Desert Prince's Forbidden Desire - Page 22

The town fell behind them as they rode slowly towards the mountains. Finally, in a field of wild flowers, Khalil reined in the horse and slid to the ground. He looked at Joanna and held up his arms. She hesitated, then put her hands on his shoulders and dropped lightly to the ground.

‘What is wrong, Joanna?’

She bowed her head, not wanting him to see the sudden dampness she knew must be glinting on her lashes, but he framed her face in his hands and lifted it to him.

‘Is the truth so awful to see?’ he said softly.

She shook her head again. Had she seen the truth, or had she seen illusion? It was becoming harder and harder to tell.

‘Then why are you crying, Joanna?’

‘I’m not,’ she said, while one small tear coursed down her cheek.

He smiled a little and caught it on his fingertip. ‘What is this, if not a tear?’

She sighed as she stepped away from him. Slowly, she bent and plucked a daisy from the chorus nodding at her ankles. She lowered her face to it, inhaling its sweetness, and then she stared blindly into the distance, where the mountains rose towards the sky. At last, she turned to Khalil and said what she had not even wanted to think.

‘You told me the truth when you said the price of my freedom would be my father’s willingness to give up his deal with Abu, didn’t you?’

He nodded. ‘Yes.’

Joanna swallowed hard. ‘And he’s refused to do it, hasn’t he?’

Khalil nodded again. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a low voice. ‘The only reality I wished you to see was that of my people.’

‘There are many different realities, Khalil. Perhaps—perhaps it’s time I finally faced my own.’

‘Joanna.’ She lifted her head and the hood of her cloak fell back, revealing her pale oval face and the long, fiery spill of her hair. ‘I am certain he thinks I will change my mind and send you back to him.’

‘And will you?’ Her eyes caught his. ‘Will you send me back, even though you haven’t gotten what you wanted from Bennettco?’

Khalil came closer to her and cupped her face in his hands. ‘How can I send you back?’ he said fiercely. ‘How can I do that, Joanna?’

He couldn’t. She was his pawn, his bargaining chip—and, knowing that, believing she was in the hands of a man he thought a bandit and a barbarian, her father was still reluctant to do the one thing that would free her, to give up a fortune in the earth for his daughter’s release.

No. No! It couldn’t be! Khalil was lying. He was lying about everything.

‘If there’s a shred of decency in you, you’ll free me,’ she said.

His eyes darkened. ‘I told you, I cannot.’

‘You’ve lied to me! You haven’t really contacted my father—’

‘Joanna!’ He took her by the shoulders. ‘Listen to me.’

‘My father loves me,’ she said, her mouth trembling.

‘In his way, I’m sure he does. But—’

‘There is no “but”, Khalil. Whatever you showed me today was—it was interesting, but—’

‘Interesting? What do you mean, “interesting”?’

‘I mean, it’s interesting to—to see a little backwater town where—where people aren’t living in poverty and misery, and I suppose—I suppose it must be quite a salve to your ego, hearing them talk about how wonderful you are, but that’s not the whole story. There’s more to it.’

‘Joanna, dammit! If you won’t listen to me, listen to yourself! What you’re saying makes no sense.’

‘No!’ She flung her hands over her ears. ‘I won’t listen! I won’t!’

‘You will listen,’ he said fiercely, catching her wrists and forcing her hands to her sides. ‘You will, because—because…’ He looked into her eyes, and then he pulled her into his arms and his mouth fell on hers.

‘Don’t!’ Joanna pushed against his chest. ‘I hate you, Khalil!’

‘Liar,’ he whispered, catching her mouth with his again.

‘You think you can solve everything this way,’ she said, twisting her face away from him. ‘You think you can silence me and—and make me believe things that aren’t true!’

Khalil’s arms tightened around her. ‘The only truth that matters is this one, this hunger that has been between us since the night we met.’

‘Don’t try and make it sound romantic! We met because you were determined to make it impossible for Bennettco to conduct legitimate business, and—and then you—you kidnapped me! You carried me off on your plane and—’

‘And desired you, even then.’ He laughed huskily. ‘A hundred years ago, I would have carried you off on the back of my horse.’

