The Sultan’s Virgin Bride

 SarahMorgan

  

 2006

  

 Wanted by the Sultan—for bedding and wedding!

 Ruthless Sultan Tariq bin Omar al-Sharma can have almost anything, and anyone, he wants. The only exception to his rule has been beautiful oil heiressFarrahTyndal . Farrah’s romantic dreams of marriage were crushed when she discovered Tariq wanted her, but only in his bed.

  

 Five years on, Tariq needs to secure a crucial business agreement. But to seal the deal, he must marry Farrah. Though having broken her heart, he now has to mend it. But what about his obligation as a prince of the desert, which dictates he should never mix businesswith pleasure?

  

 CHAPTER ONE

  

 EVERYTHINGwas in place.

 Like a predator he lay in wait, his powerful body still andhis eyes alert and watchful.

 Remote and unapproachable, Sultan Tariq bin Omar al­Sharma lounged silently in his chair and surveyed the ballroomfrom the best table in the room. The arrogant tilt of his proudbead and the cynical glint in his cold dark eyes were sufficienttokeep people at a respectful distance. As an additional pre­caution, bodyguards hovered in the background, ready to ap­prehend anyone brave or foolish enough to approach.

 Tariq ignored them in the same way that he ignored thestares of everyone in the room, accepting the attention withthe bored indifference of someone who had been the objectAinterest and speculation since birth.

 He was the most eligible bachelor in the world, relentlessly pursued by scores of hopeful women.A man of strength andpower, hard and tough and almost indecently handsome.

 In a room filled with powerful, successful men, Tariq washe ultimate catch and the buzz of interest built to fever pitch.Women cast covetous glances in his direction, each one indulging in her own personal fantasy about being the one to[raw his eye because to do so would be the romantic equiv­alent of winning the lottery.

 Ordinarily he might have exploited that appeal to ruthless advantage, but tonight he was interested in only one woman.

 And so far she hadn't arrived.

 Nothing about his powerful, athletic frame suggested that his presence in the room stemmed from anything other than a desire to patronize a high profile charity ball. His handsome, aristocratic face was devoid of expression, giving no hint that this evening was the culmination of months of meticulous planning.

 For him, tonight was all about business.

 He needed control of the Tyndall Pipeline Corporation. The construction of the pipeline was essential to the success­ful future of Tazkash--crucial for the security and prosper­ity of his people. He needed to pump oil across the desert. The project was economically, environmentally and finan­cially viable. Everything was in place.

 ButHarrisonTyndall, Chief Executive Officer, wasn't playing ball. He wasn't even willing to negotiate. And Tariq knew the reason why.

 The girl.

 FarrahTyndall.

 Daddy's baby.Spoiled little rich girl.Party girl.`It' girl.The girl who'd always had everything she wanted.

 Except him.

 Tariq's hard mouth curved into a smile. Shecould have had him, he recalled. But she hadn't liked his terms.

 AndHarrisonTyndallhadn't liked them either. Weeks of delicate negotiation between the state of Tazkash and the Tyndall Pipeline Corporation had broken down and there had been no further communication on the subject for five long years.

 It was a sorry state of affairs, Tariq mused silently, when the wishes of a woman dictated the flow of business.

 Seated at his elbow,HasimAkbar, his Minister for Oil Exports, cleared his throat respectfully. `Perhaps I should walk around the room, Your Excellency. See if theTyndallgirl has arrived yet.'

 `She hasn't arrived.' Tariq spoke in a lazy drawl, his fluent, perfectly accented English the product of the most expensive education money could buy. `If she were here, I would know.'

 Hasim tapped his fingers on the table, unable to conceal his mounting anxiety. `Then she isextremely late.'

 Tariq gave a faint smile. `Of course she is extremely late. To be on time or even slightly late would be a wasted opportuni­ty.'

 He had no doubt thatFarrahTyndallwas currently loiter­ing in the wings somewhere, poised to make her entrance as dramatic as possible. After all, wasn't socializing the entire focus of her shallow, pampered existence? Having spent all day with her hairdresser and her stylist, she would be more than ready to display the fruits of their labour.Living up to her mother's reputation.FarrahTyndallwas just like every other woman he'd ever had dealings with. She cared about nothing more important than shoes, hair and the state of her nails.

 `It is getting late. Maybe she's here somewhere,' Hasim suggested nervously, `but we just haven't noticed her.'

 `Clearly you've never seen a picture ofFarrahTyndall.' Tariq turned his head, a slightly cynical inflection to his tone as he surveyed the man next to him. `If you had, then you would know that being noticed is the one thing she does really,really well.'

 `She is beautiful?’

 'Sublime.'Tariq's gaze slid back to the head of the stair­case. 'FarrahTyndallcan light up a room with one smile from her perfectly painted mouth. If she were already here then the men in the room would be glued to the spot and staring.'

 As he had stared on that first day, standing on the beach at the desert camp of Nazaar.

 Her beauty was enough to blind a man.Enough to blind him to her truly shallow nature.

 But it wasn't her beauty or her personality that interested him now. For the past few months his staff had been dis­creetly buying every available share in the Tyndall Pipeline Corporation. Control was finally within his reach. All he needed to take over the company and guarantee the pipeline project was a further twenty per cent.

 AndFarrahTyndallowned twenty per cent.

 Hasim was breathing rapidly. `I still think this plan is im­possible.'

 Tariq gave a slow smile, totally unperturbed. `The chal­lenge and stimulation of business comes from making the im­possible possible,' he observed, his long fingers toying idly with the stem of his glass, `and to find a solution where there appears to be none.'

 `But if you carry out your plan then you will have to marry her--'

 Confronted by that unpalatable truth, Tariq's fingers tight­ened on the glass. Despite his outward display of indiffer­ence, his internal reaction to the prospect of marriage bordered on the allergic. `Only in the short term,' he drawled and Hasim's expression transformed from mild concern to one of extreme anxiety.

 `You are seriously considering invoking the ancient law that allows you to divorce after forty days and forty nights?’

 'Everything my wife owns, and I do meaneverything ,' Tariq inserted with silken emphasis, `becomes mine on marriage. I want those shares but I have no wish to stay mar­ried.'

 The plan was perfect.Masterly.

 Hasim fiddled nervously with the cloth of his suit. `To the best of my knowledge, that particular divorce law has not been applied for centuries.'

 `And most people have forgotten its existence, which is clearly to our advantage.'

 `It is an insult to a bride and her family, Your Excellency.' Hasim's voice was hoarse and Tariq lifted an ebony brow.

 `How is it possible to insult a woman who thinks only of partying and possessions?' His tone was sardonic. `If you're expecting me to feel sorry forFarrahTyndallthen you're wasting your time.'

 `But what if she doesn't come tonight? Everything depends on the girl.' The Minister shifted on his chair, beads of sweat standing out on his brow as the prolonged wait started to affect his nerves.

 By contrast Tariq, who had nerves of steel and had never doubted his own abilities, sat relaxed and confident, his gaze still focused on the sweep of stairs that led down into the ballroom. `She will come. Her father is patron of this charity and she's never been one to miss a good party. You can safely leave the girl to me, Hasim.'

 And even as he said the words she appeared at the top of the staircase.

 Poised like a princess, her golden hair piled high on her head in a style no doubt selected in order to display her long slender neck to greatest advantage, the dress a sheath of glit­tering gold falling from neck to ankles and hugging a body that was nothing short of female perfection.

 Clearly he'd been right in his assumption that she'd spent the entire afternoon at the hairdresser and with her stylist, Tariq thought with cold objectivity, his expert gaze sliding slowly down her body.

 Which meant that her priorities hadn't changed at all in the five years since they'd last met.

 But there were changes, he noticed, as he watched the way she drifted down the stairs with the effortless grace of a dancer. She carried herself differently. No longer the leggy teenager who had appeared slightly awkward and self­-conscious, she'd developed poise and sophistication. She'd grown into her stunning looks.

 The girl he'd once known had become a woman.

 Although he was careful to betray nothing, he felt every­thing inside him tighten in a vicious attack of lust. Desire, hot and fierce, gripped his lean, athletic frame and, for a moment, he was sorely tempted to drag her from the ballroom and make use of the nearest available flat surface.

 Which just went to prove, he thought grimly, that the male libido was no judge of character and completely disconnected from the brain.

 Irritated by the violence of his own response to her, he watched in brooding silence as she weaved between tables, pausing occasionally to meet and greet. Her smile was an in­triguing mix of allure and innocence and she used it well, cap­tivating her male audience with the gentle curve of her lips and the teasing flash of her eyes.

 She was an accomplished flirt.A woman of exceptional beauty who knew exactly how to use the gifts that nature had bestowed upon her to best advantage. And she used each gift to its full as she worked the room, shining brighter than any star as she moved towards her table with a group of friends.

 Her table was next to his. He knew that because his instruc­tions to his staff had been quite specific and, like a jungle cat lying in wait for its prey, Tariq remained still, poised for her to notice him.

 The tension inside him rose and anticipation thrummed in his veins.

 Any moment now...

 She exchanged a few words with a passing male, who laughed and kissed her hand. Then she dropped her tiny bag on the table andturned, the smile still on her lips.

 And saw him.

 The colour drained from her beautiful face and the bright smile died instantly like a vibrant flame doused by cold water.

 Something vulnerable flared in the depths of her amazing green eyes and, for a brief moment, the woman vanished and he saw the girl again.

 She looked like someone who had sustained a severe shock and then she dragged her gaze away from his, closed her fingers over the back of the chair to steadyherself and took several deep breaths.

 Observing the effect his presence had on her with arrogant masculine satisfaction, Tariq reflected on the fact that his task was going to be every bit as easy as he'd imagined it would be.

 Simple.

 He watched as she straightened her narrow shoulders and let her hands fall from the chair that she'd used for support. Her eyes blank of expression, she looked at him, inclined her head gracefully in his direction and then turned back to her friends, nothing in her demeanour suggesting that he was anything other than the most casual of acquaintances.

 Playing it cool.

 His gaze lingered on the soft swell of her breasts and he reflected that, although he had a personal rule of never mixing business with pleasure, he had no objection to indulging in pleasure once the business was over. And, although his marriage to theTyndallheiress was business, the wedding night would mostdefinitely be his pleasure.

 Forty days and forty nights of pleasure, to be exact.With a clear mental vision of how he intended to pass his limited time as a married man, Tariq gave a slow smile of anticipation.

 It appeared as though this business deal would not be anything like the arduous task that he'd initially imagined.

 Marriage had suddenly taken on an appeal that had previ­ously escaped him.

 ***

  

 She had to get away.

 Farrah stood in a dark corner of the terrace overlooking the manicured grounds. The rain had long since stopped and the August night was warm and muggy, but she was shiver­ing like a whippet. She ran her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm herself but it made no difference. The chill was deep inside her. If there had been any way of leaving without her absence being noted she would have done so because to stay in the same room as Tariq bin Omar al-Sharma was nothing short of agony.

 She hadn't even known he was in the country.

 Had she known, she would have stayed at home, she would have gone abroad,she would have dug ahole and hidden —anything other than risk finding herself face to face with him.Especially with no warning. No chance to prepare herself mentally for the anguish of seeing him again.

 One glance from those exotic dark eyes and she'd turned into a schoolgirl again. An awkward, wide-eyed, besotted teenager, weighed down by more insecurities than she could count.

 She hadn't been good enough for him.

 He'd taken her fragile, fledgling self-confidence and ground it into the dust. Misery and humiliation mingled inside her and she wanted to curl up in a dark corner and hide herself away until she was sure he'd flown back to Tazkash.

 People always said that you could leave your past behind, but what were you supposed to do when your past had his own fleet of private planes and could follow you anywhere?

 Dinner had proved a long drawn out ordeal, an exercise in restraint and endurance, as she'd talked and laughed in a de­termined attempt not to reveal her distress to her companions. And all the time she'd been aware of him.

 Fate had seated her with her back to him and yet it had made no difference. She'd been able to feel the power of his presence.Feel his dark gaze burning into her back . And in

 theend, unable to sit a moment longer, she'd made her excuses and slipped outside.

 It was odd, she thought dully, that however much you changed yourself on the outside, the inside stayed the same. No matter how glossy the outside, inside lay all the old inse­curities. Inside she was still the same gawky, awkward, over­weight girl who didn't look right, wasn't interested in the right things and was a massive disappointment to her glam­orous mother.

 Memories of her mother intensified her misery and she lifted a shaking hand to her throbbing head. It had been six years since her mother's death, but the desperate desire to please,to make her mother proud , still lingered. She felt herself unravelling and suddenly she knew how Cinderella must have felt as the clock struckmidnight. If she didn't escape then all would be revealed. People might catch a glimpse of the realFarrahTyndalland she owed it to her mother's memory not to let that happen.She needed to go home, where she could be herself, without witnesses.

 She heard laughter from the ballroom and then footsteps, a purposeful masculine tread, and she stiffened her shoulders, trying to make clear from her body language that she sought neither company nor conversation.

 `It's unlike you to miss a party, Farrah.'

 His voice came from behind her, deep, silky and unmis­takably male, and everything in her tensed in response.

 Once she'd loved his voice. She'd found his smooth, mellifluous tones both exotic and seductive.

 She'd found everything about him exotic and seductive.

 They called him the Desert Prince and the name had stuck, despite the fact that he'd been the ruler of Tazkash for the past four years and was now Sultan. And, Prince or Sultan, Tariq bin Omar al-Sharma was a brilliant businessman. Fearless and aggressive, as Crown Prince he'd transformed thefortunes ofasmall, insignificant state and turned Tazkash intoa major player in the world markets. As Sultan he'd earned the respect of politicians and business institutions.

 He spoke and people listened.

 Now the sound of his voice transported her to the veryedge of a panic attack.

 Part of her wanted to ignore him, wanted to deny him the satisfaction of knowing that she even remembered him, andpart of her wanted to turn and hurt him.Hurt him as much ashe had hurt her with his cruel rejection.

 Fortunately she'd been taught that it was best never toreveal one's true feelings and her tutor in that lesson had beenTariq himself. He was a man who revealed nothing. She wasruled by her emotions and he was ruled by his mind.

 She'd shown. He'd mocked. She'd learned.

 Remembering the harsh lesson, she turned slowly, deter­mined to behave as if his presence meant nothing more thanan unwarranted disturbance. They were as different as it waspossible for two people to be. And he'd made it painfully clearthat she didn't belong in his world.

 `YourHighness.' Her voice was stiff and ferociously politeand she was careful not to look directly at him.Tolook into those eyes was to risk falling and she had no intention offalling.Aglance behind him told her that they were alone on the terrace although she saw a bulky shadow in the doorway, which she took to be that of a bodyguard. They were neverfar from him, a constant reminder of his wealth and impor­tance. `I find it warm in the ballroom.'

 `And yet you are shivering: With an economy ofmovement that was so much a part of the man, he steppedcloser and panic shot through her.

 Her throat dried and her fingers tightened around herjewelled evening bag, although why, she had no idea. Therichest, most eligible man in the world was hardly likely to beplanning to steal her possessions. And anyway, she thoughtdully, he'd already stolen the only part of herself she'd evervalued.Her heart.

 Determined to send him on his way, she glanced up andimmediately regretted the impulse.

 His shockingly handsome face was both familiar and alien.When she'd known him, at the beginning at least, she'dalways seen humour and warmth behind the cool exterior thathe chose to present to the world. It hadn't taken her long torealise that she'd seen what she wanted to see. Looking at himnow, she saw nothing that wasn't tough and hard.

 `Let's not play games, Your Excellency.' She was proud ofherself for keeping her voice steady.For behaving with re­straint.`We find ourselves at the same event and that is anunhappy coincidence for both of us, but that certainly doesn'tmean we have to spend time together. We have no need topretend a friendship that we both know does not exist.'

 He looked spectacular in a formal dinner jacket, shethought absently.As spectacular as he did dressed in moretraditional robes.And she knew him to be equally comfort­able in either. Tariq moved between cultures with the ease andconfidence that others less skilled and adaptable could onlyenvy.

 He wastotallyout of her league and the fact that she'donce believed that they could have a future together was a hu­miliating reminder of just how naive and foolish she'd been.

 An expensive dress and a slick hairstyle didn't make her wife material as he'd once cruelly pointed out.

 Tariq had never met her mother, which was a shame, she thought miserably, because they would have had plenty incommon, most notably the belief that she didn't fit into the

 glitteringsociety they both frequented.

 It didn't matter, she told herself firmly as she felt a sudden rush of insecurity. She had her own life now and it was a lifethat she loved.A life that suited her. She'd learned to do theglossy stuff because it was expected of her, but that was onlya small part of her existence.

 And it wasn't the part she cared about.Wasn't the part thatshe consideredimportant.

 But that was something she had no intention of sharingwith Tariq. Her brief relationship with him had taught her that being open and honest just led to pain and anguish.And she'dlearned to protect herself.

 Music poured through the open doors, indicating that thedancing had begun. Farrah knew that in half an hour thefashion show would be starting.The fashion show in whichshe'd been persuaded to take part.But how could she? Howcould she walk down that catwalk, knowing that he was in theaudience?

 She'd callHenry, the family chauffeur. Ask him to comeand get her.

 The best way to protectherself right now was to leave.

 Having planned her escape, she made to step past him buthe caught her arm, long strong fingers closing over her bare flesh in a silent command.

 `This conversation is not finished. I have not given youpermission to leave.'

 She almost laughed. For Tariq, the use of power wassecond nature. He'd been born to command and did soreadily. At the tender age of eighteen she'd been dazzled bythat power.Hypnotized by his particular brand of potent sex­uality.Mesmerized by the man.

 Even now, with his hard masculine body blocking her escape, she felt the hot, hot sizzle of excitement flare insideher.And ignored it.

 `I don't need your permission, Tariq.' Her eyes flashed achallenge and anger rose inside her.Anger at herselffor re­sponding to a man who had hurt her.`I live my life the wayI choose to live it and fortunately it no longer includes you.This was a chance meeting which we'd both do well toforget.'

 And shewasgoing to forget it, she vowed dizzily, as shestruggled to control the throb of her heart and the slow, deli­cious curl of awareness in her stomach.

 These feelings weren't real.They weren't what mattered.

 `Do you really think that our meeting tonight has anythingto do with chance?' He was standing so close to her that shecould feel the heat of his body burning through the shimmer­ing fabric of her gold dress and, even as she fought againstit, she felt her limbs weaken in an instinctive feminineresponse to his blatant masculinity.Even though she waswearing impossibly high heels, his height and the width ofhis shoulders ensured that he dominated her physically.Beingthis close was both torment and temptation and she felt ahelpless rush of wild excitement that she was powerless toquash.And she knew, from the sudden harshness of his breathing, that he was feeling it too.

 It had always been that way between them.

 From that first day at the beach.

 From their first kiss at the Caves of Zatua, deep in thedesert.

 It was the reason why she'd made such a total fool ofherself. She'd been blinded by a physical attraction sopowerful and shattering that it transcended common sense and cultural differences.

 For a moment she stood, frozen into stillness by the'strength of his presence. There was something intenselysexual about him.Something raw and untamed.Somethingprimitively male.She'd sensed it from the first moment ofmeeting him and she felt it again now as she stood, trapped by her own uncontrollable response to him. Her nipples

 hardened and thrust against the fabric of her dress and something dark and dangerous uncurled low in her stomach andspread through her body.

 And then sounds of laughter from the ballroom broke thesensual spell that had stifled her ability to think and move.

 With a flash of mortification, she stepped away from him and reminded herself of the lessons she'd learned in the wilddesertlandofTazkash. She'd learned that a deep enduring love combined with wild, ferocious, untamed passion wasn'talways enough.

 She'd learned that he was ruthless and cynical and thattheir personalities and expectations just didn't match.

 `You expect me to believe that you engineered this?' Shethrew her head back and laughed. 'Tariq, you were at suchpains to be rid of me five years ago that I know that cannotpossibly be true. I was unsuitable, remember? You wereashamed of me.'

 Just as her mother had been ashamed of her

 `You were young.' His tone was cool. `I've watched youwith interest over the years.'

 Her eyes widened in shock. `Watched me?’

 'Of course.'He gave a wry smile. `You're rarely out of thepress. Designers fight to have you wear their clothes on thered carpet. If you wear a dress, then it sells.'

 And how sad was that?Farrah mused, producing a falsesmile designed to indicate that such an `accolade' mattered to her. In truth, the thought that people regarded her-her-as afashion icon was as ridiculous as it was laughable. Almost as laughable as the idea that Tariq had noticed and cared.

 He was a man who negotiated peace settlements andbillion dollar oil deals. It was hard to believe that he could be genuinely interested in something as superficial as thecontents of her wardrobe, but she'd long since resignedherself to the fact that her priorities seemed to be differentfrom those of almost everyone else on the planet. She caredabout different things.

 But, thanks to her mother, she'd learned to stay quiet abouther real interests. Had learned to play the game she wasexpected to play and she played it now, lifting her chin,hidingbehind the image she'd created for herself. She watched his eyes narrow as he studied her expression.

 `You've developed poise, Farrah. And elegance.'

 And duplicity.She was the master of pretence. Conceal­ing her frustration behind another smile, she wondered whyit was that everyone was so obsessed with how she looked on the outside. Didn'tanyonecare about the person behindthe glitter? Wasn't anyone interested in who she really was?

 Memories, painful and hurtful, twisted inside her.

 For a short blissful time she'd thought Tariq was interested.She'd thought he cared.But she'd been wrong.

 And his rejection had been the final spur for her to reinventherself. To finally become the woman her mother had alwayswanted her to be.At least for part of the time.For the rest ofthe time she led an entirely different life. The life she wantedto lead.A life that few knew about.

 A life she had absolutely no intention of sharing withTariq.

 `I'm glad you approve,' she said smoothly, stepping asideso that she could walk past him. `And now I need to goand-'

 `You're not going anywhere.' Without hesitation, he caughther round the waist and jerked her towards him. She lifted ahand in an instinctive gesture of defense, but it was too late.Her body had felt the hard brush of his thighs and respondedinstantly.

 She shook her head to clear the clouds of dizziness andsucked in a lungful of air but even that was a mistake because the air contained the delicious, erotic scent of him and the clouds around her brain just grew denser.

 Struggling to find the control that she was so proud of,she heldherself rigid in his arms. `Why would you suddenlyseek me out? I can hardly believe you find yourself short offemale company.'

 `I'm not short of female company.'

 His cool statement shouldn't have caused pain but it didand she dragged her eyes away from her involuntary study of his dark jaw.

 `Then go and concentrate your attentions on someonewho's interested,' she suggested, squashing down memoriesof past humiliation. `I'm not. And I want you to let me go.'

 The tension between them was overwhelming. `If you'renot interested,' he said silkily, `why is your heart poundingagainst mine?'

 Farrah decided that if there was anything worse than feeling this way, itwas knowing that he was aware of herreaction. `I don't like being held against my will,' she saidfrostily, a flash of anger in her eyes as she looked at him. `AndI don't like the way you use power and control to get yourown way. I don't respond to bullying.'

 `You think I'm bullying you?' His tone was lethally soft,his mouth only a breath away from hers. `That's strange,because I let go of you the moment you requested that I doso, but you haven't moved an inch, Farrah. Your body is stillagainst mine. Why is that? I wonder.'

 She gave a soft gasp and stepped back, realising that hewas telling the truth. He was no longer holding her.

 `I think what holds us together is sexual chemistry,' hemurmured, a self-satisfied look in his eyes as he lifted a handto her flushed cheek, `the way it always did.Which proves I was right to seek you out. '

 From somewhere, she found her voice. `Why would youdo that? What possible reason could you have for seekingme out?'

 A man like Tariq did nothing on impulse. His schedule waspunishing. Every moment of his day was planned in minute detail. Even when they'd been together, she'd had problemsgetting to see him. It was extremely unlikely that he wouldhave been at an event like this without a purpose.

 Was she that purpose?And if so, why? What did she havethat he could possibly want?

 There was a brief silence while he studied her beneath dis­tractingly thick dark lashes. `Five years is a long time. Youwere young and impulsive. You had no knowledge of mycountry or culture. It was, perhaps, inevitable that there wouldbe problems between us.Misunderstandings.'

 The injustice of his remarks stung her and her spine stiff­ened.

 She'd been young, yes.A few weeks past her eighteenthbirthday.Impulsive?Probably.But she'd also been ruth­lessly manipulated by those around him,those who pro­fessed to be close to him.She'd been well and truly flattenedby palace politics.

 `I don't want to talk about the past and I'm not interestedin your opinion, Tariq.' Her voice was flat. `It was a long timeago and we've both moved on.'

 `I don't think so.' His eyes, dark as night, slid down herslender frame and he reached out and lifted her right hand.

 `You still wear my ring.'

 The ring.

 With something approaching horror her gaze slid to thesparkling dramatic stone. The ring had been the embodiment of all her girlish dreams and even when their relationship hadfallen apart she hadn't been able to bring herself to take it off.

 Cursing herself for being so sentimental, she snatched herhand away from his. The ring was exquisitely beautiful.Adiamond so rare and perfect that she'd fallen in love with it on sight.As she had with the man who had given it to her.`Actually, Tariq, I wear it to remind me that men bearing ex­travagant gifts are not to be trusted.'

 An indulgent smile spread across his bronzed features.`Fool yourself if you wish,laeela,but not me. Strong feelingsare not so easily extinguished. There are some things thatremain unaffected by the passage of time.'

 Like pain, she thought dully.

 `Just go, Tariq.' Her heart was beating frantically and theshivering started up again. `If you want closure for whathappened between us, then you have it. But go, and leave mealone tolive my life.' She was fine, she told herself firmly. Really, she was absolutely fine.

 `Closure.Such an American word.'He looked at herthoughtfully. `You should not walk around in the night air,half undressed. You will catch a chill.'

 Before she could anticipate his intention, he shrugged his shoulders out of his jacket and draped it around her bareshoulders.

 Once again she was enveloped by the familiar masculine scent and her senses swam.

 He leaned closer to her, his breath warm on her cheek. `Idid not come here to seek closure, Farrah. That is not thereason that I'm here tonight.' His voice was a soft, seductive purr and she flattened herself against the cold, hard stone ofthe balcony that skirted the terrace.

 `Then why are you here? Can we get to the point so that I can go back into the ballroom?' He was standing too closeto her. She felt stifled.Suffocated. And she didn't want towear the jacket. It was too intimate.Too much a part of him.

 But, before she could remove it, he closed in on her, thewidth of his shoulders ensuring that he was the focus of hergaze. She could no longer see the ballroom or the bodyguard.

 She could no longer see the terrace. All she could see wasglit­teringdark eyes and a hard, sensual mouth that knew how todrive a woman to distraction. And she'd forgotten about thejacket.

 'Tariq-' His name was a plea on her lips and his ownmouth curved slightly in acknowledgment of that plea. Hecould see everything, she thought desperately. Heknewev­ erything.Her thoughts.Her feelings.The strange buzz in herbody.He had access to all of it.

 `As I said, there are some things that the passage of timedoesn't change. It is still there between us,' he said softly,lifting a hand and brushing her cheek gently with his fingers.`That is good.'

 His touch made her nerve endings tingle and her mindflickered to the rumours that abounded. It was said that therewas nothing that Tariq al-Sharma didn't know about women.That he was a skilful lover.The best.

 She'd never been given the opportunity to find out.

 `There is nothing between us.' From somewhere deepinside her, she found her voice. `You killed it, Tariq.'

 His smile hovered somewhere between self satisfied andamused. `Denial is useless when the body speaks so clearly.'

 `You want my body to speak clearly? Fine: Goaded by theexpression on his face, she lifted a hand and slapped him hardacross the cheek. From the darkness of the terrace bodyguardssurged forward but Tariq halted their progress with a smooth liftof his hand, his eyes locked on hers in incredulous disbelief.

 `You believe in living dangerously,laeela.But I forgive your reaction because I understand the depth of feeling thatinspired such a move on your part.' The brief flare of anger in his dark eyes subsided, to be replaced by something slum­brous and infinitely more dangerous. `There was always heatbetween us. And, despite what you may think, I don't wanta meek, submissive wife.’

 Coming to terms with the realization that not only had shejust hit someone for the first time her life but she'd chosento be violent with someone who could probably have herarrested, Farrah looked at him blankly, mortified that she'dlost control and shocked by her own uncharacteristic behav­iour.`Wife? You have a wife now'?'

 The possibility that he'd married someone in the five yearssince they'd met hadn't entered her head, but of course hewould have married. Even a man as commitment phobic asTariq couldn't avoid it for ever. It was his duty. Had she notrecognized the pressures on him right from the start?Someone suitable and approved of by his wretched, interfer­ing family.Why should she care? Why would it matter to her?She should pity the girl in question.

 `I don't have a wifeyet.'His tone was silky smooth. `Butyou have led the conversation round to the reason for mebeing here this evening.'

 `You're looking for a wife?' Her tone was faintly sarcas­tic. `Then step back into the ballroom, Tariq. I'm sure they'llbe queuing up.'

 `They probably would be-' he gave a dismissive shrug`-but there's no need for me to look because the woman Iintend to marry is standing in front of me.' He inclined hisdark head and his mouth hovered close to hers. `I've decidedthat I want you as my wife, Farrah. I have decided to marryyou.'

  

 CHAPTER TWO

  

 FARRAHstood in shocked silence.

 I want you as my wife...lhave decided to marry you.

 His words spun round and round in her head and when shefinally spoke her voice was little more than a whisper. `Is thissome sort of sick joke?'

 Once, to marry him had been her dream. And he knew it.Was he taunting her with her naivety?

 `As you well know, I have never found the prospect ofmarriage even remotely amusing.' Ebony brows locked in afrown. `Why would you accuse me of joking?'

 `Because you can't possibly be serious?We've had nocontact forfiveyears! And on the last occasion we were to­gether-which, by the way, was when you told me that youcouldnevermarry a woman like me-' she supplied help­fully, `you informed me that I was perfect mistress materialbut nothing else!'

 Just saying the words aloud started her shivering again. Youthought you'd recovered from something, she thought to herselfas she tried to control her reaction, and then you realized thatit had been there all along.Buried.Waiting to be uncovered.

 People who said that time healed were lying. You madeadjustments. You learned to live with things that you couldn'tchange. But that didn't mean that healing had taken place.

 `Actually, I was wrong. Five years ago you were too youngand innocent to be perfect mistress material.' Tariq studiedher thoughtfully and he lifted a hand to touch her flushedcheek. `The perfect mistress should be sexually experienced and emotionally detached. You were neither.'

 The colour in her cheeks deepened and she pulled awayfrom him. `I'm not interested in your definition of the perfectmistress. It was a role I rejected, if you remember.'

 He gave a slow smile. `Oh, I remember. You were holdingout for a much larger prize.'

 `I made the mistake of thinking that our relationship meantsomething.'

 `It did. We were good together,' he said smoothly. `And,had you come to my bed, you would have experienced thetrue meaning of the word "pleasure."'

 Her body heated with an explosive flash and she draggedher eyes away from the knowing gleam in his. `Had I come to your bed, I would have been a total idiot and would havediscovered the true meaning of the word "regret "’

 He inhaled sharply. `I made you anextremely generousoffer.'

 `Generous offer?Sorry, but I don't see what's generousabout inviting someone to have sex with you.' She'dlovedhim, for goodness' sake.Passionately.Deeply.To the exclu­sion of all others.She'd believed he'd loved her. `You're supposed to have a brilliant brain and a razor-sharp intellectbut you know absolutelynothingabout relationships or human emotions!'

 `Being my "mistress" as you so quaintly call it, would havecome with significant perks.'

 `So basically you were offering me money in exchange forsex.' Her voice was filled with derision. `There's a word for that, Tariq, and it isn't nice.'

 His proud head lifted and the flash of his eyes was areminder that he wasn't accustomed to being challenged. `Amarriage was not possible between us at that time.'

 `But now it is?' She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of hervoice but he didn't react.

