Historical Romance Books 1 – 4. Marguerite Kaye

      She mistook his tone. ‘I am sorry, of course I’m not. The subject is painful to you. I beg your pardon.’

      ‘The past is not a place I care to visit.’

      ‘We have that much in common then.’

      Her words were tinged with sadness. This independence she was so set on was costing her very dear. Not a choice, but a painful necessity. Whatever the reason, he was not inclined to pain her by further questions, but he had to admire her spirit. ‘When the Sabr trophy is restored to Bharym, my kingdom will be free to embrace its future. You will be free to embrace yours. And I, too, will be free to embrace mine.’

      Her dazzling smile made him forget everything save her nearness and the strength of his desire for her. ‘I confess I find myself thinking of a different kind of embrace at this moment,’ Rafiq said.

      The pink tip of her tongue flicked over her lower lip. ‘We said we would forget what happened between us,’ Stephanie said, making it clear that she was equally aware of him.

      ‘Have you forgotten?’ he asked.

      ‘No.’ Another flick of her tongue that made his blood stir. ‘I wish I could,’ she said.

      If only she had forgotten. If only she did not desire him, or he her. Was there really so much harm in a kiss? He pulled her into his arms, and her lips touched his, and his resistance crumbled.

      * * *

      It was an illusion, Stephanie tried to tell herself, as she pressed her lips to Rafiq’s. It would not last, this sweet, hot desire which had her in its heady grip. This tingling she felt as he kissed her did not herald something more profound, only a prelude to ultimate disappointment. Yet when he feathered those delightful kisses over her bottom lip, she shivered. Slowly, surely, his kisses coaxed her into wanting more, into believing that more would be even more satisfying. It was different this time. Was it? She didn’t want to compare. It didn’t compare. Did it?

      Rafiq stroked her hair, fluttered kisses over her eyes, nibbled on the lobe of her ear, kissed the sensitive skin behind it, making her shudder with delight. Then he began his assault on her mouth again and she forgot to think, surrendering to the slow dragging, drugging pleasure of his kisses, his tongue, his hands on her hair, caressing her back, her hair, her back again, showing no inclination to explore further. Only stroking her in the least provocative and intimate of places served to be provoking all the same.

      She didn’t want it to end. Could it be that Stephanie was, after all, the kind of woman she had been branded? The thought shocked her into dragging her mouth from his. ‘No.’

      Rafiq set her free immediately.

      ‘I can’t. I mean I must not,’ she added hurriedly. ‘You are my employer, and...’

      ‘And as such, I have already assured you that I would not take advantage of the situation. I may have your future in my hands Stephanie, but does it not occur to you that you have my future in yours?’

      It had not. Ashamed and embarrassed, she gazed at him mutely.

      ‘What do you imagine I would do if you rejected my advances?’ he asked, his tone softening. ‘Forgetting for the moment that all I have done is kiss you, nothing more. Do you think I would risk everything, my kingdom’s hopes and aspirations, my family’s reputation, my own solemn pledge, by summarily dismissing you?’

      ‘I thought that you would think—that you would say—you respect me, Rafiq. I don’t want to endanger that.’

      ‘Why would my desire for you as a woman endanger my respect for you as a veterinarian?’

      ‘You don’t understand.’’

      ‘Then enlighten me.’

      She could feel the flush of mortification burning its way across her chest, up her throat to sear her cheeks. Unable to trust herself to speak, she shook her head, keeping her eyes lowered, her fingers clasped tightly together. Her toes were curled up tight inside her slippers. Her throat felt clogged. She knew she owed him some sort of explanation, but the very thought of telling him the shameful truth was too much to bear. ‘I’m sorry,’ Stephanie said, ignoring the hot tears which were trailing down her even hotter cheeks. ‘I can’t.’

      ‘I respect you as my Royal Horse Surgeon. I kissed you because despite the fact you are my Royal Horse Surgeon, I don’t seem to be able to resist you, and because I thought that you too—but I should not have.’ Rafiq sighed, tugging at the high collar of his formal tunic. ‘When you kiss me I forget that you cannot be experienced.’

      ‘I’m not experienced, but I’m not an innocent either, and I seem to be just as unable to resist you as you—’ Stephanie broke off embarrassed, for she had taken herself as well as Rafiq completely by surprise. It appeared she was not as proficient at learning from experience as she had imagined herself.

      She gave herself a little shake. ‘However we feel, it doesn’t alter the fact that we have far too much to lose, to allow ourselves to be distracted, no matter how tempting. Now if you will excuse me, I will return to the duties which I have been appointed to carry out.’ It was cowardly of her, but Stephanie gave Rafiq no time to reply, heading for the sanctuary of the stables with necessary but most undignified speed.

       Chapter Five

      Stephanie was struggling to continue reading in the gathering gloom. With a sigh, she untied the scarf which held her hair back and closed the covers of The Compleat Horse Doctor, which she had been perusing in the hope that she might have missed something of import. She had not, and her battered copy of Instructions for the Use of Farriers Attached to the British Cavalry and to the Royal Board of Ordnance proved as irksome as ever, with its outdated remedies and procedures more likely to kill than cure. Checking her copious notes, she was forced to accept that she had done all she could for now. The sensible thing would be to go to bed.

      Lighting a lantern, she quit the little office space she had purloined, and headed into the main stable block, making her way down the row of boxes until she came to Sherifa’s stall. The mare snorted, taking the dates Stephanie offered with a haughty toss of her head. Two years ago, her mistress, Princess Elmira had died. ‘Do you still miss her?’ Stephanie whispered. Did Rafiq?

      ‘The past is not a place I care to visit,’ he had said yesterday. In that respect they were of like mind, though their motivations were very different. Rafiq’s past was tragic, whereas hers was simply sordid, her shame exacerbated by the knowledge that her downfall was entirely of her own making. She had allowed herself to be dazzled by the attentions of a handsome man. She had allowed herself to believe he meant his charming declarations of love. She had not allowed herself to reflect on the disparities in their situations. She had effectively let her heart rule her head, to disastrous effect. And now here she was again, dazzled by the attentions of an even more handsome man, whose station in life was so far above her own as to be risible.

      She fed Sherifa another date. She had imagined herself in love with Rupert. She was under no such illusions when it came to Rafiq. It was as unthinkable as it was impossible. Rafiq was a man of honour and integrity. Despite the apparent similarities, the two men, the two situations could not be more different.

      She smiled to herself. For the first time since she had fallen so catastrophically from grace, her loss of reputation struck her as strangely liberating. What’s more, looking at things from this fresh perspective, the fact that Rafiq was a prince was also a liberating factor, since he was so far beyond her reach as to inhabit another planet. She would never, ever be so foolish as to imagine that she could be anything to him other than his Royal Horse Surgeon. And that should, provided she always remembered it, make things both simpler and safer.

      It was a comforting thought. Not that she had any intentions of acting on it. Quitting the stables, Stephanie was taking the long way back to the palace, enjoying the cool night air under the glittering discs of the desert stars, when a painful