A Question of Honour. Kate Walker

the contrary, she had been hissing and spitting defiance at him ever since he had arrived, like some beautiful, hostile, wild cat that had been driven into a corner and trapped there, her back against the wall. And just because she was sleek-boned and soft-haired, he would be all sorts of a fool if he let himself think of her as any sort of kitten rather than a fully grown cat. She was far more likely to lash out and scratch him viciously if he tried to touch her, rather than purring and preening under his caress.

      Just for a moment the thought of her arching that elegant back to meet his hands, or rubbing the softness of her hair against his face made his breath knot in his throat, his blood heating as his body tightened in the sort of purely carnal hunger he hadn’t known for some time.

      Hell, no! This was not the way he had expected to feel about this woman. It was the last thing he should feel about the betrothed bride of the young King of Rhastaan. It went against all the laws of honour and trust. It threatened the reasons why he was here right down to the very roots that had founded them. It was why he had had to move away from her earlier, when the purely instinctive move to offer her a drink of water had suddenly turned into some sort of brutal sensual endurance test. He hadn’t been able to stay there, so close that he could feel the warmth of her body, see the pulse of her blood beating blue under the fine skin at the base of her throat. When she moved, some delicate scent had slipped into the air and combined with the soft brush of a wandering strand of her dark silky hair across his face, which caught on the roughness of the day’s growth of dark stubble to create a burn of response that was almost more than he could endure.

      Suddenly he wanted her so much that it hurt. He had never wanted a woman so much and yet she was the last woman he could ever, should ever feel that way about. She was not available; not for him.

      She was forbidden to him.

      So the best damn thing that he could do was get her out of here, on the jet where she would be safe and hidden again, on their way to Rhastaan, and deliver her to her bridegroom just as soon as he possibly could.

      ‘So—are you going to pack?’ he demanded, his voice rough with all that he was fighting to hold back.

      He wouldn’t even meet her eyes though he could tell that was what she wanted. She sought to confront him face to face, challenging everything he said.

      Was she really so irresponsible, so careless of the consequences of her actions, that she would defy him out of sheer perversity? That she would put everything so many people had worked towards in jeopardy on a selfish whim? She had been given a touch of, if not freedom, then at least the chance to run on an exceptionally loose rein for a while. But even the most magnificent thoroughbred was the better for a little restraint, a strong grip on the bridle, a light touch of spurs, to keep it under control. Clementina Savanevski, soon to be Queen Clementina of Rhastaan, could not be allowed to run wild any more. And if anyone could be relied on to bring her under control then he was the man to do it. That was one of the reasons why his father had sent him on this mission in the first place.

      ‘Well?’

      ‘I am packed,’ she surprised him—stunned him—by saying. He had been expecting further defiance, further rebellion. In fact, if he was honest he was actually a touch disappointed that she wasn’t digging in her neat little heels, bringing up that small chin once more and letting her glorious amber eyes clash with his in pure defiance. He’d expected it, and anticipated the thrill of battle that would come from bringing her back under control.

      ‘You are? Then it’s time...’

      ‘But not to leave here,’ she disconcerted him by adding. ‘I’ve only packed an overnight bag.’

      ‘That won’t be adequate.’ She knew that; why was he even having to say it? ‘You need to pack everything you want to take with you. You’ll not be coming back here again.’

      ‘Oh, but there you’re wrong.’

      Something had set her soft mouth into a surprisingly hard determined line, and the way she shook her head sent the dark hair flying again, tormenting his nostrils with that subtle floral scent.

      ‘I’m only going away for one night this time—and then I will be back. I’ll do my proper packing then. Look...’ she broke in hastily when he opened his mouth to reject her outrageous statement and tell her just what he thought of such stupidity ‘...I can explain.’

      ‘You can try,’ Karim growled, fighting the urge to grab her by the arms, bundle her out of the door, into his car and drive away from here just as quickly as he could. That would meet one of the demands of this mission and get her on the road back to Rhastaan as soon as he could.

      But it would also defeat the other part of the plan, which was to move her from A to B with as little fuss and publicity as possible. If he virtually kidnapped her—because that would be how she would interpret his actions—then she would react strongly, possibly go into meltdown and panic completely. She would certainly not go quietly—not this woman. If she started screaming for help or calling for the police, even here in this small village, she would soon draw too much unwanted attention to who they were and where they were going.

      ‘You’re not going anywhere. Not for one night—not for any time at all.’

      ‘But... Please...’

      Hastily, she seemed to adjust her frame of mind, altering her tone to match so that it was suddenly disturbingly soft and cajoling. Obviously, she had decided to try to entice him round to her way of thinking. And the shocking thing was the way that just hearing that low, almost gentle tone changed his mood. He wanted to hear more of that voice, could imagine it murmuring to him in bed, whispering temptation in the heated darkness of his room. And that was not an image he needed in his mind right now.

      ‘Haven’t you ever wanted—needed—to keep a promise? So much so that you would do anything at all to make sure you did just that?’

      ‘What?’ His brows drew together in a dark frown. ‘Of course I have.’ It was why he was here now. ‘But...’

      ‘Then you’ll know exactly how I’m feeling right now. I made a promise...’

      ‘To whom?’

      ‘To Har—to someone,’ she corrected hastily, obviously horrified that she had almost blurted out the truth. ‘Someone who really matters to me.’

      She had been about to give someone’s name. A man’s? Harry? Someone who really matters to me.

      ‘Nothing matters—’ Karim’s tone was harsh and unyielding. His face seemed carved from stone, not a muscle moving to reveal any sympathy or understanding. ‘Nothing should matter more than the promises you made—your commitment to Nabil.’

      ‘I know all about my commitment to Nabil and, believe me, I mean—’ Something caught in her throat, making the words tangle there, tight as a knot, so that she had to struggle to force them out. ‘I mean to honour it.’

      She had no choice. None at all. Not unless she wanted to risk the ruin of international relations between two powerful kingdoms. The possible outbreak of hostilities. The destruction of her family’s reputation. Hadn’t her father drummed it into her from the moment he had signed the documents? He had made it sound as if it was her sacred duty. She had been fifteen before she’d realised just how much he was getting out of it himself, that the luxury they lived in had been bought from the sale of his own daughter.

      ‘But not yet.’

      ‘You will be twenty-three in nine days’ time.’ Could his voice be any more cold, any more inflexible? ‘You do not have any more time to delay. You’ve had your freedom, been let off the leash for a while; now it is time to consider your duty.’

      ‘Consider my duty!’

      Clemmie threw up her hands in a gesture that was a blend of exasperation and despair.

      ‘Do you think I’ve ever done anything else? That I’ve ever been able to forget it?’

      ‘Then you will know