 `Five years is a long time. You were very young. Much canbe forgiven.'

 `Maybe.But I'm not the one that needs forgiving here.' She was guilty of nothing more than being gullible and theinjustice of the situation stung her deeply. She forgot he was the ruling Sultan of an oil rich state and one of the mosteligible and influential men in the world. To Farrah, Tariq al-Sharma was just the man who had hurt her. She saw nofurther than that.Cared nothing for appearances or protocol. `You were utterly ruthless, Tariq. When I refused your "gen­erous offer", my father and I were forced to leave the coun­try.'

 His expression revealed nothing. `In the circumstances, it was not appropriate for you to stay.'

 She thought of the desert and the beaches. She thought ofthe golden temples and the dusty streets. She thought of themysteries of the souk and she thought of those precious earlymorning walks on the beach, warmed by the hot, hot sun. Shethought of the Caves of Zatua and the legend of Nadia andher Sultan. `For a short time it was my home. I loved it.Leaving was hard.'

 But not as hard as it had been to leave Tariq.

 She'd felt as though a huge part of her had been left behindin the desert.The only part of her that mattered. She'dbelieved that he loved her and the discovery that his feelings

 hadbeen no more than sexual had shattered her fragile self­confidence.

 `If you truly loved my country then you will be only toohappy to return.'

 I will never return.' For her, Tazkash was a place thatwould always be linked with him. A place where there weretoo many painful memories. `You're being ridiculous and Irefuse even to have this conversation with you. I'm not oneof your subjects or even one of your adoring women.' Andthere were plenty of those, she thought grimly. Women prepared to do just about anything to gain his attention.

 `Once,FarrahTyndall,' he said softly, the pad of his thumbbrushing over the fullness of her lower lip, `once, you beggedme to marry you. You couldn't wait to climb into my bed. Itwas I who slowed the pace because you were so young. Once,you adored me.'

 Her heart was thumping with rhythmic force against her chest. She didn't want to be reminded of just how open andhonest she'd been with him about her feelings. Most womenplayed it cool. At the age of eighteen, in love with a stagger­ingly sexy man, she hadn't understood the meaning of theword. How he must have laughed at her. `That was before Idiscovered that princes work better in fairy tales. Before I dis­covered what a cold, unfeeling bastard you are.'

 His head jerked back and his dark eyes narrowed in awarning. `Be careful. I have always allowed you more leewaythan most but no one speaks to me in such a way-'

 `Which just goes to show what an unsuitable wife I wouldmake.I thought you'd already made that discovery for yourself but it's good to remind you of that fact.' She shrugged her bareshoulders out of his jacket and handed it back to him. `Thanks,but I don't need this. I prefer to go inside to warm up.'

 He couldn't be serious about marrying her. Why would he be? She didn't understand what game he was playing, but sheknew she didn't want to be a part of it.

 Something flickered in his eyes.Something dangerous.`You will come with me.Now.' It was an unmistakablecommand and she gave a slight shiver of reaction.

 No one argued with Tariq-she should have rememberedthat. His authority was absolute. Once, his status alone hadbeen sufficient to render her tongue-tied, but not any more.She'd had plenty of time to reflect on what had happenedbetween them. And she'd grown up.

 `Why would I want to go anywhere with you?'She forcedherself to speak lightly. Forcedherself not to betray the effecthe had on her.`So that you can show me the way to paradise?I've been there once before, Tariq, and I think I must havetaken a wrong turning because, frankly, it wasn't up to much.Excuse me, I'm going back inside.'

 Long bronzed fingers caught her wrist in a steely grip. `Iwish to talk to you properly.In private.'

 `But I don't wish to talk to you in private, or in public,come to that. Five minutes in your company has been enoughto convince me that you haven't changed one bit so take myadvice and quit while you're only slightly behind.'

 His glance reflected barely contained frustration. `Youwillcome with me.'

 `Why?Because you order it? I don't wish to go anywherewith you so what are you going to do? Kidnap me?'

 His dark eyes were suddenly veiled. `I hardly think such extreme measures will be required.'

 She risked a glance at him and realized with a jolt that hewas deadly serious.He wanted her.Why? She wondereddesperately.Because she'd finally managed to reinventherself?Because, on the surface at least, she'd turned into thewoman her mother had always wanted her to be? `Do youreally think I'm going to walk back into your arms?’

 'If you're honest about your feelings, then yes.It's stillthere. Farrah-' he used his superior strength to hold her fastwhen she would have run `-you can feel it and so can I. AndI'm offering you what you've always wanted. Don't let achildish tantrum deprive you of your dream.'

 Her heart thundered against her chest. `Even for a sultan, youareinsufferablyarrogant,' she gasped, trying to ignore the tiny shockwaves that gripped her body. `And any dreams Imight have had about you ended five years ago. You had yourchance with me, Tariq, and you blew it. End of story.'

 Far from being disconcerted, his eyes gleamed and she re­membered too late that Tariq thrived on challenge. He was aman who hunted for obstacles just so that he could smashthem down and prove his superiority.

 `I am willing to play this your way for a while, Farrah,while you get used to the idea that we are going to be togetheragain. But as my future wife you must abide by a certain codeof behaviour. I understand you are to take part in the charityfashion show imminently.'

 Farrah stared at him blankly.The fashion show? She'd for­gotten all about the fashion show. The only thing on her mindsince he'd walked on to the terrace had been escape.Fromhim andfrom her jumbled feelings. Hisreminder of her com­mitment to the charity made her heart drop. She wasn't at allsure she could make it through another couple of hours, es­pecially not in such a public way. Everyone would be looking at her.Including Tariq.

 She opened her mouth to tell him that she was going tomake her excuses but his eyes flashed dark and menacing, hisebony brows drawn together in a disapproving frown.

 `I forbid you to take part.'

 `You forbid-?' The word made her temper simmer andsuddenly she struck on a foolproof way of removing him fromher life again. After all, wasn't her `inappropriate behaviour'one of the main reasons he'd cited for being unable to marryher? `You don't want me to be in the fashion show, Tariq?'Suddenly she realized that appearing in the fashion showwould be the perfect way of guaranteeing his rapid exit fromher life.

 `As my future wife, it would not be appropriate.'

  

  

 `Good, that settles it, then,' she said sweetly as she twistedher arm free of his grip, `because I intend to do the fashionshow. So perhaps you'd better look elsewhere for the wife you

 sodesperately need, Your Excellency.'

 He inhaled sharply, disbelief flickering in his dark eyes.`You persist in this ridiculous pretence that you're not inter­ested. Do you understand what it is that I am proposing?'

 `Proposing?' She tilted her head and her eyes sparkled withanger. `Sorry, I didn't actually hear a proposal. I heard youordering and forbidding and doing all the things that you'rereally,reallygood at. You're going to have to go and findsomeone else to command, Tariq, because I'm not interested.'

 Without giving him a chance to respond, she walked pasthis bodyguards, back through the ballroom and into the roomwhere they were frantically preparing for the fashion show.Her heart was thumping, her hands felt clammy and she feltphysically sick as she joined the other girls who were mod­

 ellingthat evening.

 His wife?

 Why would he say such a thing?

 Why on earth would he suddenly be talking aboutmarrying her after five years of silence? What was going on?And why did her body still respond even though she knewwhat sort of man he was?

 Like all addictive habits, she thought gloomily, you always wanted what was bad for you. And Tariq was extremely bad.

 'Farrah, thank goodness!'EnzoFranconi, the famousItalian designer, embraced her with relief. `We thought you'dgone home and I have the mostspectaculardress for you towear tonight. I predict that you will shine, you will positivelydazzle, you will-'

 `No dress.' Farrah's tone was grim as she slipped off hershoes and yanked the pins out of her hair. `Are you showingany swimwear, Enzo?' Her hair fell smooth and sleek down her back while Enzo gaped in astonishment.

 `Of course.But you never model swimwear. Always yourefuse to dress in anything so revealing.'

 Farrah's mind was on Tariq.On his proposal of marriage.He couldn't have been serious.It didn't make sense. `Well,tonight I'm not refusing. I'll wear whatever you've got-butpreferably the most shocking, daring thing in your collection.'

 She didn't understand what the Desert Prince was doinghere tonight. But there was one thing that she did know forsure. If she wore something revealing on the catwalk hewouldn't be bothering her again. A man as traditional andconservative as Tariq appreciated subtlety and dignity and shewas determined to offer neither. She was going to drive himaway by being as unsuitable as it was possible to be.

 `I do have something-' Enzo waved a hand in a gestureas nervous as it was excited `-but you wouldneveragreeto wear it.’

 'I'm sure it will be absolutely perfect.'Perfect to send Tariq as far away from her as possible.Once he had seen hermaking a display of herself in public he would march out ofthe room and she could get on with her life.

 Enzo prowled around her, unable to believe his luck. `Onyou-'he clapped his hands and an assistant came running tohis side `-it will look sensational. I predict that men willfaint.'

 `Well, let's hope so,' Farrah said flatly, allowing Enzo's as­sistant to unzip her dress, `and let's hope that one man in par­ticular bangs his head hard when he hits the floor.'

 `Who?'Enzo lifted a wisp of material in bright peacockblue from the rail next to him and then did a double take. `Isthat mud on your leg?'

 `What?' She glanced down and blushed. 'Oh-sorry-'she scrubbed it clean with her finger and Enzo gave a soft smile.

 `You have been helping those children in the ridingschool again-'

 Farrah glanced around her nervously to see who might belistening. `We had a little girl with cerebral palsy today,' shewhispered. `You should have seen her face when we put heron the horse, Enzo.' This man was herfriend, she remindedherself, one of the few people who she could trust with thesecret of her real life.

 `Marvellous,cara,’Enzo sighed and shook his head as hewatched her remove the final traces of mud. `But did you haveto bring the stables into the ballroom?'

 `I was held up so I changed in the car.' Farrah gave a dis­missive shrug and Enzo looked at her through narrowed eyes.

 `So now tell me why you are suddenly wearing a swim­ming costume. It is about a man, obviously. You wish tomake him jealous, no?’

 'Jealous?' Staring at the costume on the hanger, she shookher head in disbelief, wondering how so little materialactually attached itself to the body. `No, I don't want to makehim jealous. I want to make him run.'

 She didn't want him in her life a second time.

 Enzo frowned. `Then take my advice and do not wearthis costume. There is not a man alive who will run havingseen you dressed in this. You will find yourself with theopposite problem.'

 `You don't know this man. Give it to me.' Farrah held outa hand. `I'll get changed behind the curtain.'

 'Farrah,tesoro-'Enzo's tone was dry as he relinquishedthe garment `-if you need to get dressed behind a curtain,then thatis notthe costume for you.'

 `If it serves its purpose then it will be fine.' Dressed onlyin her underwear, she walked in bare feet into the makeshift cubicle.`Oh, and Enzo, ask someone to find me spectacularshoes.High heels.Reallyhigh heels.'

 Enzo's eyes gleamed and he kissed the ends of hisfingers in a gesture of approval. `Almost, I feel sorry forthis man.'

 `I don't need you to feel sorry for him. I just need youto make me look shocking. I need to be unsuitable wife ma­terial.' She jerked the curtain across and her couragefaltered. What the hell was she doing? Adrenaline surgedthrough her body, fuelling her determination to go throughwith her plan. Before reason could take over and she could change her mind, she removed her underwear and wriggledinto the costume.'Enzo? Are you out there? This thingdoesn't fit-'

 The designer pulled back the curtain and sighed. `Not likethat-' He stepped forward and made several adjustmentsthat had Farrah blushing. `Better.Much better. And nowthis-' He flung a transparent filmy wrap over her shouldersand she looked at it with a frown.

 `I don't want to cover up.'

 `This covers nothing,' Enzo said dryly, his hands tweakingand coaxing the fabric until he was satisfied. `It is designedto draw the eye. To tempt and tease.' He narrowed his gaze, nodded with approval and then snapped his fingers towardshis assistant who was hovering at a discreet distance.`Shoes?'

 Farrah gave a wry smile as she slipped her feet into a pairof designer shoes with delicate straps and vertiginous heels.`This is all going to be wasted if I fall off the shoes, breakmy neck and give myself two black eyes in the process.'

 `Never.'Enzo frowned and stood back as the hairdressertook over. `Leave it loose. Yes. Like that. She looks sensa­tional. I predict that the costume will be this season's bigseller.' He glanced at Farrah with a smile. `You wear heelsthat high all the time. You will not fall.'

 Farrah thought of the muddy riding boots in the back ofthe family limousine. `Not all the time.'

 Finally Enzo was satisfied and he stood back with a nod. `Itisperfect. You are perfect, and totally wasted in this life of yours.'

 They shared a secret smile and impulsively Farrah leanedforward to give her friend a hug. `You've helped me somuch,' she whispered. `You taught me how to dress, how towalk, how to-'

 `Enough-' Enzo waved a hand to stop her but there waspleasure in his smile. `I had good material to work with. You could be a model,cara.'

 `No, thanks.'Farrah walked towards the entrance wherethe other girls were lining up and Enzo caught her arm.

 'Not like that! You are walking as if you are angry and outfor revenge and I taught you better than that! Your eyes sparkand your mouth pouts. You look as though you're going tokillsomeone, not seduce them.'

 Farrah wondered what he'd say if he knew how close tothe truth he was. She was angry.Angry and hurt.

 `This costume is about being a woman.' Enzo gave her aslow smile. `Your eyes should say "look at me", your mouthshould say "kiss me" and your walk should say-'

 `Yes, all right,' Farrah interrupted him quickly. `I think Iget the message.' She sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

 After all, wasn't that an even better way of displaying heranger to Tariq? For a man like him, displaying herself insuch a public place would be enough to make him stalktowards the exit without a backward glance in her direction.The music pulsed and she took her position near theentrance to the catwalk.

 Tariq was in for a shock.

  

 Still coming to terms with the fact that his first ever proposalof marriage had met with a decidedly unenthusiastic response, Tariq lounged in his seat in brooding silence,waiting for the fashion show to begin.

 It was typical, he mused with growing tension, that sheshould refuse to turn down an opportunity to flauntherself inpublic. It was one of the reasons that their relationship hadfloundered in the first place. He'd been able to see too much of the mother in the girl. The exact details ofSylviaTyndall'searly death had been kept out of the press, but her incessant wildpartying had supported the rumours that her death had beenlinked with drugs or alcohol or possibly a mixture of the two.

 If anything, Farrah appeared to have grown even morelike her mother over the years.

 His long fingers drummed a slow, steady rhythm on thetable as he pondered their encounter on the terrace.

 All traces of the innocent girl he'd met on the beach hadgone. But why should that surprise him? The young girlwho'd captivated him so completely had been nothing morethan an illusion. At that particular point in his life he'd beenjaded and unsettled and he'd been ensnared by her fresh, un­spoiled enthusiasm for life. He'd enjoyed her sense of humour and unguarded response to him. She'd appeared to be refresh­ ingly unaware of her own breathtaking beauty. He'd foundher to be modest and even a little shy.Uninterested in materialthings or in glamorous social gatherings.

 But events had proved him wrong on so many counts.

 Everything had changed from the moment they'd movedfrom the desert to his palace.

 Gone had been the respectable mode of dress and the caring attitude. In its place a woman who'd appeared to carefor nothing except her appearance.A woman who'd gone toenormous efforts to shock those around her.A woman who'd wanted to do nothing but party.

 In a sense that had made her easier to deal with because he'd been dealing with women like her for almost all of hislife.Women who played games.Women who traded beautyfor other, more tangible, benefits, from extravagant gifts toan excellent marriage.

 He skimmed a glance over the women who were nowstrutting down the catwalk, but only to ensure that none ofthem was Farrah.

 He knew her well enough to realize that his request thatshe abandon the fashion show would be met by defiance but,even so, her entrance, made even more dramatic by the useof spotlights and pumping rock music, took him by surprise.

 Her golden hair flowed long and loose over her shouldersand was the only thing that kept the dramatic swimmingcostume even vaguely decent.

 There was a collective murmur of appreciation from themen in the room and by his sideHasimAkbarmade a stran­gled sound. In contrast, Tariq sat still, the flicker of a musclein his cheek the only indication of his soaring stress levels.

 The music pounded in a hypnotic rhythm that was un­ashamedly sexual and she started to walk in time to the beat,her movements graceful and seductive. It shouldn't have beenpossible to walk on the heels she was wearing but she madeit look natural, as if she'd been born with high, slender spikesattached to her feet.

 The swimsuit was cleverly cut to expose her long, longlegs, her narrow waist and the tempting thrust of her breasts.A diaphanous wrap floated around her body, giving theillusion that she was walking through mist.

 She was a vision of feminine perfection, every man'sfantasy, and Tariq felt sharp claws of lust drag through hisloins.

 A temporary marriage came with definite benefits, heconceded. Not only would he gain ownership of the sharesthat were crucial for the future of his country, but he wouldhaveFarrahTyndall naked and at his disposal for forty daysand forty nights. As newly-weds he could justifiably keep hertrapped in his bed and then he would divorce her before shehad the opportunity to embarrass him the way she was em­ barrassing him now.

 On the opposite side of the catwalk a man half rose to hisfeet, a look of naked longing in his eyes.

 Devoured by ever increasing tension, Tariq discovered ahitherto untapped possessive streak deep within himself.

 She was inviting male attention, he thought grimly, and shewas doing it to taunt him. It was clear to him that she was still sulking over his rejection five years previously.

 He lounged in his chair, simmering with ever increasinganger as he watched what he perceived to be a deliberateattempt to provoke him.

 But, instead of making him stride from the room, her in­tentionally provocative display merely served to reconcile him finally to the concept of marriage.

 He was determined to make her his.

 He should have done it five years ago, he mused inbrooding silence, but instead he'd respected her innocence.He'd valued her purity. Had taken his time, the better tosavour the moment when he would finally make her his.

 Clearly his restraint had been wasted since she appearedto place no such value on herself.

 She reached the end of the catwalk, dropped a hip in a posedeliberately designed to inflame and finally she directed hergaze in his direction. Green eyes locked on his in blatant challenge.

 Try and stop me,her gaze said, and Tariq rose to his feetin a fluid movement, determined to do exactly that.

 Anger roared inside him like a wild, untamed beast andhe stepped onto the catwalk, ignoring the astonished scrambleof his security team as they attempted to intercept him.

 Without uttering a word, he swung her into his arms and strode out of the ballroom without glancing left or right. Hewas boiling and angry and he realized that he hadn't knownthe true meaning of the wordpossessiveuntil that moment.

 'Tariq-'Her voice was a shocked breathless pant as shepushed at his shoulders. `What are you doing?'

 Her words irritated him because they drew attention tothe fact that for the first time in his life he'd acted withoutthought.He didn't know what he was doing.His actionshad nothing to do with reason and everything to do withsome dark, primitive need to remove her from the line ofsight of every man in the room. If it had been within hispower, he would have removed her from their minds andfantasies too, but the man in him knew that it was alreadytoo late for that. She'd ensured herself a place in everyerotic dream.

 The thought made him tighten his grip in raw, nakedjealousy and she wriggled.

 `Put me down!'

 He was sorely tempted to do just that. Every part of himthat mattered was in contact with smooth, warm femaleflesh-female flesh that squirmed in protest against certainvital parts of his body. Something dark and primitive brokeloose and anger flared inside him.

 Anger at her for deliberately provoking him.

 Anger at himself for responding in such a predictablefashion.

 Always, in her company, he found himself facing parts of himself that he didn't want to acknowledge, Tariq thought with grim honesty.

 `You chose to invite attention,laeela-'he tried to ignorethe low, throbbing ache that threatened to test his legendaryself-control `-and now you have it.' He strode through the opulent foyer, through revolving doors and out to the streetwhere his car awaited his return.

 She weighed virtually nothing, he thought, as he all butthrust her into the car and delivered instructions to his driverin a clipped, angry tone.

 'Tariq, I'm not going with you-'

 'Be silent!' Still seething, he shrugged out of his jacketfor the second time that evening and dropped it into her lap.`Put this on.'

 `I don't-'

 `Cover yourself!' The ferocity of his tone shocked evenhim so he could hardly blame her for shrinking back in her seat. Her reaction shamed him because whatever his faults,he had never struck a woman and never would. He was a manwho prided himself on his self-control and yet at that precisemoment he wanted to kill someone. `You are barely dressed,'he said flatly, turning his head so that he didn't have to lookat the confusion in her eyes. He didn't want to feel sympathy.Didn't want to feel anything.`When we reach my home, mystaff will find you something more suitable to wear.'

 Preferably something that covered every inch of her.

 She glared at him. `You're behaving like a caveman.'

 `If I were a caveman then I would have followed my baser instincts and stripped you naked in the ballroom when you allbut begged me to do so,' he said silkily, `and you would nowbe lying naked on one of those tables and your pleasure would be so great that you would be sobbing and begging for mercy.'

 Her soft gasp of shock was at odds with her provocativeappearance. `I would never beg you for anything,' she saidhoarsely, but her gaze held his for a fraction longer than nec­essary and his gaze hardened.

 Experience told him that she was clearly not indifferentto him, no matter how much she would have liked that tobe the case.

 The attraction between them was as strong as ever and hewas willing to overlook her less appealing traits in order tohave her naked in his bed.

 The marriage might be short lived, Tariq mused silently, ~ut sexually it promised to be full-on and immensely satisfying.

 `I don't want to go anywhere with you. Just drop me home,please.' Her tone was flat but she slipped her arms into thejacket and closed it around her. She was so slender that itwould have been possible to fit two of her inside but she wasalso tall and the jacket did nothing to conceal the temptinglength of her legs. Clearly aware of that fact, she pressed herknees together and slid her legs closer to the seat.

 Tariq gave a predatory smile. `It's a little late for modesty,don't you think?' For some reason the sight of her bare, beau­tiful legs served to reignite the anger that he'd only justmanaged to subdue. `Charity balls have certainly taken an in­teresting turn since I was last inEngland. Is it suddenly a nec­essary requirement for the guests to reveal all?'

 She didn't glance in his direction. `It was all in a goodcause.'

 `If you're trying to persuade me that you really care aboutthe charity then you're wasting your time. We both know thatyou just seize on any excuse to dress up and flaunt yourself in public.'

 Like mother like daughter

 `That's right.' She turned her head towards him, heramazing green eyes glittering in the semi-darkness, her blondhair falling sleek and smooth over his jacket. `I spend all daylying in bed resting so that I have enough energy to get myselfthrough another night of drink-fuelled partying. Isn't thatright, Tariq? Isn't that the person I am?'

 She looked so innocent,he mused as his eyes rested on thetempting curve of her soft mouth. Nothing like a womanwho'd turned flirting into an art form or a woman who wasonly interested in expanding the contents of her alreadybulging wardrobe.

 `Don't try and provoke me,' he warned softly. `Next time youwish to support a cause then let me know and I will write thema large cheque. It will save you the bother of stripping off.'

 `I'll do as I please.' She lifted her chin and glared at him.`Life is all about money to you, isn't it?All about power andinfluence.Well, I don't need your money and your powerdoesn't interest me. I don't needanythingat all from you. Theway I act, the way I behave, is nothing to do with you. You don't know me and you never did.' The words were thrown at him with careless indifference but he sensed the growing tension in her, saw her amazing green eyes darken as some­ thing live and dangerous snapped taut between them.

 The car sped through the night, smooth and silent, the darkness of the interior ensuring their privacy and increasingthe intimacy.

 Suddenly stifled by it, Tariq lifted a hand and tugged at histie, opening the top two buttons of his shirt with a deft movement of his lean, strong fingers. She followed themovement with her gaze, caught his eye for a single tensemoment and then looked away. The silken fall of her hair con­cealed her face but only after he'd seen thecolour pour intoher cheeks.

 The atmosphere was pulled tight with a sexual tension sopowerful that the air throbbed and hummed.

 And he knew she felt it too because he saw the rapidmovement of her slender throat as she swallowed, saw herfingers clutch his jacket around her like a shield. In a self­conscious gesture she tried to tuck her legs away but therewas nowhere to put them.Nowhere to hide.

 `Stoplooking at me, Tariq: Her hoarse plea brought a faintsmile to his lips and dampened some of the anger inside him.

 Her almost childish plea confirmed his belief that she wassuffering as much as he was. Evidently she wasn't as indif­ferent as she chose to appear.

 `That outfit is an invitation to a man to look. It wasdesigned entirely for that purpose,' he said smoothly, allowinghis eyes to roam freely over her bare legs. `Presumably youknew that when you chose to wear it.'

 Her knuckles whitened as she clenched her hands in her lap. `I wore it to annoy you!'

 He gave a slow smile. `Then you don't know much aboutmen,laeela.In public, such an outfit would indeed annoy mebut now we are in private my feelings are entirely different.'

 `I'm not interested in your feelings.'

 `No? We never found out, didwe ,laeela?'He leanedtowards her and gently brushed her hair away from her face, revealing her exquisite profile. `We never found out how wewould be together. We dreamed and we danced around theedges of passion-those stolen meetings on the beach,kissing in the Caves of Zatua-all that foreplay-' His gazedropped to her lips and lingered there. `Five years. I havewaited for five years to have that question answered.'

 She turned her head then, her breathing rapid. `Then I hopeyou're a patient man because you're going to be waiting for therest of your life and still you won't find out. I'm not one of yourtoys, Tariq. I'm not yours to command. I'm not a fancy car youcan buy or a jet you can fly. You can't just decide to have me.'

 `Yes, I can. I have only to touch you and you will be mine.'He wound a strand of hair around his finger. `And you wantthat every bit as much as I do.'

 Her eyes stared into his, hypnotized. `Not true,' shecroaked. `I don't want that. And your ego is sickening.'

 `A ruler with no confidence in himself does not inspire theloyalty and devotion of his people,' he said huskily, movinghis body closer to hers, `and we both know that my ego isnot the problem here. Your feelings are the problem.Orrather, your insistence on denying them.Despite what yousay to the contrary, you're mentally undressing me and you're wondering how our bodies will move together when we’re finally in bed. You’re wondering how it will feel when I’m inside you.

 He watched the movement of her slender throatas sheswallowed,saw the flash of shock in her eyes, the hint of ex­citement in those green depths. `Stop it.' Her voice was atortured whisper. `I want you to stop it, now.'

 His eyes gleamed dark with amusement. `Do you think I wasunaware of your feelings? At eighteen your sexual curiosity was hard to conceal. You hadn't learned to play games,laeela.Youreyes followed me everywhere and when I came near you, you felt an excitement so intense that you ceased to breathe.'

 She blushed again. `You are so arrogant.'

 `I am honest.' He sat back in his seat, more than satisfiedwith her response. `Which is more than you are. Five years ago I met the girl. Now I am eager to discover the woman.And this time we will not be flirting on the edge of passion,laeela,but plunging hard into its fiery depths.'

 She really was astonishingly beautiful,he mused as hewatched confusion flicker over her heart-shaped face as sheregistered his sexually explicit analogy. The prospect ofmarriage was growing more appealing by the minute. Hewas even starting to wonder whether forty days and fortynights would be long enough.

 `I won't go with you, Tariq.'

 `I hate to point out the obvious,' he said with gentleemphasis, `but youare with me.'

 `A mistake that I intend to rectify immediately.'Sheglanced out of the window and her eyes widened. She turnedher head for an explanation, panic in her eyes.`The airport?What are we doing at the airport?'

 `As I said, I am taking you home.My home. We are goingto Tazkash.' He leaned forward to speak to his driver and thenturned back towards the woman who was trying to open the car door.‘Enough of playing games. I’m going to make you my wife, Farrah. And then I’m going to take you to my bed and keep you there for as long as it suits me.’

  

 CHAPTER THREE

  

 FARRAHsat in one of the soft leather seats inside his private jet, her slim body tense with panic as she struggled to find away out of the current situation. She ignored the staffwho dis­creetly provided for her every need and ignored Tariq whosprawled, relaxed and infuriatingly calm, in the seat next toher.

 She was just so angry with him. He was high-handed,controlling, dictatorial- Her brain thumping with anger, sheran out of adjectives before she could compile a decent list.

 But most of all she was furious with herself.Howcouldshe have got herself into this position?

 How could she have forgotten what he was like?

 He was arrogant and autocratic and used to dictating hisdesires to an audience of followers whose only purpose in lifewas to do his bidding.

 It had been foolish of her to provoke him, she knew thatnow.

 When he'd half flung her into the back of his limousine,she'd been so angry and churned up inside that all heremotions had been focused on him, rather than the situation. She'd given no thought whatsoever to where they were going.

 When he'd said that he intended to take her to his home,she should have realized that he meant Tazkash. She should have remembered that he never played games and should have been instantly on the alert. When he'd said he intendedto take her somewhere private to talk, she should have madeher excuses and run, hidden.

 Not taunted him.

 Would she have climbed into a cage with a tiger and pokedhim with a stick? No, of course she wouldn't! And yet she'das good as done exactly that with Tariq.

 The more she told him that she wasn't interested, the morehe seemed determined to make her his.

 Why hadn't she remembered that no one ever won in a fight against the Desert Prince? How could they when hehad so many weapons at his disposal? A sharp brain­-astonishing mental agility had been her father's observa­tion-and exceptional diplomatic skills. And if all else failed he had only to resort to power. He just gave an order and it was done.Instantly.Without question.

 Which was how she now found herself sitting in his plane,forced to do his bidding.

 She'd been so astonished to discover that their journey hadtaken them to the airport, so distracted by the growing tensionbetween them, that she'd been urged up the steps and on to hiswaiting jet before she'd had time to formulate an escape plan.

 The humiliation of walking on to the plane half naked hadbeen intensified by the total absence of reaction on the partof his staff. It was obvious that they were accustomed toseeing Tariq arrive with a virtually naked woman in tow.

 For some reason she couldn't identify, the knowledge in­furiated her.

 As did the way they'd bowed low and shown her into aspacious dressing room filled with a selection of clothes.They'd indicated that they were expected to help her to dressbut she'd been stared at by enough people to last her a lifetimeand rejected assistance in favour of privacy.

 Clearly Tariq made a habit of transporting half-nakedfemales, she'd thought angrily as she'd rummaged throughthe rails and settled on a silk trouser suit. It was high at theneck and long in the leg and, after the way he'd been lookingat her in thecar, that was all that mattered to her.

 And now she was sitting next to him again, this time witha thin covering of silk to protect her legs from his masculineand blatantly sexual appraisal. It was dark outside and the dim lights of the cabin created an atmosphere of intimacy that made her thoroughly on edge.

 She'd never wanted to see Tariq again.

 And yet here she was.Closeted with him in the stiflingintimacy of his private jet.Could anything be worse?

 `Take me home, Tariq.' She turned her head to look at him,her voice cold. `Take me home now.'

 `I'm taking you to Tazkash.Your new home.'

 `You can't just suddenly decide to marry someone.'

 His smile was infuriatingly patient. `Unlike some people,I don't have a problem with decision-making. I know what Iwant. Indecisiveness is not a trait that I value in others andeven less so in myself.'

 She tried another tack. `My father will never allow it.'

 `Your father is heavily involved in a project inSiberiaandis currently out of contact,' he said smoothly. `I understandthat the project is extremely complex and taking all of histime. You are not currently his priority.'

 She swallowed. Did he know everything? `I can alwaysreach my father.'

 `And say what?' Tariq accepted two glasses from a stew­ardess and handed one to Farrah. `That you are marrying me?He knows how much you wanted me. He would probablyoffer his congratulations.'

 Farrah swallowed. `You think you're such a matrimonialprize, don't you?'

 Tariq smiled. `I see the facts as they are. Dissembling and false modesty are a waste of time and not part of my nature.'

 `Has it occurred to you that I don't want to marry you?’

 'Why would it? Once, you could think of nothing else. Do you remember that first day that we met?' His voice was low and seductive.`On the beach with the sun rising on the dunesbehind us?'

 She stared at him for a long moment and then turned herhead away.

 Oh, yes, she remembered.

