Lord of the Abyss & Desert Warrior (37 page)

“At least it’s not my eyes.”

“Eyes? What…I can’t believe it. You made a joke?” She gave a theatrical gasp that turned into a cry of surprise when he dropped her onto the bed. “Be still my heart.”

Tactile pleasure shimmered over her when he lowered his body full-length over hers. He started to stroke her with his talented hands. “Is this supposed to be a distraction?” she demanded.

“Would it be successful as one?”

“Oh, yes,” she sighed. “But tell me the truth, please?”

“Persistent little creature,” he complained, but his tone was affectionate. His eyes were heavy with sensual promise when he looked at her. “Today is the festival…”

Jasmine’s giggles caught her completely by surprise. Tariq tried to frown her into submission. When that didn’t work, he kissed her until she was boneless.

“As I was saying, it is the festival of the virgins.” He kissed the side of her neck. “If you’d arrived a few weeks later, you could have joined it. No, that’s a lie. You would not have remained a virgin long enough. I almost took you in the car as it was.”

“Stop that,” she ordered.

“What?”

“Making me crazy.”

“I like making you crazy.” Satisfaction simmered in those green depths when she shivered under his stroking. His lips curved into a grin.

Jasmine didn’t know what to do with him in this mood. In the end, she decided that the safest option was to ignore the gleam in his eye and bask in his attention.

“So tell me.” She traced a design over his chest with her fingertip, enjoying touching him through the fine linen. Tariq had never once curtailed her sensual explorations after she’d shown him just how much she adored his body.

“It’s a day when female virgins of a certain age make a pilgrimage to a sacred place.”

“Where?”

He looked chagrined at her question. “No man knows.”

Her interest was piqued. “Really?” At his nod she asked, “How old is this festival?”

“As old as Zulheil.”

“And why couldn’t I go outside?”

Tariq pressed his forehead to hers and spoke against her mouth. “If you would let me finish, Mina, I will tell you.”

Jasmine pursed her lips and slanted him an encourag
ing look. He continued to speak against her mouth, lips on lips, sorely tempting her to open up.

“I do not know what they do and that is probably just as well. No man is allowed on the streets at the time.”

Jasmine frowned, the question stuck at the back of her throat. Tariq read her mind.

“Patience, little hellcat. There is no danger because the married women go with them, including the police-women.”

She couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “Policewomen? Zulheil allows its women such occupations?” Once more, the way the people of Zulheil guarded their privacy so zealously left her feeling at a loss. She had so much to learn. And a lifetime in which to learn it, she reminded herself, ignoring the dart of fear that threatened to ruin the moment. Tariq would trust her again and wouldn’t denounce her when he discovered her illegitimacy. Maybe, her heart whispered, if she wanted his trust, she should begin by giving him hers?

“I have told you our women are cherished. We protect but do not cage.” He ran his tongue over the line of her lips in a teasing stroke. The urge to surrender almost overcame her.

“Why couldn’t I go then?”

“Because—” Tariq took advantage of her open mouth to sip from her lips “—aside from the virgins, only married women who have borne children or been married for five years can do so.” He spread his fingers over her stomach in an unmistakable message. “When you have borne my child, then you may go.”

Jasmine swallowed. The thought of bearing Tariq’s child was a dream she hadn’t dared consider. And still
couldn’t, so long as she hid the truth of her own birth. She had to tell him. But not now, not when he sounded as if he cared for her. “How do you stop foreigners from disturbing the pilgrimage?”

“Zulheil annually closes its borders the week prior to this journey. Those already inside have visas that expire that same week. Recalcitrant visitors are escorted out.”

“You closed your borders after your parents passed away, didn’t you?” She’d spoken without thinking, but as soon as the words were out, she braced herself. Tariq had remained staunch in his refusal to talk about his loss.

He kissed her. It was a gentle kiss full of warmth, but without overt sexual overtones. Jasmine returned the caress, though she didn’t understand what was happening.

“Yes,” he whispered into her mouth. “For two months, Zulheil was closed to foreigners. Our people needed to come to terms with the grief and I needed time to heal the fractures.”

