Lord of the Abyss & Desert Warrior (30 page)

“I am your husband. You will not lie. Answer me.” He thrust his hands through the fiery silk. The last time she’d hidden her thoughts from him, she’d been convincing herself to walk away. It had almost destroyed him. He didn’t think he would survive if she ran from him a second time.

“We’ll be late,” she protested.

Time was no longer important. “They will wait.” His
voice was made rough by his knowledge of his vulnerability to her.

“This isn’t the place.” She put her hands on his chest, as if to push him away.

“You
will
answer me.”

The small hands on his chest curled into fists. “You are so arrogant, sometimes I want to scream!”

The explosion almost made him want to smile. Mina’s temper delighted him. Only the knowledge that she was hiding something from him curbed the urge. His mother had hidden her illness and it had cost him his chance to say goodbye…and maybe more. Mina’s secret could cost him his wife. “I am simply willing to go after what I want.”

“So am I.” Her voice was fierce. “I came to you.”

“And you will stay.” He would not give her a choice. “Is this primitive land starting to lose its charms?”

She rolled her eyes, impertinent in her anger. “No, but you’re driving me crazy with your questions.”

“Answer me and I will ask no more.” His logical response made her grit her teeth. Those magnificent eyes flashed lightning at him.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Now.”
He kept her in place with his hands in her hair, clenching thick handfuls of the luminous strands.

She looked away from him. Her body was poised for flight but there was nowhere for her to go. In its blinding starkness, his land was his greatest ally. As he watched, the realization of her weakness dawned on her.

“You’re taking advantage of your strength.” Her hunted expression accused him.

“I will use every advantage I have.” He would not, could not, lose her. She was as vital to him as breathing.

For a second, their eyes met. Silence hung between them, his implacable words almost visible in the air.

“What does it matter what I was thinking?” He knew she was clutching at anything that might offer a reprieve. The hint of victory sharpened his hunter’s instincts.

“You belong to me, Mina.” This time she’d have no secrets from him. Perhaps, he acknowledged, her youth had made her vulnerable to the pressures she’d been put under four years ago. But if he’d known of those pressures, he would have been ready to fight for her and might not have had his heart ripped to pieces.

Her sigh signaled defeat. “I was thinking of the past.”

Some of the chill that had retreated under the fire of their heated conversation returned with a vengeance. “Why do you think of such things?” The past held only pain and betrayal.

“I can’t help it. Not when it stands between us.” Her expression was earnest, her words passionate.

As Jasmine had feared, the mention of the past blighted the incipient joy of the day. Tariq’s smile was only a memory now, this hard-visaged desert warrior the reality. He didn’t deny her statement and the silence grew until it pressed heavily upon her. Wary of the stranger he’d become, she lay her hand on his left biceps. The muscle was inflexible.

“Four years, Tariq.” Her emotions were naked in her voice. “Four years we were apart, and you refuse to share even a crumb of your life during that time.”

His expression grew even darker. “What would you know?”

The question stunned her. She’d been expecting a harsh reprimand or perhaps cold dismissal. For a moment, shock kept her silent, but then words tumbled out of her. “Anything! Everything! Not knowing about those years is like a hole inside me, a part where you’re missing.”

“You made that choice.”

“But now I’ve made another choice!”

The infinitesimal turning away of his face was his only response.

“Please,” she begged.

He released her. Startled, she swayed before regaining her balance. Stepping back, he regarded her with eyes darkened to the color of ancient greenstone. “I was the subject of an assassination attempt by a terrorist organization on my way back from New Zealand.”

“No! Did they…?”

He shook his head in a sharp negative as an answer to the question she couldn’t bring herself to ask. “They had no chance.” When he returned to his position by the tree, her sense of isolation almost overwhelmed Jasmine.

“Are they still active?”

“No, they were supported by their government, which was overthrown two years ago. The new government is friendly and will sponsor no more such attempts.”

She thought that he was trying to soothe her obvious pain. That gave her the courage to continue, even though the ice in his voice was an obvious command to withdraw. She almost expected to see the air fog with her breath.

