I am, begging you. I want you, Harres. I want nothing  but you."





Ten




So this was temptation.

Unstoppable, irresistible. To die for.

This golden virago who'd invaded his being, occupied his mind and heart, conquered his reason and priorities.

She stood before him, open, offering everything. He could feel, in every  nuance of his essence, the totality of her offer. It wasn't only of her  body and pleasures. She was bestowing all she had, all she was, on him.

And if he closed the gap between them now, he'd take all of her, consume her.

But how could he when he couldn't give his all in return?

She did have all of him, Harres, the man, the human being. She had since  that first night in the desert, when they'd been stripped to their  essentials, when their souls had mingled in the most profound ways  possible. If he'd had any concerns that the ordeal had augmented his  feelings, influenced their depth and direction, the past ten days had  erased them, had replaced them with certainty and wonder.

Added to how she'd awed him with the way she'd handled their trials,  stood up to and beside him. She'd delighted him with every second of  their stay in the oasis. After only a week, even with the language  obstacle, she was already the more favorite among the inhabitants.                       
       
           



       

The day after the feast, she'd set up a clinic, offered her services.  He'd thought those who'd relied on healing practices passed down through  generations would shy away from her and her modern medical practices  and instruments. But she'd anticipated that, offered only her medical  skills and whatever the oasis provided of supplies and medicines. After a  slow day, she'd been called to an obstructed labor, where she'd saved  both mother and twin babies.

Then she'd become a legend. People had flooded in. They'd stood in  queues from morning till sunset, when he, who acted as her assistant,  insisted the doctor needed rest. She kept proving how she, too, needed  nothing beyond her diverse skills to survive and excel anywhere, under  any conditions. He told her she was the epitome of the Arabic proverb "A  skilled woman weaves with a donkey's leg" and teased her about being  Dr. MacGyver.

She wasn't just a healer, but a warrior and a protector like him. She  shared his soul in all its breadth and peculiarities. He wanted, needed  to share the rest of himself with her, for the rest of his life. There  was no doubt in him anymore. Harres, the man, was hers. Forever.

And though Harres the prince had divided loyalties, that wasn't what  stopped him from proclaiming his love, his devotion. Only one thing did.  Her grievance against his family. If everything she'd told him was the  truth, she had legitimate reason to want to bring his family-which she  perceived as a unit that worked to the same end of retaining power-to  her brand of justice. What if he couldn't secure her brother's release  and redemption? How could he take her, when he couldn't promise that in  return?

Turmoil ripped the bindings of his heart. And that was before she closed  her eyes, her chin trembling as two crystalline tears escaped her  luxurious lashes.

Then she raised glistening azure eyes and he nearly had a heart attack. "I thought you wanted me, too … ."

He couldn't bear it. Elal jaheem with the obstacles between them. He would obliterate them.

With a sob, she began to turn away. He grabbed her hand, placed it on  his chest, felt as if his heart would ram through it to feel the touch  of that hand that healed so many, that had saved him.

Her hand shook under his, each tremor an electric shock. Her words' effect was more brutal.

"Just forget I said anything. I've put you in an awkward position, what  with all the things that remain unresolved. And then you've probably  been flirting with me with no intention of taking it any further, and I  understand your motivation, totally-"

"Oh, shut up."

Her mouth fell open at his growl, her eyes snapping wide, those eyes  that glowed an unearthly blue in the vividness of the honey tan the  desert sun had poured over her.

He looked down at her in that satiny dress that hung from her shoulders  in relaxed pleats to the floor, another that the oasis women had given  her in a shade that attempted to emulate the eyes that so fascinated  them. The dress was by no stretch sexy. Not on anyone else. On her, it  was the ultimate in eroticism.