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“Why?”
“Because,” she said, looking down at his hand. “I know where my trouble spots are.”
He kissed her then, his tongue probing and hungry. When he pulled back, he stroked her belly. “You gave life. You did something amazing.”
“A lot of women can,” she said.
“That’s not the point. What I mean is that every part of you is a testament to the woman you are now, and you’re someone I care about very much. I think you couldn’t be more gorgeous, my fiery phoenix.”
“Aww, I’m going to melt right here if you keep making me gush,” she said. Then Brenda turned to the camel and frowned. “I have no idea how to even get up there!”
“There are steps,” Jamsheed started, even as he rushed to her side and swept her up in his grip. “On the other hand, I prefer to put you on the saddle myself.”
She squealed, her heart feeling light again. Brenda had to banish her insecurities. If Anne were here, her friend would tell her that when a hot sheikh told a girl she was gorgeous, she should believe him. No sadness, and Jazmina promised everything about Abir and inheritances would be revealed. Right now, she was in the arms of the man she had a crush on for months, the man who made her heart race on the London Eye, and the man who made her heart pound late at night as she touched herself.
Jamsheed helped her ease into the saddle and she settled toward the back, settling into the leather as well as she could. In one fluid motion, he leapt in front of her and grabbed the reins. His ankles tapped against the camel’s sides and, as she watched, the animal spit once into the sand. Then it was off at a steady pace.
The first step made her almost slip from her seat. She’d never even ridden a horse, let alone a camel, and Brenda fell forward, grabbing tightly around Jamsheed’s waist. His back was broad and felt like solid steel. As she burrowed into him, finding safe purchase there, Brenda was caught up in his scent: that heavenly tease of turmeric and male musk, that exotic sense of spice that set her body on fire.
“Do you like it so far?” he asked, as the passed the dunes, set off by the orange and magenta of the fading sun.
The breath caught in her throat as Brenda looked out at the rolling hills before her. The Manilla walls of the castle faded from sight as the swirling sands spread out to meet them. The wind still blew strongly, and hints of sands flicked against her hair.
But it didn’t matter. She was with Jamsheed, and she felt protected and cherished. Everything else would come with time.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Jamsheed glanced over his shoulder and smiled back at her, his amber eyes as alluring as ever. “I was thinking the same thing.”
***
Brenda leaned against the fuchsia silk pillow beneath her. The tent they arrived at was made to mimic the old style of ancient Bedouin caravans. On the outside, the plain canvas flapped in the wind and sand but kept most everything out. Inside, sumptuous fabrics hung from the ceiling and one dramatic, crystalline chandelier adorned the center of the tent. It wasn’t camping. It wasn’t even the “glamping” or “glamorous camping” that Anne had tried to sell her on for vacations in the past. No, this was luxury. It was a window to the past, to the way that some of his people—some of the citizens of Zomelia—had lived their lives for centuries.
The food laid out before them was quite the spread: perfectly roasted lamb, falafel, dates, olives, pita bread, and a half dozen dishes heavily spiced that made her stomach rumble greedily and been labeled with names that were impossible for her to remember. All Brenda knew was that it was the best meal she’d ever eaten in her life, and if she moved to Zomelia permanently, she’d end up as big as a house.
It would be worth it.
Even if this was some Hansel-and-Gretelesque scam to fatten her up for nefarious purposes, at least Brenda could say she died after living her best days in the romantic deserts of Zomelia.
She leaned back and opened her mouth wide so that Jamsheed could hand-feed her the mouthwateringly sweet morsels of baklava that his personal chef had prepared for them. He lowered the last piece to her lips, and Brenda took it gratefully but didn’t stop there. She let her tongue trail out to lave delicately over the length of his forefinger. It tasted of salt but also of him, promising that pure sensuality that poured from Jamsheed. That part of him that was so utterly male, and so utterly divine.
“You know,” she said, as she pulled back and swallowed the last bits, her voice taking on a deep alto lilt. He did that to her; made her feel more like a woman than any man before him ever had, called to something primal and elemental within her. “There are other types of dessert we can feast on, and I’m ready to do more than what we did at the London Eye. I might not be ready to be in your bed full time or to move into your wing yet. That’s a huge commitment.”
Jamsheed nodded. “We can get to that.”
“But, I know I’ve come for you, and I want to show you how much that means to me. How much you mean to me.”
Jamsheed leaned forward and kissed her, his tongue warm and powerful against her own in their joined mouths. After moments locked in their embrace, he broke the kiss and said, “You never have to do anything to ‘prove’ you care for me.”
She snaked her hand out and trailed it up his thigh, letting her nail slide against the thick denim of his jeans. “I’m not proving, but I do want you to be happy. You have so much on your shoulders right now. Literally, the fate of a whole nation.” She frowned, her mind coming out of her bliss-filled fog and recalling the ugliness with Abir the night before. “At least I think you do.”
Jamsheed sighed and opened his arms wide. “Come sit.”
Brenda didn’t have to be asked twice. She scooted into his open arms and tried to keep herself focused even as the hardness of his length settled against her hips. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him, but she could see sadness in his eyes.
How bad are things with Abir, really?
“There are certain rules about succession, and I need to be honest with what I’ve learned about the way heirs are fully chosen in Zomelia.”
