Midnight in the Desert. Jane Porter
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he framed urgently as she blinked in bewilderment. ‘We’ve been found and we’re leaving!’
As he strode from the tent she peered out after him and saw a pair of what looked like heavy-duty military helicopters coming in to land. Galvanised into action as she registered that their desert sojourn appeared to be at an end, she yanked open her case in search of something decent to wear. She dressed in haste, choosing cropped trousers and a vest top teamed with a light shirt. As she hastily brushed her hair every movement she made ensured that she remained mortifyingly conscious of the intimate ache between her legs.
The events of the past twelve hours raced through her memory and her slender hands fisted in defensive rejection of her reckless behaviour. As a rule, Ruby didn’t do reckless. Ruby was usually thoughtful and cautious, never impulsive, yet she had, with very little thought, utterly destroyed the platonic marital agreement she had insisted on. All for what? Great sex, she acknowledged shamefacedly, but in the aftermath even greater regrets.
They had agreed to a fake marriage and now how was their relationship to be defined? The agreement had been broken, the boundaries blurred and their respective roles were no longer clear-cut. Raja’s unqualified passion had enthralled her. She had to be honest with herself about that. She found the Najari prince regent incredibly attractive. He fascinated her and he had tempted her from that first kiss back in England. No other man had ever had that effect on her. She had been eager to know what sex was all about, had wanted to feel what other women felt and had sensed from the outset that he might well be the guy who could show her. And he had, unquestionably, shown her. Over and over and over again, she recalled, her face burning. In bed her desert prince ditched all reserve and cool in favour of a scorching-hot sexual intensity that had lit a fire inside her that she could neither resist nor quench.
As Ruby emerged from the tent she saw Raja standing in conversation with several men, all of whom wore military uniform. Every male eye turned towards her and then heads inclined and lowered and a respectful murmur of greeting acknowledged her presence. Raja drew her forward with an assured hand to introduce her to the various air-force personnel before assisting her into the nearest helicopter.
‘We will breakfast in Najar—’
‘I think I should stay in Ashur for the moment,’ Ruby told him quietly. ‘I ought to continue on to where I was heading when we were kidnapped.’
The tall black-haired male by her side frowned down at her.
‘Naturally you want to let your father see that you’re OK as soon as possible. I’ll be fine,’ she asserted lightly.
Raja captured her hand in his. ‘Where’s your wedding ring?’
Ruby glanced down at her bare fingers. ‘Oh, dear, I didn’t notice. It was very loose and it must’ve fallen off. I don’t think it was still on my finger when we arrived here.’
His wide sensual mouth compressed. ‘I will find a replacement.’
A slight hint of amusement on her gaze, Ruby sent him an airy glance as though the matter was too trivial to discuss. ‘No hurry …’
His face hardened, inky lashes dropping low over his intent scrutiny. ‘We must agree to disagree,’ he traded huskily. ‘I will see you tonight—’
‘Tonight?’ Ruby was surprised, having assumed that their separation would last somewhat longer. She was also rather keen to have a decent breathing space in which to regroup.
‘Tonight,’ Raja confirmed, striding off to speak to the pilot before climbing aboard the second helicopter.
During the flight, when Ruby felt nervous tension beginning to rise at the prospect of what expectations might await her in Simis, the capital of Ashur, she breathed in deep. She reminded herself that she was reasonably intelligent, even-tempered and willing to learn, not to mention being filled with good intentions. She didn’t need Raja by her side telling her what to do every minute of the day.
The airport building outside Simis was a large temporary shed. Surrounded by soldiers and police who made her nervous, Ruby was greeted by Wajid Sulieman’s familiar and surprisingly welcome face and tucked straight into a waiting car. His concerned questions about her health and how she had managed in the desert brought a smile to her expressive mouth.
‘I was lucky to have the prince with me,’ she admitted, willing to award honour where it was due. ‘How did you find us?’
‘Someone contacted the media with your location,’ Wajid told her. ‘From the moment that we announced that you were missing, people began gathering outside the palace gates to wait for news. There was great anger and concern on your behalf. Some were quick to suspect the Najaris of duplicity and there were protests. It was a very tense situation.’
‘I’m sure feelings ran equally high in Najar,’ Ruby remarked as the car cut around a horse and cart.
‘Even higher. Your husband is a war hero and tremendously popular,’ Wajid said. ‘It is unfortunate that he was unable to accompany you here but I understand that he will be arriving later.’
‘Yes.’ Crowds lined the old-fashioned city streets and necks were craned to get a better view of her car. ‘Are those people actually waiting to see me?’ Ruby whispered incredulously.
‘There is great excitement and curiosity about your arrival. It is a positive event after so many years of bad news,’ the older man volunteered wryly. ‘For the next few days you will be out and about a good deal to allow people to become familiar with you. The photograph taken after your wedding was very well received. I cannot praise Prince Raja highly enough for having had the foresight to organise it.’
‘Raja thinks of everything,’ Ruby agreed, thinking sunburn, scorpions … sex. A little tremor of heated recollection rippled low in her body and she stiffened, annoyed that even memory could make her so sensually susceptible.
On her short visit to Ashur as a teenager she had seen the imposing grey building that comprised the palace only from the vantage point of the tall wrought-iron gates. A step in the imperious wake of Wajid, she entered the palace from a side entrance where a group of staff bowed low and several introductions were offered. From the hall she was escorted up a staircase.
‘Your uncle, the late King Tamim and his family used the east wing. I thought you might be more comfortable in this more modern corner of the palace.’
Ruby reckoned that only in Wajid’s parlance could a décor at least sixty years out of date be deemed modern. ‘What was my uncle like?’
‘He was rather set in his ways, as was his daughter, Princess Bariah—’
‘My cousin.’
‘A fine young woman, who was of course destined to marry Prince Raja before the accident that took her life and that of her parents,’ the older man remarked in his pedantic manner, quite unaware of Ruby coming to a sudden halt and shooting him a look of dismay.
Her cousin had originally been contracted to marry Raja? Of course that made sense but it was still the first time that that fact had been mentioned to Ruby. And like a bolt from the blue that little fact cut Ruby to the bone. Just at that moment it was a deeply unwelcome reminder that there was nothing personal, private or indeed special about her relationship with the future king of Najar and Ashur, for Raja had been equally willing, it seemed, to marry her cousin. Fate had simply served Ruby up in her cousin’s stead. But how had Raja really felt about that sudden exchange of brides? Had he been attached to her royal cousin, Princess Bariah? A sliver like a shard of ice sliced through Ruby, who was affronted and hurt by the idea that she might well have been a second-best choice on her husband’s terms. No doubt he would have been equally willing to share a bed with her cousin. How could she have been foolish enough to allow such intimacy without good reason? And how could desire alone ever be sufficient justification?
As she stepped through a door a little dog barked wildly and hurled itself at her legs. Smiling happily, Ruby got down on her knees to pet Hermione, who gave her a frantic squirming welcome before