 It had been on that very first morning in Nazaar, thedesert camp situated on the edge of the desert, bordered bysand and sea.

 Her father had flown out to negotiate the terms of a majordeal and she'd accompanied him. She'd been eighteen yearsold, still grieving for her mother, who had died six monthspreviously, and still trying to be the daughter that her parentshad always wanted.

 She'd been walking on the beach, keen to explore her newhome...

  

 `You are an early riser,MissTyndall.'

 The deep male voice came from directly behind her and she turned from her dreamy contemplation of the red golddunes that rose upwards to hundreds of feet. Here, at Nazaar,the sea washed right up to the dunes, licking the edges of adesert that stretched far into the distance. It was a placedesigned for fantasy and dreaming, as was the man standingfacing her. He stood well over six feet, his shoulders broadand muscular, his arms folded across his chest as he surveyedher with a masculine assurance that brought a soft gasp of awareness to her lips.

 The subtle lift of an eyebrow was sufficient to tell her thather reaction had not gone unnoticed and she cursed herselffor being so obvious. Any woman would have done the same, she told herself, struggling not to drool at the sight of the manwatching her.Especially a woman who curled up in bed atnight, dreaming of romance.

 He was darkly exotic and staggeringly good-looking.From the proud angle of his nose and jaw to the fierce flashof his eyes, he was a man very much at home in the harsh­ness of his surroundings. He was dressed in traditional robes,but they failed to conceal the athletic power of his physiqueor the width of his shoulders and the way he held himself sug­ gested a confidence and sophistication that went far beyond that of a simple man of the desert.

 An unfamiliar emotion sprang to life inside her and beganto sizzle and burn.

 Fear?Excitement?Perhaps a mixture of both--certainlythis man was unlike any she'd met before.

 An ebony brow lifted and he folded his arms across hischest, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes as he responded to her scrutiny. `It is rude to stare,MissTyndall .'

 `How do you know my name?' His gaze was disturbinglyintent and she felt suddenly breathless and ridiculously self-­ conscious. `I suppose a Western woman staying in Nazaar isunlikely to go unnoticed.' It was a place ofbusiness, her fatherhad told her that. And in the oil rich state of Tazkash, businesswas the responsibility of men.Especially when it was royalbusiness.

 The hint of a smile touched his hard mouth. `I think you areunlikely to go unnoticed in any part of the world,MissTyn­dall.'

 It wasn't the compliment that made her skin prickle asmuch as the frankly sexual appraisal she read in the depthsof those dark, dark eyes.

 It wasn't the first time a man had shown interest in her, but it was the first time anyone had done so in such a blatantmanner. Obviously his ego was well developed, she thoughtweakly as the wind picked up a strand of her hair and flungit across her face. She lifted a hand to anchor it behind her ear and discovered that she was shaking.

 Still his gaze didn't waver. It was as if...as if he weremaking a decision about something. And she had the oddestfeeling that the decision involved her in some way.

 No, that was ridiculous.

 Following her own preference, she was respectably anddiscreetly dressed but there was something about the look inhis eyes that made her feel naked.Exposed.Vulnerable.

 `So I'm not the only one who enjoys the beach early in themorning.' To disguise how unsettled she felt, she waved ahand and gave him a bright smile. `It's fabulous here, isn'tit? I can't believe that the sea meets the desert like this-it's like one giant beach-'She could hear herself chattering andcut herself off. She always talked too much when she wasnervous. And the more she talked, the more likely she was tosay the wrong thing.

 His gaze didn't shift from her face. `You like our country,MissTyndall?'

 `Well, I haven't seen much of it,' she confided regretfully.

 `My father is always too busy to accompany me. He spendsthe entire day in meetings with the Desert Prince.

 Something flickered in those dark, exotic eyes. `You havemet the Prince?’

 'No. But that's probably just as well.' She gave a littleshrug. `I wouldn't know what to say to a prince. My father'safraid I'd say the wrong thing at the wrong time and causeoffence. It's my special gift. I don't want to blow his deal outof the water so I'm keeping my head down and my mouthshut and restricting my explorations to a few walks on thebeach.'

 `That sounds tediously boring.' There was amusement inhis dark gaze. `Perhaps the Prince would find it refreshing tobe with a woman who speaks her mind.'

 `Don't count on it,' Farrah said gloomily. `My fatheralways says it's my biggest failing. My mouth moves beforemy brain. I'm trying to learn to do it the other way round, butso far it's not working. Mental and verbal coordination aren'treally my thing.'

 He threw his head back and laughed. It was a rich mascu­line sound. `Are you interested in seeing more of our country,MissTyndall?'

 `Of course.But it isn't that simple, unfortunately.'`Why not?'

 She frowned slightly. `Well, I can't just take off into thedesert on my own.'

 `I agree that to go alone would be foolhardy, but withcompany it would be a different matter.'

 She stared at him. `Is that possible?'

 He angled his proud head as if the question were super­fluous.`Of course. Anything can be arranged if the desire isthere. Is there anything in particular you wish to see?' Hisvoice was deep and smooth and she wondered where he'dlearned to speak such perfect English.

 `I want to visit the Byzantine fort at Giga, but mostly-'she turned and looked out across the desert, her expressiondreamy `-mostly I want to see the Caves of Zatua.'

 She wanted to see the place where Nadia was said to havemet her love.

 `You are familiar with the legend of Zatua?'

 Of course she was familiar with the legend. She preferredit to any fairy story she'd ever heard because it was so passion­ate, so heartbreaking and soreal.She'd positivelyachedforNadia and wanted to strangle the Sultan for his foolishness.

 Thinking of it now, she stared at the rich, exotic colour ofthe dunes. She could imagine it all so clearly. `A local girlfell madly in love with a man only to discover that he wasactually the Sultan, who had been spending time incognito among her tribe. He loved her too, but her status was so farbeneath his that they were forced to keep their relationship secret. So they met in the Caves of Zatua.' She turned backto him, her green eyes misty with emotion as she retold thestory that had captivated her for so long. `Then their meetingswere discovered. The Sultan wasn't prepared to challenge the expectations of his people and marry her, so he ended the re­lationship. She was so devastated that she killed herself ratherthan be with another man.'

 There was amusement in his dark gaze. `I think the legendhas been modified slightly over the years,' he said dryly. `Itwould have been a fairly simple act on the part of the Sultanto have the girl brought into the Harem. I see no compellingreason why the relationship had to be played out in a dark cave.And no reason at all for her to end her life when shecould have been his favourite.But the tourists like the story.It has a certain tragic romance about it that they find attrac­tive.'

 Farrah frowned at his dismissive tone. `But Nadia lovedhim. She didn't want to be just his mistress. She wanted tobe his wife. Perhaps she refused to enter the Harem.'

 `To be the Sultan's mistress would have been considereda great honour,' he said smoothly, his eyes fixed on her face,`and one which no woman would ever wish to turn down.'

 `Good enough for bed but not to wed? Well, I don't thinkit's that big an honour! I mean the Harem is just about sex, isn'tit, and-'Realizing what she'd said, she broke off and blushed,disturbed by the indulgent humour she saw in his gaze. `All right, so maybe I'm getting a little carried away-'

 `I am beginning to understand your father's concerns. Yourmouth definitely moved before your brain on that occasion,MissTyndall.'

  

 She chewed her lip and brushed her hair away from herface. `It's just that I can't actually see the honour in justclimbing into bed with someone until they get tired of you.' Was he shocked? He didn't look shocked, she thought.Just amused and perhaps a little thoughtful. `Why would you dothat if you were in love? It's insulting. A woman wants somuch more than that.'

 `He was the Sultan.' He lifted his dark head, the gestureboth arrogant and dominant. `He could never have married awoman whose status in life was so far beneath his. It wouldnot have been possible. She would not have been suitable.'

 `If they were in love then it shouldn't have mattered,' she said passionately,`Nothingshould have mattered. He shouldhave thrown away his kingdom for her if that was what it tookfor them to be together!'

 `And what about his responsibility to his people?’

 'Surely they would have wanted their Sultan to be happy?'

 He stared at her for a long moment, the expression in hisdark eyes veiled by thick, dark lashes. `You make it sound very simple,MissTyndall.'

 She flushed. `Itshouldhave been simple. If he'd trulyloved her, then he would have done anything to be with her.'

 There was a long silence and then his eyes narrowed.`How old are you?'

 She stiffened, aware that she'd said far, far too much. `Iwas eighteen last week, actually. But I don't see what that hasto do with anything.' Should she apologize? Should she­—

 'You are very young and you have a naive, romantic viewof life.And of love.' He studied her at length and gave a smile and the unexpected charm of that smile made her heart leapinto her throat. `Let's hope you are never given cause torethink your idealistic view of the world,MissTyndall.'

 `Do you work with the prince? Do you know him well?'

 There was an ironic gleam in his eyes. `Well enough.'

 And suddenly she knew who he was and closed her eyesin mortification. `Oh, no-'

 `You can stop worrying,' he said smoothly. `Despite whatyou are thinking, you said nothing to embarrass eitheryourself or your father. I found your frankness unusually re­freshing.'

 Farrah stood still, feeling hideously self-conscious andmore socially inept than usual. Since her mother's death she'd struggled to be more at ease in social situations, but she'd hadno experience with royalty and suddenly she felt tongue-tied.`You're here to negotiate the pipeline deal with my father,'she muttered as she searched for something meaningful tosay. `Your father, the Sultan, doesn't want the pipeline to bebuilt. He wants things to stay as they've always been but thecountry needs to develop more wealth.'

 `You appear to be an expert on the politics of Tazkash.'

 Farrah bit her lip and remembered too late her mother'sirritation whenever she'd overheard her talking about whatshe called `serious subjects.'

 Trying to redeem herself, she gave a vague smile. `It wouldcertainly be nice to see more of the scenery while I'm here,'she muttered, deliberately playing down her keen interest in history and architecture.

 There was a brief pause. `I would be honoured to actasyour escort,MissTyndall ,' he said gravely. `It will be arranged.'

 And just like that, it was.

 A maid came to her tent just before dawn on the follow­ing morning and presented her with suitable clothing. Thenshe was escorted to a four-wheel drive vehicle.

 Lounging in the driver's seat was the man she'd met onthe beach. Only this time he was dressed casually in jeans andan open-necked shirt.

 He greeted her with a smile and a faint bow of his glossy,dark head. `MissTyndall. I trust you slept well.'

 Actually she hadn't slept much at all and what little sleepshe'd had, had been haunted by dreams of Nadia and her Sultan.For some reason the dream had been disturbingly explicit.

 Pushing the memory aside, she climbed in next to him. `Isit just the two of us? You're driving me yourself?'

 `Why not?’

 'I presumed a prince would be surrounded by bodyguards.'

 His gaze lingered on hers for a moment and then he shiftedthe vehicle into gear and drove towards the road that led directly into the desert. `Occasionally that is necessary, ofcourse, but not for this trip. It is a two hour drive to theFortress at Giga. We will have breakfast when we get there.'

 She turned to him, excited at the prospect of visiting sucha historic site, forgetting her resolve to be careful what she said.`You give a lot of orders, don't you?A bit like my Dad. He suffers from a controlling personality too. I'm always tellinghim off for giving commands instead of making requests.'

 `If business was conducted through a series of requests,not much would be achieved.'

 `That's rubbish.' She frowned as she fastened her seat belt.`Everyone knows that you get more from people if they buyinto an idea. Giving orders simply turns people off.'

 `Am I turning you off,MissTyndall?'

 Something in his silky tone made her heart skip and danceand she resisted the urge to gulp loudly. `I-you-I'm verypleased you're showing me round,' she finished weakly andhe gave a slow smile.

 `I'll try and remember to request rather than command and you need to keep that mouth of yours from misbehaving.' Hisgaze dropped from her eyes to her lips and she felt an almostagonizing pull deep inside her.

 `I don't even know what to call you.Your Highness?'His gaze lingered on her mouth and then he turned his at­tention back to the road. `You can call me Tariq.'

 And so her life changed.

 Every morning she dressed quickly and hurried outsideand into the four-wheel drive, eager to discover where he wastaking her that day.

 But by the end of the first week she'd stopped dreaming about Nadia and her Sultan and her nights were filled withhot, disturbingly erotic dreams about her own man from the desert.Tariq.

 By the end of the month, she was in love.

 They talked about everything and she forgot that she wastrying to learn not to be so frank. Under that compelling darkgaze she revealed everything that she thought and felt.

 Revealed everything about the person she was.

 And then, finally, he took her to the Caves of Zatua.

 `It is a strange place to conduct a love affair, is it not?' Hisvoice was husky in the semi-darkness as he led her deeper and deeper into the caves. `One would imagine that theycould have found somewhere more conducive to romance.'

 `I think it's terribly romantic.' She stared up at the jagged rock and tried to imagine how Nadia must have felt. `And itwas the only place she could be with her Sultan without thepeople knowing.'

 His dark eyes glittered with amusement. `You have takenour legend to your heart, it would seem.'

 `It's a sad story-'She stopped and looked around her, lis­tening to the strange noises that were part of the cave. `Iwonder if she was everscared? Waiting for her lover in thisdark, empty place-'

 `Are you scared,MissTyndall?' His voice was velvetysmooth and she gave a shiver, aware of his powerful bodyclose to hers.

 `No.'

 `Then why are you shaking?' His hand found hers inthe semi-darkness and she swallowed nervously, althoughwhether that was from the effects of her surroundings or thetouch of his hand on hers, she wasn't sure. `Do people everget lost in here?’

 'I don't know.' His smile flashed, teasing and dangerous.`We could search for bodies if you like and then we will know.'

 `Very funny, I'm sure.' The confined space and diffusedlight created an intimacy that was almost stifling in its inten­sity. She was aware of his strong grip on her hand, of thefrantic beating of her heart and the dryness of her mouth. `Doyou think this is where they met?’

 'Possibly.Can you imagine Nadia entwined in the armsof her Sultan?'

 The image exploded in her brain with frightening clarityand she swallowed and stared at the dusty floor of the cave.Oh, yes, she could imagine that.`You think it was here-?’

 'Deep in the caves was the only place they could beassured of the privacy they needed. Here, they were totallyalone.' His voice was a low seductive purr and she suddenlydiscovered that she'd stopped breathing. `Here they were nolonger a Sultan and his mistress, but a man and a woman.'

 She swallowed. 'Nadia should have known that the Sultanwould reject her.'

 `He didn't reject her.' His mouth was close to her ear, his breath warm on her cheek. `He offered her the role of hismistress.'

 She couldn't breathe. `It was an insult. True love deserves a better outlet than hot sex.'

 `And yet the power of hot sex is not to be underestimated,would you not agree, Farrah?' He turned her to face him, hishands hard and demanding on her shoulders. `The feelingsbetween a man and a woman are sometimes so powerful thatthey transcend common sense. Those feelings become theonly thing that matter.'

 She stared up at him, his dark, compelling gaze holding her captive. Shocked by the intensity of feelings that washed through her body, she felt suddenly dizzy and disorientated.

 His mouth hovered tantalizingly close to hers and some­thing hot and delicious uncurled low in her stomach. Afrantic, breathless anticipation exploded inside her and herpulse started to race.

 'Tariq-'She breathed his name and closed her eyes. She thought she heard him mutter,`Sobe it,'but she couldn't becertain because his mouth finally claimed hers and she lostthe ability to think.

 It was the kiss of her dreams.

 His mouth was hot and demanding, the lean power of hisbody pressing against hers as he hauled her hard against him.She felt a tug at the back of her head and realized that he'dreleased her hair from the clip she'd used to restrain it.

 He muttered something that she didn't understand andthen sank his hands into her hair and held her head still whilehe explored her mouth in sensual, erotic detail. His fingers trailed lightly down her neck and then lower still, brushing lazily against the frantic jut of her nipple.

 Desire stabbed through her, sharp and urgent, and still hismouth seduced hers, commanding her response. And she gave what he demanded. The world outside ceased to exist. She was cocooned in the heat of her own newly awakened desire, readyto give him everything.Allthat she had and all that she was.

 Was this how Nadia had felt with her Sultan? Shewondered dizzily.

 Was this why she'd chosen death rather than a lifewithout him?

 Overwhelmed by emotion, she slid her arms round hisneck. `I love you.' She muttered the words against his clever,skilful mouth. `This has been the best month of my life.'

 He tensed and slowly lifted his head, his dark eyesscanning her face. `You are very young,laeela,and extremelybeautiful,' he said softly, lifting a hand and stroking hisfingers through her hair, his expression thoughtful. `Youplease me.'

 Farrah tried to hide her disappointment.Youplease mewasn't exactly the same asIlove you,but at least it was a start.

 A shout from the entrance of the caves caught his atten­tion. His wide shoulders stiffened with tension and there wasa flash of annoyance in his dark eyes. `Unfortunately itappears that we must return to Nazaar.' He turned back to her,his voice husky and intensely masculine. `It is growing lateand my presence is required elsewhere.'

 `So? Can't you do your command thing and tell them allto go away?' She snuggled against him, wishing they couldstay in the cave for ever.

 There was a glimmer of humour in his gaze.`Unfortu­nately not.There is a time for business and a time forpleasure. It is necessary to return now.'

 She caught his arm. `But will I see you again? What-'

 `Trust me,laeela.'He touched a finger to her mouth. `Wewill be together, that I promise you. And the pleasure will beall the greater for the wait.'

 She didn't want to wait, but clearly she had no choice andshe consoled herself with the fact that he obviously felt thesame way that she did. He wanted them to be together.

 He loved her too.

 She dreamed all the way back to the desert camp and shewas still dreaming when her father came to find her for dinner.

 `I can't believe you didn't tell me, Farrah!' He glared ather and she struggled to concentrate on what he was saying.

 `Tell you what?’

 'That you have been spending every day with the Prince.Did you not think it worth mentioning?'

 She hadn't mentioned it because she was afraid that herfather might try and stop her.

 `PrinceTariqbin Omar al-Sharma is totally out of yourleague,' her father said with a frown. `You're not his type.'

 Insecurity stabbed her but she ignored it. Her father hadn't'been with them, she consoled herself. He hadn't seen whatthey'd shared. `I love him. And he loves me,Iknowhe does.'

 `You're being naive.PrinceTariqis the most eligible guyin the world. Women drop into his path.'

 `And you're wondering what he could possibly see in me,aren't you?’

 'The woman who finally captures the heart of the DesertPrince will be sophisticated and beautiful,' her father saidwearily. `I love you, Farrah.Just as you are. We both knowthat your mother tried to make you into something that you'renot and you changed a lot about yourself in order to pleaseher. But she's gone now. You can be who you really are.'

 Farrah's eyes filled. `Daddy-'

 Her father shook his head, his eyes tired and empty. `Theshallow social scene isn't your thing, Farrah. And perhapsthat's a good thing. It corrupted your mother. I'd hate to seeit corrupt you too.'

 `I'm not going to be corrupted and it isn't Tariq's thingeither,' Farrah said urgently. Suddenly she needed her fatherto understand, needed him to give her hope. 'Tariq is inter­ested in history and culture and things that matter.'

 `He's the Crown Prince,' her father said dryly. `He enter­tains world leaders. That matters too.'

 Farrah thought of the month they'd spent together.Thought of their conversations, of the confidences they'dshared. `I know he loves me.'

 `Then you're a fool,' her father said quietly.

  

 And her father had been right, Farrah thought numbly as shestared out of the window of the jet.

 Shehadbeen a fool.

 For a short, blissful, deluded time she'd managed toconvinceherself that Tariq lovedher-thathewas going toaskherto marryhim.But marriage had never been on hismind.

 Just like the Sultan and Nadia, he'd wanted their relation­ship to be kept a secret.

 She was good enough to be his mistress, but not his wife.

 The tender moments they'd spent together in the desert camp of Nazaar had been nothing more than a sophisticatedseduction technique on his part. And at the age of eighteen, her brain full of romance and dreams, she'd fallen for it.

 How naive could a girl be?

 But she knew better now, she reminded herself as she pressed herself back in her seat in an attempt to get as faraway from him as possible.

 She knew exactly what sort of man Tariq was and what sortof qualities he valued.

 Obviously he'd studied her new sleek celebrity status andhad decided that she was finally good enough to stand by hisside. Ironically, she'd developed that side of herself in response to her mother's expectations and Tariq's own cruelrejection of her years earlier.

 But only she knew that inside she hadn't changed at all.She was still the girl who preferred history and horses tohouse parties and hairdressers. But she had no intention ofrevealing herself to Tariq.

 And, this time, she wasn't going to be blinded by the over­whelming sexual attraction that existed between them. Nomatter what the reaction of her body, she had no intention ofmaking a fool of herself over him for a second time.

 And no intention of letting him through the glittering webof deceit she'd spun to protect herself.

  

 CHAPTER FOUR

  

 THEYlanded at dawn and transferred to a limousine for theride through the desert.

 Even though it had been five years, Farrah recognized theroad immediately. `We're going to Nazaar?'Nazaar, once an important trading post on the frankincense route.

 Nazaar,the placewhere she'd fallen in love.

 Tariq gave a faint smile. `What better place to renew ourrelationship?'

 She turned to face him, her expression exasperated. It hadbeen a long night. She'd dozed on the plane but she was tiredand cranky and he was the last man in the world she wantedto be with. `I don'twantto renew our relationship, Tariq. AndI don't want to go there!' Nazaar held too many memories.It was the birthplace of all her hopes and dreams for thefuture.

 A future that had disintegrated before her eyes.

 She'd been hideously, embarrassingly naive and open with him and she didn't want to be reminded of the fact.

 'Nazaar is beautiful. You always said that you loved it.’ Un­perturbed by her outburst, there was a strange gleam in his eyes that she struggled to interpret.

 `I did love it, but that doesn't mean I want to go there now.I want to go home.' She thought of her job at the stables—

 thejob few people even knew she had—andfelt a pang of anxiety. She just hated the thought of letting them down. `Ihave things that I need to do at home.Commitments.'

 `More charity balls that require you to parade half-naked?'His gaze was sardonic. `If you're worried about missing out onopportunities to dress up, then don't be. You can dress or undressfor me as often as you please. I can assure you that I'll be awilling audience. And I know you'll be delighted to know thatI've had an entire wardrobe flown over for your entertainment.'

 Entertainment?She gaped at him and then reminded herself that the women that he usually mixed with would nodoubt have embraced him at this point.

 Women like her mother.

 It was so unbelievably shallow that she wanted to roll hereyes. `That sort of gesture may have been enough to guaran­tee you success with every other woman on the planet,' she said sweetly, `but it doesn't work with me.'

 `I don't think this is the time to explore each other's pasts,'he delivered smoothly and she flopped back against the seat,wondering what it took to deflate his ego.

 `Well, that's a good thing,' she snapped, `because I don'thave a past. The good thing about having a brush with a guylike you early in life is that it tends to teach a girl a lessonthat she never forgets.'

 `If you're suggesting that you've lived the life of a nunsince our last meeting then you're wasting your breath,' hedrawled lazily. `No one who saw you parading down thecatwalk in that swimming costume would ever accuse you ofsexual innocence,laeela.'

 Realising that she was fast becoming a victim of her owndeception, she frowned. 'Tariq-'

 `Drop the conversation,' heordered, a hint of menace inhis dark gaze. `I may be modem enough to accept that youhave a past, but it doesn't mean I'm ready to talk about it.'

  

 `There's nothing modern about you, Tariq,' she said flatly, 'You're well and truly stuck in the Stone Age. When it comesto women, the average camel is more advanced than you.'

 `I see you still haven't succeeded in curbing your seem­ingly unquenchable need to verbalize every thought thatenters your head,' he observed pleasantly and she gritted her teeth.

 `Where I come from, women are allowed to speak.'

 `They're allowed to speak where I come from too,' Tariqresponded instantly, `only those with sense learn to measurethe impact of their words before they utter them. You mightwant to give it a try some time.'

 `If you don't like the way I am then there's a simple solu­tion,' she said flippantly. `Turn round and drop me back at theairport.'

 `I like the way you are: There was amusement in his gazeand his tone was deceptively mild. `If I didn't, then I wouldn'tbe marrying you.'

 `You'renotmarrying me!' She turned to him, frustratedand goaded by his inability to listen to her. `I don't know whyyou've suddenly decided that I'm "the one", but it isn't goingto work, I can tell you that now. So you might as well turnthis car around before I disrupt your life again.'

 `Let's stop fighting.' Tariq slid an arm across the back ofthe seat, his long, strong fingers hovering within touchingdistance of her neck. `I agree that we need time togetherbefore we get married. That is why we are going to Nazaarand not to my palace at Fallouk. It will give us time to get toknow each other again without others interfering.'

 `Again?You never knew me, Tariq. And I don't need abreak with you! I don't want a break! I have things to do. I have to go to wo-' She broke off quickly, realizing just howmuch of herself she'd been about to reveal. She'd almostconfessed that she had a job! But that was something shewouldnevershare with him. She was never revealing a singlepart of herself again! Why would she, when this man had hurther so badly? She didn't care that he thought she was nothingmore than a frivolous, empty-headed socialite. His opinionof her didn't matter. All that mattered was keepingherself safe from hurt.

 `There are places that I need to be,' she muttered. `I havea life back inEngland.'

 He looked at her, a hint of amusement in his dark gaze. `Alife that will be outmatched by what I am offering? As mywife, you will have ample opportunity to indulge yourpassion for retail therapy and numerous social occasions thatdemand that you dress up and play princesses.'

 `And that's all you want in a wife?' He obviously hadn'tchanged one bit, she thought, struggling to keep the contemptout of her expression. He still expected a woman to be dec­orative and nothing more.

 Something flickered in his eyes but he turned his headaway and gave a careless shrug of his broad shoulders. `I needa queen and part of the role is entertaining. It's important to select someone who is up to the job.'

 Thejob?She had to stop her jaw from dropping. Howcould he be so unromantic? `And suddenly you've decidedthat I qualify?'

 Her sarcasm appeared lost on him. `You have learned howto conduct yourself in public.'

 The less than subtle reminder that she'd done and said allthe wrong things on the last occasion they'd been togetherbrought colour to her cheeks.

 `You were ashamed to display me in public.'

 `Not any more. This time you'll be by my side when wereturn to Fallouk.'

 She just heard one word.

 Fallouk.

 She stiffened and her eyes were suddenly wary. `I don'twant to go to Fallouk,' she said huskily. `I hate Fallouk.'

 `It is our capital city. I hardly need remind you that my main residence is there. Any time we spend at Nazaar canonly be temporary.' The chill in his tone and the arrogant tiltof his head reminded her that Tariq bin Omar al-Sharma had been born a prince and would die a prince. Five years before, she'd thought she knew the man.She'd fallen in love with theman she believed him to be.But she'd been wrong.

 So wrong.

 `Your palace is full of politics and intrigue,' she said flatly,`and frankly I've got better things to do with my time thanwalk around watching my back all the time.'

 His eyes gleamed with amusement. `I'd forgotten that youhave a tendency towards drama. Whenever a group of peoplegather together you have politics. It is part of the rich tapestryof life. You are being naive to expect otherwise.'

 She didn't need him to remind her of that. `Well, I've neverbeen that into tapestries. And I found the palace stifling.'

 Not to mention bitchy, but she didn't see the point ofraising that.

 There was a curious expression in his eyes. `Why arewomen so contrary? You love to dress up and my palace willafford you ample opportunity and yet you are looking at meas though I just promised to imprison you in a dark dungeonwith no food or water.'

 She wondered whether it was worth sharing with him thata dark dungeon would be preferable to an hour in thecompany of his aunts and cousins and decided not.

 `Well, maybe you just don't know me as well as you think.You never took the trouble to ask what I cared about, did you,Tariq? You didn't know what I liked and what I didn't like.Let's be honest about this, shall we? All you were ever inter­ested in was sex.'

 He studied her carefully, his expression maddeningly impas­sive. `You're an extremely beautiful woman,' he drawled softly.`andthe physical attraction between us is powerful, no matterhow much you would like to deny its existence. It is clear tome now that you were just too young to handle such an explo­sive passion. You misunderstood your feelings. It happens.'

 He was so cynical about women that he'd failed to spotthe real thing, she thought numbly as she looked away, tryingto ignore the empty, hollow feeling deep inside her. It wasn'teven worth trying to explain that all her life men had beenshowing interest in her money and, later, her looks. Never, until Tariq, had she met a man who'd seemed interested inher as a person.

 But it hadn't been real, of course. He hadn't really beeninterested in her. The art of conversation and appearing in­terested were all part of his superior seduction technique.After all, she mused, was there anything more seductive thansomeone who appeared to find you fascinating? Whoappeared to share your interests? Probably not, and she'dfallen for it. The brief memory of how stupid she'd been wasenough to harden her resolve.

 She'd been stupid once. It didn't mean she had to give arepeat performance.

 `It doesn't matter what I think of your palace, because I'm not going there.' She said the words aloud as much for herselfas for him and there was steel and determination in her voiceas she turned to look at him. `I want you to order them to turnthis car round and I want you to take me back to the airport right now.'

 His gaze was tolerant, as if he found her mildly entertain­ing. `Naturally, you are surprised by my proposal. You need time to become accustomed to the idea and I intend to giveyou that time. There will be no wedding until you are sure.'

 His belief in himself was monumental. Briefly, shewondered what it would be like to have such unshakeable self-confidence.

 `There will be no wedding at all! And taking me to Nazaarisn't going to make any difference to the way I feel about that.'She gritted her teeth and her eyes flashed. `We could spend acentury together, Tariq, and still I wouldn't want to marry you.'

 `And yet once,' he reminded her in a soft, lethal tone, `youdreamed of nothing else.'

 The fact that he was aware of her most intimate secrets wasdeeply humiliating.

 `That was before I knew what a total bastard you are.'

 The sudden touches of colour that appeared high on hisaristocratic cheek bones offered the only indication of his dis­approval. `As I have already said to you, Farrah, be careful.My patience is not limitless and you've clearly failed to learnthe art of diplomacy over the years. Your desire to shock andflirt with danger does you no credit.'

 `Which just goes to prove that I would be deeply unsuit­able as a wife,' she said helpfully, `so you might as well justturn this car round now. Either that or just instruct your body­guards to shoot me and have done with it.'

 `On the contrary, I have decided that you have all the qual­ities that I require in a wife.'

 Her heart was thumping. `You want a shocking wife?’

 'A certain independence of spirit is to be admired.'Hisslow smile was unmistakably masculine. `And fire andpassion is always a bonus in the bedroom-'

 `Which is the only place a woman has a role, in your opin­ion.' She felt her face flame and dragged her eyes away fromhis. `Be careful you don't take on more than you can handle,

 Tariq.'

 `I have never in my life had trouble handling a woman.'

 `And you've certainly had enough practice,' she muttered,unable to hide the hurt and the pain.

 He'd dated some of the most beautiful women in theworld. Why she'd once thought she meant something to himwas beyond her. She must have been really,really foolish atthe age of eighteen.

 Thank goodness she'd grown up and seen the light.

 `You have no reason to feel jealous. You are the one I'mmarrying.'

 `I'm not jealous, Tariq. To be jealous you have to care andI don't care about you. You have no effect on me whatsoever.'

 His movement was swift and smooth and came withoutwarning. In a show of ruthless determination and masculinestrength, he powered her back against the seat and trappedher mouth under his with such ferocious passion that herwhimper of shock was swiftly transformed into a soft sigh of acquiescence.

 Her skin tingled, heat exploded deep within her and everyinch of her trembling, quivering body cried out for him.Ached for him.

 It had been five years since they'd touched and yet it was as if her senses had retained a memory of him.

 She'd dreamed so often of the two of them together. Hadtried to imagine what it would be like to be with him properly.And they'd come close.Soclose­—

 Until he'd stopped it.

 But he wasn't stopping it now and his hard body camedown on hers, one muscular thigh sliding between her legsas he held her captive with his weight and the heat of hismouth. The hard thrust of his arousal touched her intimatelyand she shifted and arched in an attempt to bring them closertogether.

