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Another tear leaked out. She pushed it away, knowing she had no right to be upset. These were tears of self-pity.
Why can’t you ever get any single thing right?
She tried to re-gather some of her anger towards Kamal and his outrageous demands, which had managed to sustain at least a little of her pride and self-worth during that awful meeting. But the scalding anger had died hours ago...and all she felt towards him now was a vague feeling of misery.
Because she couldn’t get the image out of her head of his face as her father had informed him there would be no marriage. For once he had been completely transparent. And, while the foremost emotion had definitely been fury, what she’d also seen was confusion and something that had looked uncomfortably like shame.
As much as she wanted to hate him, she could see she was the one who had been thoughtless and selfish. She’d used him to lose her virginity.
She flushed as the memory of his lips, his tongue and his teeth on her flowed through her again. She could still feel the slow glide of his callused palms owning every inch of her body, making her beg and moan, setting off fires that had finally overwhelmed her completely when his hard, thick length had pressed relentlessly but so carefully into her tender flesh. And she’d surrendered the last of herself to him.
Heat pulsed and throbbed in the sore spots that still troubled her after last night. Why hadn’t it even occurred to her that there would be emotional repercussions, not just for her, but for him too?
The truth was, she’d totally forgotten about that silly old law, but why hadn’t she figured out that Kamal would consider taking her virginity something he would have to atone for?
On one level, the whole concept of him insisting on marriage was totally nuts. But she knew nothing about him—how he’d come to the throne, the mysterious ‘background’ her father had alluded to—and she hadn’t bothered to ask.
Typical Liah. Just dive in head-first, do what feels good and don’t bother considering anyone else’s feelings or responsibilities.
Shame flooded through her as she spotted the oasis in the distance.
The iridescent pool of water, fed by a spring that flowed over limestone rocks, shimmered in the twilight as night fell. The grove of palms, shrubs and desert blooms provided much-needed shade from the bitter desert sun in the day time. The luxury encampment—several tents and a corral—was kept well-stocked and regularly checked by her father’s staff to ensure her family could escape here when necessary. And it was also a good bolt hole for unwary travellers who got lost in the regions vast and unforgiving landscape.
As she released her hold on Ashreen, the horse broke into a canter, having scented the fresh water. But somehow the place which had always fortified and liberated her as a teenager, a place where she knew she could be one hundred percent herself, felt less of a well-earned escape this evening...and more like a coward’s hideout. Even this oasis couldn’t change the fact she would never be the woman her family needed her to be.
Not a queen. Not a mature woman. But a spoilt child.
After dismounting, she tugged off the saddle and the rest of the tack, her arms aching. As she rubbed the horse down, and fed and watered her before attending to her own needs, she tried to rationalise away the weight still crushing her ribs.
She hadn’t slept well last night. Maybe she just needed a few days here to get over this feeling of ennui and hopelessness? Once Kamal left the palace and returned to Zokar, she would surely be able to make amends for her latest disaster?
But the memory of the disappointment in both her parents’ faces made her stomach tangle into a tight knot of regret. Far worse, though, was the memory of the look in Kamal Zokan’s eyes when he’d walked out of her father’s study—angry and intense but also guarded and wary and, for a moment, beaten down.
Way to go, Liah. The undisputed Queen of Monumental Screw-Ups.
After she had bathed off the trail dust in the cool spring water and lit the torches to keep any unwanted visitors away, she collapsed into the tent and stared at the sturdy poles and embroidered fabrics above her head.
She’d never really considered herself fit to be Queen of Narabia, but now she’d proved it beyond a doubt. Not just to her parents, but to a man who—as much as she wanted never to see or think of him again—she had a bad feeling had left an imprint on her body and soul she might never be able to forget.
As dawn fired across the horizon, Kamal galloped towards the rocky ridge which marked the edge of the Narabian desert, his destination the Azeala Oasis. He had managed to bribe the location out of one of the palace staff as the place where Kaliah Khan might be hiding.
The little coward.
The low-grade fury which had been riding him for over twenty-four hours—ever since Zane Khan had informed him oh, so casually that his honour meant nothing—now felt like a boulder jammed in his throat that he couldn’t dislodge.
He’d attended all the foolish events laid on for the guests yesterday, hoping to corner Kaliah Khan in person and inform her that, whatever her father had said, he would not let her off the hook so easily.
So what if the news of their night together never left the Golden Palace? He would know what he had done—whattheyhad done. What it felt like to feel her swollen flesh stretching to receive him...to take a man’s body for the first time.
Shame, fury and a weird sense of possessiveness engulfed him again. The deed was done. And it couldn’t be undone. Plus, he needed to find a wife this weekend. And, however unsuitable she was, she would have to be the one. Because he’d been so preoccupied with her, he hadn’t had the headspace, or frankly the inclination, to pursue anyone else.
He hit the top of the ridge and tugged on Asad’s reins to survey the land below him.
The morning light illuminated the encampment and the oasis below. The sunrise turned the water to a flaming orange to match the flicker of torches which had burned down during the night.
Was she really here alone, as the stable hand had suggested? Surely it was not safe for her to stay in such a place without an armed guard? He circled round, approaching the encampment from behind, and spotted in the corral the thoroughbred horse she had been riding in the race, munching on its feed-bag.
The mare’s ears pricked up as Asad approached.
