The Royal House of Karedes: The Desert Throne. Annie West
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him of everything he owned. I sent him into exile.”
A small sound escaped her lips. A rush, like a shuddering sigh. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Did you know he blackmailed me?”
“What?”
“On my journey back to the city, when I still had a fever, he threatened to tell everyone about my miscarriage. He said he’d claim I did it deliberately to rid myself of the baby. He’d say I’d had endless nameless lovers and couldn’t guess the father. He said he would ruin me.” She took a deep breath, forcing her eyes to meet his. “He would do this—unless I took him as my lover.”
Kareef sucked in his breath.
“What?” he exploded.
“He was afraid of you,” she said softly, wiping her eyes hard. “But he wasn’t afraid of me. When I wouldn’t do it, he carried through with his threat. Within days, the scandal cost my father his job at the palace. It gave his enemies the weapon they needed. If my father couldn’t control his own family, they said, how could he advise the king? So everything that happened, it’s my fault, you see.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “All my fault.”
She looked back at Kareef.
And almost didn’t recognize him.
Rage such as she’d never seen before was on his face. Rage that frightened her.
“I will kill him,” he ground out. Clenching his hands, he rose to his feet. “Wherever that man is hiding in the world, I will make him feel such pain as he cannot imagine—”
“No,” she gasped, grabbing his hand. “Please. It’s all over.” She pressed his hand against her forehead, closing her eyes. “Please, I just want to forget.”
His hand tightened, then relaxed. Slowly, he sank beside her. Kneeling, he took both her hands in his own.
“By the time I found out you were in exile…it was too late to do more than send money to New York.” His voice was ragged. “But every day since then, I’ve tried to find absolution.” He turned away. “But I know now I will never find that, no matter how hard I try.”
“Kareef,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. It was…It was…” Putting her hand on his shoulder, she stared at the smooth rock wall of the cave and the truth dawned on her. “It was an accident.”
His back slowly straightened. “What did you say?”
“An accident.” She looked at him, and it was as if the sun had broken through dark clouds, bringing light, bringing peace. Tears fell down her cheeks as she breathed, “I was barely pregnant. We didn’t know. The accident was no one’s fault. No one is to blame. We’ll never forget we almost had a child. But we need to forgive—both of us. It wasn’t your fault.”
His voice was low and thick with grief as he said, “I wish I could believe that.” He looked down at her hands. “You’re shivering.”
She was, but not with cold.
Rising to his feet, he crossed the cave. Digging through the horse’s pack, he found a red woven blanket and unfolded it near the fire. Jasmine watched his face in the flickering shadows, her heart aching.
All these years, she thought he’d blamed her—and he’d thought the same.
For her, it had been thirteen years of exile.
For him, it had been a living death.
“Here,” he said in a low voice. “You can rest here, where it is warm.” He turned away. “I will stay awake and keep watch until the storm is over.”
Trembling, Jasmine rose to her feet. She slowly walked toward him. Reaching up, she placed a hand on his cheek and forced him to look at her.
“It was an accident, Kareef,” she said, looking straight into his eyes. “You were not to blame!”
He gave a hoarse intake of breath. “Is it possible you could forgive me?” he whispered, searching her gaze. His blue eyes were deep and endless as the sea.
She stroked his cheek with her hand. Tears filled her eyes. “How could I blame you? You were…have always been—” my only love, her voice choked “—my dearest friend.”
She heard his ragged breath, felt the pounding of his heart against hers. His body was hot. His skin smelled of musk and sun and sand.
He looked down at her, and his gaze suddenly burned through her, stretching every nerve from her fingertips to her toes in taut anticipation as she heard the howl of the darkness outside. “And you are mine.”
Lowering his head, he kissed her.
Hidden in this cave, hidden far from the outside world and protected from the outside storm, he kissed her as if nothing and no one else existed. He pressed her against the smooth red rock wall of the cave, and she kissed him back fervently, her heart on her lips.
He abruptly pulled away from her. She blinked at him in the flickering firelight, dazed. His eyes were dark with need. Her lips felt swollen and bruised from the ferocity of his kisses—almost as bruised as her healing heart.
With a growl, he lifted her up into his arms, holding her against his hard chest as if she weighed nothing at all. She stared up at him, breathless, mesmerized by his brutal strength. She could hear the howl of the wind whipping sand outside, hear the whinny of the stallion. The small fire flickered shadowy firelight against the smooth red rock of the cave.
They were safe here. They were warm. They were together.
He lowered her gently to the blanket, then pulled off his white shirt and black pants and shoes. She gazed at his naked body in wonder as he stood before her. The muscles of his tanned body glistened in the twisting firelight.
Kneeling in front of her on the blanket, he slowly pulled off her panties beneath her dress, drawing them down her legs.
Then, with a wicked half smile, he tossed them into the fire.
“What?” she spluttered, staring at the white cotton fabric now burning beside the charred wood. “What did you do that for?”
He lifted a black eyebrow, giving her a dark look that curled her toes. “We needed fuel for the fire,” he whispered.
But a fire was already burning inside Jasmine, burning right through her, consuming her whole. He pulled her down into his lap, pulling her white skirt up to her hips. She was naked against him as he slid his hardness against her, rocking back and forth against her wet core. He leaned up to kiss her.
Hot. Hot. She was burning up, turning to ash and flame.
“Take off my dress,” she whispered. “Take it off.”
“You,” he repeated approvingly, sliding his hands over her breasts as he nipped little kisses up her neck, “are a wanton.”
With a tug, he pulled the white cotton dress up and over her shoulders and threw it down on the earth. She sat in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist. She looked down at their naked intertwined bodies in the firelight. As he started to move against her, the soft sound of her gasps soon matched the cries of the wind outside.
The tension coiled low in her belly as he slid over her. Pleasure built inside her and then, suddenly, he lifted her up and impaled her with a single deep thrust. She gasped at the depth of his penetration.
He hadn’t just filled her body. He filled her soul.
She gripped his shoulders and let the ecstasy build inside her, higher and higher. Even when the euphoria finally ripped her to shreds, exploding her into pieces, she kept her secret hidden inside.
I love you.
I will always love you.
She couldn’t speak the words. She knew they changed nothing.