 She felt hot.Sohot.Her body burned and craved. Her heartbumped against her chest and the blood raced around her body..Her fevered senses demanded that she do something to relieve the pounding, pulsing tension that throbbed deep in her pelvis.

 Frustration and anticipation exploded inside her and shemoved against him in an instinctive invitation that was entirely feminine.

 She needed him and that need was a powerful drivingforce that blasted everything from her head except the primalurge for sexual fulfillment.

 Dragging her mouth from his, she breathed his name andthen slid her arms round his neck, traced the roughness of hisjaw with the tip of her tongue and then found his mouthagain.

 Accepting her fevered overtures, his tongue delvedbetween her parted lips and he muttered something that shedidn't understand, sliding his hand beneath her hips to haulher closer still to his powerful frame.

 With a gasp of encouragement she wrapped her legsaround him and then sobbed with frustration as she realizedthat the thin silk of her trousers still separated them.

 She reached out to touch him, her hands fumbling in herhaste, but he lifted his mouth from hers and eased himselfaway from her seeking fingers. His eyes glittered dark anddangerous as he gazed down at her, a frown on his impossi­bly handsome face.

 `This isnotthe right time-'

 'Tariq-'

 `When the time is right, you will give yourself to me andit will be good. But this is not that time.' His voice slightlyhusky, he sat up in a smooth movement and relaxed againstthe seat. Nothing about his body language suggested thatonly moments before they'd been on the verge of indulging in hot, mindless sex on the back seat of his car.

 Torn between aching frustration and utter humiliation that he still had the control to pull away, she smoothed the jacketof her suit and waited for the hot colour in her cheeks tosubside before turning to look at him.

 The exotic, angular planes of his handsome face revealednothing. As usual, his expression gave no clues as to what he was thinking. If their torrid encounter had affected him at all then there was no evidence of that fact.

 By contrast, her lips felt swollen and hot and her whole body was still suffering the shocking after-effects of theirerotic interlude.

 `Why did you do that?' Her voice was hoarse and she justhated herself for revealing so much despite her best inten­tions.`Why?'

 He turned to her, his gaze faintly mocking.`Because youinsist on pretending that there is nothing between us when we both know that we share a powerful bond.You are a complex woman. On the one hand you are almost painfully honest andyet when it comes to our relationship you are happy todeceive yourself. I wanted to prove something and I did.'

 `That's rubbish.' Ignoring the insistent throb that torturedthe very centre of her body, she slid into the corner of her seat,placing herself as far away from him as possible. `All you'veproved is that you're a good kisser. And you jolly well shouldbe. You've certainly had enough practice.'

 `I've just proved that, when I decide the time is right, youwill come to my bed willingly.'

 `The only way you'll get me anywhere near your bed is if you drag me,' she threw back at him and he smiled.

 `I think we both know that isn't going to be necessary.' Hewas so blisteringly confident of his own attractions that shewas suddenly filled with an almost overwhelming desire toslap him again.

 Normally she considered herself to be a very easygoingperson, but around Tariq she turned into a boiling cauldronof exaggerated emotion.

 `Has anyone ever told you that you have a whopping ego?'

 ‘I have a healthy appreciation for my own abilities and achievements. That's a good thing,laeela.Unlike the English, Ido not consider success to be distasteful.'

 And he'd had enormous success, she knew that.

 Educated atEton,CambridgeandHarvard, he'd takenover the running of the country after his father, the Sultan,had suffered a stroke. And all were in agreement that, thanks to his exceptional business talents, the oil rich state ofTazkash had moved into a new age of peace and prosperity.

 She licked her lips. `So why do you suddenly feel theneed to get married?'

 He turned to look at her, his dark eyes slumbrous.`Becauseit is time.I am ready to take a wife.'

 Take a wife. She ignored the sudden warmth that oozedthrough her traitorous body. `Your views on marriage arepositively Neolithic. You don't get married just because thealarm clock is buzzing,' she said, her tone thick withcontempt, `you get married for love. But that's something youdon't know anything about, do you, Tariq? So tell me, whyme? I'm not so stupid as to believe that you care about me,so why have you picked me for the dubious honour of mat­rimony?’

 'It's not true to say that I don't care about you. The con­nection between us is very strong. We will be good together.I can feel it and so can you.'

 Her flesh still yearned for his touch and she shifted in herseat, denying the insistent throb deep in her pelvis. `No, we wouldn't be good. We'd be a total nightmare.'

 He gave a faint smile. `Are you still so naive that you don'trecognize powerful chemistry between a man and a woman?'

 Something dark and dangerous shimmered inside her.Temp­tation.Shocking, delicious temptation.Oh, yes, she recognizedthe chemistry.And that was the reason that she knew she hadto get away from him. `I could never be happy with you, Tariq.'

 `I think I just proved you wrong.'

 `You're talking about sex again but marriage is supposedto be about so much more than sex. It isn't going to happen.For the first time in your life you're going to have to cometo terms with hearing the wordno.'Andthat was going to takesome practice, she thought dryly. He was the Sultan. No one dared to say no to him. Everyone around him bowed andscraped and rushed to do his bidding.

 He saw, he coveted,he took.

 She lay back against the seat, still dazed and disorientatedfrom his kiss and feeling exhausted after such lengthyexposure to his autocratic, forceful personality. Being withTariq could never be described as restful, she thought desper­ately, as she tried to subdue the feelings that were stilltumbling through her sensitized body.

 Nothing had changed.He still only had to touch her forher to lose all sense of reason.

 Being around him was dangerous. She didn't trust herself,didn't trust her body,not to respond.

 But this time she knew that it was just physical, shereminded herself, staring out of the window to hide her con­fusion. And once she'd got away from him, the squirming, nagging ache deep in her belly would fade to nothing but adistant memory. She'd be able to forget him.

 And she had every intention of getting away.

 If he wouldn't take her back to the airport, then she'd haveto find another way to get herself home.

 And the airport wouldn't be an option. Even if she didmake her own way there, she'd be stopped the moment sheshowed her face.

 No. She had to find her way into the neighbouring stateof Kazban. Nazaar was less than a four hour drive from the border. If she could cross safely into Kazban then she stooda chance of getting home. She was an intelligent, indepen­dent woman. How hard could it be?

 Preoccupied with planning, she was silent for a while, but not once was she able to forget his presence beside her.

 She watched the dunes roll out into the distance, a strangely beautiful alien land that had captured her heart and her imagi­nation from the first moment. She watched as the sun rosehigher in the sky and played with the colour of the sand. Burntorange, browns and yellows all merged together as the windbreathed life into the dunes, creating strange ridges andpatterns.

 The desert had always fascinated her and it fascinated herstill.

 `There is a storm coming.' He spoke the words quietly. `Itis predicted to hit in the next twenty-four hours.'

 A storm?

 She'd never witnessed a sandstorm but she knew that theycould be lethal, obscuring roads and reducing visibility to

 zero.And turning the desert into a deathtrap.

 It would affect her plans. She couldn't travel in a storm,she thought, and then her mind moved one step further. On the other hand, who would follow her or even notice herabsence if the weather conditions were severe?

 With the right sort of four-wheel drive vehicle and satel­lite navigation, it could be done.

 `Have you ever been in the desert in a storm?' She turnedto him and his eyes narrowed.

 `Of course.I have lived in this country for most of my lifeand I know thedesert as well as I know the city. Far frombeing romantic, I can assure you that it is an experience tobe avoided. Fortunately we have sophisticated weather equip­ment that allows us to predict such an event with a fair degreeof accuracy and behave accordingly. No one would chooseto be out in the desert in a storm.'

 No one, Farrah thought silently, except a woman who wasdesperate.

 And she was truly desperate.

 She sat back in her seat, decision made.

 She was going to take a four-wheel drive, cross the borderand return home.

 And His Royal Highness, Sultan Tariq bin Omar al-Shartnawas going to have to look elsewhere for a bride.

  

 Women.

 Why did they always have to play such elaborate games?

 Why did they have to be so difficult, their actions so utterlyincomprehensible?

 Having spent the entire journey to Nazaar engaged inverbal warfare, Tariq paced the tent in barely contained ex­asperation, his dark hair still damp from the shower, the finesilk of his shirt clinging to the muscles of his broad shoul­ders.

 It was so obvious that she was as hot for him as he was forher and yet she persisted in her ridiculous pretence that she had no desire to marry him.

 Ofcourseshe wanted to marry him.

 Why wouldn't she?

 Marriage was what she'dalwayswanted. What everywoman ultimately wanted.

 The past still lay between them, he decided with a frown.Once, five years previously, he'd refused to offer her marriageand obviously he'd dented her pride. She was playing games.

 But, unfortunately for her, he knew everything there wasto know about women's games. He'd had firsthand experi­ence of them since he'd been old enough to speak. And Farrahwas no different from all the other women he'd ever known.

 Of course, in an ideal world he wouldn't have chosen tomarry her but, given what he stood to gain from such a union,he was more than prepared to make the sacrifice, particularlynow he'd been reacquainted with her charms.

 Remembering her uninhibited reaction in the back of the car,he gavea smile. He knewexactlywhich buttons to press and nowhe had her here at Nazaar, he had all the opportunity heneeded to press them as often as necessary.

  

 CHAPTER FIVE

  

 ANGRYwith Tariq and exhausted from the drive, Farrahfollowed six female servants into the tent that had been allo­cated for her use.

 As she was led through folds of creamy canvas, acrossrichly carpeted floor, her anger fell away.

 The room was enchanting.Dreamy.And richly exotic.Much more so than the one she'd occupied during her stayfive years previously.

 The huge bed was draped in silks and velvets and piled high with sumptuous cushions that just invited a person tocollapse into their welcoming comfort, a canopy of filmyfabric providing just a suggestion of privacy for theoccupant.

 No roughing it for Tariq, she thought drylyasshe looked atthe carefully selected books on the low table next to the bed, thehandcrafted furniture and the mixture of traditional ornaments.

 Outside the wind was rising and she could hear the faintscrape of sand against the canvas of the tent.

 A storm was coming.

 And that storm would hide her escape.

 Eager to rest while she could, she dismissed the hoveringstaff, lay down on the bed and slept.

 When she wokeshe was feeling much refreshed.

 'His Royal Highness sends his apologies.’ A pretty girl entered the tent and gave her a shy smile. `He has pressing business matters to attend to and is unable to join you forinch. But he wants you to know that he will take dinner with you later.'

 Oh, no, he wouldn't, Farrah thought to herself, because she wasn't going to be here for dinner. By dinner time she'd beat the airport in neighbouring Kazban, negotiating to beallowed on the first flight back toLondon.

 She wasn't hungry, but she knew it was important that sheeat something. She was going to need energy and she neededto take some food with her. It came asarelief to discover thatTariq wouldn't be joining her.

 `It doesn't matter. I'm quite happy to have lunch here. I'mthirsty,could I possibly have more water, please?' Water, sheknew, would be a key part of her escape. No one in theirright mind would risk a journey across the desert withoutwater.

 She dined alone and managed to stash away the food and water that she needed. Then it was just a question of waitinguntil the maids left her alone in the tent.

 Although the wind had risen, there was no sign of thepromised storm as she made her way through the brightsunshine to where the vehicles were parked.

 In terror of being caught at any moment, her heart banging painfully against her ribs, she sidled up to the nearest one and saw the keys in the ignition. With a sigh of relief, she openedthe door gingerly and slid inside.

 There was no sign of anyone. No guards. No one, but stillshe winced as the engine burst into life with a throaty roar.

 Expecting to be stopped at any moment, she put her foot hard on the accelerator and aimed for the road.

 A labyrinth of sand dunes stretched ahead of her but shekept her eyes fixed on the dusty track that she knew led towardsthe border and the neighbouring state of Kazban.And safety.
Just drive, Farrah, she told herself grimly. Drive and don't lookback.

  

 'MissTyndallhas gone, Your Highness.'

 'Gone?'

 Hasim clasped his hands in front of him, his expressionthat of a man who would have preferred to be elsewhere. `Itappears she has taken one of the four-wheel drive vehiclesand has driven into the desert.Alone. It seems entirelypossible that she wasn't as excited at the prospect of marriageas you originally predicted.'

 Lost for words for possibly the first time in his adult life, Tariq found himself in the grip of an entirely new emotion.Shock. And surprise.Never before had a woman chosen to walk away from him. He had always been the one to do thewalking away. He had been the one to end each relationshipwhen he decided that the time was right.

 It hadn't occurred to him that she would go to such lengthsto avoid him and he frowned in incredulous disbelief, forcedto concede that he had clearly misjudged the situation badly.

 But why would she reject him when her response to himwas so powerful?

 With single-minded focus, he traced back through theirconversations and his mind came to an emergency stop at oneword.Love. Somewhere in their conversation hadn't sheflung in the fact that he didn't love her? Was that what washolding her back from saying yes?

 With startling clarity, everything suddenly became clearand he cursed himself for his own stupidity and lack of vision.

 At the age of eighteenFarrahTyndallhad been a dreamy­eyed romantic and clearly nothing had changed.

 She'd loved the legend of Nadia and her Sultan. She'dsighed and smiled over the wonder of their relationship andhad been appalled at the Sultan for refusing to marry his love.

 For her it had been all about love and romance and notabout practicalities.

 Cursing himself for crass stupidity, Tariq winced as herecalled just how lacking in emotional embellishment hisproposal of marriage had been. He knew only too well thatsome women had a deep-seated need to engulf every relation­ship in a bubble of emotion and he also knew that Farrah was one of those women. He should have remembered that at theage of eighteen all she had done was talk about love.

 How could he have made such a mistake? This was a businessdeal, after all, and he excelled at negotiating business deals. Hewas a master at evaluating his opponent and pressing all the rightbuttons. Only in this case he'd totally missed the mark.

 It was immediately clear to him that he hadn't made hisproposal of marriage anywhere near romantic enough toappeal to the dreamy nature of a girl like Farrah.

 But the situation was retrievable, he assured himself, pro­viding he found her before she drove the four-wheel drive intoa sand hole or turned it over.

 The thought sent a chill down his spine.

 Suddenly the need to reach her before somethinghappened to her seemed increasingly urgent.

 His expression grim, he turned to his adviser. `What is theweather forecast?’

 'Not good,Your Highness. The wind is rising.'

 `All the same, even in good conditions she knowsnothingabout driving in sand.'

 `I shall arrange a search party,' Hasim murmured but Tariqshook his head.

 `No. I will go myself.'

 And hopefully she would see it as a romantic gesture on his part, he thought dryly.

 Hasim didn't hide his shock. `That would not be a good idea–’­

 My plans forFarrahTyndalldid not include her dying in desert,' Tariq reminded him, his mouth set in a hard line.I will take the helicopter.'

 Hasim licked dry lips. `I understand that you have a loveof extreme sports, Your Excellency, but it is unsafe to fly and-'

 'Life cannot always be safe. She has a head start. There isno other way of reaching her. Was the tracking device on hervehicle switched on?'

 Hasim nodded, visibly disturbed by the prospect of Tariqtaking the helicopter. `Yes,Your Excellency. But if you insiston flying, at least allow your staff to accompany you-'

 `I will not risk any other lives. With luck I will reach herbefore she does herself permanent damage. If not-' If notthen he'd have ample time, in which to regret underestimat­ing theTyndall heiress.

  

 It took less than an hour for Farrah to admit that driving intothe desert alone had been a stupid idea. The `road' soonvanished under the drifting sand and she was forced to rely on the unfamiliar equipment within the vehicle she'd taken.

 She'd let the air out of the tyres as she'd seen others do, but the sand was soft and she gripped the wheel hard as shetried to hold her course up a steep dune. Maybe if she madeit to the top, she'd be able to get her bearings. Perhaps theroad would be visible.

 She hit the accelerator and aimed straight for the top ofthe dune but, as she felt the vehicle slow and the wheels beddown into the soft sand, she automatically flung the wheel tothe right, trying to turn. The world tilted and the wheelsbedded in deeper.

 She was stuck.

 Helpless and frustrated, she sat back in her seat. Stay calm, she told herself firmly. Stay calm. But it was hard to stay calm when the wind was rising, night was falling and there was no prospect of digging herself out.

 Intending to see whether she could put something under the wheels, she slid gingerly out of the vehicle, still concernedabout tipping it over.

 And then she saw the helicopter. Like a threatening black insect, it raced above the dunes towards her and then setdown on a dusty flat patch of desert, the whip of the deadlyblades clouding the air with particles of sand. The pilot leapeddown and his broad shoulders and muscular physique left herin no doubt as to his identity.

 Tariq.

 She swallowed hard and felt her heart bang against herchest. Which was worse?she wondered helplessly. Gettinglost in the desert, never to be seen again, or being taken backto Nazaar by the man from whom she'd been trying toescape?

 She braced herself as he reached her and lifted her chin.`I'm not coming back with you.'

 His robes billowed out behind him in the strong wind andhis handsome face was hard and devoid of humour. `I acceptthat I have made many mistakes in my dealings with you butthis is not the time for such a discussion. Had you forgottenthat a storm was forecast?’

 'No.'The wind whipped her blond hair across her face andshe reached up and anchored it with her hand, her eyesnarrowed against the wind and the sand. `I hadn't forgotten.But I thought you wouldn't follow me in a storm.'

 He looked momentarily stunned at her confession. `Myproposal of marriage is that abhorrent to you?’

 'Where I come from, marriage should be about love, Tariq,and we don't love each other. I don't want you in my life. Itried that once before and it didn't work out.' Even as she spoke, the wind rose and swept harsh, biting sand into theirfaces. She choked and tried to cover her face with her armsand he muttered something that she didn't understand.

 The next thing she knew he was wrapping a soft strip ofsilk around her mouth and nose with firm but gentle hands.

 'This will help. We need to get out of here while we stillcan. There will be time for talk later.'

 'I'm notgoing with you, Tariq.'

 He braced himself against the wind and stared at her withnaked incredulity, clearly at a loss. `You would rather stayhere and risk death?’

 'Than be bullied by you? Yes.'

 He stared at her with ill-concealed exasperation. `I giveyou my word that, once we have spoken, if you wish to returntoLondonthen I will fly you there myself. Is that goodenough?’

 'What if you're lying?'

 Those dark eyes flashed a warning. `You question myword?'

 The wind howled in her ears and, despite the scarf, thesand stung her eyes and seemed to find its way through herclothing to her sensitive skin. Suddenly she realized just howbleak and dangerous their surroundings were.`All right. Let's get out of here.Back to the helicopter.'

 'No helicopter. The conditions are now too dangerous.Visibility is reducing by the minute and I cannot lift off inthis.'

 `Then what do you propose?’

 'We use your four-wheel drive.'

 She glanced at it guiltily. 'Ah, well, there's just a bit of aproblem with that. I was just getting outto see if I could dosomething about it.'

 He looked at her feet for the first time and his mouth tight­ened into a grim line.`In sandals? Don't you know the risks of walking in the desert like that? This isn'tLondon ,laeela,'he said with sardonic bite. 'Here you walk amongst snakesand scorpions.'

 Snakes and scorpions?She squashed down a ridiculouslygirly instinct to leap up on him and cling round his neck sothat her feet were well out of harm's way. The truth was shehadn't been thinking about the desert dangers when she'dplanned her escape. She'd been thinking only of him.Andgetting away.

 `The car is stuck,' she muttered and he breathed outsharply.

 `The car,' he informed her helpfully, 'is not designed to gosideways down a dune.'

 `Well, I know that! I didn't go sideways on purpose! I wasaiming for the top but the wheels were just digging deeperand deeper-'

 `If you failed to go forwards then you should have gonebackwards. Driving in shifting sand, particularly sand that has been softened by the heat of the sun, presents particular chal­lenges. I will move the vehicle and we will return to the campin that.'

 Searching for the rest of his entourage, she glanced overhis shoulder and saw no one. `Where are your bodyguards?'

 `There is a storm coming and this is the last place anyoneshould be because there is no shelter.'

 `But you flew-'

 `You are my responsibility. I cannot allow others to risk their lives to save yours. The visibility was good when I leftNazaar. But we won't be able to take off again. We will needto return in the four-wheel drive.'

 It was her turn to be surprised. He'd come for her alone?`Your fancy car is totally stuck.'

 `Then we will need to unstick it.'

 From the gleam in his dark eyes she had a feeling that he wasrelishing the challenge. Instead of appearing disturbedby the rising wind and the sharp sting of sand against their faces, he merely wrapped something over his own mouthand set to work. Then he slid into the driver's seat and pro­ceeded tomanoeuvred the vehicle out of the sand.

 He let still more air out of the tyres and then did some­thing clever with the brake, the accelerator and the steering wheel and the vehicle finally sprang to life. Watching thesmooth, confident movement of his strong hands, she realizedthat he made it look easy. And he'd made it look easy fiveyears earlier.Which was why she'd thought that she'd be ableto do it herself.

 `1 was silly to try and drive on my own,' she conceded,clutching the seat as he roared to the top of the dune. `Butyou made it look easy.'

 `I was born here.' His hands were hard on the wheel andshe gave a soft gasp of alarm as they crested the dune. The sand fell away steeply and she clutched at her seat, her eyes wide.

 'Tariq-you can't go down there; it's a cliff!'

 `Are you afraid?' He turned to her with a gleam of chal­lenge in his eyes. `I've never asked you if you like rollercoasters,laeela,'he purred. `But I'm about to find out. Holdon to your seat.'

 Grateful that the swirl of sand obscured at least part of thevertiginous drop, Farrah gripped the seat tightly. `I hopeyou're at least half as skilled as you are confident,' shemuttered. `Otherwise we're going to be ending our days atthe bottom of this dune.'

 Concentrating on the driving, he didn't look towards herbut there was a smile on his mouth as he manipulated thewheel with a sure and skilful touch and she realized with aflash of shock that he was enjoying himself. `There are manythings you don't know about me, Farrah, but we are going to remedy that.'

 Somehow they were safely down and only then, as the noseof the vehicle rose and she felt the tyres bite into a more solid surface, did she realize that she'd been holding her breath.

 `I'm almost relieved I didn't make it to the top,' shemuttered. `If I had, I wouldn't have known what to do aboutcoming down.'

 `You should never turn. Turning too sharply has the same effect as slamming on the brakes. If you drive even at a slightangle, the weight transfer is to the downhill wheels which dig in and make the angle even worse. You will roll over. Iknow.' He dealt her a wicked smile. `I did it several timeswhen I was younger.'

 The smile made her heart and stomach flip in unison andshe issued herself a sharp reminder about the dangers of falling for the charms of the Desert Prince.

 He'd always enjoyed risking life and limb-she remem­bered that now. Remembered reading that he'd been forcedto curb his more dangerous activities once he'd become the ruler of Tazkash.

 `I've driven a four-wheel drive before and I thought itwould be similar.'

 `Driving on a sliding, shifting surface takes much skill.'He glanced across at her. `Drive too fast and you'll rush into quicksand or a sinkhole, drive too slowly and you won't havethe momentum to get up the slope.'

 Hearing him spell out the difficulties, she realized howfoolish she'd been even to think about driving into the desert. Gloomily, she stared out of the window, frowning as she sawthe sky darken and the visibility reduce. `The storm is getting worse.'

 `And we are less than twenty minutes from Nazaar andsafety. You canrelax,laeela.'

 'Twenty minutes? That's not possible.' She glanced athim, shocked. 'I'd been driving for over two hours.'

 ‘In circles.You were lost.’ His eyes were fixed on the roadand she studied his strong, handsome profile, wondering ifhe'd ever had a crisis of confidence in his life.

 'How can you possibly know that when you weren'tthere?'

 'Because the vehicle is equipped with a tracking device.That was how I was able to find you so easily.'

 Realising that she'd never stood a chance, she flopped back against her seat.`Why me, Tariq?' Impulsively sheturned to him. `I can't understand why you would suddenlywant to marry me. You, who always hated the idea ofmarryinganyone .Why me and why now?’

 'Because it is right.'He brought the vehicle to a halt in acloud of dusty sand and immediately a horde of people de­scended on them. Briefly his eyes met hers. `This is not a con­versation for now. You will dine with me tonight and we willtalk.'

  

 Mildly embarrassed at everyone's relief at their safe return,Farrah accepted the offer of a scented bath and a massage andthen slipped back to the sanctuary of her luxurious canopiedroom. Her scalp still tingled from the application of shampoosand scented oils and her hair fell damp and glossy over her shoulders.

 A girl, who introduced herself as Yasmina, had been sentto help her dress and for once Farrah didn't resist. She feltcompletely exhausted, but whether from the strain of her ridethrough the desert or the stress of being back with Tariq again, she wasn't sure.

 All she knew was that she didn't have the energy to resist when the girl started to dry and brush her hair.`You have beautiful hair. It is easy to understand why His Highness requested that it be left loose this evening,’ the girl murmured as her hands stroked and soothed.

 In receipt of that totally inflammatory piece of information, Farrah tried to summon up the energy to instruct the girl to fasten her hair up on her head, but she decided that she'dhad enough confrontation for one day.

 Instead, she reminded herself that Tariq had promised tofly her back toLondonif that was what she wanted. And thatwaswhat she wanted, she told herself firmly. So she'd dinewith him and make sure that he got that message, get somerest and then travel home in the morning.

 Satisfied with the plan, she realized that Yasmina wasshowing her a dress. `It is an extremely generous gift fromHis Highness,' the girl breathed.`Howhe honours you.'

 How he fails to understand me,Farrah thought wearily asshe allowed the girl to slip the dress over her head. Made ofthe finest silk, different shades of green and blue merged andblended together like the colours of a peacock feather. Thefabric was of such superior quality that it was like wearingnothing next to her skin and Farrah reached down to touch it.

 Should she refuse to wear it?Probably, but she had to wearsomethingand obviously she hadn't been given the opportu­nity to pack anything of her own.

 Yasmina stared at her in admiration. `You look beautiful enough to ensnare a sultan.'

 Farrah frowned as she slipped her feet into strappy sandals.She didn't want to ensnare anyone. She just wanted to gohome.Back to her life.Back to the riding stables.

 And if Tariq thought that one pretty dress was going tochange her mind, then he was as far off the mark as he ever hadbeen.

  

 Tariq paced the length of the tent, ignoring thestaff whowerecarefully arranging various delicacies on the low table.

 Everything was in place, he thought.

 She wanted romance and now, thanks to a sudden flash of inspiration on his part, he had an entire team of staff workingflat out to deliver nothing but romantic gestures. Massage,candles, dresses, jewellery—as far as he could see, he wasticking all the boxes. How could he possibly fail?

 There were certain courtship rituals that a woman expectedand he'd neglected those rituals because he'd thought theconnection between them was enough. Clearly it wasn't andhe wouldn't be making that mistake again.

 When a whisper of silk announced her entrance into histent he turned to her with a confident smile. The smile froze on his lips as he saw her. Something dangerous and unfamil­iar shifted inside him and for a brief moment he forgot thatthe relationship he was trying to forge with this woman wasall about business.

 She looked like a woman designed specifically to tempt aman from the straight and narrow. A woman who would wrapherself around a man's mind until all coherent thought had been squeezed out.

 The sleek fall of her hair shone pale gold, gleaming underthe flickering light of the candles that had been arrangedaround the tent by his staff in accordance with his instruction.

 Exquisite,he thought to himself, indulging in a brief eroticfantasy that involved all that glorious hair trailing over his heated, naked flesh.

 Lust stabbed through him and, with a flash of masculinefrustration, he momentarily reflected on the fact that awoman's requirement for romance invariably acted as thebrakes on the roller coaster ride towards sexual satisfaction.Before he could take her to bed and give them both whatthey needed, he was expected to jump through all the right hoops.

 But he was well on hisway, he assured himself as he dragged his gaze away from her lush, glossy mouth andforced himself to concentrate.

 He'd arranged for her to be pampered, he'd presented her with a dress.Now on to the next thing on his list.Compliments and jewellery.Both were easy.

 `You look very beautiful.' His voice was soft and he reached for a velvet box in midnight blue that had been delivered only moments earlier. `I have something for youwhich I think you'll like.'

 She opened the box and he silently congratulated his staff on their excellent taste. The diamond necklace was a truly ex­quisite piece.Rare and tasteful. Preparinghimself to be on thereceiving end of an appropriate amount of female gratitude, hedismissed the staff with a wave of his hand and was takenaback when she snapped the box shut and slipped it into her bag.

 `Thank you.'

 This was not the reaction he'd expected. `You're not goingto wear it?’

 'Possibly.I suppose it depends on the occasion. It seemsa bit over the top for dinner in the desert in a tent. To behonest, it's not really my style.'

 Never before having witnessed such a lack of enthusiasmfor jewellery, Tariq looked at her with frank incomprehen­sion. `Diamonds are every woman's style.'

 `But I'm not every woman.' She gave him a sympathetic smile and walked gracefully over to the cushions. `Sorry tobe difficult. I'm sure most of your conquests would be well and truly sewn up by now. Pretty dress, candles, diamonds­—you should be on to a sure thing.'

 Her tone told him that he was missing something crucialand he racked his brains for inspiration. `They are the things that matter to women.'

 `No: Her smile faded and she looked him straight in the eye.'They're the things that matter to the women you usuallymix with, Tariq. That's not the same thing. I'm not like themand yet you persist in thinking that I am. That's always been your mistake.'

 'I don't make mistakes.'

 'You're making so many mistakes you're falling overthem,' she said sweetly. `Your mistakes are the reason I droveN our car into the desert. We are operating on entirely differ­ent wavelengths. It's clear to me now that you willneverun­ derstand me.'

 On the receiving end of this less than encouraging an­nouncement, Tariq was filled with a previously unknownurge to defend his actions.

 `You are a woman who lives to dress up—'

 `So you think.' She sank on to the pile of cushions in agraceful movement and he inhaled deeply, hanging on to hispatience with difficulty. Being with a woman was supposed to be relaxing, he mused. But life with Farrah was one longgame of cat and mouse. She was infuriatingly unpredictable.Surely he'd done everything that was required of a man? What more did she expect?

 `I suppose you have a rich father to buy you all thediamonds you need.'

 `Yes.' Reaching forward, she helped herself to a glossyblack date. `But you see, Tariq, I don't need diamonds.' Sheslid the date into her mouth and he felt tension throb throughhis body as she licked her fingers. `Has it ever occurred to you that you and I are actually very similar?'

 Disturbed from the pleasurable act of contemplating theirdifferences, Tariq looked at her blankly.`How?' At thatprecise moment he wasn't interested in exploring similarities.

 `We were both born with sufficient wealth and influenceto ensure that we could never be entirely confident of anotherperson's motives.'

 Her mouth was perfect, he reflected, struggling to ignore his increasing arousal. `I don't know what you mean—'

 `No. You probably don't.' She reached for another date and popped it into her mouth. `And that's always been yourproblem. You don't really care what women think about you because you only connect with them on one level. But I'mnot interested in that one level. You have absolutely no ideawho I am or what I want and you've never bothered to takethe trouble to find out. All you're really interested in is sex.'

 And who could blame him?

 His eyes still on her mouth, he watched as she sampled thefood with slow, sensuous relish. Never before had he watcheda woman eat with such obvious enjoyment. All the femaleshe'd ever known had appeared to regard food as a threat andeating as nothing more than a distasteful social obligation tobe undertaken under sufferance and preferably without theconsumption of a single calorie. Watching Farrah lick herfingers, it was clear that she held an entirely different attitudeto food. Showing none of the inhibitions characteristic of hersex, she studied each plate with enthusiasm and helpedherself to a selection of local delicacies.

 In the grip of a severe attack of lust, Tariq struggled todeliver the conversation that was so clearly required of him.`Why would you always be suspicious of people's motives?’

 'Because I've learned to be that way.And I'm suspiciousof yours, Tariq.' She leaned forward and selected an olivefrom the bowl in front of her. `Why would you want to marryme? It doesn't make sense.'