‘Exactly!’ Joanna thrust her hands against his shoulders. ‘Your ancestors were barbarians, and you—’

‘My ancestors knew what they wanted and took it.’ He caught her hands in his and held them against his heart. ‘As I want you now—as you want me.’

‘No! That’s not true! I despise you, Khalil, I—’

He kissed her again, his mouth moving softly against hers.

‘Despise me all you will,’ he whispered, ‘but do not deny me—or yourself.’

He was wrong. She was not denying anything. She didn’t want this, didn’t want his mouth on hers or his hand moving against her skin…

No. No, she didn’t. She didn’t…

Oh, God! With a desperate cry, Joanna threw her arms around Khalil’s neck. He whispered her name and then his open mouth met hers in a wild kiss. His fingers speared into her hair as they sank to the ground and she fell back among the flowers, taking him with her. Khalil groaned and kissed her again and again, his mouth hot against hers.

It was as if Joanna were being swept along in a fever of desire. Her fingers flew to the neck of his jellaba, burrowed beneath his open-throated shirt. She had to touch his skin, had to feel its heat against hers or surely she would die.

Khalil lifted her to him, curving her soft body into the hardness of his. He kissed her deeply, crushing her mouth under his until she knew the taste of him would be a part of her forever.

He knelt and drew her up with him. ‘Joanna,’ he whispered as he slipped the white cloak and then her cotton shirt from her body. The air was cool against her skin, but his mouth and hands were hot. She caught her breath as he cupped her breasts and when he bent and kissed the nipples, she cried out in pleasure.

Khalil lowered her gently to the grass, then drew back.

‘No,’ she cried, reaching out to him—but he had only left her so he could strip off his jellaba and then his shirt. How beautiful he was! His skin was the colour of honey, his muscles hard and clearly defined. He was male perfection, and he was hers.

‘Touch me,’ he whispered, taking her hands in his and bringing them to his chest.

She gasped at the feel of his skin, hot from the sun and from desire.

‘Joanna, my beautiful Joanna.’ He came down beside her and stroked his fingers along her skin, over the curve of her breasts, down over the slight arch of her belly. ‘How I want you,’ he whispered, ‘how I have wanted you from the moment I saw you.’

She reached up and clasped his head, brought his mouth to hers and kissed him, and then she smiled.

‘How much do you want me?’ she whispered.

A dark flush rose along his cheeks. He clasped her hand, brought it to his mouth and bit lightly at the soft skin below her thumb, then drew it slowly down his body, to where his aroused flesh pressed against his trousers. Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks as he cupped her hand over him. His erection seemed to pulse through the cloth, the heat of it burning her palm like flame.

‘That much,’ he said thickly. He bent to her and kissed her, his tongue moving within her mouth as she knew his body would soon move within hers.

A primitive rush of joy and desire swept through her. This was what she wanted, what she’d wanted from the start. Khalil, in her arms. Khalil, kissing her and touching her and bearing her down, down int

o the soft, sweet grass…

…Khalil, her captor. Her keeper. He had spoken of reality, and of truth, and yet wasn’t that the one truth that mattered? She wasn’t here of her own free will, she was here because one man refused to bargain for her freedom and another refused to grant it—and now she was in the arms of the man who’d caused the conflict, behaving as he’d predicted she would from the first night he’d met her.

With a cry, Joanna shoved free of Khalil’s arms and scrambled to her feet, snatching up her cloak and whipping it around her, trembling with rage at him, at her father, but most of all, at herself. Khalil rose too, his eyes blurred with desire, and held out his hand.

‘Joanna,’ he whispered, ‘what is it?’

‘Who in hell do you think you are?’ she said shakily. ‘Treating me like—like one of your slave girls!’

His brows knotted together. ‘What?’

‘I’ve read a lot of stuff about women and—and this kind of sex,’ she said, her words rushing together, ‘about—about rape fantasies, but—but I never believed any of it, not for a minute, until—’

‘Stop it!’ Khalil’s mouth twisted as he took a step towards her. ‘You’re talking nonsense.’

Tags: Sandra Marton Billionaire Romance
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