Hot Arabian Nights. Marguerite Kaye

and left you alone?’

      ‘No.’ She clutched his hand tightly. ‘If you can brazen out the scandal of my presence, then I can bear the shame of being the subject of palace gossip.’

      ‘I will not have you bear any shame,’ Azhar said fiercely.

      Julia laughed. ‘You are not my King, Azhar. My feelings are my own to command.’

      He smiled, twining his fingers in hers. ‘Your feelings and your life will be yours to command entirely very soon. You should be proud of yourself, Julia. I am proud of you.’

      ‘Thank you.’ The words were bittersweet, reminding her of all that she would be leaving behind, reminding her of all that Azhar would be giving up. She had wrestled with her conscience when he had come to her rooms this afternoon, having escaped his Council meeting, but her conscience had been no match for her heart. He did not love her, he would soon enough be duty-bound to love another woman, but for these next few precious days he would be hers alone.

      Carefully holding on to the pommel, Julia leaned closer to Azhar and kissed him fully on the mouth. ‘There,’ she teased, ‘that is to prove that you were wrong when you said it was not possible to make love on a camel.’

      ‘I will accept that it is possible to begin to make love on a camel,’ Azhar replied, ‘but as to whether or not we can continue...’ He moved so swiftly that he left her breathless, commanding both beasts to their knees before sweeping Julia from the saddle, holding her high against his chest. ‘I prefer not to have to worry about controlling a camel, when I have sufficient to worry about, in controlling my appetite for you, Julia.’

      She laced her arms around his neck. ‘Are you hungry, Azhar?’

      His smile made her blood fizz. ‘Ravenous, Julia.’

      ‘Then please, abandon any attempt at controlling your appetite for me,’ she whispered into his ear, ‘because I too am starving.’

      Her words made his eyes darken. Grabbing a blanket, leaving the mules and camels which formed their little caravan still tethered together in the care of his Saluki hound and his hawk, Azhar carried her swiftly across the sand, to the point where the trees and shrubs screened them from the rippling sands of the desert. Lying down on the blanket beside her, he kissed her softly, but Julia desired kisses as fierce and as wild as her love. She rolled on top of him, trapping his body underneath hers, and claimed his mouth, kissing him urgently, until his mouth and his hands became urgent too, pulling her tightly against the pulsing length of his erection.

      Julia moaned. She wriggled, struggling to free herself of her pantaloons and relishing the way the movement made Azhar shudder, made her shiver. She kicked herself free of the garment as Azhar tore himself free of his trousers. She was struggling to pull her tunic over her head when he pulled her back on top of him, fastening his mouth around one of her nipples, and she could feel her climax building, already peaking.

      ‘Wait,’ Azhar said, trying to claim her mouth again, but Julia couldn’t wait. One more swift kiss, and then she slid him inside her, not slowly as she had done before, but urgently, drawing him in swiftly and deeply, making them both gasp with delight. The rhythm she set was fast, but he matched her, arching underneath her, pulling her tight against him with each thrust, with each thrust pushing hard, high, so that the illusion of control she harboured was quite lost as her climax ripped through her, and it was only his own last vestige of control that allowed him to lift her clear as he came too, crying out her name into the desert sky.

      * * *

      Their simple camp had none of the glamour of their previous trip to the desert, for they carried everything with them on the pack mules, but Julia knew that it would be this night she would remember most fondly. The Bedouin tent was Azhar’s own, a simple wooden frame covered with animal skins. As he set it up, Julia laid the fire. Dinner consisted of hare and vegetable stew, the meat more succulent than that first one they had shared, and Julia had to admit, far tastier, thanks to the palace cook who had prepared it for them. Afterwards, they sat together by the dying embers of the fire, looking up at the stars, watching the moon’s ghostly reflection dance on the gently rippling waters of the lagoon.

      Julia was reluctant to disturb the perfect peace, but at the same time, she wanted to make the most of the opportunity to discover as much as possible about Azhar’s future. She would never know it, but she would like to try to imagine it. ‘Have you decided what to do with your brother?’

      ‘I think I have come up with a fitting solution,’ he said with a wry smile, ‘that is if I can persuade my friend Kadar to co-operate.’

      ‘The Prince who brought Daniel’s watch? What has he to do with it? Are you going to send Kamal into exile in his kingdom—what was it called?’

      ‘Murimon. No, I am not sending my brother into exile there, though he will certainly be spending some time in that kingdom—that is, as I said, if Kadar is agreeable.’

      Julia must have looked as confused as she felt, for Azhar laughed. ‘Border controls,’ he said. ‘You know from personal experience that the black-market trade unfortunately flourishes. It is a much bigger problem for Kadar, whose kingdom has a very large coastline. As a trader myself, I thought that I had a good understanding of the shadier side of the business, but when I questioned Kamal as to how he had disposed of the diamonds he stole, I was quite taken aback at the extent of his knowledge. It made me realise how vulnerable we are, and how much work has to be done to put an end to it.’ Azhar grinned. ‘It also made me realise that I had the ideal man for the job.’

      Julia burst into astonished laughter. ‘You plan to make your brother responsible for stamping out illegal trade?’

      ‘Unfortunately, no one knows better where to root out that illegal trade than Kamal.’

      ‘He surely won’t agree?’

      Azhar’s expression hardened. ‘Offered the choice of that position or permanent house arrest, he had little option.’

      ‘You are right, it is a peculiarly apt solution, and one that avoids shaming your family name, as exile would. In England, we would say you had forced the poacher to become the gamekeeper. I think you have been very clever.’

      ‘Thank you. I wish my little brother was more grateful, but I fear I have earned his eternal enmity.’

      ‘Oh, I think you simply have to accept that you will endure Kamal’s enmity no matter what you do. Even if you had abdicated in his favour, he would have found a way to blame you for the chaos his rule would most certainly have brought to Qaryma,’ Julia said.

      Azhar put his arm around her, pulling her head on to his shoulder. ‘I wish I could disagree with you.’

      ‘And what of his partner-in-crime, the Chief Overseer?’

      ‘Once I had settled on Kamal’s fate, I applied the same principle to his accomplice,’ Azhar said. ‘What you call poacher cum gamekeeper again. He has been stripped of his position on the Council, obviously, and has returned to the diamond mine in the rather less exalted position of guard, searching the miners at the end of every shift for any purloined gems.’

      ‘You do not fear that he will reveal your brother’s role in the crime?’

      ‘I made it crystal clear that I would have no compunction in exiling him if I heard so much as a rumour to that effect. I think his silence is ensured.’ Azhar sighed. ‘I thought long and hard about whether I was treating Kamal more leniently because he was my brother, but I honestly believe that he will suffer far more from the loss of prestige and the loss of his luxurious lifestyle than the Chief Overseer.’

      ‘I think you have been more than fair,’ Julia said. ‘I think you have been creatively just.’

      She felt the rumble of his laughter against his cheek. ‘Have I told you that you have a unique perspective on life?’

      She sat up, pulling his face towards her. ‘I like this perspective very much.’

      Azhar