 It made perfect sense to him. In fact, as he watched hernibbling and licking her lips, it was making increasing sense.His body was wound so tight that he thought he mightexplode and it felt as though his entire brain was slidingsouth. Suddenly there was only one purpose in his life.

 He wantedFarrahTyndalland he wanted her to himself.

 And what better way was there of guaranteeing exclusiv­ity than marriage'?

 Marriage would mean that she could take up permanentresidence in his bed.Captive. No other man would have a chance with her. No other man would see her as he wasseeing her now, her fair hair trailing on to the cushions, thedelicate silk of her dress skimming her amazing body. For thefirst time in his life he realized that the institution of marriagecame with significant benefits.

 She would be his. He would own her body and soul.

 At that precise moment he had forgotten that the purposeof his own marriage was supposed to be all about business because all thoughts of business had been blown from hismind. With her lying in front of him he could focus onnothing except pleasure.

 `We would be perfect together. You sawthat five yearsago.' His voice was husky as he lowered himself on to thecushions next to her. `Am I to be punished because I was alittle slower than you to recognize what it was that we had?’

 'So you're saying that you've spent the past five yearspining for me'?'There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone butthe tiny pulse beating in her throat told him that she wasn't as cool and indifferent as she pretended to be.

 `You weren't the obvious choice of a wife,' he confessed,remembering that women were purported to like honesty, `but never has any woman affected me the way you do.' The discovery that the second part of his statement was nothingmore than the truth came as something of a shock.

 Up until now, the women in his life had been more or lessinterchangeable. Society clones with the right pedigree.Women paraded in front of him by his family in the hope thathe'd select one, marry her and produce the necessary heir.

 `Well, if I wasn't the obvious choice five years ago, whywould that have changed?'

 'Perhaps it is I who have changed,' Tariq muttered, still reeling from the implications of his discovery. It was just because their relationship had never reached the obvious conclusion, he assured himself, a frown touching his blackeyebrows. Had the relationship developed in the way he'd an­ticipated, he would have had no problem moving on in thesame way that he'd always moved on. `I am no longerprepared to marry for political reasons.'

 In fact, he wouldn't have been prepared to marry at allwere it not for the fact that he was able to seek a divorce afterforty days and forty nights.

 `You want to take me to bed.'

 `If that was all I wanted, then why would I marry you?'

 Her gaze was fixed on his. 'I'm still asking myself thatquestion.’

 'Then allow me to answer it for you. I have seen enoughmarriages fail to know that there must be something morethan political gain in order to make the relationship work.'

 `And yet you never thought that Nadia should have beenmore than the Sultan's mistress.'

 Her voice was pleasant but he tensed, sensing a trap. `Youstill think of that legend?' He leaned forward to fill her glass. `We are not talking about history now. Things change andprogress. We are not living the lives of our ancestors.'

 `And what would your family think of this marriage you'reproposing?' For a brief moment he saw the flash of hurt inher eyes and his eyes narrowed as he remembered the reactionof his family toFarrahTyndall.

 `My family must accept my decision: And they would, hemused, because the senior members of his family had been informedthat the marriage was designed to benefit Tazkash.`You are my choice. That is all there is to be said.'

 `Oh, I'm sure they'll just welcome me with open arms.'She pulled her hand away from his and drew her knees up, her position as defensive as a child.`Your cousins, uncles. Aunts—none of them wanted me near you, Tariq. I was seenas a threat. They made sure that my time in your palace wasa, unhappy as possible.'

 He decided that the pursuit of his goal dictated that heoverlook the criticism of his family.`Because you were thefirst woman who had ever truly interested me.You threatenedthem with your outspoken ways and your dazzling looks.'

 And by her pedigree.

 The reputation ofSylviaTyndalland her subsequent deathhad attracted sufficient negative press attention to ensure thather daughter was viewed with the same suspicion.

 Farrah lifted her chin. `Five years ago I would have believedthat, but you taught me not to be naive. You taught me thatactions always have a reason. I want to know your reason.'

 Why, he asked himself with mounting exasperation, didshe pick this particular moment to suddenly discover the meaning of cynicism? `Once, we were the best of friends.Give me the chance to prove to you that we can be so again.Give me the chance to prove that we'd be good together. Twoweeks, that's all I ask. Stay with me for two weeks. If at theend of that time you still wish to return home, then I will arrange it. You have my word.'

 `Why would I agree to stay for two weeks?'

 He lifted a plate of delicacies that she'd almost finished.`Because what we have is worth exploring further.No manhas made you feel the way I make you feel.'

 `You're arrogant.' But he heard the husky edge to her voiceand smiled, knowing that he was winning the argument.

 'I'mhonest,laeela.And if I am wrong, how can you lose?In two weeks you can walk away.'

 And she'd definitely be walking away in six, leaving himwith control of her father's company.

 She licked her lips. `And what are we going to do for twoweeks?'

 'All the things you enjoyed on your last visit.' Relieved tosee her wavering, he kept his tone was warm and persuasive. ‘ If it helps, think of it as a holiday.'

 She hesitated, her eyes on his face. `I don't think so. Aholiday is the last thing I need—'

 `Maybe it's exactly what you need. I know that I hurt you.You have never been involved with another man since me,'he said quietly. `Isn't that true?'

 Her eyes widened with shock. `How do you know that?Are you having me followed?'

 He made a mental note to destroy the file he had on her that was currently locked inside his desk back in the palaceat Fallouk.

 `No, but you still wear my ring.'

 Her chin lifted defensively. `I've already told you why.'`I don't think so,laeela,'Tariq murmured `You wear the ring because our time together was special. The least you cando isgive us a chance to see what might have been.'

 She eyed him warily. `That would make me stupid.'

 `That would make you sensible,' he contradicted swiftly, be­stowing a smile on her anxious face. She was deliciously trans­parent and always had been.She still wanted him but, like atypical woman, she needed to justify the need that burned insideher.`If a love is so great that it keeps you from forming a re­lationship with another man, is it not at least worth anotherlook?'

 Their eyes held and he felt the tension rise between them,saw indecision as her mind fought the battle betweencommon sense and the powerful connection between them.The rational and the irrational.

 `I can't just take time out of my life without warning,' shemuttered finally. I'd have to make some phone calls. I wasn'texpecting to take a holiday.'

 Wondering how one could take a holiday from a life thatcontained nothing but social engagements, Tariq gave a nod.'Of course.You shall make whatever calls are necessary togiveyou peace of mind.'

 Having won the battle, he was willing to make whateverminor concessions were necessary in order to allow her to feelcomfortable with her decision.

  

 She must be mad.

 Why hadn't she just insisted that he put her on a plane andfly her home? She'd gone into his tent intending to demand exactly that. But somehow he'd talked her into staying.

 Appalled atherself , Farrah called the riding school where she worked and explained that she wouldn't be able to comein for two weeks. Then she called a couple of close friendsand told them she was going to be travelling for a while.

 It wasn't an entirely ridiculous decision, she told herselfas she paced the length of her tent, too wound up to even con­template sleep. Tariqhadhaunted her dreams for five years. He was right when he claimed to be the reason she'd neverbecome involved with another man.

 Maybe spending some time with him was just what sheneeded to help her put him out of her mind, once and for all.

 Once she saw that they had nothing in common, it wouldbe easier to walk away.

 Having justified what appeared to be an utterly ridiculousdecision on her part, she slipped out of her dress and climbedinto bed, her mind still spinning. She'd spend the next two weeks doing all the things she enjoyed doing, she decided.And two weeks of non-stop exposure to Tariq should be morethan enough to remindher what a cold-hearted, arrogant in­dividual he was.

 And then she'd fly home. And she'd move on.

 No more sultans for her.

  

 CHAPTER SIX

  

 THEYspent every day exploring the desert.

 Tariq took her dune driving and wadi bashing, speeding along the empty river beds until Farrah gasped at the sheerexhilaration of the experience. And then he let her take a turnbehind the wheel and taught her to do it. And he proved tobe a gifted and patient teacher as he showed her how to drive in sand, how to alter the tyre pressure and how to use the so­phisticated global positioning system.

 `If I'd known how to do this a few days ago I'd be back inEnglandnow,' she said dryly and he dealt her a smile that wasdisturbingly attractive.

 `Then I'm thankful that I have postponed the lesson untilthis point. Are you interested in the local wildlife?’

 'Snakes and scorpions?'

 His smile widened.`On this occasion, no. I had somethingmore fluffy and appealing in mind.'

 `Fluffy and appealing?'Despite her resolutions not to beaffected by him, she couldn't stop the laughter. `Is thatanother one of your stereotypical views of women? We likethe fluffy and appealing?'

 `You would, perhaps, prefer the scaly and poisonous?'

 She shuddered, still laughing.`No, thanks. On this occasionI'm happy to fall into the box you've designed.'

 'Box?"

 'Yes. You put all women in the same little box because youbelieve that we all have the same characteristics.'

 'For you, Farrah,' he said dryly, `I have designed your own,private box. And now look—' He gestured for her to turn off theengine and leaned across, sliding an arm across her shouldersas he pointed across the sand dunes. `There. What do you see?'

 He was so close she could hardly breathe. Her nose pickedup his elusive masculine scent and her eyes were drawn tothe dark hair that clustered on his forearms. He had strongarms, she thought absently, trying to concentrate on what hewas saying. Following the line of his gaze, she gave a softgasp of delighted surprise.'Oh—Tariq.' The animal stoodstill, eyes huge, as if sensing danger. Even though they wereinside the vehicle, Farrah dropped her voice to a whisper. `It'sgorgeous. What is it?’

 'A type of gazelle.They were hunted almost to the pointof extinction,' he told her, `but this is now a protected areaand the numbers are recovering. That particular project was a success in conservation terms.'

 Farrah stared at the creature, fascinated.`A protected area?It looks like desert—'

 `And, of course, it is-'his tone was amused `-but this par­ticular part of the desert is protected. We restrict the amountof off-road driving because it damages the vegetation andthreatens the animals. There are several such sites in Tazkash.'

 She turned to look at him and caught her breath. His head was close to hers as he leaned forward to get a better look atthe animal. The dark stubble on his jaw seemed merely to in­tensify his masculinity and she swallowed.

 `I never knew you were interested in conservation.'

 His eyes slid to hers, his gaze faintly mocking. `As you arealways pointing out, there is much that we have yet todiscover about each other.' His eyes dropped to her mouth and lingered, leaving her in no doubt that he was referring tomore than his dedication to local wildlife. `It is my responsibility to act as custodian for this country. Part of my job isto protect our heritage for future generations and that includesthe wildlife.'

 `Your job?’

 'Of course.'He gave a casual shrug and withdrew his arm,leaning back against his seat. `Mine is a job like any other.'

 `Notlike any other,' she said dryly and he smiled.

 `Perhaps not.Although, in truth, my role bears similarityto that of any other chief executive of a large organization.It certainly comes with the same number of major headaches.'

 And she knew that he'd made an enormous success of thebusiness. `Most CEOs don't have the autonomy that youhave. You just give an order and everyone stumbles over eachother to carry it out.'

 He threw his head back and laughed in genuine amuse­ment. `How I wish it were that simple,laeela.I spend my lifeplaying politics.Persuading people.Preparing arguments. It's like an ongoing game of chess. I must anticipate everymove that my opponent is likely to make and act accordingly.Introducing just small elements of change often requiresmonths, if not years, of careful manoeuvring on my part.'

 She looked at him, interested. `What do you want tochange?’

 'It is important that Tazkash remains competitive and a realforce if our people are to thrive and be safe.' His handsomeface was grimly serious. `But progress must not come at theexpense of our heritage. The preservation of our culture is im­ portant. My job is to find a way of weaving the past into thefuture so that the people benefit. Oil will not support us for everand we need to find alternative ways of generating revenue.'

 `You really care about the people who live here.' It was astatement rather than a question and he nodded.

 'Of course.It's important to understand the way of life ofour people. Where we came from and where we are going. We are used to exploiting a harsh environment and it's im­portant to understand the problems our people face. Lately we have been exploring water courses and irrigation sys­tems—’

 She listened in fascination as he outlined the variousprojects that were currently ongoing to make life easier forthe people. And she asked endless questions and added herown thoughts.

 Their conversations continued over the days that followed,becoming more complex and stimulating, often lasting wellinto the night as they ate by the light and warmth of a bonfire.

 He taught her to read the stars as his ancestors had once done and showed her how to watch for signs of changes inthe weather.

 `You love it here, don't you?' She stared at his face,bronzed and handsome in the flickering firelight.Saw himnod.

 `In the desert, life is simple.' Idly, he tossed a stick into thefire and watched it flame and crackle. `I suppose in a differ­ent life, this is where I would belong.Where I would chooseto be.'

 She hid her surprise. She'd assumed that he enjoyed theluxury and pomp that was part of palace life at Fallouk. It hadn't occurred to her that maybe he was playing a part, just as she did.

 `I can understand that.' Her voice was soft as she laid backon the cushions and rugs that had been placed by the fire fortheir comfort. `It's blissful. I love everything about it.'

 `And yet, by now you must be bored. You don't have topretend with me.' He shot her an amused glance. `You are young and very beautiful. I'm sure you must be missing your usual round of parties. Here in the desert, we lack that manyexcuses to dress up.'

 Part of her wanted to tell him the truth-confess that shehated the constant round of parties and meaningless mingling.But he was a man whoexpected awoman to fulfil thatrole—­expected a woman to be like her mother. Having been soutterly consumed by Tariq in the past,having trusted himenough to bare her very soul to him,could she risk giving hima glimpse of what lay behind the glittering shell that she'd socarefully created? Did she dare confide her innermostsecrets? No. Such a confession would make her too vulner­able. Fortunately she'd grown so used to concealing her trueself from all but a few close friends that deception cameeasily. `The desert has many charms,' she said finally, `andlife isn't all about parties, although I do miss my friends, ofcourse. I have a few good friends that I've had from child­ hood and I'd trust them with my life. I've learned to be waryof strangers. Haven't you? Is there anyone that you trulytrust, Tariq?' She turned her head towards him. Saw thetension in his broad shoulders.

 When he finally answered, his voice was quiet.`No,'hereplied. `There isn't. But that is the price you pay for being in my position.'

 She couldn't imagine being without her friends. `It's a highprice.'

 `Not to me. I've never felt the need to confide in people.'

 `Everyone needs someone,' Farrah said softly, wrigglinginto a more comfortable position on the rug. `Being loved forwho you truly are is the best thing in the world.The only thingthat really matters.The rest of it-the money, the lifestyle,that isn't real.' She knew that better than anyone.Had seenher mother seduced and destroyed by the empty glamour.

 `I thought you loved all the glitter and bright lights.'

 She quickly realized how much she'd betrayed. `I do,' she said hastily, `but there are other things that mattertoo...'Hervoice trailed off and he lifted an eyebrow in question.

 'So—'his voice was low and persuasive, his eyes gleamingdark in the firelight `--what else matters to you,FarrahTyn­dall?"

 For a moment she thought about the children she worked with. About her job at the riding school and the fact that noone knew who she really was. How her identity, her money,didn't matter. But her other life was her last defense. She hadto keep that part of her-'f locked away from him. `Oh—­er—'she struggled to think of something plausible `--charitywork, that sort of thing.' She sounded intentionally vague and he studied her for a moment, his dark eyes searching.

 `You can do charity work in Tazkash if that is what youwish. As my wife, it would be expected of you.'

 Her heart flipped. Every angle of his strong, handsomeface was designed to make an artist drool. He was every inchthe arrogant prince and she couldn't look at him withoutcatching her breath. Being so close to him for the past twoweeks had been a delicious kind of torture. But he hadn'ttouched her. Not once. This was the first time he'd men­tioned marriage since the night of her attempted escape andher reaction worried her. She should have leaped to her feetand run for cover; instead, she felt drawn to him.`Your wife?' Just saying the words sent a thrill running through her bodyand she closed her eyes to hide what she was feeling.

 She'd done it again.

 Despite her best intentions, despite everything that hadgone before, she'd let herself fall in love with him again.She'd opened her heart and let him in.

 Not the Sultan, she realized as she opened her eyes andlooked at him. She'd never been interested in his status. LikeNadia, she'd fallen in love with the man, not the title or thepromise of riches. It was the man who interested her. The manthat she saw whenever they were here at Nazaar. There was a part of him that he only seemed to reveal in the desert.

 He was watching her. `We agreed not to talk about it fortwo weeks. That time is up tomorrow. Until then the subjectis banned.'

 She stared at him, suddenly uncertain. Did he still wanther? Was he intending to renew his proposal? Or had twoweeks in the desert with her been enough to convince himonce more that she was unsuitable wife material? Suddenlyshe needed to change the subject. `Did your parents bring youhere when you were young?'

 He tensed and a muscle flickered in his strong jaw. `No.My mother loved life in the Palace. She would rather havedied than spend time in the desert. She needed civilization atall times.'

 It was the first time he'd ever mentioned his mother. Thefirst time he'd ever told her anything remotely personal abouthimself. Maybe it was the darkness or maybe it was theintimacy of the conversation, but suddenly she felt truly closeto him for the first time. It was just the two of them and thecrackling fire.`And your father?’

 'My father was busy with affairs of state.'

 `But you were his only child. He must have spent sometime with you.'

 His face was expressionless. `Raising a child wasn't his role.'

 `What about playing with you? Reading to you?' Shethought of her own father and the hours of fun they'd hadtogether. `Surely you must have spent some time together?’

 'He allocated time each week to teach me what he thoughtI'd need to know about ruling Tazkash.'

 Ruling?She wanted to ask about play. Wanted to knowwhether he'd ever had any fun with his parents, but the answerwas in his face. `That sounds pretty lonely.' She felt a twist of sympathy for what he'd missed.

 `On the contrary—' he gave a bitter laugh `—to be lonelywould have been a blessing. I was surrounded by staff fromthe moment I was born I had three nannies, several tutors and a w hole team of bodyguards briefed to watch my every move.To be lonely was never more than an elusive dream.'

 'Youcan be surrounded by people and still be lonely,' she said quietly. `If the people around you don't love and under­stand you, then you can be extremely lonely.'

 'Are you speaking from experience?'

 Her eyes flew to his. `No, I-' She broke off and licked herlips as she tried to make good her mistake. `My father workedvery hard, of course, but my mother was always around.'

 `You are close to your father?’

 'He's my hero,' she said simply, reaching her handstowards the warmth of the fire. `Despite her faults he adoredmy mother, and he never found another woman who meantthe same to him. He brought me up to believe in one speciallove and never to settle for anything less.'

 She couldn't read his expression. `That's a very romantic view.'

 `It's how it was for my parents,' Farrah said quietly. `Tellme how you came to spend time in the desert. If your parentsdidn't bring you here, then who did?'

 His eyes lifted to hers and he stared at her for a longmoment. `When I was seven, one of my tutors decided thatI needed to broaden my education, to understand my rootsand the ways of our people. He brought me to Nazaar.'

 `And you loved it.'

 `Oh, yes.' He leaned over and topped up her glass. `I shallsteal one of your over-the-top romantic expressions and saythat it was love at first sight.'

 She lifted an eyebrow in mockery. `Getting soppy on me,Tariq?’

 'Perhaps.'He flashedher a smile that was so charismaticshe felt her stomach perform a series of acrobatic moves.`Blame the stars.'

 She stared up at the tiny dots that sparkled and patterned.he sky. `Did your parents love each other? Were they happy together?'

 He hesitated. `To answer that, I will have to shatter yourromantic illusions. They wereextremely unhappy. And theresult of that was that they spent virtually no time together. It was very much a marriage of political convenience.'

 `Then it's no wonder you don't believe in love.'

 His eyes narrowed. `How do you know I don't believe inlove?'

 'Nadia and the Sultan.'She sat up and rested her chin onher knees, her expression dreamy. `When we talked about ityou always disagreed with me. You could never understandthe degree of passion that might make death seem a betteroption than losing the love of your life. You were always prac­tical. Now I understand why.'

 `Perhaps I just don't believe that marriage is the only wayof expressing true passion.'

 'Ah—so finally we're back to sex again.’ Her eyes gleamedand his mouth curved into a sardonic smile.

 `You have the two so neatly separated in your head. Doyou not know that sex can be an expression of love?'

 Oh, yes, she knew that.Suddenly breathlessly aware of hisbody close to hers, she felt her heart stop. In the two weeks they'd spent together he hadn't once touched her. But it hadbeen there between them all the time.Simmering passion. Hewas biding his time and she knew it. And she had to admitthat the slow build of anticipation had only added to her ownexcitement.

 Never could she have imagined that it was possible towant a man as much as she wanted him.

 He lounged by the fire next to her and her gaze was drawn to his lean, muscular legs and upwards to his broad shoulders. He had a powerfully athletic physique and suddenly she knewthat if he chose to touch her now she wouldn't be able to resisthim. He was the one. The only man she would ever love. The only man she wouldever want. Like Nadia, she knew shewould never be able to be with another.

 And something had changed between them over the pasttwo weeks.

 He was gradually opening up to her. Revealing parts ofhimself that he'd kept carefully hidden.Confiding in her,even though she could tell that it was difficult for him.Wouldhe do that if he felt nothing? Would he do that if all he caredabout were sex?

 Aware that he was watching her with those disturbing darkeyes, she scraped her hair away from her eyes and gave hima self-conscious smile.

 'Where are we going tomorrow?'

 His gaze didn't shift from hers and he didn't hesitate.`Tothe Caves of Zatua.Time to indulge your passion for ourlegend, laeela.'

 'I haven't been there for five years.'

 'Then we must hope the trip lives up to your romantic ex­pectations.'

 There was something in his lazy drawl that made her look at him searchingly but there were no clues to be found in hisslightly amused gaze.

 Was it coincidence that he'd chosen to take her there at theend of the promised two weeks? She wanted to ask whetherthey'd be on their own, but she wasn't sure whether shewanted that to be the case. In fact, she didn't know what shewanted anymore. Her resolve to stay away from him hadbeen weakened by their growing intimacy and the slow throbof unfulfilled passion that grew stronger each day.

 She didn't know what she wanted anymore, but it was timeto decide because she knew that a man like Tariq wouldn'tbe prepared to wait much longer.

 Tariq lay by the fire long after she'd retired to bed.

 What,he wondered to himself,had come over him?Neverbefore had he felt even the smallest desire to discuss his pastwith a woman, let alone a woman that he intended to divorcea mere forty days after the wedding.

 He wasn't the confiding type—had never felt the need tospill his guts to anyone, man or woman. It wasn't his style and never had been. From childhood he'd been taught tocontrol andcontain his emotions, and that was what he'd always done.

 So why had he just spent a long evening telling FarrahTyndall things about himself that even his closest advisersdidn't know?

 He'd even talked about his mother and that was somethingthat he'dneverbeen driven to do before.

 With a soft curse he ran a hand over the back of his neckand put his uncharacteristic behaviour down to physical frus­tration. He saw her on a daily basis but he'd made a strategic decision not to touch her. To give her the space she so obvi­ously thought she needed. He was not accustomed to exercis­ing such self-denial but, on this occasion, he was willing to dowhatever it took to bring this deal to a successful conclusion.

 And the strangest thing of all was that he'd actuallyfound himself enjoying her company on their lengthy trips together. She'd shown herself to be surprisingly intelligentand well informed.

 But, he reminded himself quickly, that was only becausehe'd removed all opportunity for her to indulge her partyhabit.

 Given the right set of circumstances, he had no doubt thatFarrahTyndallwould revert to type and become the shallow socialite again. It was fortunate that he had plans for curbingher addiction to the empty lifestyle that she enjoyed so much. He'd decided to make the most of their limited time together.

 For the short duration of their marriage she would remainconfined to his bed.

 After two frustratingly long weeks of unnatural celibacy,letting herwalk away untouched had tested his control to itslimits but he told himself that it was only for one more night.

 Every thing was in place. Everything was arranged.

 He'd given her two weeks to make up her mind and thetwo weeks was up tomorrow.

 Tomorrow she would be his.

 Their marriage would take place. The shares would be his.

 And after forty days and forty nights he would divorce her.

  

 They left at lunchtime, driving across the dusty sun-bakeddunes towards the Caves of Zatua.

 Farrah sat in silence, painfully aware of the feverishtension that was building between them. He was so close andshe was aware of every move he made. Ignoring him hadbecome impossible. What was it about this man that made itso difficult to breathe? Why was it that she couldn't look athim and not think about sex? She wasn't like that and neverhad been. She had plenty of male friends and she neveroncethought about sex in their company. With Tariq it seemed shecould think about nothing else.

 The attraction she felt was becoming almost intolerable.It was hard to be in such a confined space and not reach forhim. She wanted to slide her hands through that luxuriantblack hair, run her fingers along his roughened jaw and sinkher teeth into his bronzed muscular shoulder. She wanted tostrip his clothes off and see him naked! And yet not onceduring the fortnight they'd just spent together had he made amove in her direction.

 After that first steamy kiss in the car on the way to thecamp—a kiss that had been merely a manoeuvre on his part—­he hadn't made a single sexual overture.

 They'd talked, he'd taken her on endless trips and the}''deaten meals together. Occasionally his hand lingered on hers a moment longer than was strictly necessary and sometimesshe caught him looking at her with that deadly gleam in hiseyes. But he hadn't kissed her again.

 And yet neither of them could fail to be aware that thefortnight that he'd promised was now complete. Today wasthe last day.

 When was he going to ask her for her decision?

 And what was her decision going to be?

 As she walked towards the entrance of the caves she thoughtof Nadia. Was this how she had felt before she'd plunged intoher passionate affair with the Sultan? Had she had doubts or had love and passion swept away common sense?

 In his usual decisive fashion, Tariq grasped her hand, his long strong fingers closing over hers.

 `Come.' It was a command and she followed his lead,walking next to him into the huge cavern that guarded theentrance to the labyrinth of caves.

  

 The first cavern was alight with flickering candles and intri­cately woven rugs had been placed on the ground. Tariqglanced around him with satisfaction.

 Everything had been carried out exactly as he'd instructed.

 He heard her shocked, delighted gasp and knew that theeffort on his part had produced the desired response.

 She turned to him, her gaze a mixture of delight and con­fusion. `It's so beautiful,' she breathed. `Who did this?’

 'I did. I'm trying to demonstrate that I'm capable of ro­mance.' His smile held a hint of wry self-mockery. `You'vealways loved these caves. They mean a great deal to you.whichis why I have chosen to bring you here to ask you thequestion that has been on both our minds for the past two weeks. Marry me.Farrah.' He watched with satisfaction as the breath left her body in a soft rush.

 `That sounded more like a command than a question.' Shelifted a hand and placed it on the centre of his chest, her touchlight and teasing.

 'I want you as my wife. I've been patient for two weeks.Now I need to hear your answer. If the answer is yes, thenyouwillmarry me here.'

 She stilled, a flare of shock lighting her green eyes. `Youwant to marry me here?Now?In the caves?'

 'What better place than where Nadia and her Sultan firstdiscovered their love and where we too first discovered ourfeelings for each other?'

 The thoughtful silence that greeted his words was not whathe had expected. He felt his tension levels soar, althoughwhy that should be the case escaped him. He was a man who positively thrived on complex business negotiations. The safeand the predictable bored him. He preferred the impossibleto the possible. Having reminded himself of the facts, hewaited for the usual adrenaline buzz that accompanied the climax of each major deal. Instead he felt something moreakin to—panic?

 He dismissed the thought instantly, reminding himself ofthe far-reaching implications of failing to close this particu­lar deal. It was natural that her answer should take on greaterthan average importance, he assured himself.

 Determined to sway her decision, Tariq slid an arm roundher waist and clamped her against him. `Say yes. And say it quickly,' he commanded. `My patience is running out.'

 `What patience is that? It seems to me that whenever youwant something, you just dish out orders and it happens.'

 `So I know what I want and I go after it. What's wrong withthat?' He gave an arrogant lift of his head, deciding that he'dhad enough of tiptoeing round the edges. `I want you in mybed and in my life. And I have shown a great deal of patienceup until this point. No other woman hasevermade me waitthe way you have made me wait.'

 And he'd had enough of waiting. Staring down into her soft green eyes, he felt lust spear his body. She was exquisiteand really he was to be congratulated for having waited this long.

 She raised an eyebrow. `Learning to wait for somethinghas probably been good for your emotional development.'

 `My emotions are in excellent health, thank you,' hegroaned, lowering his head and kissing her neck.She smeltof paradise.`I'd be grateful for an answer any time you feelready to give it. Just make sure it's in the next three seconds.'

 `I feel as though I'm standing on the top of one of your highest sand dunes,' she confessed in a soft voice. `I don'tknow whether to step back and opt for safety or whether toplunge forward and risk the danger of falling.'

 His eyes gleamed. `Life with no danger becomes nothingmore than an existence. Danger is what makes the miracle oflife so precious,laeela.Only when you take risks can youknow what it is like to truly live.'

 `Spoken like a devotee of extreme sports,' she said dryly.`Before I give you my answer, I need to ask you one question, Tariq.' She stared up at him, a strange light in her eyes. `AndI need you to answer honestly.'

 Immediately on the defensive, Tariq racked his brains inan attempt to work out if he'd overlooked something. If hehad, then it was going to be difficult to provide it at this latestage. `Ask your question.'

 She hesitated, almost as if she were afraid to voice whatwas in her head. `Why do you want to marry me?'

 He relaxed.`That's easy—' He gave a confident smile.`You're beautiful, you're good company, I enjoy talking toyou and you amuse me. I even like the way you speak withoutany attempt at censorship—' He broke off, astonished at thelength of the list and by the fact that the question had beenso easy to answer.

 `What you've described is friendship, Tariq.'

 He frowned, wondering why she wasn't as impressed bythe length of the list as he was. `And shouldn't a goodmarriage be about friendship?'

 It was more than his own parents had ever had, hethought bitterly.

 'Of course, but there has to be more than friendship.'

 Deciding that physical contact was called for, Tariq gavea smile and pulled her firmly into his arms. `Of course thereis more to marriage than friendship. There is also an amazingattraction between us.' He slid his hands over the rounded curve of her bottom, mentally applauding himself for havingdisplayed such uncharacteristic self-control up until this point. In view of his restraint, it was surely impossible forher to misinterpret his intentions. `That goes without saying.'

 She pushed at his chest, trying to hold him at a distance.`That's sex, Tariq. So far you've mentioned friendship andsex. Neither of those are reasons to get married. The most im­portant ingredient is missing.'

 Alarm bells rang in his head.

 It was obvious what she believed the missing ingredientto be.

 Like a cornered lion, Tariq felt rising apprehension anddiscomfort. That feeling of panic took him by the throat. Itwas clear to him that she wanted him to say,Ilove you.Every muscle in his body tensed anda sheen of sweat broke out onhis brow as he steeled himself to say the three words he'dspent his entire life avoiding.

 Still trying to circumvent the issue, his mind quickly ran through a few possible alternatives.You're very beautiful. Iwant you in my bed. You're good company.

 He'd already tried all those andstillshe wasn't satisfied.One glance at the expectation in her shining eyes was sufficient to convince him that substitute words were not going to suffice.

 He took a deep breath and licked his lips. How hardcould it be?

 `You're an amazing woman—'

 `Thank you.' Her eyes gleamed with ironic humour. `I'mglad you think so, but it isn't a reason to marry.'

 Was she doing this intentionally to torture him?`I—'Heran a hand over the back of his neck and she gave a soft laugh and wrapped her arms round his neck, her eyes dancing, hersmile warm and trusting.

 `Just three little words, Tariq.How hard can it be?'

 Very hard,as he was fast discovering.He stiffened andsteeled himself to make the effort that was so obviouslyrequired of him but she hugged him tightly and stood ontiptoe to kiss his cheek.

 `You've never said those words to anyone before, haveyou, Tariq?'

 He shook his head, his eyes wary. She was smiling.Whywas she smiling?

 `I know you love me.' She said the words quietly. `But I'mgoing to need to hear you say it.Often. So you're going to have to practice. And yes, I'll marry you.'