“But even one!”

That was when he delivered a blow so staggering that
he might as well have backhanded her. “They thought me weak and an easy target, because a woman had brought me to my knees.”

Jasmine wanted to scream in agony. To have almost lost him…and to finally comprehend that her mission would be a thousand times more difficult than she’d believed. Maybe even impossible. The night before, she’d begun to understand the depths to which her husband’s honor and pride were intertwined with his private nature. Today, it was painfully clear that Tariq’s pride had been savaged by the reason behind the attempt. His strength as a leader, as a warrior, had been questioned because he’d allowed himself to feel. He would not forgive the woman who had been the cause of the insult.

A call from one of the guides interrupted the heavy silence. Tariq replied without shifting his gaze from her, his eyes dark, impenetrable. The syllables sounded brusque and guttural, as if he, too, were keeping strong emotions in check.

“We must go.”

She nodded, numb from shock. Unable to trust herself not to break down, she followed him to the main area. He put food in her hands, and when she didn’t move to feed herself, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Eat, Mina, or I will put you in my lap and feed you.”

She believed him. As quickly as possible, she forced the food down. She had her pride, too.

T
ARIQ CAREFULLY PICKED UP
Jasmine and placed her on the camel, once she’d bolted down the meal. He could see her fighting the urge to bring up the food, but he was ruthless in his protectiveness. She would need her
strength to survive the desert journey. He would not let her mistreat herself.

When he mounted behind her, he made sure not to jostle her. She’d been silent since his revelation about the assassination attempt. He didn’t like her stillness. His Mina was fire, life, joy. Yet he knew his harshness had caused her withdrawal. He had spoken to his wife in anger, and now that it had passed, he did not know how to bring her back to him.

“Hold on,” he said, as the camel stood up, even though there was no need. His arm was a band around her waist. He would never let her fall, never let her be hurt.

She clutched at his arm, but let go the minute the camel was up. Her white headgear gave her a hiding place and frustrated him. He needed her to talk to him. The discovery made him scowl. A sheik didn’t need anyone. A man would be a fool to need a woman who’d proved incapable of loyalty. He’d merely become used to her presence and voice over the past day. It was nothing more than that.

“Will you sulk all day?” He knew he was being unfair, but was unable to stop himself. He wanted her to fight back, wanted her to feel as much as he did, even if it was only anger.

“I’m not sulking.” Her response held a hint of her customary fire.

Something he didn’t want to acknowledge inside him eased at her response. She hadn’t been beaten or broken. “It’s better that you know the truth.”

“That you’ll never again allow me close to your heart?”

Her blunt question threatened to unsettle him. “Yes. I will not be such an easy target a second time.”

“Target?” It was a husky whisper. “This isn’t war.”

His mouth twisted. “It’s worse.” After her rejection, he’d barely been able to function. He had loved her more than he loved the endless deserts of his homeland, but it had been the desert wilderness that had helped him heal the wounds she’d inflicted.

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

Her words calmed him and made him gentle in his response. “You belong to me now, my Jasmine. There’s no reason for us to fight. This is forever.” He would not trust her with his heart again, but neither would he let her go.

Forever. Jasmine lay her head against Tariq’s chest and swallowed her tears. At one time she would’ve crawled on her hands and knees across broken glass for the promise of forever with Tariq. Now that wasn’t enough. Forever with a Tariq who didn’t love her and would never love her wasn’t enough.

The obstacles in her path had grown to almost insurmountable proportions. Convincing Tariq of her loyalty would not be enough. He might eventually forgive her for not fighting for their love against her family, but she doubted it would be easy. But would he ever forgive the second staggering blow to his warrior’s pride?

And what if she caused a third, with the secret that had broken a child’s heart?

Panic threatened to choke her. No! No one would know about her illegitimacy! No one would shame her husband. Only her family knew, and they valued their position in society too much to let the truth slip out.

You think your prince would marry a girl who can’t even name her father? Keep dreaming, little sister.

