AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Aren’t we being Mr. Imperious?”
She wanted to pursue the topic, to find out what he thought she might do with his chief of security. She found she sort of liked the idea of Kardal being a little bit jealous. He’d never said how he felt about their kissing and the touching. She didn’t want to be the only one affected by the experience. Apparently she was not.
Kardal felt restless as he approached Sabrina’s room that evening. He normally didn’t allow himself to feel ill at ease. Not since those first disastrous years at the American boarding school. He’d taught himself all he needed to know in order to fit in. Since then he had not experienced the nagging sensation of needing to be doing something else.
But the feeling was with him tonight. Perhaps it was because he was going to dine with his betrothed, speak with her, look upon her and perhaps touch her. But he would not be able to have her.
He had thought he might grow to like his future wife, although he had doubted the possibility. He’d thought they might find some common interests…eventually. He’d hoped to find her somewhat easy to talk to. He had never thought he would ache for her. Ache in a way that haunted his sleep until he was reduced to dreaming about her like a teenage boy dreaming of a film star.
He was the Prince of Thieves. Custom stated that it was an honor to be chosen for his bed. Like his grandfather before him, he had been careful not to abuse the privilege, taking only the willing and experienced. A young widow of an unhappy arranged marriage. A divorced computer technician trained in the west. No married women, no innocents. The Prince of Thieves did not defile virgins.
Nor did he take innocent princesses to his bed, however much he might like to. Which left him wanting and unable to satisfy that want. It was a most uncomfortable and unfamiliar circumstance. One he would like to change as soon as possible. Yet he could not. Not without setting both himself and Sabrina on a course from which there was no escape.
Did he want to marry her? Was the wanting simply a desire to tame a beautiful woman who challenged him, or was it something more? Love was an emotion created by women for their own use. It had no place in a man’s world, except for the love a man might have for his children.
Kardal paused in the corridor and frowned. Children? Had he thought “children” and not just sons? Would he love his daughters as well?
The image of a red-haired girl riding fearlessly across the desert filled his mind. He heard her laughter and felt pride in the strong, sure movements of her small body. Yes, he thought in some surprise. He would love a daughter. Perhaps even as much as a son. Five years ago he could not have imagined such a thing. What had changed?
Not wanting to know the answer, Kardal stalked toward Sabrina’s room, then entered without knocking. He found her curled up in a chair in front of the fire, comparing a gold and ruby bracelet with some pictures in a large textbook.
“I knew you would be unable to resist taking some of the treasure for yourself,” he said by way of greeting. “As you see, it’s easy to say ‘give it back to the rightful owners’ when it is not yours to own. But put the items in your hand and things change.”
She laughed. “Good try, Kardal, but not even close to the truth. I’m trying to place the age of this piece. It’s a blend of styles.” She closed the book and set it on the table next to her chair, then put down the bracelet as well. “I’m thinking that the artist was originally from El Bahar or Bahania and then moved to Italy at some point. Maybe the late 1400s.”
She rose and crossed toward him. “How was your day?”
She moved with the grace of a hawk—her body curved and swaying. The ancient rhythm of the female called to him so strongly it was all he could do to resist her siren song. The ache returned and with it the desire to claim her as his own. To be her first—her only. To touch and taste her innocence, then to change her into a woman and discover all the possibilities they could create together.
However, this was not the time. Kardal ignored the fire inside of him and instead handed her the saddlebags he’d slung over his shoulder.
“Your horse and your camel were found wandering in the desert. I believe these belong to you.”
She laughed and took the bags from him. “My maps and diaries,” she said with delight. “Not that I need them to find my way to the city now. Thank you for bringing them to me. And I appreciate knowing my animals are all right. I’ve been worried about them.”
“They were found by a tribe of nomads right after the storm,” he told her, watching her open the saddlebags and pull out the contents. “They have been safe since then. The tribe was making its way to the city and turned them over to me as soon as they arrived.”
