He was like a wounded animal that was raring to maim and hurt anyone who dared come close.
Not that anyone could question his sanity or his decisions regarding Dahaar. Not after the past ten days where he had spent countless hours in negotiation with the Sheikh of Zuran building a strategy to counter the terrorist groups that were a threat to all three nations of Dahaar, Zuran and Siyaad. The same groups that had tortured him, that had killed his brother and sister. Not after two terrorist cells had been taken down in one month under his strategic planning.
The media had declared that he was a better statesman than his father was and speculated about the leaps of progress that Dahaar would make under his rule.
If he survived the year...
And standing on the sidelines, watching him push himself without interfering, Zohra had never felt more powerless, more useless.
The moment she entered the tent, he reached her. After ten days of keeping her distance, Zohra was starved for the sight of him.
“Believe me when I say this, Zohra. I have zero patience today. Now, why are you not on your way to Monaco?”
Zohra frowned. Tension radiated from him, the skin tugged tight over his lean features. “I decided to holiday later. Right now, I’m coming with you to the desert for the tribal conference.”
“I know how much you have embraced your duty, Princess,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his tone, “but let me tell you the truth. No one truly cares whether you are present or not.”
His words cut to the weakest part of her. “True, but without me who will dare to tell you that the veneer of civilization is slipping, Your Arrogant Highness?”
“This is the first conference with our tribes in six years.” His tone gentled, his gaze lingering over her in an almost pacifying way, the intense hunger in it belying his casual words. “If you are there, your safety will weigh on me.”
She had never felt so aware of another person, so clued in to every nuance in a word they said, every gesture they made. She wanted to shake him and comfort him at the same time. “I’m not a stranger to desert life. I used to run a project in Siyaad that—”
“I know about your Awareness Projects, Zohra. You travel to the desert in teams and educate the tribes about basics—hygiene, disease, education, women’s health.”
“Then are you going back on your word and forbidding me from continuing my work, my life as before?”
He leaned close and her skin snapped to life. The faint scar on the top of his left eyebrow should have made him look flawed. Even just a little would have been fair. Instead, it only added to his powerful personality. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? I think nothing would make you happier than if I became that arrogant bastard you envisaged that first night in Siyaad.”
She swallowed past the knot in her throat. “If you turned into an arrogant jerk, and by the way you are halfway there, I wouldn’t have to worry about you killing yourself. I would be the merriest widow in the world, wouldn’t I? All the freedom and none of the duties.”
His mouth touched the corner of hers, and her knees wobbled. Molten heat prickled along her skin even as she cursed her betraying body. “Is Faisal going to be there, Zohra?” He whispered the words into her skin—an assault on her senses and a cutting insult all wrapped in one. “Is that why you are so eager to return to work?”
She pushed his hand from her, tears gathering in her eyes. “You think I proposed starting a life with you ten days ago and now am panting to see Faisal again? I guess you really are no different when it comes to what you think about me, are you, Ayaan?”
She turned away from him, hating the fact that he could wound her so easily. His opinions were beginning to matter too much, and yet she had no way to stop it.
Before she could take another step, he pulled her back to him. He held her loosely this time, his thumb catching the tears that threatened to fall. “Ya Allah, I’m not worthy of your tears, Zohra.” The frost in his gaze thawed, his mouth lost the tightness. He ran a hand through his hair, looked around, as though searching for the right words. His gaze found her again, hungry, intense. “I spoke without thinking. That remark...it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. Please accept my apology.”
The air left her lungs in a loud whoosh. “Then accept that I’m coming with you, Ayaan. I did nothing to violate our agreement in the past ten days. I stayed far away from you and believe me, it was a miracle in—”
“You exist, Zohra. That is torment enough for me.”
Her heart skidded to a halt. His words spoken through gritted teeth were soft, and yet rang with a depth of emotion. The hungry intensity of his gaze was etched into her mind, the naked want in it inched its way around her heart.