“Two months? Don’t you mean one?” Jasmine stroked his cheek. She wanted to cry with joy. He was trusting her with something important, something that had hurt him to the core. “I came one month afterward, remember?”

T
ARIQ’S LIPS CURVED IN A
smile. “You were granted a very special visa.”

She stopped breathing. “You knew. You knew all along that I was coming.”

He shrugged. “I am the Sheik of Zulheil. I knew. Why did you come, then?”

It was the one question that he hadn’t asked before, and the one that she couldn’t answer without giving away almost everything. Jasmine stroked her fingers into his hair and knew she’d tell him the truth. Four years ago she’d been a coward and it had cost her his love. Perhaps she could win it back with bravery. There would be no more hiding the strongest emotion in her heart because she was afraid of being rejected.

“I came because I heard about your loss and I thought that maybe you might need me.” Tariq’s body tensed against hers. She understood his silent rejection of the thought of needing her. He wasn’t ready to make himself that vulnerable. Perhaps he never would be, his pride having been savaged too badly the first time. She swallowed the feelings of hopelessness and continued. “But more than that, I needed
you.
I’d already decided to come long before. I’d laid the groundwork.”

“Why, Mina?” His eyes were dark and impenetrable. His fingers dug into the soft skin of her upper arms hard
enough to leave bruises, but she was heartened. If he cared enough to lose control over his strength, then she had to have a chance.

She felt tears rise in her eyes. “Because I couldn’t live without you anymore. I just couldn’t bear it. I woke up each day thinking of you and fell asleep with your name on my lips. I love you so much, Tariq, you can’t even imagine.”

He didn’t answer in words. His kiss was tender and almost forgiving. She didn’t force the issue. It would take time to heal the wounds of the past, but she hoped her bravery would buy her that time.

Tariq rolled onto his back and fitted her to his side. “I miss them.”

Jasmine took a deep breath and just let him speak.

“I was brought up with knowledge of the responsibilities that awaited me, but my parents made sure I had a childhood and a relatively free young adulthood.” He cuddled her closer, as if needing her warmth. “I traveled and I learned. I was given a chance to grow into a man without being shaped by my role. For that, I’ll always be in debt to my parents. Any child of ours will have the same chance.”

“They sound like they were wonderful people,” she dared to murmur, though not wanting to break this fragile rapport.

“They were.” He paused, as if debating whether to continue. His next words shocked her to the core. “My mother was dying and she did not tell me.”

Jasmine sucked in a breath. “Dying?”

“Cancer.” His voice was harsh. “They were on their way back from a treatment when the crash occurred.”

Unable to imagine the depth of his suffering, she blinked back tears and asked, “Do you blame her for their deaths?”

He shook his head. “I blame her for not trusting me, for stealing my chance to try to help her. And to say goodbye.”

“She was protecting her son.” Jasmine understood his mother’s actions instinctively, but she could also understand her warrior’s pain. His mother’s secrecy had rendered him helpless and he would hate that feeling. “It wasn’t about trust. It was about a mother’s love.”

“I have almost come to accept that, but part of me remains angry with her for making the choice for me. Perhaps there was something I could have done. Now I will never know.” His voice was haunted. “When they died, I was ready to assume my duties, but not to lose my parents. I felt adrift, lost emotionally. You have to understand, I was an only child, and despite close friendships, no one except my parents understood the demands of our position in this land.

“We are the rulers and guardians of our people. It’s an honor and the gravest of responsibilities. For my people I had to be strong, but I felt as if I was enclosed in a cave of ice, unable to feel, until…”

“Until?” She held her breath, waiting for words that she knew might never come, but couldn’t help hoping for.

“Nothing.” Quick as lightning, he changed their positions, so that she was pressed under him.

She didn’t protest. He’d given her far more than she’d expected. His mother’s secret explained so much. It hurt Jasmine to think what damage it would have done to the proud and loyal man she’d married, to know that
his mother had not trusted him with the truth of her health. Her reasons had been born out of love, but they’d wounded her son. Jasmine bit her lip, unable to escape the inevitable conclusion. What would her cowardice in keeping her secret cost him?

It was her last thought before Tariq pulled her into the heat of his passion.