 She knew he loved her? How?

 He was so busy wondering exactlywhichpart of his be­haviour had suggested to her that he was in love that it tookhim a few moments to realize that she'd given him the answerhe'd been waiting for.

 `You will marry me?' The degree of pleasure he experi­enced at her words surprised and unsettled him. But then hereminded himself that this marriage was the final part of an important business deal on his part. A deal that had provedfar more complex than he'd anticipated. Of course he hadevery right to be pleased. He would take over her father'scompany. The pipeline could be built. The future of Tazkashwas secure. 'You're saying yes?’

 'I'm saying yes because you've finally proved that you un­derstandme.' she said softly, her expression dreamy as shelooked up at him. `You didn't arrange for some enormous formal wedding with loads of boring guests. You arrangedthis—' She waved a hand around the illuminated cave. `Andthis is the most romantic thing you could have done. It's justyou and me. It's about the two of us and no one else. Andthat's how I know you love me.'

 Slightly stunned at her interpretation of what he'd consid­ered to be no more than an elaborate business plan, Tariqsmiled. 'Obviously we need someone to marry us and wit­nesses—’ ­

 'And, knowing you, there are several of your staff waitingat this moment to receive your call.'

 `How do you know that?'

 'Because you're a very controlling personality,' she teased, `and I know you wouldn't have set this up without havingthought of everything.'

 He found the fact that someone knew him that well vaguelydisconcerting. Never before had he gained the impression that women had even the remotest understanding of the workingsof the male sex. Farrah was proving to be disturbingly astute.

 `So—'she glanced down at herself with a rueful smile,`--did you think of clothing, or am I getting married in myjeans?’

 'Yasmina has brought you a dress.'

 `Good.' She reached up and kissed him. `So let's get onwith it, shall we?'

  

 CHAPTER SEVEN

  

 FARRAHstood in her wedding dress, trying to remember amoment in her life when she'd felt happier.

 She'd just married the man that she loved in a place that hadalways been special to her. And it had beenincrediblyromantic.

 Vows had been exchanged in front of witnesses. She waswearing his ring.

 It was hard to see how life could be better.

 Overwhelmed with happiness, she turned to Tariq andhugged him tightly. `I love you so much.' His powerful framewent rigid in response to her unguarded declaration and shefelt his immediate withdrawal. Pulling away slightly, shetipped her head back so that she could see his face. Thick dark lashes shielded the expression in his eyes but his mouth washard and unsmiling. She felt a sudden flash of uncertainty.And insecurity.`It makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it, whenI hug you?'

 His hesitation was barely perceptible. `It's not a problem.You may hug me if you wish. I understand that women have a greater need for affection than men.'

 As answers went, it wasn't entirely reassuring. `I don'tthink that's true. It's just that men aren't always comfortablewith their emotions.'

 But she was going to make him comfortable, she decided.

 She was going to make him open up and confide in her.

 He studied her, a curious expression in his eyes. `I'venever met anyone quite like you before,' he confessed, hisvoice slightly unsteady. `You're very affectionate. You don'thold anything back. You don't hide anything.'

 She felt a sharp pang of guilt, aware that there wasahugepart of herself that she was hiding. Concealing her true self had become second nature to her, so much so that even now,when everything had changed between them, she couldn'tquite bring herself reveal the person she really was.

 Anyway, what was the hurry? Tariq needed a wife whowas prepared to socialize. He didn't want or need to hear thatit wasn't her favourite pastime. Hadn't he approached her asecond time because she'd shown that she was capable of holding her own on the social scene that he frequented?

 She smiled, thinking that part of the fun of their marriagewould be making discoveries about each other. `I certainly think it's important to tell someone that you love them.'

 And if she was a little disappointed that he still hadn't saidthose words to her, she pushed the emotion away. After ev­erything he'd told her about his childhood, was it really sur­prising that he had trouble showing his emotions? They weredifficult words to say if you'd never been encouraged to saythem, and clearly Tariq had never been allowed to express hisemotions in any way. She'd be wrong to expect too much ofhim too quickly.

 She understood only too well the impact that one's up­bringing could have on behaviour.

 Food was served against the backdrop of the setting sun,but Farrah found it hard to eat anything at all. Her nerves werejumping and her stomach was churning and she was breath­lessly aware of Tariq, lounging on the rug right next to her.

 He wasasmuch at home here in the desert as he was in his palace, she thought, watching as he selected various del­icacies and placed them on her plate.

 `You're not eating,laeela.’His voice was low and seduc­tive and his eyes swept her face in question. `You have lostyour appetite?'

 The way he looked at her sent a jolt of awareness throughher body and she managed a shaky smile. `I'm not thathungry.' They were surrounded by a discreet army of staff andyet it was as if they were alone.

 Casting a final lingering glance in her direction, Tariq rose to his feet in a smooth athletic movement and dismissed thestaff with an imperious wave of his bronzed hand.

 `Why are you sending them away?' Farrah watched insurprise as the staff melted away to the Jeeps. `We still haveto drive back to the camp.'

 `Not tonight.' He drew her to her feet, very much incommand of the situation. `Tonight we stay in the caves.'

 `Here?' She looked up at his arrogant, proud features and her heart thudded against her chest. `We'resleepingin thecave?'

 His answering smile was both seductive and dangerous.`I don't anticipate much sleeping,laeela,but yes, we arespending the night in the cave. Like Nadia and her Sultan.'

 As she watched the last of the convoy pull away fromthe caves Farrah licked her lips and her eyes slid back tohis.`On our own?'

 His eyes held a hint of mockery. `For what I have in mind,I don't require an audience.'

 Her pulse rate surged at an alarming rate. `I can't believeyou've arranged this—'

 `Despite what you say about me, I am trying to understand you. You grew up dreaming of Nadia and her Sultan, togetherin this cave. Their relationship was the centre of all yourchildish fantasies.' His voice was husky and he lifted a handand withdrew the pins from her hair, allowing it to fall unre­strained around her shoulders. `And I am more than preparedto indulge your fantasies.'

 'Tariq-'

 His hand tightened over hers and he led her along thenarrow passageway that led through the rocks to the secondcave. Again it was lit with candles and the rugs were strewnwith cushions and velvet throws. The atmosphere was seduc­tive and intimate.

 `Oh—'Shestared in amazement. `You planned all this?’

 'Of course.I remembered that you didn't like the darkwhen we first came here five years ago. And now that is def­initely enough talking. For two whole weeks we have donenothing but talk.' He groaned and hauled her against him ina decisive movement. `Have youanyidea how long I've beenwaiting to undress you?'

 Her stomach flipped over with nerves. `You married mejust so that you can undress me?'

 `I was getting to the point where I would have done almostanything in order to win the right to undress you,' he con­fessed unsteadily, his arm anchored firmly around her hips.

 Held against his hard, muscular strength she felt her limbsweaken. `Are we going to blow out the candles?’

 'No.Definitely not. I want to see all of you.' His voice washusky as he trailed burning kisses down her neck. `I want tosee your face when I finally make love to you.'

 His words sent a wicked thrill through her body. 'Tariq—'

 `I haveneverwanted a woman as much as I want you—'

 Breathless and trembling with anticipation, she told herselfthat it didn't matter that he couldn't actually bring himself to say the words she wanted to hear so badly. He'd married herand the ceremony had been full of romantic gestures. He'dshown her that he loved her. That was enough. Finally she'dmet a man who lovedher, rather than her money or herfather's influence. In time she'd teach him how to be com­ fortable with his emotions.

 `You haven't touched me for the past fortnight—'

 `Because I didn't want you accusing me of only wanting you for sex,' he muttered as his mouth hovered over hers. `I'vetaken so many cold showers that my staff are beginning to question my sanity. And I've been trying so hard to under­stand you that my brain is aching.'

 He slid a hand into her hair and tilted her head back toallow him better access. His mouth was close, soclose,and the heat and anticipation built inside her.

 She'd waited so long for this moment. She'd imagined,she'd dreamed­—

 'So—' He raked his fingers through her long hair, his gazehungry as he scanned her face. `What did the Sultan do next, do you think,laeela?'

 Her heart pounded against her ribs. `I expect he undressedher slowly.'

 `Slowly?'One ebony brow lifted and there was a sardonicgleam in his eyes. `In that case I think we could have hit ourfirst problem.' His gaze holding hers, he released her andstepped back. Then he reached inside his robes, withdrew adagger and with a swift, precise movement of the deadlyblade he cut her dress from neck to waist.

 The priceless white silk slithered into a pool at her feet andshe gave a gasp of shock. 'Tariq—'

 He tossed the dagger casually to one side and gave an apol­ogetic shrug of his broad shoulders. `It is entirely possible thatI'm not as patient as your Sultan,' he confessed in a regret­ful tone that held more humour than sincerity. `Where you'reconcerned, I don't do "slow". I've waited five years for thismoment and that is long enough.' His eyes glowed dark with purpose and her breath caught in her throat.

 What woman could fail to be flattered by the burning needshe saw in his gaze? What woman could fail to feel powerfuland feminine when on the receiving end of such a blatantlysexual appraisal?

 He wanted her.He wanted her so much that he couldn'teven be bothered with a,fewbuttons.

 Tariq muttered something unintelligible under his breathand then shed his robes in a few smooth movements. Totallyunselfconscious and with his usual arrogance, he swept herhigh in his arms and lowered her gently on to the piledcushions, his eyes fixed on hers.

 `At last, you are mine—'The words were a clear statementof possession and she gave a shiver of longing.

 `Kiss me,' she breathed against his mouth, the excitementinside her building to breaking point,`please kiss me—'

 And he did.

 `I'm going to discover you piece by piece.' His mouthwas hot and demanding, the skilled and subtle probe of histongue an erotic and intimate prelude to what was to follow.The chemistry between them exploded with frightening force.She felt breathless and dizzy, as though she were poised onthe edge of something dangerous,something that wouldchange her for ever,and instinctively her arms slid round his neck, seeking his protection.

 The flickering candles provided just enough light for herto see the harsh planes of his handsome face, for her to makeout the burning intent glowing in his eyes.

 He shifted slightly, covering her with his lean, powerful frame as his mouth took hers. His kiss was possessive andurgent and she was breathlessly aware of the hard heat of hisbody. She arched in an involuntary movement, hearing hisgroan of approval as he lifted his mouth from hers and trans­ ferred his attention to her breasts.

 The skilled flick of his tongue over her nipple sent sharpstabs of sensation shooting low in her pelvis and she pressedagainst him in an instinctive attempt to soothe the throbbingache that was building within her body.

 It was only as she felt the cool air of the cave whisper overher bare skin that she realized that he'd somehow removedthe last of her clothing. She was naked under him and she feltthe leisurely, seductive stroke of his hand over her thigh.

 `I'm going to torture you with pleasure,' he promised inhusky tones and proceeded to do just that. He kissed andcaressed every part of her body except that one most intimateplace that ached to be touched. He licked the top of her thigh,dragged slow kisses over her stomach, always withholding what she wanted most. She shifted and moved and the acheinside her intensified until it was almost pain and despera­tion rose to screaming pitch.

 Did he know?she wondered. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her?

 And then he lifted his head and she saw the wicked self­-satisfied gleam in his eyes.

 He knew.

 'Tariq, please—' Losing all her inhibitions, she reached for him, her fingers touching him intimately for the first time. Shegave a violent shiver of excitement as she felt the power ofhis aroused manhood, registered his size with a flicker of trep­idation. But, before she could think, he reached down andfinally touched her where she was longing to be touched.

 Sensation merged and mingled until she could no longer dis­tinguish exactly what he was doing to her. His fingers movedwith skill and awareness as he touched and teased until herentire focus was on the incessant, blinding ache deep inside her.

 Everything went from her head except the desperate need forhim. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him on withher body and he slipped an arm under her hips and raised her.

 `Look at me—' His command was hoarse and urgent andher eyes flew wide with shock and breathless abandon as heentered her with a purposeful thrust that joined them in themost intimate way possible.

 Shocked by the size of him, her body instinctively tight­ened and she felt him pause, his eyes darkening as he stared down at her.'Farrah?'

 `Don't stop! Oh, please, don't stop now,' she groaned andhe drew in an unsteady breath and moved again, but this timemore gently.

 Sensation flashed and exploded and she gave a gasp ofpleasure that he misinterpreted.

 `I don't want to hurt you—' He looked strangely uncer­tain and she shook her head.

 `You're not—please, Tariq. I need—I want—' She brokeoff and closed her eyes, unable to verbalize exactly what itwas that she wanted but hoping that he could make the nec­essary translation.

 He did.

 He moved again and the feelings in her body escalateduntil every thought in her head was eclipsed by a sensationso wild and all consuming that she could do no more thancryout his name and move in the way that he urged her to moveas he guided them both towards sexual oblivion.

 When the explosion came it took them both together in ashower of sensation so intense that she clutched at him as if he was the only one that could save her from the madness.

 And perhaps he felt it too because he drove into her hard and then held her against him, murmuring something againsther neck while his body throbbed into hers.

  

 Tariq lay in the dark with Farrah wrapped around him. Herhead was on his chest, strands of blond hair were spread overhis arm and the cushions beneath them and her limbs weretangled with his. Listening to her peaceful steady breathing,he knew that she slept.

 In the aftermath of the most incredible sex of his life he was being forced to re-evaluate almost all his preconceived ideas about marriage. He was shocked to discover that heactually enjoyed the idea that she belonged to him and no oneelse. And the biggest shock of all was the discovery thatshe'd been a virgin.

 It was true that the file on her that currently lay in his desk contained no evidence of her involvement with a man, butnever, not once, had it crossed his mind that she might beinnocent.

 The knowledge that he'd been the first and only man toexperience the seductive passion ofFarrahTyndallbroughta soft smile of masculine satisfaction to his face. But thesmile faded the instant he remembered that in forty days andforty nights he would release her from the bonds of matri­mony, which would leave her free to link up with any manof her choosing.

 And, given the degree of male adulation she'd receivedwhen she'd strolled on to the catwalk, she wasn't going to findany shortage of willing candidates.

 At the mere thought of Farrah with another man he wassuddenly filled witha possessiveness so intense that he con­templated creating a landslide that would trap them in the cavefor ever.

 He had no intention ofeversharing her withanyone.

 Which left him facing a situation he hadn't anticipated.

 He'd entertained the idea of marriage only because heknew that it would be short-lived. The fact that he might notwant to divorce her at the end of forty days and forty nights

 hadn'tcrossed his mind.

 Why would it?FarrahTyndallwas no one's idea of goodwife material. She was flighty and shallow and her prioritieswere all wrong. It would be impossible for him to persuadehis people to take a woman like her to their hearts. The marriage had been no more than a business deal designed to give him ownership of her shares.

 He'd married her only because he knew that divorcewould follow.

 And yet why would he even contemplate ending some­thing which had brought him the greatest pleasure he'd everexperienced?

 The solution was simple, he decided, tightening his gripon her soft, curvaceous body. He wouldn't divorce her. Theywould remain married.

 Instead of taking over the company, he would work in part­nership with her father to build the pipeline. He had no doubtthat, now that he'd actually married Farrah,HarrisonTyndallwould be prepared to reopen negotiations. She need neverknow that the company was his original reason for marryingher.

 And, as for her unfortunate partying habit-he frownedslightly as he searched for a solution. She was surpris­ingly intelligent and she'd coped well with life in thedesert. He just needed to make sure that she was kept wellaway from charity balls and fashion shows. If he kept heron a tight leash and watched her every move in public,could it not work?

 Of course it could. All he had to do was to arrange for herto have an extensive staff to watch her every move when hewasn't around to do so himself.

 With that in place, she could stay as his wife and his plan to divorce her would stay well and truly buried.

 Why risk upsetting her unnecessarily when that situation was now in the past?

 Having found a satisfactory solution designed to keep herby his side for ever, he slid a hand down the smooth skin ofher back and decided that she'ddefinitelyslept for quitelong enough...

 ***

  

 Farrah woke feeling deliciously warm. Her body ached inunusual places and she was instantly aware of Tariq's arms holding her securely against him.

 The memories of the intimacies they'd shared during thenight brought a touch of colour to her cheeks and she liftedher head with a shy smile.

 `Have I told you that I love you and that I think you're in­credible?'

 His dark eyes locked with hers and flashed with fierce de­termination. `You are mine and you're staying that way,' hesaid decisively and she frowned slightly, wondering why hefelt the need to say that after they'd been through a marriageceremony.Ofcourse she was his.

 She pressed a lingering kiss on his bronzed shoulder.`You're possessive, do you know that?Domineering, control­ling and overprotective.'

 His arms tightened around her. `Never before,' he saidhuskily, `but with you, yes. I have discovered the meaning ofall those words. You aremine , always, for ever.'

 Basking in a warm haze of masculine appreciation, Farrahlay back and watched as tiny fingers of light found their wayinto the cave. `I don't ever want to leave here,' she whisperedsoftly. `It's perfect here.'

 Tariq tensed. `It is perfect, but sadly we cannot spend therest of our lives in this cave.'

 `How about the rest of the day?’

 'Not even that, I'm afraid.'

 `What's happened to your controlling, demanding per­sonality? You're the Sultan. Everyone has to obey you.' Sherolled on top of him, blond hair tangling with dark. `You cantell everyone that this is where you're going to live from nowon. They can drop off food parcels.'

 He reached up and pushed her hair away from her face,his expression fierce. `It is what we share that matters,laeelqnot where we choose to share it.'

 `Oh—'Herheart skipped and danced and she lowered herhead and kissed him. `That's the most romantic thing anyonehas ever said to me. And, just for that, I'll forgive you forsaying we have to leave. Are we going back to Nazaar?’

 'Not to Nazaar.'

 Something about the way he was looking at her made hersuddenly anxious and she drew back slightly.`Where, then?Where are we going?'

 `We have to return to Fallouk.'

 Fallouk.

 The word made an ugly dent in the smooth, warm atmo­sphere. Farrah sat upright, blond hair sliding over her shoul­ders, horror on her face. `No.'

 `It was inevitable that we would have to return there.' Histone was level.Unemotional. `It is my home. And my homeis now your home.'

 `We can't go there, not yet.' Her own tone was frantic andclogged with emotion. `That was where everything wentwrong last time.'

 `Things will not go wrong this time,' he assured her im­mediately, reaching out and pulling her back into his arms.`You are my wife and no one can change that.'

 It was true, she assured herself as she relaxed against himand tried to make the most of their last moments together in the cave. Shewashis wife. But even that knowledge couldn'tdispel the sick feeling of unease that rose inside her.

  

 Farrah sat silent in the back of the chauffeur-driven car, her feeling of foreboding growing stronger with every mile they drew closer to the capital city and the Palace.

 As if to match her dark mood, thunder and lightningflashed through the sky and she stared into the deepeninggloom wondering if the worsening weather was an omen.A portent of things to come?

 Tellingherself that she was being ridiculous she tried toforget, but instead she found herself remembering everyminute detail of her last visit to Fallouk, the ancient capitalcity ofTazkash...

  

 After a month living in the desert camp at Nazaar, Tariq's father's ill health dictated that they all return to the capitalcity. Tariq insisted that she return with him.

 Madly in love, convinced that it was only a matter of timebefore he proposed, Farrah readily agreed but found herselfmore than a little daunted by the opulence and formality ofpalace life.

 The truth was, to the constant chagrin of her sociable mother, she wasn't comfortable at glitzy parties and func­tions.

 `I don't know what to do or what to say,' she'd confessedto Tariq a few days later but he'd brushed her fears aside,suddenly remote and distracted and nothing like the manwhose company she'd enjoyed so much during their time in the desert.

 `Any of my family will help you,' he'd assured her with afaint frown. `If you have questions, you only have to ask.'

 She wondered if she ought to point out that, after the initialintroductions to endless cousins, uncles and aunts, none ofhis family had come near her. She'd spent the last few dayson her own in her room, reading.

 `I hardly see you—'

 `My father is unwell. I have urgent matters of state toattend to—'

 She smiled, feeling horribly guilty for being the one to putextra pressure on him. `Of course, I'm sorry—don't worry,I'll be fine.'

 `There is a formal dinner tonight—'Distracted and unusu­ally tense, his eyes flickered to one of his advisers whohovered anxiously at a discreet distance, obviously eager toescort him to yet another meeting. `I will arrange for someoneto help you prepare.'

 And from then on it had been downhill all the way.

 Racked by insecurities and longing for just five minutesalone with him so she could ask him some questions abouthow she should be dressing and behaving, Farrah spent agesselecting something suitable to wear for her first formal dinner.

 Finally satisfied with her choice, she was just adding somediscreet jewellery when a young woman strolled into her room.

 `I'm Asma, Tariq's cousin. He asked me to come and helpyou dress.' Her faintly superior air and slightly mocking smile suggested that it was the last job in the world she would havechosen. 'Oh-'Sheran her eyes over Farrah's slim frame andpulled a face.

 Already lacking in confidence, Farrah bit her lip. `Some­thing's wrong with the way I'm dressed?'

 His cousin opened her mouth and then closed it again witha faint smile.`Not at all. You look delightful.'

 Farrah glanced down at herself. She'd chosen the dress socarefully. `I thought it was discreet.' Determined to get itright, she'd chosen to wear long sleeves and a high neck. `Iwant to make the right impression.' She didn't dare admit thatshe didn't even enjoy formal functions that much.

 `Of course you do. But Tariq is a man used to being withextremelybeautiful women. You're never going to hold himif you dress like a nun,' Asma murmured, her huge dark eyes roving over Farrah with something approaching pity. `Mycousin appreciates beautiful women.'

 Farrah bit her lip. The cruel reminder of Tariq's reputationwith her sex made her stomach sink and all her youthful in­securities rush to the surface.

 Why would he possibly be interested in her? He mixed with sophisticated mature women who knew exactly what games to play to keep him ensnared and interested. Whereas she­—

 She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and let outa sigh of frustration.

 She was just a girl and it showed. She laughed at the wrongtimes, talked at the wrong times and dressed in the wrong clothes. Her own mother had despaired of her. What could aman like Tariq possibly see in her?

 In the desert she'd felt that they'd connected, but here—­here amongst the splendour and the formality she felt totallyout of her depth.

 But then she remembered the kiss they'd shared at thecaves of Zatua. He loved her, she knew he did. And she wouldlearn everything there was to know about palace life, she toldherself with a determined lift of her chin. She couldlearntobe the sort of wife he needed and wanted.

 `All right—'Turning away from the mirror, she started tounzip her dress. `Tell me what I should be wearing, Asma. Ineed your help.' Instinctively trusting, she turned to the othergirl for advice.

 `Something short and low-cut,' Asma said immediately,reaching for something from the rail. `This looks good.'

 It looked like something her mother would have chosen.Farrah looked at it doubtfully. `I wouldn't normally wearanything that revealing.'

 `But do you normally date guys like Tariq?' Asma's smiledid little to conceal her disbelief at her cousin's current choice. `He dates the most sophisticated women in theworld—princesses, actresses, models—'

 `All right, thanks, I'll try it.' Farrah interrupted her hastily,

 notwanting to hear any more about the type of woman Tariqusually chose. Her confidence was at an all-time low and shedidn't need the fact that she was an unusual choice for himbattered home by a member of his family.

 He was single, wasn't he? So obviously he'd never beenin love before now. And that, she told herself firmly as shewriggled into a dress that made her blush, was the difference between her and the competition.

 She stared at herself doubtfully in the mirror and tuggedthe neckline upwards. `You're sure this is suitable?’

 'Absolutely,' Asma replied smoothly. `I think we can safelysay that if you wear this tonight Tariq won't be able to takehis eyes off you.'

 Her prediction proved to be correct, but not for the reasonsthat Farrah had assumed. Far from being dazzled by herbeauty and glamour, Tariq had looked at her with a frowningdisapproval that he hadn't attempted to conceal.

 `That dress isnotsuitable. You should have asked myfamily for advice on how to dress,' he said coldly and she gritted her teeth, ignoring the sting of tears behind her eyes, trying not to feel hurt at his complete lack of understanding.

 And, as for Asma—she realized, too late, that the girlclearly had her own agenda, but she was nowhere to be seenand Farrah was forced to endure a hideous evening, aware thatshe'd committed an enormous socialfaux pas and had em­barrassed Tariq as well as herself.

 Why Asma had chosen to put her in this position was amystery to her.

 Furious with herself for being so naive and trusting andfeeling miserably self-conscious amongst the formallydressed women, Farrah picked at her food and kept her mouthshut, afraid to risk expressing an opinion. She'd already puther foot in it. She didn't want to risk making another mistake. She didn't want to draw attention to herself. And she was justmortified at having been so gullible and not having followed her own instincts when it came to matters of dress.

 As a result of her own desperate embarrassment, she metall Tariq's attempts to converse with monosyllabic answersand tried not to mind when he finally gave up and started totalk to the beautiful redhead seated to his right.

 As far as she was concerned, the evening couldn't end soon enough and she escaped back to her room at the earliest opportunity.

 He sought her out the following morning. `You shouldhave asked for advice on what to wear. I will arrange for oneof my aunts to talk to you.'

 `If she's related to Asma then please don't bother,' Farrahmuttered, trying not to sound sulky. `I think I've just abouthad all the help I can stand from your family.'

 His gaze was chilly. `What is that supposed to mean?’

 'Well, they're not exactly welcoming, are they? It is per­fectly obvious that they don't want me here. They resent me.'Asma had blatantly set out to embarrass and humiliate her infront of Tariq.

 `That's nonsense.' His brows came together in a frown.`Why would they resent you?’

 'I have no idea,' she said flatly. `Unlike you, I don't havea PhD in palace politics.' She looked at his rigid profile andsuddenly the fight drained out of her. `Don't let's argue. I loveyou, Tariq.'

 His gaze softened slightly. `Things have not been easysince we arrived here, I understand that. There is somethingI have to ask you and perhaps this is a good time.'

 Her heart suddenly skipped and danced. The humiliationof the previous evening was forgotten as excitement took its place. This was the moment she'd been waiting for. This wasthe moment that Tariq was going to ask her to marry him.

 Poised to say yes, she held her breath and waited expect­antly.

 He took her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth in astrangely old fashioned gesture. `I suppose things are moredifficult because people are unsure of why you are here. Yourrole hasn't yet been defined.'

 She couldn't hold back the smile.It was now.He wasgoing to ask her now. `I'm sure you're right-' She'd neverknown such happiness. She wanted the delicious sense of an­ticipation to last for ever.

 `So you will move into my apartment today. I'll announceit straight away. It was foolish of me to delay.' He slid an armround her waist and dropped a lingering kiss on her mouth.'After all, you are perfect mistress material.'

 Her happiness died a dramatic and rapid death.`Perfectmistress material?’

 'Of course.'He smiled, supremely confident. `To wait anylonger would be madness given the powerful chemistrybetween us.'

 `Perfect mistress material?'It was such a shock that shehad trouble getting her tongue round the words and she staredat him blankly. `That's what you're planning to announce?'

 'You are extremely beautiful and I find you amusing com­pany,' he assured her. `You can move in with me. You won't even have to appear in public much. You can just keep to mysuite of rooms.'

 In other words, he was ashamed of her and didn't want todisplay her in public, she thought miserably.

 And, just like that, her dreams fell to the ground and brokeinto pieces.

 A tight band squeezed her heart. 'Let me get this straight.'Her voice shook slightly. `You've decided that I'm goodenough to have sex with you?'

 He frowned. `I'm offering you a great deal more thanthat.'

 Her temper started to simmer.`What, exactly?’

 'A place by my side.Access to certain aspects of palace life.'

 Certain aspects.`Until you decide that you've had enough of me.' She hid her pain behind anger. `I'm worth more than that, Tariq.'

 He released her and stepped back, his bronzed hands spread in a gesture of masculine exasperation. `I am ho­nouring you—'

 `No, you're insulting me,' she said flatly, turning away sothat she didn't have to look at him.Wasn't tempted to justthrowherself in his arms and accept him on any terms.'You're every bit as bad as the sultan in the legend. He wasashamed of Nadia, just as you're ashamed of me.'

 `You are as dreamy and impractical as Nadia. But now wereach the truth.' His voice was silky smooth and she tensedas he strolled up behind her. `You were expecting marriage.'

 The fact that he was aware of her hopes simply added toher humiliation and she turned angrily, blinking back tears.

 `I realize now that Nadia was an utter fool! Instead ofkilling herself, she should have killed the Sultan for beingsuch a short-sighted, selfishbastard,'Theword came out ona sob and he inhaled sharply.

 `Our legend has twisted your thinking, but—'

 `My thinking is perfectly straight, thank you,' she yelled,ignoring the fact that her voice could probably be heardhalfway round the palace. She didn't care! She just couldn'tbelieve what he was saying. She loved him. `It's you that'stwisted! You're not capable of loving anyone except yourself.’

 All you think about is yourself.'

 Proud and unyielding, he threw back his head, his darkeyes ablaze. `You are angry because you wanted the positionof my wife,' he said coldly, 'but—'

 `You make it sound like a job application!' She flung the words at him like stones. `You just don't get it, do you? Whydo you think I wanted to marry you, Tariq?'

 His shoulders were tense and he was very much a man onthe defensive.`For the same reason that the peasant girlwanted to marry the Sultan.For power and position.'

 She turned away, not wanting to reveal the depth of herfeelings. Not only did he not love her, but he didn't believein her love for him.

 The past few weeks had obviously meant nothing to him.He thought she was interested in glitz and glamour. Hethought she wanted access to his lifestyle.

 How could he have misunderstood her so greatly?

 And how could she have been such a gullible fool?

 But the answer to that was obvious. She'd been a gulliblefool because she'd fallen in love with him, she told herselfmiserably. And love was always generous and optimistic. She'd trusted him. She'd believed in him.

 And he'd proved he was a total rat.

 She needed to get away fast, before she gave in to hermisery and did something totally uncool like begging him...

  

 Dragged back to the present, Farrah gave a tiny laugh. She'dbeen an innocent, trusting fool, she reflected.So trusting that she hadn't seen the malice in Asma.Hadn't expected even fora moment that she had been doing her best to sabotage a re­lationship.

 But she would never have been able to have sabotaged itwithout Tariq's help, she reminded herself. He'd been sowilling to see the worst in her.

 Suddenly everything about her had been unsuitable.

 Every step she'd taken in the Palace, her foot had slidright in it up to the thigh. And in the end she'd stopped taking advice from his family because it had been so clear to her thatthey'd wanted her out of his life.

 It would be different this time, Farrah assured herself asthe convoy of vehicles gradually approached the ancientwalled city ofFallouk.

 This time she was arriving as his wife.

 They'd spent time together. They enjoyed each other's company.

 In his own way, he loved her.She knew he loved her.

 It was just important to make sure that nothing wentwrong. In a sudden panic, she put a hand on his arm. `Youneed to tell me how to dress for everything. What's expectedof me—'

 `Calm yourself,laeela,'he said with an amused smile. `Iwill take care of everything. There won't be a problem.'

 As long as his family didn't interfere, she thoughtgloomily, wishing that she had his confidence.

 `Aren't you worried that your family won't accept me?'she asked, just hating herself for appearing so insecure but, at the same time, needing something in the way of reassur­ance.

 He hesitated and then turned his head away from her. `Myfamily will welcome this marriage.'

 There was something in his tone that made her feel slightlyuneasy but she decided that she must have imagined it. Shewas just apprehensive, which was entirely natural after whathad happened on the last occasion she'd had a taste of palacelife.

 Her apprehension increased as she was escorted to anenormous suite of rooms that led on to a balcony. Stonearches overlooked a courtyard garden below. Feelingconfined after the freedom of the desert, Farrah immediatelystepped on to the balcony. A gushing fountain formed an im­pressive centrepiece to the pretty courtyard and exotic plantstumbled in an array of rich colours down the walls of thepalace.

 She turned to Tariq, who had followed her outside. `What am I expected to do with my day?’

