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‘We take this slowly,’ he explained in a husky whisper.
She didn’t want ‘slowly’. She wanted firm and fast and hard. And deep...so deep. ‘Please,’ she begged, writhing provocatively beneath him.
Pinning her wrists above her head, he teased her repeatedly, each time sinking a little deeper. ‘Yes,’ she groaned as he took her by thrilling degrees, ‘Oh, yes...’
When he was lodged to the hilt, he worked his hips round and round and from side to side, making it impossible not to claim a greedy release.
‘That was naughty,’ he scolded when she quietened. ‘Did I say you could?’
‘You didn’t say I couldn’t,’ Millie countered. ‘And it’s your turn now.’
‘Not for a long time yet,’ he said, starting up a rhythmical pattern that made further argument the last thing in her head.
She didn’t wait, and as she greedily flew into pleasure, he remarked, ‘You are on a knife’s edge,’ making it sound like the best sort of praise.
You have no idea, Millie thought as she bucked back and forth to claim the very last pulse of pleasure. She’d had no idea she was even capable of such extremes, or that this would fast become as necessary as breathing to her. ‘I’ll never get enough of you,’ she admitted, her voice muffled against Khalid’s chest.
‘I look forward to putting that to the test,’ he said. Raising her face to his, he kissed her with such lingering intensity that this time she couldn’t hide her tears.
* * *
What the hell was he thinking? Khalid mused as he paced the deck outside his stateroom. Dawn was breaking. Millie was still sleeping, so at least he had a chance to think. Was he going to trample her feelings a second time? Crumpling the note handed to him by his aide de camp, he cursed viciously. In the shower before he’d received the note, he had pictured taking her to the desert, but now everything had changed. A rumble of thunder drew his attention to the sky where storm clouds were gathering. The change in the weather was a reminder that nothing remained the same. A prospective bride had arrived uninvited in Khalifa, and was waiting with her family in the guest wing of his palace in the capital. It was politically expedient to meet her, for her brother was one of the Sapphire Sheikhs.
However many times he tried to tell himself this voyage was an entertaining interlude and nothing more, Millie’s trusting face appeared in front of him. A slave to duty, who was determined to give his people better after Saif had almost ruined Khalifa with his excesses, Khalid owed it to his people to marry and provide them with an heir. He was expected to make a political alliance, a business transaction between neighbouring countries to strengthen borders and improve trade. His personal wishes didn’t come into it.
Then change tradition.
He laughed out loud as the thought occurred to him. It was so simple in theory, and yet impossible. Things moved too slowly; they always had.
Then change them.
He placed the call.
‘I will be in the desert for the next month,’ he informed one of his aides at the palace. ‘Please give my apologies to the Princess and her family. I will endeavour to make up for this confusion with a substantial donation to their wildlife protection scheme.’
He felt a surge of triumph when he cut the line, then wondered if a month in the desert with Millie would be too long. She commanded his attention like no one else. Maybe a month wouldn’t be long enough! When she came out on deck to join him, swathed in a cashmere throw because the Sapphire was still heading for warmer climes, he knew he’d made the right decision. Bathed in the clear, early light of dawn, she looked so young and innocent, and yet her cheeks were flushed with a new understanding of pleasure.
‘I missed you,’ she whispered, clinging to him, and when she raised her face, her eyes were bright with love.
‘Did you sleep well?’ he asked.
‘What do you think?’ Millie murmured, and instead of looking behind them, to where there was no longer any British shore to see, she stared ahead with him, to the future and to Khalifa.
They kissed and he wound his hands through her soft bright hair. It fell in lustrous waves to her waist, though it was a little tangled, and he loved that, because it reminded him of the pleasure they’d shared. Linking fingers, he kissed her again, and when finally they broke apart his decision had been made. ‘Be ready in half an hour,’ he told her.
‘Ready for what?’ she asked.
‘For the adventure to continue.’ When she looked at him for more information, he added, ‘We’ll travel by helicopter first, and then on by private jet to Khalifa.’