T
ARIQ HELD
M
INA IN HIS ARMS
after their loving, deeply affected by her confession of need. The raw honesty of it was undeniable, but it was hard to trust her completely. While he’d begun to let down his shields, his wife kept secrets that turned her blue eyes dark without warning. Though he’d vowed to have nothing but honesty between them, he wouldn’t beg her for this secret. He wouldn’t humble his pride for her. Not again. Never again.

He’d thought that she’d fallen asleep, but suddenly, she spoke, “I…have to tell you something.”

Keeping his sudden tension from showing in his body was a struggle. He merely moved aside the hair covering her face from him. “Yes?”

She kept her eyes on the bedspread, her fingers playing with the embroidered swirls. “When we first met…I was so frightened of losing you. That’s why I never told you.”

“What?” He felt a mixture of hope and despair. Was she going to try and give him more excuses? He’d begun to believe that she’d matured, become someone he could trust, but that woman wouldn’t try to ease her way with excuses.

“Promise me something first?” she asked.

It was the naked vulnerability of her voice that made
his response gentle. “What would you have of me, Mina?”

“Don’t hate me for this.” Her tone was ragged, as if she no longer had any protective walls, and suddenly, he knew that there were going to be no excuses from this woman.

Hate her? Though he’d walked close to the line, he’d never hated Mina and couldn’t imagine doing so. “On my word of honor as your husband.” He gathered her closer, tenderness for her overwhelming him. He did not like to see her hurting.

On the sheets, her graceful hand clenched into a fist so tight that cream turned to white and tendons stood out across her wrist. “I’m illegitimate.”

She’d given him no warning, no sign of the strength of her secret. “Illegitimate?” In his arms, she shivered. He reached over and covered them with a blanket, tucking her close to him, almost able to see her need to be touched.

“My…parents are really my aunt and uncle. My birth mother, Mary, had me when she was a teenager.” Jasmine swallowed. “I found out when I was a child that my parents only adopted me because they received part of Mary’s inheritance. They n-never loved me. To them I was…bad blood.” The words came out on top of each other, like a flood bursting its banks. Her fist loosened and then curled again.

Reaching out, he covered her hand and uncurled her fingers, smoothing them out. Her hurt was almost palpable. He’d never liked her parents, but at this instant he could have done physical violence to them. How dare they not treasure his wife, his precious Jasmine? “And
you think this matters to me?” He was a little hurt by her distrust.

“You’re a sheik. You should’ve married a princess or at least someone who can claim royal blood. I don’t even know the name of the man who fathered me.” Her breath was ragged.

That was shameful, he acknowledged, but the shame was not hers,
never
hers. The shame was of the man who’d given his seed to create this lovely woman and then walked away, of the woman who’d borne a child and abandoned her, and of the people who’d asked payment for the priceless gift of this woman.

“Look at me.” He turned her in his arms. Jasmine raised her head and met his gaze, vulnerable but willing to face whatever he had to say. Pride in her courage burned in him. “Our people have barbarian roots. Chieftains still occasionally give in to the urge to carry off the women of their choice.” He ran his finger over her lips, reminding her of his actions. “A desert male’s choice is what is important. And I chose you to be my wife.”

“You aren’t angry that I didn’t tell you?” Her blue eyes shimmered with moisture.

“Of course I’m not angry with you, my wife. I would that you had told me earlier, but I am not such a barbarian that I can’t understand your reluctance.” He kissed her again, knowing she needed to be physically reassured. Her body felt incredibly fragile under his hands, needing exquisite care.

When she started to relax, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me this when we first met?” Back then, he’d been open in his adoration of his flame-haired girl.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “I…just
wanted… I didn’t expect Mary to keep me…but I thought after I was older she might want to get in touch. I wrote to her.” She swallowed. “She told me never to contact her again. I was…an indiscretion.” Her breath had become ragged again, her tears barely held in check.

“Then you… I wanted to…to not be an outcast.” Those eyes of hers brightened with tears, but his brave little Mina didn’t let them fall. “I just wanted to be accepted.”