Four years ago, Sarah had picked at her most vulnerable spot and then kicked hard. Jasmine still hadn’t recovered from the blow, because she knew her sister was right. How could Tariq accept her, much less love her, if even her adoptive parents hadn’t been able to?

He wouldn’t believe that she’d been so overwhelmed by the marriage ceremony, she’d forgotten the one vital fact that made her the wrong choice to be his wife. As a girl of eighteen, she’d planned to tell him…until Sarah had bluntly thrown the consequences in her face. Believing her sister, Jasmine had kept her hurtful secret, and her family had used it to batter her down when they’d asked her to choose.

“You will speak to me.” The rough order jerked her out of her maudlin thoughts. He liked her speaking to him, did he? Yesterday, he’d teased her that she chattered like a magpie.

Allowing a smile to escape, she let hope fill her heart about her ability to inspire love in this complex man. So the fight would be harder. So what? She’d almost died living apart from him. As long as there was the slightest hope, as long as her panther liked to talk to her, as long as he touched her body like he was starving for her, she’d persevere.

Maybe one day he’d trust her enough, love her enough, to accept all of her. Until then, she’d keep the secret she desperately needed to share, the anguish she needed to fight with his love, deep within her. And she’d make up for that one lie by fighting for other truths, however much it hurt.

“Tell me.” Her tone was quiet but determined.

“What?”

“Tell me exactly what they tried to do.”

“Mina.” Tariq’s annoyance was clear. “I have said that the past is the past. If you do not wish to fight, we will not speak of this.” His hard body moved behind her as he made an adjustment to the reins held negligently in his left hand.

“And I’m supposed to obey your decree without question?” She was unable to let such an arrogant presumption pass.

He was silent for a long moment. “No one challenges the sheik when he has spoken.”

“You’re my husband.”

“Yet you don’t act as a submissive wife should.”

His tone was so neutral that she almost missed the wry undertone. He was teasing her, no longer cold, as he’d been after the revelation in the oasis. Jasmine decided to continue her quest for the truth, despite his implied forgiveness for the pain she’d reawakened that morning. If she let it go now, Tariq would always refuse to discuss the past. An incredibly strong man, he needed a woman who would challenge him when required, not buckle under his demands.

“If you wanted submission, you should’ve gotten a pet.” She didn’t add that a submissive wife would bore him out of his aristocratic skull within a week.

His arms tightened around her. “No, Mina, I need no pet. Not when I have you to pet.”

The wordplay made her blush. “You speak English just fine when you put your mind to it,” she noted. “But I’m not going to be distracted.”

“No?” Under her breast, his arm suddenly came to life. Muscle flowed and shifted, caressing her without any visible movement.

“No.” Her voice was firm, though desire crackled through her like white lightning.

He slid his hand down to press against her stomach. Then, without warning, he said, “We stopped in Bahrain on our return, for diplomatic reasons. On the way from the airport, my car was separated from the cavalcade by two large trucks.”

“Hiraz?”

“I was not good company at that time.” Tariq’s quiet response drove another nail into the bruised flesh of her heart. “Hiraz was riding in the foremost car with two guards. Another two were in the following car.”

“You were alone.” Instinctively, her hands left the pommel and pressed over his.

“I am never alone, Mina.” His words were as close to a complaint as she’d ever heard. Even a sheik, she understood, needed privacy. A man like Tariq would need it more than most. “My driver is always a trained guard.”

“What happened next?” She was caught in the destructive grip of a past that could have physically stolen Tariq from her. As it was, the emotional damage caused by the attack was profound.

He leaned down and moved her headgear aside so he could whisper into her ear. The intimate gesture made her glad that they were riding at the back of the group.

“We took care of them.” His masculine scent surrounded her, his warmth an experience she didn’t want to escape.

“That’s all you’re going to say?” she protested, dis
turbed by the way he seemed to be withdrawing once again.

“There isn’t much else. They were religious zealots from a troubled nation who sought to kill me with their bare hands. I disabled three, my driver two.” He nuzzled her neck, a gesture so achingly familiar that tears threatened. The tone of his voice belonged to an exasperated man tired of a topic, rather than one bent on rebuilding an impenetrable wall.