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The Sultan Demands His Heir Page 8


  Her stomach dipped and tightened at the way he pronounced her name, the sensuality it evoked. Esme clenched her fists against the feeling, and turned.

  ‘Hello, Za... Your Highness.’ She changed her mind over using his given name. It was safer that way. Safer to maintain distance between them.

  Keep this straightforward.

  Keep it professional.

  ‘Thank you for arranging all this for my father.’ She indicated the room, and the house. ‘And also for his care at the hospital. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there. So...thank you.’

  ‘Is this finally the frothing of gratitude you promised?’ he asked as he stepped deeper into the room, his grace and elegance evoking images of a sleek jungle predator.

  The reminder of her waspish words triggered a blush, one she was still fighting when he stopped in front of her. The disparity in their heights forced her head up. Again she was unable to quell the zap of heat that arrowed through her. ‘If that is what you wish it to be.’

  He remained silent for a stretch before he spoke. ‘I would’ve preferred it not to have been triggered by your father,’ he said, his voice containing a bite that produced a different reaction from her. She watched him cast a displeased glance around the room before returning his attention to her. ‘I take it he’s better pleased with his accommodations?’ he drawled.

  ‘Yes, he is.’

  Esme wasn’t surprised at all when his mouth flattened. ‘He orchestrated everything to end up this way. You know this, don’t you?’ he bit out, his mood darkening further.

  Her heart dropped because that same thought had occurred to her. ‘Maybe. But the fact remains that his health, not to mention his personal safety, was at risk at the prison.’

  The hand he lifted to trace her cheek was gentle but, in direct contrast, the look in his eyes was stark, resigned with more than a trace of bitterness.

  Esme swallowed, instinctively shying away from knowing whatever was coming even as her skin heated and tingled at his touch.

  ‘Be that as it may, you’ve proved me right after all. Nothing comes without a price.’

  ‘But we’re both getting what we want. Isn’t that all that matters?’ Her voice was barely a murmur, his continued caress and their opposing conversation ripping her concentration to shreds.

  ‘Is that how you justify coming to a criminal’s aid?’ he accused.

  Stung, she jerked away from his hand. ‘I’m helping him because, criminal or not, he doesn’t deserve to be attacked! I’d do the same for anyone else.’

  ‘But you’re going over and above for your father, despite knowing exactly what kind of man he is.’

  The urge to fold her arms in the universal posture of defence was strong. But she managed to keep her hands at her sides. ‘Did you come here merely to condemn me and my father?’

  ‘I came to take you back to the palace. The next stage of our arrangement needs to be hammered out.’

  A foreboding little shiver went through her. ‘But my father—’

  ‘Will be fine. One of his guards is an army medic. Besides, our agreement doesn’t include you remaining here to play nursemaid.’

  ‘What does it include exactly? You haven’t yet told me.’

  ‘We will discuss it back at the palace. If you wish to say goodbye to your father, do it now.’

  ‘Did someone mention me?’

  Zaid tensed at the intrusion. Then they both turned.

  The eyes of a newly shaven, showered and dressed Jeffrey swung from her to Zaid. Then he executed a graceful bow worthy of an award-winning performance. ‘Your Highness, please allow me to express my gratitude for the kindness you have shown me.’

  ‘You have your daughter to thank for this,’ Zaid rasped.

  Her father straightened and eyed her, the speculative gleam in his eyes intensifying. ‘Do I? I hope the cost wasn’t too dear. I don’t know what I’d do without her.’ His gaze returned to Zaid. ‘She’s the only family I have left, you see.’

  Something passed between the two men. Something that made Esme’s hackles rise. But then her father smiled and the sensation shifted. ‘Are you staying for dinner, Esmeralda?’ he asked. ‘Your Highness, I would be honoured to have your company too, of course.’