He heard the important words in that emotional confession. “Then have no fears. You are accepted. As my
wife,
Jasmine. What you were before only matters if you wish it to.” Any hurt and anger he might have felt died a quick death under the overwhelming need to shelter her from further pain.

His Mina, his gentle, sensitive wife, had grown up in a place where she had not been nurtured, where her softness had been mocked. It made him furious that this lovely woman in his arms had suffered so much pain and rejection. Knowing what she’d been through, he could forgive her for trying to protect herself. And yet she’d told him her secret. She’d laid her heart at his feet, and then given him the weapons to destroy it. It was an offering of immense trust and courage, and he intended to treat it with the care it deserved.

Slowly, almost shyly, she wrapped her slender arms around his waist. “Truly?” At that soft sound, his heart clenched in a wave of tenderness as fierce as the desert sun.

“Are you saying that the Sheik of Zulheil would lie to you?” He saw a tremulous smile edging her lips and was proud he could make her smile. Mina was his to care for.

“Maybe. If he thought it would get him his own way.” Her voice was less teary, her smile wider.

He grinned at that. “I think you are right, but in this thing, never doubt me. You are now equivalent to a queen. No one has the right to make you feel an outcast.” He would destroy any man or woman who tried to make his Mina feel a lesser being. “No one. Do you understand, my wife?”

Finally, she nodded, and her smile was glorious. Tariq kissed her, knowing that she’d just shattered the strongest barrier keeping him from loving her, heart and soul. How could he continue to fight his feelings for her, now that he knew what had driven her? How could he hurt his Mina as her family had hurt her, by not loving her as she needed to be loved?

J
ASMINE CLOSED THE DOOR ON
the last guest of the day and headed to Tariq’s study. Since she’d started to spend her days helping her husband, her pride in herself had grown. All her life she’d been told that she didn’t measure up, but the people of Zulheil thought she was doing a fine job. And, she thought with a smile, the look in her husband’s eyes as he helped her pick up the reins of royalty was magic itself.

“You are looking pleased with yourself.”

“Tariq.” Jasmine flowed into his arms. Her need to touch him grew daily. “I thought you’d be in your office.”

“I have completed my work for today. You make my duties much easier to bear.” He cupped her cheek and tipped up her face. His expression was unexpectedly serious. “You are not taking on too much, Jasmine? I would not have you become ill.”

She smiled and turned her face into his palm. “Do I look ill or tired?”

He shook his head. “You glow like the crystal of this palace.”

“That’s because I’ve found a place where I can belong at last.” She was struck by the truth of that statement.

Tariq didn’t stop her when she began to walk toward their apartments. He slipped his fingers into hers and shortened his stride to accommodate her steady pace. The ageless beauty of the tapestries and carvings lining the hallway didn’t hold her attention while her mind was on things past, but she was constantly aware of Tariq’s protective presence. She led them out into the private garden behind their rooms.

“It’s like the sun is smiling at the world.” When she held out her hands, the thick yellow-orange sunlight shot through her fingers like warm, liquid satin. In the sky, red, orange and yellow vied for prime position in the soft pink glow of sunset, and all seemed at peace.

Tariq tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “You belong in the sun, Mina.”

She turned and smiled at him. “I belong
here.
”

“Yes.” He curved his arm around her and cradled her against him. One arm around his back, she rested her head on his muscled chest. They didn’t speak until there was more red than yellow in the sky and pink was segueing to violet.

“I know you did not feel you belonged in your parents’ home. Was there any reason aside from your birth?”

The question was unexpected, but she welcomed the chance to make Tariq understand the girl she’d been.
“I’ve never talked to you about this. I think I was afraid you’d begin to feel like everyone else.”

“No one can control me, my Jasmine. Tell me.”

She knew his words were supposed to comfort her, and to a certain extent, they did. However, they also reminded her of the divide that existed between them. Tariq was treating her like a partner as far as running Zulheil went, but in their personal relationship…would he ever trust her again?

“You know my sister Sarah is a stunning beauty.” Sarah had the kind of beauty that made people stand in the streets and stare, something Sarah certainly knew. She’d been using her beauty her entire life to bewitch and control those around her. Even her parents could deny her nothing.