Lifting her head with his hand, he kissed her. She gasped her pleasure against his mouth, gripping his shoulders, biting into his flesh with her fingernails, marking him in her own act of possession.
The force of his taking was primal—unstoppable. He heard her cry out and could hold back no longer. He gripped her against his body as he poured himself into her with a shout.
He collapsed back on the red blanket, holding her against him. He did not know when he woke. She was still sleeping in his arms.
They were both naked. The fire was dying. The night was growing cold, the darkness growing around them.
He felt her shiver. He looked down at her face. She was sleeping, her cheek pressed against his chest. Her beauty went beyond her dark hair or perfect pink lips. It went deeper than her pale skin with roses in her cheeks.
Even after all the times he’d made love to her, he did not feel satiated. And he was starting to fear he never would be.
He did not want to divorce her.
Silently, Kareef withdrew himself from beneath her body and rose to his feet. Crossing the cave, he pulled a second blanket from the horse’s pack. Crawling back beside her, he covered them both with it, wrapping her in his arms. He knew, even in sleep, he would not let her go.
Growing drowsy, he looked down at her sleeping against him. He wanted her like this every night. In his bed. At his table. On his arm. Charming diplomats with her beauty. Dancing in his arms.
With her beauty and gentle grace, Jasmine would be the perfect queen. But…
His jaw tightened as he stared at the dying fire.
He still had to divorce her. He had to provide an heir of the blood. The Al’Ramizes had reigned Qusay for a thousand years. His cousin Xavian had given up the throne when he’d learned he was a changeling, a substitute for a lost Al’Ramiz child.
Blood meant everything. It gave the Al’Ramiz men the right to rule. Not just the right—the obligation. And Jasmine could never become pregnant with his child.
His throat became tight. He looked away, staring at the bumps and rocks of scattered earth illuminated by the fading embers of the fire. Outside, he could hear the rattle of the sand against the solid rocks of the cliffs, hear the wind wailing in disappointed fury as it slowly died.
He slept fitfully, holding her tight.
“Kareef.” Her naked body stirred in his arms. “Are you awake?”
Her voice was like a dream, full of sweet warmth, offering such peace. He slowly opened his eyes.
At the mouth of the cave, above the piles of new sand, he saw the gray light of dawn creeping over the western mountains. The wind had died down. The desert was calm. He could hear the plaintive sound of morning birds, hear the soft whinny of the stallion hungry for breakfast.
It was morning. The storm was over.
Their time was over.
Unwillingly, he turned to Jasmine. Her face was like cool water, a balm to his spirit. Her brown eyes reflected deep pools of light. But it only made the pain worse.
He did not want to let her go.
“It’s barely dawn,” he lied softly. His arms tightened around her. “Go back to sleep.”
For a moment, she rested against him, and silence fell in the cool darkness of the cave. Then she shifted in his arms and her head popped up to look down at him. “Do you think your men are looking for us?”
“Yes,” he said. “They will be here soon.”
He heard her intake of breath, felt her pull away from him on the blanket. When she spoke, her voice was curiously flat. “Then it’s time.”
“Time?”
“Time for you to divorce me.”
He looked up at her. Her expression had turned to stone, the pools of light shuttered and gone. She glanced over at the black fabric now crumpled on the other side of the cave.
“I know you have the emerald,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he said, his jaw tight. “I brought it with me.”
“So eager to be rid of me?”
“I promised to set you free.”
She lifted her chin, her expression a mixture of bravado and pain. “So do it.”
Kareef’s hands tightened into fists.
Jasmine was right. It was time. The storm was over, and his men were no doubt grimly combing the desert. Soon, they’d be found, and Kareef would return to Shafar. Back to the royal palace, back to his endless duties. He would be hosting a royal banquet tonight.
Then, tomorrow, he would attend the Qais Cup. And witness the wedding of Jasmine Kouri to Umar Hajjar.
It was dawn. The magic was over.
“Kareef?” Jasmine looked at him, her eyes swimming with misery.
She felt the same as he did, he realized. She did not want this divorce.
The knowledge flooded him with sudden strength.
So he would not give her up. Not yet. He wasn’t done with her yet.