  ‘She’s not staying,’ Zaid answered for her. ‘Neither am I. Remember, Mr Scott, that the only thing that has changed is the location of your incarceration. And this is only temporary. I’m sure you’ll also have noticed that there isn’t another dwelling for miles and no means of escape. There’s a security drone watching the house at all times. Attempt anything foolish and steps will be taken to stop you. As for future dinners with your daughter, that won’t be happening any time soon. After today, she will be permitted to visit you as per the usual regulations—once a week, in the middle of the day.’

  Her father gave a curt nod. ‘Understood, Your Highness.’

  Zaid turned to her. ‘We’re leaving.’ The command gave no room for refusal.

  Even though a part of her was relieved not to have been forced into a lingering goodbye with her father, Esme was still bristling by the time she settled into the now-familiar seat of the helicopter and they took off.

  * * *

  He shifted in his seat and she jumped when his robe brushed her leg.

  ‘Do you have something to say to me, Esmeralda, or am I to be given the silent treatment for the whole of the journey?’

  She turned her head, then wished she hadn’t when she noted just how close he was. ‘Did you have to talk to him like that?’

  ‘Like what? A man who doesn’t make his living from exploiting weakness in others? Tell me he wasn’t seeking to take advantage of the situation and I will offer my regrets.’

  She couldn’t reply because she couldn’t refute the accusation.

  Silence fell between them for another ten minutes until she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  ‘Whatever he’s done, he’s still my father. Would you turn your back on yours in my shoes?’

  ‘My father lived an exemplary life of honour and integrity. I would never have needed to make such a sacrifice,’ he stated, overwhelming pride stamped in his voice.

  But that wasn’t what caught Esme’s attention. It was his use of the past tense. ‘Lived?’ she asked, the thought occurring to her that although she knew he’d inherited the throne after his uncle’s death from a heart attack, she hadn’t come across any information about his parents in her brief research. Come to think of it, information on Zaid’s own childhood and teenage years had been very sparse. Only his early professional life and later accomplishments had been documented.

  She glanced at him at his continued silence and only then noticed the tension that gripped him. Even before he spoke, Esme knew something huge was coming. ‘My father has been dead for a very long time,’ he said.

  Her chest tightened in sympathy. ‘And your mother?’

  His mouth compressed, dispersing the momentary flash of pain she glimpsed in his face. ‘They perished together.’

  Her earlier admonition to herself to stay away from personal subjects replayed in her mind, only to be ignored. ‘How did they die?’

  In the semi-darkness of the helicopter, his face settled into ragged, haunted lines. ‘They were assassinated by my uncle as we drove home from my thirteenth birthday celebrations.’

  Shock held her rigid for several seconds. ‘Oh, Zaid... My God. I’m... I don’t know what to say!’

  ‘In such circumstances there rarely are adequate words,’ he replied.

  ‘I shouldn’t have pried in the first place,’ she returned, horrified at churning up bad memories for him.

  He shrugged offhandedly, although the eyes that probed hers were an intense dark bronze. ‘You have me wide open, Esmeralda. Ask your questions and I will answer them.’

  The distinctive American term reminded her where he’d grown up. ‘Did you go to the States after...after what happened to your parents?’


  ‘I couldn’t stay here. Not unless I wished to invite another attempt on my life.’

  She gasped. ‘You mean your uncle intended you to be killed too?’

  ‘He had his eye on the throne. That meant doing away with everyone who stood in his way, including the boy who would grow to be the man with the rightful claim to the throne. He’d meant to have us all killed that night. My father shielded me with his body and his aides managed to raise the alarm before Khalid’s men could finish the job properly.’

  The matter-of-fact way he relayed the tale didn’t stop her from seeing the pain in his eyes.

  ‘What...what happened after that?’

  ‘Khalid’s hands were tied. He couldn’t very well execute a child without incurring the wrath of his people, even though everyone knew how he’d become Sultan. Some things are unforgivable. I was delivered to my maternal grandmother and given safe passage out of Ja’ahr on condition that we would never return, and a murderer and despot took power and ruled Ja’ahr for twenty years. The rest, as they say, is history.’

  For several minutes, she absorbed the stomach-turning news, a few pennies beginning to drop.

