The Desert Princes. Jackie Braun
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been full of tears. ‘Come here…’ He put a sheltering arm around her. She was so warm and so vulnerable, and he could only imagine how humiliating she must be finding this.
He dipped his head with the intention of kissing her once more, chastely on the cheek. However painful that would be for both of them, he meant it to be a goodbye to that side of things.
And he thought he knew her?
She ripped his howlis from his head with surprising force, and, twining her fingers in his hair, she dragged him close.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded in surprise.
‘I think you know,’ she said steadily.
He could pull away at any time, but he wanted to make her see sense first. ‘Casey, don’t be silly—’ But he would never hurt her and she held on.
One of his hands found its way to the hollow at the base of her spine, where she felt so fragile. A sullen wind chose that moment to whip their faces, and as concern overrode caution he drew her beneath his robe so she could share his warmth.
In that moment he was lost. The erotic world he had been resisting claimed him. The feel of Casey’s body against his, the thunder of her heart and the whisper of her breath—he was kissing her, and not at all chastely.
As he kissed her, he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. It was a promise from him to keep her safe. It was a promise she understood, and when she looked at him with trust in her eyes their positions were reversed, and he was hers to do with as she liked.
They kissed and caressed in front of the dwindling fire in a way he hadn’t done since adolescence, until— ‘Have I made you cry?’ He frowned, tasting her tears.
‘I blame you,’ she said, laughing and crying softly at the same time.
‘Explain,’ he insisted. His lips were tugging with amusement as he brought her round to face him.
‘Don’t laugh at me, Raffa.’ She touched his lips and he was instantly serious. ‘No one has ever made me confront my fears before.’
‘And you’re still frightened?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted.
‘You have always thought lovemaking must be rough, painful and fast, with all the pleasure on the man’s side?’ he suggested.
She couldn’t believe she was talking about something like this with Raffa. This was something she hadn’t even been able to discuss with her own parents—and they were experts in the field.
‘You think a man must take absolute control and you are expected to lie beneath him and endure whatever happens as best you can?’
‘How do you know that?’ Then she smiled, remembering how Raffa had teased her. ‘Years of experience?’ she said, pretending disapproval, but then she laughed, and they both clung to that shred of humour.
‘Did you think I was going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off to the desert as my captive virgin?’ Raffa suggested. Thumbing his jaw, he added thoughtfully, ‘That’s not a bad idea, actually…’
‘Raffa,’ she scolded, by now completely relaxed.
‘Maybe you would have preferred that?’ he said, holding her in a loose embrace in front of him. ‘And there’s still time,’ he warned, pretending to be fierce.
‘But I trust you,’ she said.
‘I should hope so.’
‘I still have hang-ups.’
‘Only because you don’t know the rules.’
‘What rules?’
‘Rule number one: no hang-ups allowed in the desert.’
If only it were that simple, Casey thought, hugging herself. She had just made a spectacle of herself in front of Raffa in the most acutely embarrassing way. He had talked her round and reassured her, but she was still aroused. She had never been so aroused. Her nipples were on fire and she was throbbing with need between her legs, where she felt swollen and moist. She had never wanted sex more and never been more certain that she wouldn’t know what to do if they made love—except that she would make a complete and utter hash of it.
‘Dreaming again. Or just worrying?’ Raffa prompted.
‘I’d be useless at it,’ she blurted out.
‘Useless at what?’
‘Sex.’
He made a low, confident masculine sound. ‘But I’m not…’ Touching her chin, he made her look at him.
‘This isn’t funny, Raffa.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ he agreed, turning serious. ‘You have parents who advise other people with sexual problems, and for some reason you seem to think you have all those same problems yourself.’
‘I know I have,’ she interrupted.
‘How do you know?’
‘I can get so far down the road and then I can’t go any further. I’ve read the books, so I know—’
‘You don’t know anything,’ he interrupted. ‘How can you know anything when you’re still a virgin? You’ve read too many books, Casey, and life has to be experienced outside of the covers of a book. Books are instructive and interesting— and surprising, sometimes—but they can never take the place of living in the moment and all that that entails: feeling, sharing, caring, cherishing, laughing, crying.’
‘Loving?’ She stared at him steadily until she read the answer in his eyes.
‘Loving in the moment? Yes, of course.’
That was Casey’s cue to move away from him. He knew it was a lousy answer, but he had nothing to offer her long-term, and he wouldn’t pretend. Casey was special—very special. But she made him feel like the worst type of man as she hugged her knees, burying her face again. It was as if all the good that had been done over the past few days had been wasted.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No—I’m sorry.’ She cut across him, lifting her head. There were no tears now, just an expression of resignation, which he found almost worse. ‘I shouldn’t have pressed you like this. I’ve got no right.’ She threw her hands up in mock despair. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking.’
Everything she was entitled to think—that he had brought her here to make love to her. It was a perfectly reasonable supposition. He just wished Casey didn’t believe her parents’ books held the answer to everything, or that fairytales could sometimes come true.
Picking up the howlis from his neck, he readjusted it until only his eyes were showing. ‘I’m not a very romantic Sheikh, am I?’
‘Oh, I don’t know…’ She stared with him into the vastness of the desert. ‘You brought me here.’
The wry tone in her voice was so much better to hear than Casey’s awkwardness and uncertainty. ‘Should I try harder?’ he suggested dryly.
‘You can try…’
‘Your eyes are like stars,’ he intoned solemnly. ‘Will that do?’
‘I suppose it will have to.’
She was still smiling when a cloud scudded across the moon, plunging them into darkness. Sensing her unease, he reached for her. ‘Don’t tell me you’re frightened of the dark as well?’
When the cloud rolled away she was staring up at him. As he met her gaze he wondered if this was the most intimate moment he had ever shared with anyone. And then she whispered, ‘Make love to me, Raffa…’