‘Khalifa,’ she breathed. Worry and anticipation battled for supremacy in her eyes.
‘Don’t change your mind now,’ he warned good-humouredly. ‘I know you’re as impatient as I am to see my homeland.’
‘I’m curious,’ she agreed, biting her lip as she admitted this.
‘More than that, I think. Pack a small case with essentials.’ When she started to question him, he said, ‘You’ll only need a small bag. You’ll find one in your dressing room. Everything else will be waiting for you at our destination.’
‘Khalifa,’ she repeated, still a little wary, but unable to hide her growing excitement.
‘Now, be quick,’ he urged as he kissed her.
* * *
Millie’s first sight of the desert knocked the breath from her lungs. Whatever she’d been expecting, this was more. After swooping low over a bright blue sea, they had landed on a small, private airstrip close to the beach where a large marquee had been erected, and uniformed attendants stood in an orderly row, waiting to greet them. The men were dressed in black, their faces covered apart from their eyes. Dressed in tunics and baggy trousers, with long, curving daggers secured inside their belts, they were an intimidating sight. A sense of unreality struck her as she looked around, trying to take everything in. With a backdrop of burnished blue sky, blazing sun and endless sand, the scene was like something out of a thrilling and exotic movie. And she was playing one of the leading roles with a man at her side who made every film star seem like a pallid sham. This was real, and this was incredible.
A red carpet led from the steps of the jet to the enormous white tent, on top of which fluttered Khalid’s personal insignia: the hawk of the desert in black and gold on a red ground. Having piloted the helicopter from the superyacht, Khalid had flown them in one of his private jets from the large international airport. There was no sign of a limousine or sleek SUV waiting to take them on to their next destination. Instead, a number of horses were tethered beneath the shade of a large awning...
‘Welcome to Khalifa,’ Khalid said, distracting her from the lavishly caparisoned horses as he urged her forward.
Everything was very new and very strange and very wonderful. His hand on her arm was reassuring. And arousing. The look in his eyes was hypnotising. After so many hours of enforced separation in the jet, she longed for his prolonged attention—time alone, to confide and make love. His steadying hand was both a curb
on those thoughts, and a reminder of the pleasure they’d shared.
‘What do you think?’ he said as he turned to look at her at the entrance to the grand pavilion.
‘Amazing.’ She stared past the guards to the rich colours in the womb-like, shadowy interior. ‘It’s certainly a contrast to home.’ Where a subdued colour palette ruled at King’s Dock thanks to the regular rainfall.
‘Millie?’
Having no experience of the desert, other than in books, she was overcome by the vastness of the sand stretching away on every side for unseen miles. She was nothing more than a grain of sand in the grand scheme of things. ‘I’m disorientated,’ she confessed. ‘I’ve never seen anything on this scale.’ And she was a long way from home.
This journey was reckless. She was miles away from anything familiar, with only a mobile phone and a failing battery between her and complete isolation. She must place her trust in Khalid. And her own, keenly developed sense of survival, Millie reminded herself as she followed him into the shade.
‘You’ll be cooler in here.’
He was right. With no obvious sign of air-con, the billowing tent was cool and airy inside.
‘Well?’ he asked as she stared around.
‘It’s wonderful. I can’t believe I’m here,’ she exclaimed as she walked across the rugs to admire some ancient wall hangings. ‘It’s such a soothing setting.’ The stench of aviation fuel had been shut out, and was replaced by the evocative scent of spice. ‘I love it,’ she said, turning back to face Khalid. This was no Hollywood replica of a warrior king’s tent, but a shaded sanctuary, illuminated by the glow of golden lanterns. Fabrics in a rich variety of jewel shades made it welcoming, while bowls of freshly picked fruit, and jugs of juice waited on a pierced golden table to tempt them. ‘All this for us,’ she said. ‘For you, anyway,’ she amended with a wry smile.
‘This is for your pleasure,’ he argued softly.
‘Well, it’s fabulous. It’s a travelling palace.’
