Desert Sheikhs Collection: Part 2. Susan Mallery

is odd in more than one sense. Contradictory as it seems, our engineers and geologists insist there is not an ounce of oil in the area,” he informed her. “So we think of the palace crystal as a gift from the Gods.”

      “I can’t argue with that. It’s so beautiful.” She sighed in remembrance. “What’s the purpose of this trip?”

      “We’re a scattered people. I make it a point to visit each tribe at least once a year.” He stretched out his long legs, taking up even more of her space. “I’m afraid I must read these reports now, Mina.” He gestured to some papers that he’d slipped into one of the pockets lining the limousine doors.

      She nodded in acquiescence, thinking over everything he’d said. It was clear that while Tariq didn’t yet trust her with his love, he had no qualms about sharing the business of his sheikdom with her. For the first time in her life, she felt a part of something greater, not just an outside observer. With hope renewed in her heart, she plucked a small sketchbook out of her purse and began to design a dress of moonlight and silver.

      Tariq looked up from his papers to find Mina’s hand flying in graceful strokes across the page. Her face was intense in concentration, her mouth set in a way that suggested something had caught her attention. He was fascinated.

      When they’d first met, she’d been a student, but her studies hadn’t captured her interest. Today, she was fully absorbed in her thoughts. This was, he realized with a sense of wonder he couldn’t fight, the first time he’d truly come face-to-face with the woman his Mina had grown into.

      “May I see?” he asked, wanting to learn about this new Jasmine, this woman who threatened to catch him in a net far stronger than the one that had ensnared him four years ago.

      Startled blue eyes looked into his, but then a slow smile bloomed. “If you like.” At the shy welcome, he moved to sit beside her, his arm along the back of the seat.

      He looked over her shoulder. “An evening gown.”

      “I thought that I’d use material shot with silver.”

      Her hair was soft against his fingertips as he leaned down to study the clean lines of the drawing. “You’re talented. This is lovely.”

      Her cheeks flushed with color. “Really?”

      There was hunger in the need she tried to hide. He recalled her defensiveness about her designing when he’d first questioned her—the reaction of someone whose dream had never received support. Distanced from the rapier-sharp pain of the past, he began to see a glimmer of the forces that had shaped this woman and her decisions. A kind of furious tenderness for her rose inside him. The urge to punish those who had hurt her while she’d been lost to him was so strong, he had to exercise conscious effort to control it.

      “Yes, really. You might find some material to your liking in the shipment that comes from Razarah in the next month.” In fact, he’d make sure that bolts were delivered for her perusal. “Tell me about your designs.”

      Eyes bright, she did. The journey passed in easy companionship that surprised him. Since he’d ascended to the throne, he’d never been free to simply “be” with anyone. Now Mina, with her laughter and her dreams, was tempting him to relax. To play. Did he trust her enough to unbend that much?

      Five

      “I’m scared,” Jasmine blurted out.

      Tariq turned to face her. “Scared?”

      She nodded. “They’re so big and…”

      To her surprise, he walked over and pulled her into a gentle embrace. “Don’t worry, Mina, I’ll take care of you.”

      “Promise?” Her voice was shaky. She hadn’t thought through the idea of what a trip on the back of a camel would entail. It had been something vague and slightly exotic.

      “What is this?” Tariq moved back, his hands on her shoulders, eyes dark with concern. “You’re terrified.”

      She nodded, miserable. “I can’t stand heights and their backs are so high.”

      “There is no other way to reach the tribe or we’d take it.” He cupped her cheeks in his palms.

      “It’s okay. I can handle it,” she lied.

      “So brave, Mina.” He rubbed his thumb over her quivering lower lip. “The car is still here. You may return home.”

      Jasmine’s head jerked up. He’d been so domineering in his demand that she accompany him that this concession was a real surprise. “You don’t want me to come anymore?”

      “I would not have you suffer.”

      She bit her lower lip. “How long will this trip take?”

      Tariq dropped his hands to her waist. “It’ll take three days to reach Zeina. With the time I must spend there and the return trip, a week and a half is an optimistic guess.”

      A week and a half! She couldn’t bear to be parted from him for that long. “I’ll come. Can I ride with you?”

      He nodded. There was approval in the soft kiss he dropped on her lips. “You can snuggle your face against my chest and close your eyes, just like you do in bed.”

      She blushed. It was true that she liked to sleep with her head on his chest, her arms and legs spread over him, but she hadn’t realized that he’d noticed her preference. She raised her hand and stroked his jaw, which was shadowed by his white head covering. “Thank you, Tariq.”

      “You are welcome, my wife. Come, it is time to go.”

      Sometimes, Jasmine thought, as Tariq helped her mount the sway-backed creature, her husband could be the most thoughtful of men. He mounted behind her before she could begin to panic. For the ride, both of them were in wide-legged pants and tunics, their heads and necks also covered from the harsh sun.

      Her stomach lurched at the camel’s first step, but she kept her eyes resolutely forward, determined to conquer this fear if it killed her. The endless desert vista was an unexpected ally, tranquil and beautiful. By the time they stopped for the day, she was watching everything with wide eyes. The camel’s rolling gait was a little disconcerting, but as long as she didn’t look directly at the ground, no nausea arose. And in truth, her husband’s strong grip around her waist almost gave her the confidence to do that as well.

      However, she understood that even he couldn’t help her with a sore rear. They had stopped at a hidden desert oasis for the night when she discovered just how bad it hurt. After they arrived, she excused herself and walked until she was out of sight of the men. She quickly took care of her needs and then stood in the shadow of a small tree, rubbing her sore behind.

      Tariq’s low chuckle made her spin around, face flaming. He was standing less than a foot away, his arms crossed over his chest, a wide smile on his aristocratic face.

      “What are you doing here?” She dropped her hands and started to walk past him, embarrassed.

      He caught her around the waist with one arm and swung her against his hard body. She turned her face away. Tariq nuzzled her neck affectionately. “Don’t be angry, Mina. I was worried when you didn’t return to camp.”

      Mollified, and melting from his warm touch, she decided to be honest. “It hurts.” For the first time since she’d arrived in this land, she felt ill at ease, a foreigner unused to the ways of these exotic people. She needed Tariq’s comfort. What she got was something totally unexpected.

      His hands dropped to her bottom and began to massage her aching flesh with soothing strokes. “It will get worse before it gets better. I believe that’s a Western saying.”

      She groaned, too relieved to be embarrassed. His hands felt like magic, but she knew that if he kept going, she’d do something silly like ask him to make love to her. Shoving at his chest, she backed