  ‘That’s why you became a lawyer, isn’t it? To put criminals like your uncle behind bars? Perhaps to challenge his rule when the time came?’

  A bitter smile cracked his lips, but it was gone in the next instant. ‘I dedicated every day of my life after I was tossed out of the only home I’d ever known to honing judicial weapons that would right the wrongs done to my parents and to me. Except Khalid had the audacity to succumb to his excessive indulgences and die of a heart attack caused by a clogged artery before I got the chance to see justice done.’

  The cold observation sent a shiver through her. So did the stark confirmation of why Zaid was a formidable opponent to have. The harrowing wrongs done to him as a child, and to his people in the years following, was the reason some viewed him as a ruthless ruler now. It was also the reason he didn’t trust anyone.

  But most of all, Esme knew, staring at him, that it was the reason he could never find out about her past. Those few weeks with Bryan and how everything had ended would never be struck from her copybook, no matter whose fault it had been. She didn’t know what would happen to her father during his trial, but she instinctively knew that the reluctant concession Zaid had granted her father would be withdrawn the second he found out.

  Unease whispered up her spine at the thought of discovery. And this time not even reminding herself that she was no longer that person could wash away that sensation.

  But still she met his gaze, infused truth into her words. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘I didn’t mean to drag all of this up for you.’

  ‘Curiosity is a natural occurrence when swimming in the getting-to-know-you waters, at least on the part of women, is it not?’

  The tiny mocking voice inside her head that irked her for wanting to know just how many women he’d got to know was smothered in favour of a much more persistent and powerful emotion. One that had her shifting sideways, the better to see his face, she told herself. What she didn’t account for was her hand disobeying her brain to slide over the seat and come to rest on top of his. ‘As is sympathy. I’m sorry for your loss.’ Her voice was a husky murmur, reflecting her lingering regret at bringing up memories that must be hard for him to recall.

  Zaid didn’t answer. Instead his gaze dropped to the pale hand she’d placed over his brown one. To the fingers starting to tremble as that blasted, ever-present hyperawareness thickened in the space between them.

  Still without speaking, he turned his hand over, splaying it open until his larger palm was pressed firmly against hers, dominating her small one. Heat singed their touching flesh as acutely as if a naked flame had been held against it. The sight of their clasped hands shouldn’t have been so basely erotic. But it was.

  He moved, sliding his skin more firmly against hers. Esme gasped as the sensation lodged low in her belly, then unfurled throughout her body, concentrating with shameless urgency between her thighs.

  She dragged her gaze up a breathless second before she realised his intention. She had time to move, time to duck her head or vocalise her denial. But she didn’t draw away. Because she didn’t want to.

  She stayed put, breath strangled to nothing, as Zaid slid his fingers through the loose knot of her hair and drew her firmly, inexorably, towards his kiss.

  Just like the man, the kiss was unapologetically dominant, his mouth owning hers the moment they touched. He tasted of Ja’ahrian coffee and an elusive spice. He tasted like all the forbidden desires she’d sworn off years ago. But the formidable man who’d already taken up far too much room in her head was impossible to deny.

  Hot, hungry, and intent on conquering her, Zaid pressed her back against the seat, angled his lips for a better fit and charged through her feeble defences.

  Within seconds, her lips were parting beneath the possessive pressure of his, letting him in when he demanded entry. The slow, glorious slide of his tongue against her lower inner lip elicited a moan she couldn’t have suppressed if she’d tried. As if the sound pleased him, he repeated it again and again, before catching her plump lip between his teeth. The nip of his teeth sent sparks racing through her system. She was chasing that unfamiliar strain of delight when he delved deeper between her lips. This time, his tongue slid boldly against hers. Pleasure arrowed straight between her legs, plumping up her most sensitive flesh, turning her slick with shockingly demanding need as the fingers in her hair drew her even closer.

  On a desperate whimper that echoed through the enclosed space, Esme opened even wider for him, the hand lying against his on the seat shifting to grip him tighter. Zaid gave a thick groan, then meshed his fingers through hers. He brought their clasped hands up between them, then pressed his body against hers.