 'You are my wife. Do as you please. During the day, whenI am involved in matters of state, you can enjoy the Palace.’He cupped her face with his lean, strong hands and loweredhis head to kiss her. `You are my Queen. Go anywhere youplease.Command as you please.' He surveyed her with benign amusement.

 `And at night?'Her heart thumped as she stared up at him.`What happens at night, Tariq?'

 Watching the hot flare of desire in his dark eyes, she felther limbs weaken alarmingly.

 'At night you are mine and mine alone. I share you withno one,' he delivered in his usual arrogant style and she felt her heart miss a beat.

 It was going to be all right, she told herself firmlyashereleased her with obvious reluctance and strode out of theroom.

 She was his wife and nothing his family did or said could change that.

 What could possibly go wrong?

  

 CHAPTER EIGHT

  

 IN HERanxiety not to be late, Farrah dressed for dinner fartoo early and had time on her hands.

 Deciding to spend the spare half an hour exploring the Palace,she wandered down corridors, her heels tapping on the marble floor as she admired paintings, furniture and the ornate ceilings.

 She was on the point of returning to Tariq's private apart­ment when she heard hysterical sobs coming from a roomclose by.

 Instinctively wanting to comfort anyone in so muchobvious distress, she gave a sharp frown of concern andhurried towards the sound, pausing by the open doorway asshe heard voices. Clearly someone else had had the same ideaas herself.

 `I hate her,' sobbed an anguished female voice. `I hate herso much. I hate her perfect blond hair and her long legs. I hateher smile. But most of all I hate the fact he actuallymarriedher.'

 `Calm down, Asma,' urged another voice. `He may havemarried her but you know he doesn't love her.'

 Farrah froze. It was Asma and her mother, Tariq's aunt.And they were talking abouther.She wanted to leave, to runback down the corridor as quickly as she could, but her feetwere glued to the spot. What, she wondered, had she ever doneto Asma to deserve being on the receiving end of so muchvitriol?

 `He's married her,' Asma hiccoughed, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. `Despite everything we did five years ago to make sure that she wasn't suitable, he'smarriedher!'

 `Be silent!' Her mother's voice was sharp. `The marriageis nothing more than a business deal.'

 Asma was sobbing quietly. `That's rubbish. Of course itisn't a business deal. I saw her face when she arrived in hiscar! She's crazy about him and she always was.'

 `Possibly.But she doesn't know that after forty days andforty nights,' the older woman said crisply, `he will divorceher.'

 There was a long silence, punctuated by a few sniffs asAsma tried to assimilate this latest piece of information.`Why would he do that?'

 Yes,why?Farrah wondered numbly from her positionoutside the doorway.Whywould he?

 Asma's mother helpfully supplied the answer.`Because hedoesn't love her.Tariq married her only for her shares in herfather's company.'

 `He's married her for her shares?’

 'And they became his on marriage. In forty days he canand will divorce her,'came the firm reply.`Leaving him freeto marry whom he chooses.'

 `Which would be me—' Asma's voice shook. `It would beme, wouldn't it, Mother?'

 Unable to hear the answer to that question because of theloud buzzing in her ears, Farrah wondered in a vague,detached way whether she might be about to pass out. Therewere disturbing clouds around the edge of her vision andsuddenly she felt removed from reality. Tariq's aunt must have made some mistake, she thought numbly.

 Tariq hadn't married her to gain possession of her shares.

 He'd married her because he loved her. She knew he loved her.

 But had he actually ever used those words?

 Shocked and dazed, she backed away from the open doorlike someone in a dream and almost fell over a statue behindher.

 Why would Tariq need her shares?

 She needed to speak to Tariq. She needed to phone her

 father.She needed to be sick.

 `YourHighness—'

 Dizzy with horror, she turned and recognized the smooth,expressionless features ofHasimAkbar. She rememberedhim from the desert camp at Nazaar. Wasn't he one of Tariq'smost senior advisers? `I need to see Tariq,' she whispered, sobadly in shock that she could barely form the words, `and Ineed to see him right now.'

 `His Excellency is currently involved in extremely delicatenegotiations with the Kazbanian foreign minister and can'tbe disturbed, but I could—'

 `I said,right now.'Something in her tone must have hintedat the gravity of the situation because Hasim gave her ananxious look, drew breath and bowed.

 `If you would follow me,Your Highness.'

 The walk down the marbled corridor was sufficiently longfor her to examine the facts. Sufficiently long to ensure thatby the time they finally reached the large double doors that ledto the private audience chambers, she'd reached boiling point. The guards on either side of the door stood to attention andshe eyed the swords that they wore as part of their ceremonialuniform, contemplating violence for the first time in her life.Shock had given way to anger. She felt outraged and affrontedand so blisteringly angry that she wanted to kill someone.

 Something of her undilutedfurymust have shown in herface because Hasim shot her an uneasy look.

 `I will announce you, Your Highness,' he began, but sheswept past him and the guards without bothering to answer him

 She didn't need a sword, she thought grimly. The wayshewas feeling at the moment, she was more than capable ofkilling Tariq with her bare hands.

 Utterly shattered by the realization that their marriage wasa sham, she stalked through an outer chamber, ignoring thestartled looks of those who were waiting to be given anaudience with the Sultan, ignoring the confusion on the facesof the guards who were standing by the final doorway. Inother circumstances she might have felt sorry for them.Clearly they had no idea whether they were supposed to stopher or not.

 But at that moment the only person she felt sorry for was Tariq. He had no idea what was coming to him, she thoughtgrimly as she pushed open the door and walked into theroom, head held high. If he'd known then he would have runfor the hills.

 His dark glossy head was bowed over a set of papers buthe looked up with a frown of irritation at her surprise entrance.Astonishment was replaced by caution. `Something is wrong?'

 `You're quick,' she said sweetly, `very quick. I need tospeak to you and I need to speak to you now.'

 He threw down the pen he was holding and sat back in hischair, his expression falling a long way short of encouraging.'Farrah, I am in the middle of negotiating a—'

 `What I have to say could be said in public,' she said, working hard to keep her tone well modulated, `and itprobably should be. But in the interests of diplomacy I willallow you precisely sixty seconds to get rid of your guest andsave yourself public humiliation.'

 With a sharply indrawn breath, Tariq rose to his feet, hiseyes never leaving hers. 'Faisel, if you will excuse me for ashort time,' he said, `we will resume this meeting very shortly.

 My staff would be honoured to offer you refreshment if you careto go next door.'

 Clearly riveted by the scene playing out in front of him, the Kazbanian foreign minister rose to his feet, abandoned the pile of papers in front of him and slid silently out of theroom.

 `For your information, I hate scenes. And in particular Ihate public scenes.' Tariq sat back in his chair, dark eyes glit­tering with anger, his long fingers drumming a steady rhythmon the polished table. `I don't appreciate being disturbed inthe middle of a meeting.’

 `And I don't appreciate discovering that you married mefor my father's shares. Allow me to say that I find yourromantic streak less than overwhelming, Tariq.'

 The atmosphere in the room changed in an instant.

 `You're not making sense.' He uttered the words in a boredtone but his fingers stilled, his eyes narrowed and she couldsee his sharp brain shifting through the gears. It was the finalconfirmation that she needed.

 Rat.

 `Oh, I'm making perfect sense. And if you hate scenes thenyou married the wrong woman because I'm not prepared tostand by with my head bowed while you walk all over me.'Torn in two by the agony of his betrayal and the effort ofholding on to her steadily collapsing emotions, she walked across the room and stared out of the window. Then sheturned, her voice little more than a whisper.`You bastard.’

 Something flickered across his face. He had the look of aman who knew he was under attack but so far hadn't managedto identify the enemy. 'Farrah—'

 `I thought you cared. This time Ireallythought you lovedme. And what sort of a fool does that make me?'

 He rose to his feet in a fluid movement, his hands on thetable. `We need to—'

 `All those things we did together—' she lifted a handtoher forehead and rubbed `--all those things you said to me. ­And you didn't meananyof them.'

 `You're being hysterical—'

 `Too right I'm hysterical! Forty days and forty nights—'Hervoice cracked as she gave voice to the words. `Youmarried me knowing that you were going to divorce me afterforty days and forty nights. What sort of man does a thinglike that?What sort of scumbag gets married with the inten­tionofdivorcing his wife after six weeks?'

 He inhaled sharply but she didn't give him a chance tospeak.

 `Are you sure you can stand me for that long, Tariq? I can'tbelievewhat a fool I've been. It all makes sense to me now.I thought that getting married in a cave was a romantic gestureon your part but the truth is that you were afraid of marryingme in public in case someone gave the game away. Was thatwhat all the candles were for? To make sure I couldn't seewhat I was doing? I thought that the time we spent at Nazaarwas special, but you were simply doing what was necessaryto get your own way, as usual. You are a ruthless, conscience­less rat and I can't believe that I actually slept with you!'

 Muttering something in his own language, he moved soswiftly that she didn't see it coming until his fingers grippedthe tops of her arms, until she had her back against the wall.`That's enough! You have had your say, now it is your turn tolisten.'

 `I don't want to listen.'

 `Youwilllisten to me—'

 `Why? So that you can tell me more lies?' His powerfulbody pressed hard against hers and she felt the familiar curlof excitement low in her stomach. The instinctive responsesickened her. Even now, knowing what she knew, her bodyfailed to recognize the man that he was. `Face it, Tariq, there's noway you can dig yourself out of this hole. You're in so deep--iat even a rope and a ladder wouldn't save you now.' She triedto push him away but he planted an arm either side of h er head, blocking her escape.

 'I insist that you calm down and listen to me. Already Inave allowed you more leeway than any other woman.'

 `And that's supposed to flatter me? No other woman hadthe shares you needed, did they, Tariq? It's amazing what youcan get away with when the stakes are high enough.' Shecould feel the tension pulsing through him and wondered witha flicker of alarm whether she'd gone too far.

 `Listen to me,' he growled, `or so help me I will make youand you may not like my methods.'

 Eyes clashed,breath mingled and the atmospheresnapped tight around them. She had a feeling that hismethods would include his mouth on hers and she wantedto avoid that at all costs.

 Even after what had happened, she knew herself wellenough to understand that if he kissed her she was lost.

 `Speak, then. Make your excuses. Tell me it's all a lie.'

 `It isn't a lie.'

 The flat, simple statement sent a sharp pain through thecentre of her chest, killing off the final flicker of hope that ithad all been a terrible misunderstanding on her part.

 `Then I truly, truly hate you and there's no excuse for what you've done,' she whispered. Her knees sagged and she wouldhave slid into a heap on the floor if he hadn't caught her.

 `I do not intend to make excuses. The pipeline project is es­sential for the future of Tazkash and it is my responsibility to protect that future. Since our talks with your father collapsedfive years ago we have explored a number of other options butnone of them are viable. If I have ownership of the companyI can make it work.Ihaveto make it work for the sake of my people. I bought up all the available shares, but—'

 `Hold on a minute—’Her voice was little more than awhisper as she lifted a hand to stop him in mid flow. `So, aswell as using me, you're preparing to smash my father's lifetoo? Preparing to take over a business he's spent his lifebuilding'? Have you no conscience?'

 He tensed. 'You are making it look bad, but—'

 '1 fail to see how even someone as ruthless andmachia­vellianas you could put gloss on this situation,' she said,trying to stop her teeth chattering. `You were prepared tolower yourself to marry me for a few barrels of oil. No matterhow many times you rephrase that, it isn't going to look good.'

 'You too have gained from this marriage,' he said in a rawtone. 'You have always had money so I understood I couldn'tgive you that, but now you have royal connections. There isno party list that will not contain your name. Your position as my wife will gain you access to any event that takes yourfancy.'

 'Don't you mean my position as your ex-wife? You don'thavea clueabout women, Tariq. And you have even less of a clue aboutme!'Thank goodness she'd never told him thetruth about herself! Her shell was her protection. His firmhold on her was the only thing preventing her ignominiousdescent on to the smooth marble floor and perhaps he realizedthat because she felt his grip tighten.

 `You are overwrought and your pride has been damaged,but—'

 `Pride?I've just discovered that I'm married to a lump ofslime,and you talk about pride?' She flung the words at him,mortified as she felt her voice crack with emotion. The factthat, even having spent time together, he knew so little abouther depressed her utterly. `You seem to think I want to spendmy entire life at parties—'

 `There is nothing wrong with that,' he assured her quickly in a smooth tone. `Women are interested in different things than men; it's a fact of life and one that I have long since accepted. You like dressing up, you are addicted to shoes, you find fascination with make-up—' His helpful summary ofahat he clearly saw to be the main characteristics of her sexleft her virtually speechless.

 Surely by now he must have at least a vague inkling that she was more than a frivolous socialite?

 `So why,' she annunciated when she'd finally recovered suf­ficiently for speech, `if this is the sort of person that I am, haveI just spent two happy weeks in the desert wearing hikingboots?’

 'Because stilettos aren't good on sand?'There was aglimmer of humour in his dark eyes but she was too angryand upset to respond with anything other than a fierce glare.

 `You think I lead this empty, useless life and you've nevertaken the trouble to get to know the real me.'

 His expression was instantly guarded. He was a man onthe spot and he knew it. `I don't think you are useless and I'vebeen very touched by how well you adapted to living in thedesert,' he returned, his dark eyes scanning her face for areaction to his words of praise.

 `Let me ask you a question,' she said, her tone dangerouslyquiet. `If I had to spend the rest of my life in the palace or inthe desert, which would I choose?'

 He didn't hesitate.`Of course, the palace. Any womanwould.'

 `Wrong answer, Tariq.'

 His brows met in an impatient frown. `But you loveparties—you spend your life at parties. It's what you do withyour life—'

 `You deal in stereotypes, Tariq. You've put all women intothe same box and you can't even see—' She closed her eyesand shook her head.

 What was the point in trying to correct him?The truth wasshe was so shattered by what she was hearing thatshecouldn't think of a single thing to say. She just wanted to curlup in a tiny ball and protect herself from any more hurt.

 He didn't know her and he never would.She wasn't goingto give him that privilege.

 'You agreed to marry me soclearlyyou believed that thismarriage would be advantageous to you also,' he said stifflyand she winced.

 Advantageous?

 They were just so different. How could she possibly havethought that this relationship would ever work?

 `What's clear to me is that the inner workings of my mindare a total mystery to you. And actually they're a mystery tome too, because why I would choose to make a fool of myselfover the same man twice in one lifetime I really don't under­stand,' she muttered and he looked at her with ill-concealedexasperation.

 `Thentellme how you feel—'

 `Sick'?'

 Sick that she'd been so stupid and trusting. That she'd letherself love him again. But clearly the words had meantnothing to him. And she wasn't about to remind him howopen she'd been in her affections. For him marriages were all about mutual benefit.Another type of business deal.

 `We are good together. Last night in the cave—' his voicebecame husky and he stroked her hair away from her facewith a gentle hand `--it was incredible,laeela.And I decidedthen that forty days and forty nights with you would not beenough. You can relax because Iwill notbe divorcing you.'

 His complete lack of sensitivity triggered the burst ofemotion that she'd been struggling to hold back and he staredat her with disbelief and no small degree of frustration as thetears spilled down her cheeks.

 `You are making no sense whatsoever!' He jabbed his fingers into his hair. `You are upset because you believed thatI planned to divorce you and yet when I tell you that this isnot the case, you start crying. Why?’

 'Because I've never been more miserable in my life,' shesaid flatly, scrubbing her palm across her face and sniffinghard. `You marry me to gain possession of the shares in myfather's company but then you decide not to divorce me asoriginally planned because the sex was actually better thanyou expected. Forgive me fornotbeing flattered, Tariq.'

 Two spots of colour appeared on his perfect bone struc­ture. `You misinterpret everything I say—'

 `I don't think so.' Needing to escape before she lost the lastof her dignity, she wriggled out of his arms and walked overto the door. Only when the handle was safely under herfingers did she risk turning to look at him.

 His handsome face might have been carved from stone, hispowerful body tense and unmoving as he watched her. Helooked like a man who had his back up against an electricfence. It was clear that he was trying to anticipate her nextmove and if the situation hadn't been so tragic she would havelaughed. It was the first time ever that she could rememberseeing Tariq unsure ofhimself . He didn't know what her nextmove was going to be.

 And neither did she, she realized miserably. Even whileher dignity and common sense told her to leave the room­—leave him—a tiny, stupid part of her wanted to hurl herself

 into his arms and lie there safe and warm while he used hisdiplomatic skills to talk his way out of this vile situation andmade it possible for her to forgive him.

 `I want to go home, Tariq,' she said, hanging on to the lastof her dignity.

 `You are my wife and you are not going anywhere.'

 One glance at the rigid set of his hard, handsome featurestold her that argument was useless. For some reason hewanted her here. And you didn't have to be a genius to know what that reason was.

 The sparks in his eyes, the sexual awareness that evennow pulsed between them, all gaveher the answer to thatquestion.

 She sucked in a breath, suddenly knowing what had to bedone.What would hurt himmost.`You want me to stay? Fine,I'll stay. You thought you were going to have to endure fortydays and forty nights with me, Tariq,' she breathed, `and that'swhat you're going to do. You've proved that the only thingsthat interest you in life are power, money and sex. Finally Iunderstand the person you really are. You're right when yousay the chemistry between us is powerful. You're right whenyou say that our wedding night was amazing. It was. But that was it. That was all you're ever going to get from me.From now on you can look, but you're not going to touch.Prepare yourself for forty days and forty nights of hell, YourExcellency.'

  

 CHAPTER NINE

  

 'WHATdo you mean, you can't find her?' Tariq paused in theact of prowling the length of his apartment, his dark eyesfierce, evidence of his usual self-control distinctly lacking.When she'd promised him hell, he hadn't anticipated that herfirst move would be to disappear.

 Cold, hard logic told him that her unfortunate discoveryof the truth had no bearing on the outcome of the deal. Theywere married. The shares were already his.

 Missionaccomplished.

 So why did he suddenly feel as though his entire life wasunravelling?

 He was in the grip of emotions hitherto unknown to him.He was a man who had never in his life felt the need toexplain his actions to anyone and yet suddenly he was filledwith a burning need to explain every tiny detail. But the onlyperson he wanted to explain himself to couldn't be found andthe knowledge that she'd beenextremely distressed immedi­ately before she'd disappeared only served to increase his state of unease. Frustration and concern mingled with asevere attack of conscience.

 HasimAkbarclasped his hands together. `She appears tohave vanished, Your Excellency.'

 Blasted out of his usual cool by that less than helpful statement, Tariq rounded on him. `It is impossible for anyone tomake a move in this palace without at least ten people wit­nessing the event. She must be somewhere.Find her.'

 On the receiving end of that icy tone, Hasim tensed. `Noone has seen her since she left the audience chambers.'

 The less than subtle reminder that he was the cause of thecurrent situation left Tariq on the point of explosion.

 `Find her,' he repeated in a soft, lethal voice that had Hasimbacking towards the door. `I want every corner of the palacesearched,I want guards out on the streets. If necessary get helicopters up in the air. No one rests until her whereaboutsare discovered.'

 She'd beenveryupset when she'd left him. She couldhave wandered out of the Palace and into the seedier parts ofFallouk.She could be in extreme danger.

 As the list of potential disasters lengthened in his mind,Tariq started to pace again, pausing only briefly to questionpreciselywhyhis anxiety levels were running so high.

 It was obvious, he told himself. Despite what she thoughtabout him, he wasn't such a louse that he enjoyed seeing adistressed woman leave his Palace with absolutely no knowl­edge of the surrounding area.

 Someone needed to find her.

 Faced with the prospect of idleness or, worse still, intro­spection, he decided to join in the search himself.

  

 Farrah sat curled up in the corner of one of the stables, indif­ferent to the future appearance of the long silk dress she waswearing. Her high heeled shoes had been discarded and layhalf buried in the straw and she'd removed the pins from herblond hair, allowing it to fall loose down her back.

 It was dark, it was late and she'd cried so hard that she didn't dare imagine what her face looked like. Given that she was onlysharing the stable with a horse, she didn't see that it mattered.

 The reminder that she was no longer dressing for a prince brought fresh tears to the surface and she brushed them awaywith an impatient hand. Enough crying, she told herselffirmly.Enough.

 Eventually she'd get over him. It wasn't possible to hurtlike this for ever. And in the meantime she was going to givehim forty days and forty nights of total celibacy. For a manas red-blooded and virile as Tariq, knowing how much hewanted her in his bed again, being deprived of sex would bea just punishment.

 But, before she could face returning to the Palace, sheneeded to allow herself the self-indulgence of a good cry.

 She deserved that, at least.

 `I suppose you think I'm mad,' she muttered to the prettyArab marewho was munching through a pile of hay.`Makinga fool of myself again, over the same man.I'm obviously not great at learning lessons. And it's not just me—' tears welledagain `--I've lost my dad his company because I was tooblind and stupid to check exactly what marriage to Tariqwould mean.' Would her dad be able to sort things out? If shehadn't been so miserable, she would have laughed because the one person in the world who was probably a match forTariq was her father.

 The horse turned her head and blew gently through hernostrils.

 `I just feel like a total idiot,' Farrah confessed softly,curling her long legs underneath her. `I thought Tariq lovedme. I know he's arrogant and controlling but he really can't

 helpthat and I felt sorry for him because he's obviously hada pretty grim childhood. I thought I could teach him to bemore demonstrative.'

 The mare stamped her foot and dragged some more hayinto her mouth.

 `It turned out that the reason he wasn't demonstrative wasbecause he didn't love me and, frankly, I don't believe he'scapableofloving anyone,' Farrah said flatly, leaning her headback against the wall and closing her eyes. All the anger haddrained outofher, leaving her limp and exhausted and unableto make a decision about anything. `I just can't believe thatI was such a gullible, stupid fool that I let the same man hurtme twice.'

 The horse gave a whickerofsympathy and nuzzledFarrah's hand.

 She opened her eyes and stroked the mare's velvety nose.`I don't honestly know what I'm supposed to do now,' she mumbled. `I don't have a single friend in this place. No oneI can talk to. His family all loathe me. My dad's working onsome project in the back of beyond so I can't get holdofhimeither and warn him what's happening. My life's a total mess.'

 `Your life isnotamess, my family certainly doesn't loatheyou and you can talk to me. In fact, I wish you would.' Thedeep, masculine tones were drawn tight with stress and she shrank back against the wall as Tariq walked into the stableand bolted the door behind him in a decisive movement thatensured that she wouldn't be escaping in a hurry.

 Farrah flinched as she heard the finalityof the clunk. Shewould sooner be trapped with scorpions and snakes. `Whatare you doing here? I don't want to talk to you because you'rea trulyhorribleperson. Go away.'

 Picking up the tension, the mare threw up her head andstamped her foot and Tariq reached out and stroked a soothinghand down her neck, his touch skilled and gentle.

 Manipulative rat, Farrah thought dully as she watched him calm the horse with a few soft words and the gentle caress ofhis long fingers. Wasn't that exactly what he'd done to her? He'd soothed and charmed until he'd had her exactly wherehe wanted her.

 `Have you any idea what an uproar you've caused?' Tariq demanded in a tense, driven tone. `We have been searching for you for hours. The entire palace guard is out looking for you.'

 It occurred to her that she'd never seen him look anythingless than suave and well groomed. But tonight he looked anything but. He was dressed in the same suit he'd worn forhis meeting with the Kazbanian foreign minister, but the jacket and tie had long since been discarded and what hadstarted life as a crisp white shirt was now crumpled anddirtied. She wondered what he'd been doing. `Whyare thepalace guardlooking for me?’

 'Because you vanished from the face of the earth.Weneeded to know where you were. I thought you might havehad an accident. I was worried about you.' He frownedslightly, as if that confession was as much of a surprise to himas it was to her.

 `Worried about your investment, you mean. But it wouldn't have mattered if I had had an accident, would it, Tariq? You'vegot what you want. You married me and the shares are yours.’

 He sucked in a breath. `Whatever you may think, this isnotabout the shares.'

 `Of course it is.'

 He dragged a hand through his glossy dark hair andglanced around him in disbelief. `I can't believe we're havingthis conversation in my stables in the middle of the night. Come with me now and we'll talk.'

 She didn't move. `I don't want to talk. And I'll come whenI'm ready and not before.'

 `You mean you don't want to talk tome.' A muscle workedin his jaw and there was awrygleam in his dark eyes. `You've been talking to my horse quite happily for the past hour.'

 She wondered just how much he'd overheard and thendecided that it didn't matter. She'd already made an utter foolof herself over him. It really couldn't get any worse. `I happento like your horse.'

 He gave her a curious look, momentarily distracted by hercomment. `I never knew you liked horses.'

 `What difference would it have made?' she snapped. `Youweren't remotely interested in me as a person, were you,Tariq? You just wanted to manoeuvre me into marrying youand once I did that the rest was all irrelevant.'

 `If that is the case, then why am I standing here now?’

 'Damage limitation?' She leaned her head back against thewall and studied him in the dim light of the stable. `You're aman who hates emotions. You've probably seen more todaythan in your entire lifetime. I'm sure you just want it all togo away. As you just pointed out, your normally orderedpalace is in an uproar and you wanted to find me before Icould disturb any more of your meetings.'

 `Certainly the foreign minister of Kazban has rarely beenso thoroughly entertained at my expense,' Tariq admittedwith a rare display of humour. `And what I really want is notfor you to disappear but to come back to our apartment so thatwe can talk properly. It's freezing in here, you're wearing nextto nothing and you cannot spend the night in my stables.'

 `Why not?They're nice stables. And your palace is full ofrats.' She gave him a pointed look and saw his eyes flash dark.

 `We can work this out.'

 `I don't think so.' She tilted her head to one side, herslightly sarcastic tone hiding layers of pain. `This time you'vereally excelled yourself. But it doesn't matter, does it?Because you were never thinking about me, only yourself.It'swhat you're really, really good at.' Her voice rose and themare threw up her head in alarm and stamped her foot.

 Tariq put a reassuring hand on the horse's neck and turnedback to Farrah.

 `Are you going to be reasonable?’

 'Probably not.I don't feel reasonable. If you really wantto know, I feel stupid and gullible,' she threw at him. 'Dis­covering that you've been thoroughly manipulated isn't reallythe best incentive to be reasonable.'

 But she was starting to shiver and felt his gaze fix on thetiny bumps that appeared on her skin.

 `That's enough discussion. Being angry with me is noreason to risk pneumonia. You can sulk and ignore me in ourapartments as easily as you can ignore me here,' he pointedout, stooping and sweeping her into his arms without furtherattempt at negotiation.

 `I never sulk. And I want you to put me down,' shemuttered, pushing at his chest, feeling the hard muscle underher fingers. `You're always dragging me off. You need tolearn the art of conversation instead of kidnap. And I don't want to be married to you anymore. I don't like you.'

 `You're married to me and that's the way it's staying,'Tariq said grimly, tightening his grip on her as he strode fromthe stable. `And I think this is one of those occasions when you should probably stop talking.'

 `Why.’

 `Because you might say something you'll regret later.'

 `Offhand, I can't think of a single thing that I'd regretsaying to you. The only thing I regret is the part where I said"Ido",'she muttered but he simply tightened his grip andstrode across a courtyard and through another door.

 She was dimly aware of people staring and bowing butTariq ignored them all, taking the stairs two at a time with her still in his arms.

 At any other time she might have admired his impressiveathletic ability, but now she simply glared at the hard ridgeof his darkened jaw, which was within her line of vision.

 `Don't you want to throw a bag over my head in caseanyone spots that we've been having a row?'

 A muscle worked in that same jaw. `I'm not interested inanyone else's opinion. I am, however, interested in gettingyou out of that non-existent dress before you catch yourdeath. The nights here are very cold and you're wearing verylittle.'

 `It's not like you to complain about that, Tariq,' she saidsarcastically just as he reached the door of his apartment.

 Guards snapped to attention but Tariq ignored them,striding through the door with her still in his arms and kickingit shut behind him. He carried on walking, through the threeluxurious and ornate living rooms, down a marble corridorand into the huge master bedroom, dominated by a massive bed.

 A bed that she hadn't even had the chance to share withhim yet.

 And never would, she told herself firmly,ignoring thesudden rush of awareness that engulfed her as he deposited her firmly in the middle of the large bed. There was no mis­interpreting the purposeful gleam in his eyes as he lifted ahand and unbuttoned his rumpled shirt.

 `Don't even think about it, Tariq,' she warned, scooting upthe bed out of reach of those dangerous, skilful hands.

 He dropped the shirt on to the floor, his eyes still locked on hers. `Why deny yourself what you know you want? The chemistry between us is all that matters here.'

 The sight of his bronzed muscular chest was almostenough to make her believe him.Almost, but not quite.

 `Yes, well, it would make it very convenient for you if Ibelieved that. You think that everything can be solved by sex,but it can't,' she muttered, ignoring the banging of her heartand the buzz in her ears.

 Rat, she reminded herself as she dragged her gaze awayfrom the fascinating sight of dark, masculine body hair thatfollowed a trail down his body and disappeared temptinglybeneath the waistband of his trousers.Neverland,she thoughtto herself. She never should have gone there.Majorrat.

 As he reached for the button on his trousers she felt herblood heat and knew that urgent action was necessary toprevent her from doing something that she was going to sin­cerely regret later. Sliding off the bed, she made a run for thebathroom without giving him a chance to stop her. Pushingthe lock home, she leaned against the door and slid slowlyon to the cold marble floor.

 Forty days and forty nights, she reminded herself.

 She was going to make him suffer for forty days andforty nights.

 And then she'd go home and spend the rest of her lifetrying to get over him.

  

 Apart from fulfilling her role in certain social engagements,she devoted her time to avoiding Tariq.

 She spent her nights dozing fitfully behind a locked door in the large dressing room that was part of the master suite.The door was locked for her sake as much as his. She didn'ttrust herself to be around him and not give into temptation.He was so unbelievably sexy that it would have been all tooeasy to just forget what he'd done and sink into his arms. Butshe wasn't going to do it. And every time she felt remotelytempted to unlock that door, she reminded herself what he'ddone to her and to her father.

 She'd tried over and over again to contact her father to warn him what was happening but so far it had proved impossible totrack him down and she was growing more and more anxious.

 What was he going to say when he discovered whatshe'd done?

 Trying to distract herself, during the day she exploredTariq's palace. She discovered secluded courtyards withhanging gardens and bubbling fountains, she found a library,stocked floor to ceiling with books, but her most important dis­covery was the one she'd made on that first night.His stables.

 Over the days that followed, she got to know each andevery one of his horses by name and personality. Decidingthat as her marriage was a sham then so was her role asQueen, she found herself a pair of jodhpurs and a loose, com­fortable T-shirt and spent her time riding and caring for hishorses. And if his staff thought her behaviour in any way odd,they concealed it.

 It was a week after they'd arrived in Fallouk that she hearda sound that was entirely familiar to her. The uncontrolledyells of a child in the middle of a major temper tantrum.Acting on instinct, she put down the body brush she'd beenusing to groom the Prince's favourite stallion, left the stableand went to investigate.

 Tariq's aunt was standing looking frustrated and out ofher depth while a boy of about seven years old lay on thepristine lawn in front of the stables and drummed his heelsinto the ground. His jaw was clenched, his arms and legsrigid as they flew up and down, threatening damage toanyone daring to approach.

 `If you cannot control yourself then I will leave you hereuntil you can!' Tariq's aunt turned away from theboy, sawFarrah and quickly controlled her expression. But not beforeFarrah had seen the sadness and the desperation in her eyes.She recognized the look because she'd seen it in the eyes ofother parents.

 She knew immediately that there was more to the boy'sbehaviour than just an ordinary temper tantrum. Unsure ofwhat to say, Farrah stood for a moment but Tariq's auntmerely straightened her shoulders defensively.

 'Rahman suffers from behavioural problems,' she saidstiffly. `He is very difficult to handle. He must be left to comeout of his temper by himself. Whatever you do, don't touchhim. He hates being touched. It makes him worse.' And withthat she walked off, leaving the child on the grass, screaming.

