The Royal Collection. Rebecca Winters

I assume you’ve been with other women, so I can’t imagine what the issue is.”

      “You are not my wife yet.” His words were insistent. Maddeningly opaque.

      “But I will be.”

      “And when we consummate, it will be then. And it will be in the proper order.”

      “Am I to understand that you object to the spontaneity of this?” She was just peeved now.

      “Yes. Because I refuse to allow my body to dictate my actions.”

      “There is nothing wrong with this...”

      “After the wedding.”

      “Perhaps I don’t want to wait until after the wedding.” She was feeling slightly ashamed of how hard she was pushing. But then, why should she not? This was to be her marriage, too. What she wanted was important. And she wanted him.

      “I must maintain my focus. I cannot afford to be distracted.”

      “Tarek—”

      “I can be ruled by nothing. My only master is this kingdom. I must do everything in my power to protect it. I have spent my life casting off earthly desires, and I will not give in to them now.”

      Somewhere in her lust-fogged brain, she tried to make sense of his words. Tried to figure out something to say next. But she couldn’t.

      “Get out,” he said, “or I will leave and find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

      “I’m not going to beg,” she said, her tone wooden. “Nor am I going to violate your person against your will.”

      “Tonight went well. Do not let this ruin it.”

      She sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you know anything about women?”

      “No,” he said, his tone dark.

      “If you did, then you would know that rejection is always going to cast a pall over the evening.”

      “I’m not rejecting you. I am marrying you.”

      She flung her arms wide. “Well, I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

      “Why are you angry with me?”

      “Because,” she said, ignoring the tightening in her throat, “you hurt my feelings.”

      Oh, how she despised herself for that moment of honesty. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was too deep in this to see that she was letting it affect her judgment. Normally, she was much more like Tarek. Guarded. Holding back pieces of herself. Not allowing desire or a need for anything to dictate her actions.

      Maybe he was right to be wary of this thing between them.

      His dark brow furrowed. “How?”

      “Because...I take it as...commentary on my appearance. On my appeal.”

      He let out a hoarse laugh. “There is nothing wrong with your appeal. That is the problem. I cannot allow your appeal to become bigger than my goals.” His dark eyes dropped down to her lips. “I must never let my own desires become larger than the tasks I have to complete.”

      “Not even desiring your fiancée?”

      “Nothing. Where would it end? You don’t understand... My brother... He was driven entirely by his own desire. It was not limited to sexual need. But greed. For power, for money. It overtook him. And we carry the same blood. Where does it begin? And where does it end? I don’t know the answer. I will give no foothold to that level of greed. None. Not even for you. I must keep my focus clearly set.”

      “But later...”

      “It will be different. It will be in its place. Part of my obligations, and not merely a temptation.”

      “Am I a temptation?”

      He clenched his teeth tightly, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “You are the only real temptation I have ever faced.” With that, he turned away from her, summarily dismissing her without another word.

      But he couldn’t dismiss the admission. She was a temptation for him.

      She had never been a temptation for anyone before. For Marcus, she had been another indulgence in a lifetime of them. And she hadn’t even truly been that. She had been the suitable woman, the one he had married.

      She tempted Tarek.

      She wanted to hold that close, to examine it and turn it over in private, where she could decide how exactly she felt about it.

      “When exactly are we to be married?”

      Another raw laugh escaped his lips. “From where I am standing, I would say the sooner the better.”

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      A WEEK SINCE his encounter with Olivia had done nothing to cool the arousal in his blood. She tempted him, she tempted him beyond the need for anything else. He had been in dire straits in the desert. Sometimes without food, sometimes without water. And yet, now he craved her more than he craved either of those things. And it was unacceptable.

      He was determined not to succumb to this. This wild need that was like a prowling animal inside him, tearing at years of well-practiced restraint.

      Even now, he could taste her on his lips. Could recall exactly the soft, delicate feel of her mouth beneath his.

      He had nearly crushed her beneath his need. He had been rough. He despised himself for that. For his lack of restraint.

      He paced the length of his chamber. He had set the wedding day today. Had told his advisor that everything would need to be planned and set into motion for a ceremony to take place in two weeks’ time. He’d had a notice sent to Olivia. He imagined she would be quite annoyed with him.

      He didn’t care. He was quite annoyed with her.

      With all that she made him feel.

      She expected sex. Of course she did. She had been married before, and she had no reason to expect their relationship to deviate from what she considered normal.

      Nothing about him was normal.

      He considered himself the furthest thing from an innocent. After all, he had endured grief, loss, torture. He had taken the lives of enemies when necessary. There was no place for innocence when you had watched a man’s soul depart from his body at your own hand. No, no room for it at all.

      And yet, while he considered himself devoid of innocence, the word virgin hung large as an accurate description for his state of being. Indeed, he had never even kissed a woman until that moment with Olivia. There had never been opportunity. Or perhaps there had been. There had been many women in the Bedouin camps, widows who probably would have appreciated a bit of comfort and company. But he had never allowed his focus to stray. Had never allowed the impulses of his body to control his actions.

      That focus, that determination had been paramount to his survival. Releasing his hold on it was never an option.

      Whether he was a virgin or not had never mattered until now. Sexual desire was simply another appetite he’d cast off.

      But he was discovering that introducing the desire for sex, the appetite for it, was much different than an appetite for food. He had managed to find ways to keep himself fed without allowing himself to desire rich flavors. Without allowing himself to be controlled by specific cravings.

      Now that he had tasted Olivia, he wondered if there was any way to satisfy sexual need in a basic way. One that wouldn’t consume.

      He doubted it now.

      Of course, part of the issue was that he remained uneducated on the subject.

      He had seen a great many animals copulate. Knew what that looked like. Knew the