  The feel of his heart beating against her hand, hers beating against his, caused something to lurch alarmingly inside her. Reluctant to explore why in that moment, she chose a different type of exploration. With her free hand, she slid her fingers over one strong bicep. Sleek muscles immediately rippled beneath her touch. Emboldened, she caressed upward, over the broad curve of his shoulder, to the neck opening of his robe. At the first brush of her fingers against his bare nape, Zaid muttered a thick, foreign imprecation. The sound was smashed between them as his kiss took on a frenzied, bone-melting intimacy. Something jolted inside her again. Only she realised a moment later that the movement wasn’t just inside her.

  The sound of the pilot’s door sliding open announced their arrival back at the Royal Palace. She jerked back from Zaid, then pushed frantically at his muscled chest when he didn’t budge. His fingers convulsed in her hair for a charged second before he drew back. But although he sat back in his seat, his hand held hers for another moment, his gaze tracking over her face with blatant hunger before he released her.

  ‘Come. We will continue this inside,’ he instructed in a rough, hoarse voice, then lifted his hand in a signal to his guards.

  The notion that he just expected her to fall into his lap...or his bed, struck a fiery nerve, but, with the usual clutch of staff accompanying them, she had no choice but to swallow her irritation as she walked silently at his side.

  Lost in her ire, Esme didn’t realise where they were until the scents of mouth-watering spices and cooked meat hit her nostrils. Surprised and curiously out of sorts, she glanced around the dining room.

  ‘We’re having dinner?’ she asked the moment his ever-present entourage were dismissed and they were alone.

  Faint amusement drifted over his features, although his eyes retained a turbulent heat and his body a banked tension that suggested he was still caught in the throes of what had happened in the helicopter.

  ‘Did you think that I intended to whisk you straight into my bed and have my way with you?’ he drawled.

  Heat flared up to stain her cheeks at his accurate reading of her thoughts. All the same, she r
aised her chin. ‘You say that as if it would’ve been a foregone conclusion.’

  He sauntered towards her, removing his keffiyeh and tossing it on a nearby surface. His outer robe followed, leaving him in only his muscle-skimming tunic and trousers. With his magnificent body on display, Esme couldn’t fault his powerful animal grace, the lithe movement effortlessly trapping her attention, capturing both her mind and body.

  She held her breath as he reached out, lazily, assuredly, and trailed his thumb over the mouth he’d kissed so thoroughly barely fifteen minutes ago. The mouth he eyed hungrily for a long moment, before his gaze met hers.

  ‘I am not ashamed to admit that I desire you, Esmeralda. You captivate me. What took place a little earlier tells me the feeling is mutual. Where that captivation takes us is a destination I intend to thoroughly enjoy exploring.’ His voice was full of erotic promise, of heady delights that had her body throbbing anew, setting off sensual fires that thrilled and terrified her.

  It was the latter emotion that had her stepping back. ‘It won’t take us anywhere,’ she blurted, as much out of the need to spell it out for herself as it was for him.

  Pure male arrogance blazed from his eyes. When his gaze dropped to her lips again, it was all she could do not to tug the still tingling flesh into her mouth. ‘Are you sure about that?’ he challenged, his voice low, laced with sensual danger.

  Alarm growing, Esme took another step back. ‘Yes, I’m sure. What happened tonight was a mistake. Rest assured, it won’t happen again.’

  It seemed almost superhuman, the way he concisely eradicated every vestige of arousal from his face. It didn’t happen immediately, so she had time to wonder why her disappointment was so cutting, why she was already mourning something she’d rejected so definitively.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT TOOK A considerable amount of effort to lock her knees to stay put as his hand dropped.

  ‘Very well. But we still need to discuss the flip side of our arrangement,’ he said, his tone brisk as he spun on his heel and walked to the head of the table. ‘We’ll do that while we eat. Unless you object to dinner too?’ he threw over his shoulder.