Desert Sheikhs Collection: Part 2. Susan Mallery
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only things Jasmine had in the world were her determination and a soul-deep love that had never died, but she couldn’t tell Tariq that. His pity would be far worse than his anger. She’d chosen him and completely forsaken everything else. But was it too late?
“We are approaching Zulheina, if you wish to look.”
Grateful for a chance to escape the distressing memories, she pressed a button by her elbow and the window rolled down. Warm air floated in, caressing her cold cheeks. “Oh, my,” she whispered, distracted from her emotional agony.
Zulheina was a city of legend. Very few foreigners were ever allowed into the inner sanctum of Zulheil. Business was usually carried out in the larger town of Abraz, in the north. She could see why the people of Zulheil guarded this place with such zeal. It was utterly magnificent.
Fragile-seeming minarets reached for the heavens, illusions that touched the indigo-blue sky. The single river that ran through Zulheil, and eventually fed out into the sea, passed by in a foaming rush. The white marble of the nearest buildings reflected its tumbling, crystalline beauty.
“It’s like something out of a fairy tale.” She was fascinated by the way the water flowed under them as they drove over the bridge and entered the city proper.
“It is now your home.” Tariq’s words were a command.
Strange and wondrous smells drifted to her on the warm breeze. Sounds followed, then the vibrant living colors of the people as the limousine passed through a busy marketplace.
Hard male fingers encircled the soft flesh of her upper arm. Startled, she faced Tariq. His green eyes were hooded, hiding his emotions from her. “I said that it is now your home. You have nothing to say to that?”
Home, Jasmine thought, a sense of wonder infusing her. She’d never had a real home. Her smile was luminous. “I think that it will be no hardship to call this place home.” She thought the panther opposite her relaxed a little. In the next moment, she saw something out of the corner of her eye that made her gasp. “I don’t believe it. It can’t be true.” Ignoring the firm but strangely gentle grip on her arm, she stretched her neck to peer out the window.
Rising in front of her was the most fragile-looking building she’d ever seen. It seemed to be formed out of mist and raindrops, the artistry in the carving magnificent beyond imagining. The crystal-white stone of the building seemed to glow with a pale rose luminescence that had her transfixed.
She turned to Tariq, wide-eyed, forgetting his anger in her amazement. “I could swear that building is made of Zulheil Rose.”
Though Zulheil was a tiny desert sheikdom, enclosed on three sides by bigger powers, and on the fourth by the sea, it was a rich land, producing not just oil, but a beautiful, precious stone called Zulheil Rose. The striking, clear crystal with the hidden fire inside was the rarest gem on the planet, found only in Tariq’s land.
“If your eyes get any bigger, my Jasmine, they’ll rival the sky,” Tariq teased.
Jasmine forgot the stunning building the moment she heard the quiet humor in his tone. Tariq had apparently decided to put aside his anger for the moment.
“That is your new home.”
“What?” She lost any composure she might’ve attained.
He eyed her flushed features with amused interest. “The royal palace is indeed made of Zulheil Rose. Now you see why we do not let many foreigners into our city.”
“Good grief.” Earnestly, she leaned forward, unconsciously putting her palms on his thighs for balance. “I know the crystal is harder than diamonds and impenetrable, but don’t your people, um, get tempted to chip off pieces?”
His voice was rough when he answered, “The people of Zulheil are happy and well cared for. They are not tempted to lose their place in this society for money.
“And the palace is considered sacred. It was carved where it stands by the one who founded Zulheil. Never in the history of our land has anyone discovered another such concentration of the crystal. It’s believed that as long as the palace stands, Zulheil will prosper.”
Hard male muscles flexed under her fingers. Jasmine jerked up her head. Blood rushed through her veins to stain her cheeks bright red. Flustered, she removed her hands and scrambled back into her seat.
“That, Mina,” Tariq said, as they came to a stop in the inner courtyard of the palace, “is something you’re permitted to do at will.”
Hot with a combination of embarrassment and desire, she muttered, “What?”
“Touch me.”
She sucked in her breath. It was clear that while Tariq had been prepared to wait for intimacy when she’d been eighteen, he was no longer so patient.
They stepped out into the heart of the palace complex—a lush garden protected from the outside by curving walls of Zulheil Rose. From where she stood, Jasmine could see a pomegranate tree heavy with fruit in one corner of the garden. A fig tree dominated the other. Bright, luxuriant and glossy flowers spread like a carpet in either direction.
“It’s like a page of the Arabian Nights come to life.” Any second now she expected a peacock to come strutting out.
“These gardens are opened every Friday to my people. At that time I meet with those who would talk with me.”
Jasmine frowned. “Just like that?”
Beside her, Tariq tightened his clasp on her hand, his big body shifting to dominate her field of vision. “You do not approve of my meeting with my people?” The bright sunlight made his hair glitter like black diamonds.
“Not that. From what I’ve read, your people adore you.” Pausing, she turned her head to avoid his penetrating gaze. “I was thinking about your safety.”
“Would you miss me, my Jasmine, if I was gone?” The question escaped Tariq’s iron control, betraying emotions he refused to acknowledge.
“What a thing to ask! Of course I’d miss you.”
Yet she’d walked away from him without a backward look, while he’d bled from the heart. “It has always been done this way in my land. Zulheil is small but prosperous. It will only stay that way if the people are content. None would hurt me because they know I will listen to their concerns.”
“What about outsiders?” Her hand clenched around his.
He was unable to restrain his smile, seeing in her intent expression echoes of the bright young girl who’d claimed his soul. “The minute a foreigner enters our borders, we know.”
“Your driver tried to convince me this was a taxi.” Her gentle laughter was as light as the desert dawn.
At the happy sound, something deep inside Tariq was tempted to awaken. He had ached for her for so long. Ruthlessly, he crushed the urge. This time, he would not give Jasmine either his trust or his heart. Not when the scars from the hurt she’d inflicted in the past had yet to heal.
“Mazeel is a good driver, but not the best of actors.” He looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Your Highness.” A familiar pair of brown eyes regarded him with barely veiled disapproval. Tariq wasn’t worried. Hiraz might let him see his anger, but his loyalty would keep him silent on what mattered.
“You remember Hiraz.” He nodded at his chief advisor and closest friend, allowing the woman in his arms to turn.
“Of course. It’s nice to see you again, Hiraz.”
Hiraz bowed, his manner stiff and formal. “Madam.”
“Please, call me Jasmine.”
Under Tariq’s hand, her back felt incredibly fragile. He didn’t fight the surge of fierce protectiveness that thundered through him. However angry he was with her, Mina was his to protect.