Royal Affairs: Desert Princes & Defiant Virgins: The Sheikh's Virgin Princess / The Sheikh and the Virgin Secretary / Desert Prince, Defiant Virgin. Sarah Morgan
Читать онлайн книгу.
briefly wondered about the identity of the pilot. He’d been surprised by the loyalty and devotion displayed by the young man. Was he one of her many lovers?
Probably, if her reputation was to be believed.
Not that there had been any communication between them since that first brief greeting.
On the contrary, she’d been sleeping since the plane had taken off.
Deciding that it was time to take back control, Karim took advantage of her unconscious state to make some necessary calls. Blessing modern technology, he removed his hand-held computer from his pocket and sent two urgent e-mails that were both immediately answered. He was just pocketing the device when Alexa’s head flopped sideways onto his shoulder.
Karim froze in shock as she snuggled into him. The top of her head brushed his neck as she automatically searched for the most comfortable position, and his senses were engulfed by the delicious scent of her amazing red-gold hair.
She smelt like an English garden in the middle of summer.
Seriously discomforted by the unexpected familiarity, he lifted a hand, intending to push her back into her own seat, but somehow his fingers became entwined in a lock of her hair. The curl looped itself around his fingers like a silken coil, and he studied the vibrancy of the colour with fascination.
Whatever else had been said about her, it was certainly true that the Princess Alexandra was astonishingly beautiful. She was a woman that any healthy, red-blooded man would find impossible to ignore. And as for how she tasted …
Irritated by the dangerous direction of his thoughts, Karim allowed her hair to slide through his fingers, reminding himself that this journey was all about helping her to review her decision to marry the Sultan. To stray from that path would complicate things in the extreme.
The weight and warmth of her body remained pressed against his shoulder, and, although sleeping snuggled against him was an intimacy he’d never before allowed a woman, Karim found himself strangely reluctant to wake her. He had no desire to travel with a tired, irritable woman, he reasoned, and anyway sleep not induced by the exhaustion of sex held no significance whatsoever.
He forced himself to relax in his seat, grimly determined to ignore the intrusive and disturbing reaction of his body. Occasionally he glanced at her, wondering when she was going to wake up.
She slept as though she was never going to regain consciousness, and at one point he found himself leaning closer, just to check that she was actually breathing.
It was only when the plane finally landed in Zangrar that she stirred, perhaps sensing the sudden stillness of the plane. Her head was still resting on his shoulder and her gaze met his, her face dangerously close.
Karim felt something stir inside him and curved his hand around her cheek, tempted to help himself to another taste of her luscious mouth before continuing with the job in hand. His body throbbed and ached with the memory of that kiss, and he realized with no small degree of irritation that he had been in an almost permanent state of arousal since he had met the princess only a day earlier. Only the most ruthless self-discipline prevented him from sacrificing his principles in favour of immediate sexual gratification. His hand dropped and he drew back, and she did the same, apparently dismayed to find herself so intimately entwined with him.
‘I slept—I’m sorry.’ She sounded astonished. ‘What time is it?’
‘We have just landed in Zangrar.’
‘Landed?’ Her expression confused, she looked out of the window. ‘But that isn’t possible.’
‘Why isn’t it possible?’
‘Because Zangrar is a ten-hour flight.’
‘And you have slept for ten hours.’ And for most of those ten hours she’d been wrapped around him. Trying to calm the vicious throb in his body by moving his thoughts as far from seduction as possible, Karim flexed his shoulders. ‘It was the middle of the night when we left. It is hardly surprising that you were tired.’
She looked shocked. ‘I’ve slept for ten hours?’
‘Without waking.’
‘But I’ve never—’ Without bothering to finish her sentence, she chewed her lip and glanced out of the window. ‘So, if this is Zangrar, then how far is it to the Citadel?’
Karim gave a cynical smile. For single-minded focus, you couldn’t fault her. She’d barely rubbed the sleep from her eyes, but already she could see the flash of gold across the desert. He only wished that half the people he worked with were even a fraction as driven. ‘I’m sure the Sultan will be most flattered by your eagerness to begin married life.’
It was a moment before she replied, and he wondered whether she’d even heard his comment. Then she looked at him, her face blank of expression. ‘I need somewhere to change. I can’t wear this.’
‘This’ was the pair of dark trousers and black jumper that she’d worn to leave the palace, presumably chosen to disguise her identity. Clearly she wanted to change into something more glamorous before she met the Sultan.
‘The Sultan is going to be far more interested in the person than the clothes. In Zangrar we have a tradition,’ he said softly. ‘When a woman marries, she dresses in a very simple gown, and that simplicity is of great significance. It means that she is offering herself to her man, all that she is, unadorned and exposed. It is symbolic of the fact that truth can be concealed, and that the marriage of a man and a woman should be about openness and truth.’
‘Truth?’ Her eyes fixed on his face. ‘You’re suggesting that I’m not being honest?’
‘I’m saying that when a woman gives herself to a man there should be nothing concealed.’
‘And what about when a man gives himself to a woman? How much concealing is allowed then? Or is this honesty onesided?’ Disillusionment rang in her voice, and the expression in her eyes was bleak. ‘You still haven’t answered my question. How far is the Citadel from here?’
‘It’s a four-day drive through the mountains and the desert.’ Omitting to tell her that a helicopter could make the journey in a matter of hours, Karim watched with satisfaction as something close to horror flickered across her beautiful face. ‘Zangrar, as a country, is still comparatively underdeveloped. The terrain is a mixture of sand and rock. When it came to building an international airport, the options were somewhat limited. The fortress city is several days’ drive away from here, across harsh desert.’
‘No!’ Clearly horrified by his announcement, she shook her head vigorously and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I studied a map. It looked like a short drive.’
‘Distances in the desert are deceptive.’
‘I can’t do a four-day journey—the desert isn’t safe.’
No, it certainly wasn’t.
More than content with her reaction, Karim relaxed in his seat. As he’d intended, the princess was clearly afraid of the prospect of a journey through the desert. All he needed to do now was ensure that she spent long enough in those surroundings to convince her that life in Zangrar was not going to be to her taste. Once she was exposed to those elements of desert life guaranteed to make a delicately brought-up princess run hard and fast in the direction of the nearest shopping mall, his mission would be virtually complete.
Her eyes were still fixed on his face. ‘We have to drive? There is no other way?’
‘Four-wheel drive is best.’ Pausing, he decided that a little elaboration could only help his cause. ‘Camels are equally effective, but obviously not so speedy, and I know that you are desperate to reach the Sultan as fast as possible.’
Apparently missing the irony in his tone, she sank back onto the seat, her breathing rapid as she struggled to control her anxiety.
Karim gave a