 Farrah let out a sigh of disbelief, shook her head anddropped onto her knees next to the boy. She wouldn't touchhim, but at least she could keep him company. `If it's any con­solation, this place makes me feel like screaming too,' shemuttered but Rahman took no notice because he was making too much noise to hear her.

 Farrah sat quietly, her mind absorbed, remembering achild with similar problems who had been sent by the familydoctor to the riding stable where she worked.

 The animals had helped him—really helped.

 Looking at the boy now, she wondered whether anyonehad ever taken him near the stables. Certainly there wereseveral ponies in Tariq's stable with the right temperament to carry a child. Wasn't it worth a try?

 She pondered the problem through an incredibly boring formal dinner that evening and when, the next morning, shefound Rahman screaming on the grass again she made up hermind. What was there to lose?

 And so Rahman became her project.

 She took him with her to the stables every day. At first hejust sat, silent and uncommunicative, on a pile of straw, watching while she tended the horses. Farrah took togrooming the quietest, most docile pony in the stables on adaily basis and eventually held out the brush to Rahman insilent invitation. He stared at her for a long moment and then he reached out and took the brush.

 `Circular movements,' she said calmly, `like this—'Shedemonstrated what she meant and then stood back, carefulnot to crowd him.

 Tentatively he started to groom the pony himself, hismovements growing more and more confident.

 Several days later, she persuaded one of the grooms to helpher take him for his first ride and Rahman smiled—reallysmiled.

 And eventually the temper tantrums lessened, just as she'dhoped they would. She watched in satisfaction one morningas he hugged and stroked the pony.

 `He really likes that,' she said quietly. `Hugs are very im­portant.'

 `1'mglad you think so,' came a deep, drawl from behindher and she turned to find Tariq standing there, a sardonic ex­pression in his dark eyes. `You seem to have taken up perma­nent residence in my stables—' His voice tailed off as he noticed Rahman and he gave a sharp intake of breath. For amoment he watched while the boy fussed over the pony andthen his jaw tightened.'Farrah. I need to talk to you.Imme­diately.'

 Worried that his icy tone would upset Rahman, Farrahslid out of the stable without arguing, moving just far awayenough that they couldn't be overheard but not so far that shecouldn't see the boy.

 `What's the matter now?' Her tone was flippant. `Shareprice dropped?Oil wells gone up in flames?’

 'Get the child out of the stable now. He shouldn't be in there.'

 Affronted by what she saw as a totally unreasonablecommand, Farrah opened her mouth to argue but then saw the look of concern in his eyes. He was worried. Which wassomething in his favour at least, she thought to herself.

 'Rahman's fine. He's great with the horses.'

 `How well do you know him? If he loses his temper he willfrighten them and they might hurt him,' Tariq said quietly andshe nodded.

 `Yes, I'm sure you're right. But he doesn't lose his temper around the animals. I've seen it before. Children often relateto the horses in a way that they just can't seem to relate to adults. It's amazing really.'

 His eyes narrowed. `What do you mean, you've seen itbefore? When have you ever come across a child like Rahman?'

 She hesitated. She was so used to hiding that part ofherself. But why not tell him the truth? The time for gameswas long over.`All the time, actually. I work in a riding stableand children with different disabilities are sent to us from allaround. The horses can't always help, of course—' she gavea tiny shrug `—but mostly they do. It's amazing to watch. Wehave children who have never been able to move under theirown steam before and then we put them on a pony and yousee their little faces as they walk across the yard for the firsttime-' She broke off and blinked, aware that Tariq waslooking at her with a strange expression in his eyes.

 `You work with children?’

 'Well, I work with the horses, really,' she confessed,pushing her hair out of her eyes. `My talentis knowing whichhorse will be good with each rider. I don't pretend to be anexpert on anyone's medical condition. There are other peoplewho do that. I just do the pony bit. Horses havepersonalities,you know that, just like humans. Some of them are kind andthey seem to sense whether they have to be gentle or not.They're so clever. That pony of yours over there—' shegestured with her hand to where Rahman was still grooming`—he's wonderful.Just the right type.'

 `I bought him for one of my little cousins but she was neverinterested,' Tariq said and Farrah shrugged.

 `Oh, well, her loss, Rahman's gain, I suppose. Is he yournephew?'

 Tariq nodded. `Yes. He has seen an endless round ofdoctors and psychologists and none of them have been ableto cure his terrible rages. It seems you've managed to do in

 amatter of weeks what specialists have failed to do in years.'

 Feeling suddenly awkward, Farrah rubbed the toe of herboot along the ground. `Not me, the horses.'

 Tariq breathed out heavily. `How often do you work inthe stables?'

 `At home?'She looked up at him.`Every day. I get there at five-thirty and I leave after the last child has gone. It's apretty long day, but I love it.'

 `You work in a stable every day?' He said the wordsslowly, as if he was having trouble comprehending and shenodded.

 `Apart from Sundays.And I even go in on Sundays ifthey're really desperate.'

 `And you didn't think this was something worth mention­ing to me?’

 'No. It's a part of my life I don't share with anyone. It em­barrassed my mother because she could never understandwhy I'd rather be up to my knees in mud than dressed indesigner heels. I'm sure you're equally embarrassed, butactually I don't care.' She lifted her chin defensively. `I do itbecause I enjoy it and because I'm useful.'

 He ran a hand over the back of his neck, a strange light inhis eyes. `We told each other many things in the desert andyet you didn't think to mention it.'

 `Well, you didn't think to mention that we were onlygetting married for forty days and forty nights, so you can'treally accuse me of keeping secrets,' she pointed out, movingback towards the stable.

 He grabbed her hand in an iron grip. `You are the mostcontradictory, infuriating woman I've ever met.'

 `And I bet you've met a few, so that's probably a compli­ment. I need to check on Rahman—' She yanked her handaway from him and walked back into the stable, murmuringquiet words of praise to the boy and the horse, aware thatTariq was watching, simmering quietly from the other sideof the stable door.

 She could feel his gaze burning into her back as she tookthe brush from the boy.

 `Time for your ride, I think.Let's saddle him up, shall we?'

 She waited for Tariq to become bored and leave but insteadhe followed her out to the paddock she'd been using to give Rahman lessons.

 `Don't you have anywhere to be?' Holding the pony'sreins, she shot him an exasperated look. `War could break outwhile you're hanging around here with me.'

 `War is undoubtedly going to break out if I don't have fiveminutes alone with you soon,' Tariq promised in an under­tone and she felt her heart jump in her chest.

 `Forget it.'

 `You are such a little hypocrite,' he breathed in a menacingtone. `You wantexactlywhat I want but you pretend other­wise.'

 `I don't want anything, Tariq, except to go home: And withthat she walked the horse forward, ending the conversation.

 She concentrated on Rahman and the pony and when she turned round again Tariq had gone. She should have beenrelieved that he'd finally left her alone, but instead she felt­—disappointed?

 Which just went to show that she was as stupid about theman as ever, she thought, turning her attention back to the boyand the pony.

 She went through her day feeling more miserable than everand after Rahman had left for the day she stayed on in thestables because she couldn't face going back to the Palace.

 She completely lost track of the time and when she glancedup and saw Tariq standing in the doorway she blinked in as­tonishment. He was dressed in a dark grey suit that seemedonly to emphasize the athletic perfection of his powerfulframe. His hair shone dark and glossy under the harsh stablelights and his arrogant features showed evidence of strain.

 `Tonight was the formal dinner to welcome the CrownPrince of Kazban,' he informed her helpfully and she felt astab of guilt which she pushed away.

 `If I was supposed to be there, then1'm sorry. I lost trackof time.'

 `Obviously.'

 `Was I supposed to be there?'

 `You're my wife. I married you.'

 `Well, not really—' She pulled a face and turned back tothe pony she was grooming.Anything to stop her looking athim.He was spectacular, she thought weakly.Stunning.Gorgeous.Virile.Masculine.Ignoring the slow curl of heat lowin her pelvis, she closed her eyes briefly and talked sense intoherself.Rat.Bastard. `You married my shares. And I sort ofcame along too, which must have been pretty inconvenient foryou.'

 With a harsh expletive that she didn't understand, hecrossed the stable and yanked her away from the pony.`Enough.' His voice was a low, throaty growl as he poweredher against the wall and trapped her there with the strength and heat of his body. `I have heard enough. You are deter­mined to simplify the complicated and soon we are going totalk about that, but for now I've had enough of talking andI've had enough of being patient. I have given you space tocalm down and be reasonable and it hasn't happened.'

 `Let me go, Tariq—' Overwhelmed by his masculinescent, the fire in his eyes,the sheer closeness of him,shepushed at his hard chest, struggling against a temptation solarge and potentially dangerous that her movements becamefrantic. `Let me go—'

 `No way—'

 `Oh, God, don't do this to us—to me—' She wriggledagainst him in an attempt to free herself and then gave a softmoan as she felt the hard ridge of his arousal and the warmthof his breath as his mouth closed in on hers.

 `You are the mostinfuriatingwoman.' His arms plantedeither side of her, blocking herescape, Tariq's voice washusky and seductive. `I don't know whether to strangle youor kiss you.'

 `Strangle me, definitely—it will be better for both of us,'Farrah gasped, her heart pounding hard against her ribs, her head swimming. `I don't want you to kiss me. I really,reallydon't want you to kiss me—'

 If he kissed her she'd be lost. If he kissed her, she'd­—

 His mouth came down on hers with punishing force, his kissravenous and desperate, trapping her sob of need. His handsslid down her arms and lifted them to his neck. He wanted herto cling and she clung, her arms wrapped round his powerfulshoulders, her own shoulders pressed hard against the wall by the power of his body and the force of his passion.

 She forgot that she didn't want him to kiss her. She forgotthat this man had hurt her. She forgot that she'd resolved tokeep her distance. She forgoteverything except the fact thatshe'd kept her distance for two long weeks and now sheneeded him. She needed him badly.

 His kiss was savage, a primitive assault on her senses that destroyed all thought and will power. Excitement whippedthrough her body like a loose electric wire as he stole and

 plundered, his body hard against hers until all she could feel was the pumped up, insistent throb of pulsing masculinity.

 She felt his hand slide up to cup her breast and she archedin a desperate plea for more. Responding to her silent demand,he used both hands to jerk her shirt open in a rough, impatientgesture that sent buttons flying and made the pony throw upher head in alarm. But neither of themwere aware of their sur­roundings. They were aware only of each other.Of thepounding hammering of hearts and the frantic lock of seekingmouths.

 `I need you naked,' Tariq groaned, his hands swift and determined as he stripped her of the rest of her clothes and shewas so completely desperate for him that she did nothing buturge him on. Her entire focus became the insistent, throbbingache deep within her body that grew to monumental propor­tions and threatened to drive her mad with frustration.

 Need made her uncoordinated and she clawed at his suit,groaning in frustration when her fingers met fabric insteadof flesh.

 When she felt his mouth on her bare breast she closed hereyes and gasped at the sheer perfection of the feeling andwhen she felt his strong fingers slide between her legs shegave a moan of frustration because his touch brought her soclose to ecstasy and yet not close enough.

 The hard, cold wall of the stable pressed against her bareback but she was oblivious to everything but her body and his.Her need and his.

 Frantic for him, she reached down and fumbled with hiszip and he covered her hand with his and helped her with thetask. He was painfully aroused and so hot and hard that herentire body throbbed withan urgency so monumental thatnothing could have stopped the inevitable.

 Her desperation bordered on the indecent but she didn't even care.

 `Now, Tariq—' her voice was strangled `—now, please—'

 His eyes glinted dark, his breathing was harsh and he liftedher without hesitation, wrapped her legs around him andentered her with a hard, possessive thrust that brought a sobof pleasure and relief to her lips.

 She felt the force of him deep inside her as he took her withbarely contained violence and she moved her hips and clung tohim as excitement surged through her body, caring for nothingexcept the need which grew and grew from deep within.

 He thrust deep and he did it again and again until hervision blurred and her entire body exploded in a shower ofsensation so exquisitely perfect that for a moment she ceasedto breathe. She felt him shudder as he reached his own des­perate climax and then there was only the slow descent backto normality.The unsteady breathing.The sudden intrusionof the outside world into their private place.The cold wall.The rhythmic munching of the pony in the corner of thestable...

 Dazed and disorientated, it was only as he lowered hergently to the ground that Farrah realized that, although shewas totally naked, he was fully clothed. Even his stylish silktie was still in place.

 For some reason, this stark reminder that she'd thoughtabout nothing but her own need for him increased her mor­tification and she stopped quickly and retrieved the remainsof her torn shirt. Head bowed, fingers shaking, she slipped it on and reached for her trousers.

 Tariq caught her arm, his eyes dark and stormy, his breath­ing less than steady. `Wereallyneed to talk—'

 And that was the one thing she didn't want to do.

 He was going to tell her that they might as well staytogether until such time as he grew bored with her. Wasn'tthat more or less what he'd offered her five years before?Aplace in his bed until he decided that it was time to fill it with someone different?

 Perfect mistress material­—

 Well, that wasn't what she wanted. What they shared wastoo powerful, but it was just sex, and sex wasn't enough forher. She couldn't live with him, knowing that he'd divorce herwhen the time was right.When it suited him.

 Eventually he'd get bored with the sex and then wherewould she be? In love with a man who didn't return herfeelings and she couldn't live with that.

 Hehad tolet her go. That had been his plan all along andhe probably wanted it even more now that he realized that shewasn't the person he'd thought she was.

 So she'd leave and make it easy for him.

  

 CHAPTER TEN

  

 THEfollowing morning, Farrah went in search of Asma.

 She was drinking coffee and looking at dress designs andseemed more than a little disconcerted to see Farrah standingin the doorway.

 `I'll come straight to the point.' Farrah closed the door sothat their conversation couldn't be overheard. `I want to leave this place, but I can't do it on my own so you're going to haveto help me.'

 Asma closed the book and gave her a cold look. `Whywould I help you?’

 'Because you don't want me here and you never did,'Farrah pointed out and Asma gave a tiny shrug.

 `I don't think—'

 `Good, because you don't need to think,' Farrah said pleas­antly. `I just need you to find a reliable way of transportingme to the border with Kazban without Tariq knowinganything about it.'

 The book fell from her hands. `You're going to cross theborder?’

 'Once I'm in Kazban, I'll persuade the authorities to letme fly home,' Farrah explained impatiently. `I can hardlyjust take a commercial flight out of Tazkash, can I?’

 'I suppose not. You're seriously leaving?'

 `That's right. And I want to do it quickly. You're his cousin.You must be able to arrange something. I just need transport,that's all, and a driver who knows the way.'

 She had no intention of repeating the fiasco of the desert.

 Asma's breathing quickened, as though she couldn't quitebelieve her luck. `I—yes, I could, of course, but—'

 `Good, that's settled, then. Tariq is tied up in meetings withthe Prince of Kazban all day. I want to be gone long before he comes looking for me.'

 Asma rose to her feet. `I'll order a car for you. It will beoutside the stable gates one hour from now.'

 `Good.'

 Which left only one further thing to do before she left.

 Farrah returned to Tariq's apartment and found her bag.Inside was an envelope she'd had sent out fromEnglandonlytwo days earlier.

 She opened it up and stared at the contents, her eyes fillingwith tears. Then she blinked them away, picked up a pen and got to work.

  

 The journey was smooth and without incident.

 Farrah told herself that she was hugely relieved that Tariqhadn't chosen to leave his meeting early and hadn't suspectedanything. She wouldn't have wanted him to follow her. Shereally, really wouldn't.

 So why was it that no sooner did she brush away one tear,another one took its place?

 She stared out across the dark gold dunes, which stretched into the distance, wondering if she'd ever see the desert again.Probably not.She wouldn't be coming back to Tazkash for athirdtime, that was for sure.

 The knowledge that she might never see the place again lefther unutterably depressed and she was so lost in thought that ittook her a few moments to realize that they were slowing down.

 When she finally noticed the buildings along the road andthe men in uniform, she leaned forward in her seat with afrown. 'What's going on?’

 'We've reached the border between Tazkash and Kazban,'camethe reply and for some reason his words simply in­creased her misery.

 So this was it, then.

 Once they drove past those guards, Tariq would be in a dif­ferent country, far away from her. Oh, why was she kiddingherself? She brushed the tears away angrily. Tariq had alwaysbeen far away from her. He was from a differentcountry, adifferent culture-he was in a different league. They'd neverstood a chance. All they shared was passion and that justwasn't enough.

 She was about to look back at the majestic dunes for a finaltime when her door was jerked open and a uniformed guardstared down at her.

 `Passport.'His face was hard and unsmiling and she felt aflicker of disquiet as she rummaged in her bag and handedover the document.

 He took it from her and gestured for her to get out of the car.`Come with me.'

 Farrah did as he ordered, wondering whether this was aroutine happening at the border.

 He led her into the stone building and then stood to oneside to let her pass. `In there.'

 Wondering what was going on, she walked into the roomas he'd instructed and then stopped in shock. The door closedbehind her but she wasn't even aware of that fact.

 Tariq stood by a desk in the middle of the room, dressedin another sleek designer suit, his handsome face taut withstrain. `Must I keep you locked up? Every time I turn my backon you, you run away.Why?'

 She found her voice. `What are you doing here?'

 `Abandoning my royal duties, as usual,' he said in a raw, impatient tone. `If I wasn't the one in charge I would havebeen fired by now for taking so much time off. If you wereto take your rightful place by my side as my wife, I might geta great deal more done in my working day.'

 She curled her hands into her palms. `My rightful place isnot by your side. It was never meant to be like that, was it?’

 'Why did you leave me these?' He threw the envelope on to the desk and she bit her lip.

 `They're share certificates, Tariq. You married me forthose. I hope you live happily ever after.'

 She felt her voice crack and she turned towards the door,intending to leave before she made a complete fool of herself, but he moved so swiftly that she didn't even manage to takemore than a step towards freedom.

 `You're not going anywhere,' he said grimly, propelling heragainst the wall and trapping her there with his arms.

 It reminded her of that incredible night in the stable andshe felt tears threaten again.

 `You married me for my shares, Tariq. Those are the sharesand I just can't do this anymore. I'm leaving.'

 `You're not leaving.'

 `The shares are yours. You can divorce me. You don't evenhave to wait forty days and forty nights.'

 `I won't be divorcing you.Ever.'

 `You're being ridiculous—'

 His mouth moved closer to hers. `You think what we shareis ridiculous?’

 'What we share is just sex, Tariq. And I'm not prepared tostay with you until you get bored with me.'

 `Bored?' He laughed in genuine amusement. `Bored? Iwould give much for the opportunity to become bored byyour company,laeela.You tell me exactly how you feel; Idoubt you will ever learn to filter what happens between yourbrain and your mouth and you are reliably unpredictable.Every time I turn my back you are escaping and now Idiscover that you have a completely secret life of which Iknow nothing. There are many words to describe our relation­ship, but boring is certainly not one of them.'

 'I'm not good at palace life.'

 `You haven't made any effort to become involved in palacelife,' Tariq said quietly. `And I can hardly blame you for that.On your first visit here, my relatives were horribly unkind to you and gave you advice that made you feel even more awkward andout of place and that caused me to misjudge you.'

 She lifted her head and looked at him. `You knew theydid that?’

 'At the time, no.' His tone was weary. `I'm afraid that fiveyears ago I had a great deal to occupy my mind. My fatherwas seriouslyill, the economic future of the country wasunder threat from different directions. The demands on mytime were such that I didn't give any thought to your feelings whatsoever and for that I apologise. All I saw was that whenyou arrived at my palace you changed into a different person.'

 `I was trying to please you. I was trying to be the personI thought you wanted me to be.'

 His eyes gleamed with a certain wry humour. `I'm awareof that now. And I'm also aware that you were led down thewrong path by my family.'

 `How did you find out?'

 He released her then and turned and paced back across theroom. `I was determined to discover who told you about theplan to divorce you after forty days and forty nights. It didnot take a genius to trace it back to my own family. Asma hasalways been horribly indulged by my aunt.'

 `Well, I'm sure when she's your wife she'll learn to behaveherself,' Farrah muttered, sidling towards the door.

 `The guards are instructed not to allow you to pass,' Tariq informed her pleasantly, `so there's no point in attemptinganother of your escape bids until this conversation is finished.And Asma will never be my wife.'

 `Does she know that?’

 'She does now. I made a point of speaking to both her andmy aunt and pointing out that the role is no longer vacantbecause I am married to you and that is the way it is staying.There will be no more misunderstandings from that quarter.And anyway, my aunt has revised her opinion of you sinceyou have worked such a miracle with Rahman. You will find her eager to secure more of your help in that direction.'

 Farrah closed her eyes. The heat in the room was intolerableand her head was throbbing after her sleepless night. `Why would you want to stay married to me?Because the sex isgood?’

 'No, because you are the woman I want to spend the restof my life with.'

 `I embarrass you.'

 `That'snottrue. Five years ago I was completely charmedby you and then we returned to the Palace and I saw a differ­ent side of you.' He hesitated and his mouth tightened. `Thisdoes not reflect well on me, but I confess that I was concernedthat you were like your mother, a concern that my relativesused to their advantage when they gave you such unfortunateadvice on how to dress and behave.'

 It was painful hearing it and yet at the same time his wordscreated a flicker of hope inside her. He hadn'twantedher tobe like her mother. `So when you discovered that you would

 haveto marry me you must havehatedthe idea—'

 He ran a hand over the back of his neck, visibly discom­fited. `Marriage toanyonewas never at the top of my list,' he said honestly, `and I think I only agreed to itI knew that a divorce was possible. I wasn't reallyabout you. I only thought about me. I realize that does me no credit,' he added hastily, `but you have to under­stand that I had a completely false impression of you at thatpoint. It didn't occur to me that a divorce would bother youat all.'

 `So you came after me purely for business gain.'

 His gaze was wary. `You are making it sound very bad butthat is all in the past and it is the future that matters. The futurethat I am determined that we will have together.'

 Her heart stalled and she swallowed hard. It was time to behonest. `You don't know me, Tariq. You have no idea who Iam.'

 `And whose fault is that?' He turned on her, his dark eyesflashing, his mouth grim. `You accuse me of not knowingyou, you are quick to blame me for all the faults in our rela­tionship, but are you not at least partly to blame too? You werecareful to keep so much of yourself hidden away. Think aboutit, Farrah.'

 `You think I'm a lightweight party animal. You think that of all women. You think all we care about is hair and shoes.'

 `Because up until now that has been true of the women Ihave had the misfortune to mix with. But you gave me noreason to question my own prejudices. In fact you chose toperpetrate that image, did you not?' One ebony brow lifted in challenge. `Is it not true that you turn up at high society events looking like a million dollars and socialize?’

 'Yes, but—'

 `And you appear to be enjoying yourself. Do you adver­tise the fact that you were working with disadvantagedchildren in a grubby stable only minutes before you slip onyour high heels?’

 'No, but—'

 `It is true that I'm perfect in many ways,' Tariq drawled ina slightly mocking tone, `but even I have yet to perfect theart of mind-reading and it's time that you offered the odd ex­planation for your own behaviour in all of this. You placedcertain facts in front of me. You built an image for yourselfover the years. Why did you do that?'

 Farrah swallowed.`Because I was always a disappoint­ment to my mother.She wanted a girly girl and instead shegot me. As I child I was overweight, clumsy and I lovedbeing outdoors. I was useless at ballet but good at ridinghorses. I spent my teenage years treading a fine line betweenpleasing myself and pleasing her.' She took a deep breath.`And I also changed my image because of you. When you toldme that I wasn't good enough to be yourwife, that was thefinal spur I needed to reinvent myself. You hurt me so badlythat I thought I could put a protective shell between myself and the world and so, from then on, I lived two very differ­ent lives. And the glamorous socialite bit wasn't as empty and useless as it sounds. I raised lots of money for the charities Icared about.'

 `And during the day you worked with horses and chil­dren.' He raised a brow in question. `So, having heard thatstory, can you honestly blame me if I chose to believe theimage you portrayed? I interpreted the facts as you pre­sented them to me and was that not exactly what you wantedand expected people to do?'

 Farrah stared at him. He was right, of course. Shedidpresent a certain image to the world.An image very differ­ent from her real self.In fact, she relished the fact that, even

 insuch public times, she'd managed to keep a large part ofherself so private.

 `Wealth makes you suspicious of people and their motives.' She bit her lip as she made a feeble attempt to explain.

 `My mother found the real me highly embarrassing so I'velearned to hide who I am. I suppose I'm not used to trustinganyone with my secrets.'

 `And neither am L In that way, at least,we are similar.'

 She'd never thought of it like that, but it was true. Howcould she blame him for forming the wrong opinion of her,when she herself had been at least partially responsible forgiving him that opinion? `Five years ago you invited me tobe your mistress—'

 `I was under a great deal of pressure at the time. My fatherwas desperately sick but not so sick that he couldn't interferewith everything I was doing.' Tariq strode around the room,his expression fierce. `My time in the desert with you was an oasis of calm in my life. I wanted you to stay with me butsuddenly we returned to the Palace and everyone in theKingdom found reasons why I should not be with you, reasons that you supported with your manner of dress and your behav­iour.'

 `It should have been about us, Tariq, not anyone else—'

 `You have no idea how often I wished that to be the case.How often I wanted to heave the responsibility on to someoneelse and ride off with you, as we did for so many months onthe beach.A man and a woman. You dreamed of Nadia and her Sultan and yet I was weighed down by the responsibilityof running the country in my father's place. You saw every­thing as simple and yet, for me, the simple did not exist.'

 She felt a stab of guilt and realized suddenly that, until thatmoment, she'd never really understood the monumentalpressure that he'd been under. `I only ever thought about ourrelationship,' she admitted, aware that she'd been hideouslyself-absorbed and selfish. `I thought you were ignoring me.'

 `I was up to my ears in palace politics, as you so accuratelycall it,' Tariq said dryly and Farrah blushed.

 `And I was naive. I admit it. I should have realized whatAsma was doing, but I didn't have any confidence in myself.Have you any idea of what it is like to be just eighteen and in love with the sexiest man in the world?' She swallowed. `My mother destroyed my confidence in myself and yourpalace was full of gorgeous women, far more sophisticated and worldly than me. There was no way I could compete.'

 `But I did not want a woman who was sophisticated andworldly. I wanted you. Which is why, when the opportunityto come after you presented itself, I snatched it.' He walked over to her and took her hands in his and she stilled.

 `What are you saying?'

 He lifted her hands to his lips. `I'm saying that even theneed to gain control of your father's company wouldn't havebeen enough to tempt me into marriage unless that was whatI wanted.'

 Her heart pounded. `But you needed my father's compa­ny.

 `That deal could have been achieved in other ways,' Tariqsaid quietly, still holding her hands tightly. `The truth is whenI was offered an excuse I grabbed it, not because of the sharesbut because I wanted to marry you. I only realized that myselfrecently.'

 `You're just saying that because you're in a tight spot.' Hewas a master negotiator-she knew that and she'd made a foolof herself over this man twice. She wasn't going to do it again.

 `I told myself that I was marrying you for your father'sshares because I was not ready to admit, even to myself, thatmy reasons could be more complex than that.'

 'Tariq—'

 `Don't interrupt me. I'm trying to say something I'veavoided saying for my whole life and it isn't easy.' Hereleased her hands and paced over to the other side of the room before turning back to face her. `I love you. I marriedyou because I loved you, although I don't think even I recog­nized it at the time, and I want to stay married to you becauseI love you. There, I've said it three times and it's gettingeasier already.' He gave a self-deprecating smile and for amoment she couldn't speak.Couldn't respond.

 `You love me?’

 'Unbelievable, isn't it?' He spread his hands in a fatalis­tic gesture. `Finally I fall in love with a woman who lovesme in return, but it is all in jeopardy because of my stupidity in linking our marriage with a business deal. How am I everto convince you?'

 She wasn't ready to give in that easily. `How do you knowthat I love you in return?’

 'You have always loved me,' Tariq said softly, `but it hastaken me a long time to recognize that too. You see, I'm notused to seeing love. My parents didn't love each other andnone of the women I have been with have loved me any morethan I loved them.'

 `You married me intending to divorce me—'

 `That may be true. But I made up my mind on our weddingnight that I wouldnot be divorcing you.'

 `But Asma—'

 `Our marriage is no one's business but our own.' He foldedhis arms across his chest and lifted an eyebrow. `And now itseems to me that I've been doing a great deal of grovelling and apologizing for a Sultan and I'm hearing very little fromyou in return.'

 That statement sounded so much like his usual arrogantself that she gave a slow smile, hope building inside her.`What do you want to hear?’

 'A declaration that you intend to stop running away?Some­thing about you being crazy about me, loving me madly—' therewas a glimmer of humour in his eyes `—that kind of thing.'

 `We're different, Tariq—'

 `Afact for which I am grateful on a daily basis,' hedrawled; strolling towards her and dragging her into his arms.`Enough argument. Wearedifferent, it's true. But we aresupposed to be different. Different is good.'

 `You're arrogant and stubborn—'

 He gave a dismissive shrug. `And you speak without thinking.It's part of the person you are and I love you for it.'

 `You always command and order—'

 He slid his hands either side of her face and dropped agentle kiss on her mouth. `And you are ridiculously, extrav­agantly, impractically romantic, but I love you for that too.'

 She stared up at him. `You don't know me—'

 `I know everything you have allowed me to learn,' he saidsoftly. `I look forward to discovering the rest if you'll allowme to do so.'

 `But—'

 `I know that you love horses and children, that you are kindand giving. I know you like the simple life butare also com­fortable at formal occasions. I know that politics and intriguemake you uncomfortable but I'll teach you how to cope withit. I know that you love our desert, enjoy our food and that you are not safe to drive on a sand dune.'

 She gave a gasp of outrage. `I drive well on sand!'

 `You will, after more lessons,' he said confidently and she laughed.

 `You're assuming I'm staying.'

 `Why would you leave, when you know that you love ithere? Despite what you think, you will not have to live your life in a goldfish bowl. There are many charitieswho wouldbe glad of your help and there is a riding school withinFallouk where you could help if that would make you happy.'

 `It wouldn't embarrass you?’

 'On the contrary—' his voice was soft and there was astrange light in his eyes `—I never thought it possible to beso proud of my wife.'

 She felt colour touch her cheeks.`And your pipeline?'

 Tariq released her and took a step backwards, his expres­sion serious. 'The pipeline is a crucial project. I spoke to yourfather a few days ago and explained everything to him. Hewas surprisingly reasonable, given the circumstances. I willno longer be taking over the company but we have agreed ona partnership that will benefit both parties.'

 Relieved that her father's business was no longerinjeopardy, Farrah smiled. `He's a man who understands love.’

 Tariq nodded.`Obviously. Now that you are my wife,heis coming here tomorrow to reopen discussions on how toproceed with the project. So all that remains is for you todecide what you are going to do when he arrives. Should youstill wish to leave, I'm sure he would be happy to take youhome. Alternatively, he can join us for some belated weddingcelebrations.'

 For the first time she saw uncertainty in his eyes and it wasthat uncertainty that made up her mind.

 `I am home, Tariq.' She walked towards him and reachedup to hug him. `You know I love you—'

 `Yes, I do know that.' Tariq's voice was unsteady. `But I didn't know if you would be able to forgive me for the lessthan conventional route we took to reach this point.'

 `The thing about love is that it's generous and forgiving,'she breathed, `love is kind and everything good. And love canperform miracles.'

 `That I know to be true.' Tariq leaned down, his mouthhovering temptingly close to hers, `because I found you. Andthat truly is a miracle.'

 `If I stay married to you, do I have to dress like a queen?’

 'Only part of the time,' he promised in a husky, sexy drawl.`The rest of the time you will beundressed—'

 And with that he kissed her, leaving her in absolutely nodoubt that as well as being generous, forgiving, kind andgood, love was also perfect.

  


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