Desert Sheikhs Collection: Part 2. Susan Mallery

didn’t hear him, because she’d already fallen asleep. Stroking her hair off her face, he wondered if she would remember her declaration tomorrow. It didn’t matter, because he would. The fist that had been clenched around his heart loosened. Maybe being unable to control his feelings wasn’t the disaster he’d thought. Not if this was the outcome.

      While she slept, Tariq couldn’t help but compare the woman he’d seen over the past week to the girl to whom he’d given his heart, only to have it rejected. In his arms, she was fire, unafraid of her sensuality. Yet in the desert, though her persistence had angered him, she hadn’t given up probing for the truth of the past. The autocratic part of him that expected instant obedience bristled at her audacity. But there was a bigger part of him that was awed by her feminine strength. This was a woman with whom he could rule.

      Since Paris, he’d wanted to take a chance on his wife. Tempted by the promise of the last few days, he found that the urge to let his barriers fall was almost irresistible. He wanted to give her his trust. Except the last time he’d done that, she’d almost destroyed him. Did he dare to try again, even knowing that she still hid something from him?

      She had her panther back.

      “You will follow my orders. You will not venture into Zulheina today.” Tariq slammed the flat of his palm on his desk, the sound as loud as a pistol shot in the quiet study.

      Jasmine put her hands on her hips and scowled. “Why not? I’ve always been able to do so before.”

      “I have given an order. I expect it to be obeyed.”

      She blew out a breath through pursed lips. And she’d wanted this fiery, hot-tempered creature to come back? “I’m not a servant to be given a command!” She lost her temper for the first time. After the powerful intimacy of the last few days, he could act with a tad more consideration. “Give me an explanation that makes sense and I’ll stay.”

      Tariq stalked around his desk and put his hands on her waist. Then he picked her up until they were eye to eye. Her feet dangled off the floor. Jasmine placed her hands on his shoulders and refused to be intimidated.

      “Has a terrorist organization infiltrated Zulheina?” she guessed wildly. “No, I’ve got it. Today is the annual Kill-the-redhead Festival. No, no wait, is it Tariq-is-going-to-act-like-a-dictator Day? Am I right? Come on, am I even close?” She pushed at his shoulders, furious at the way he was demonstrating his greater strength.

      His shoulders started to shake. She squinted at his face. “Arrgh! Let me go, you…No, I can’t call you an animal because that would insult the animal.” Tariq laughed harder, his eyes sparkling. “Stop it you…you husband!”

      “Mina.” His smile was blinding. “Mina, you’re magnificent.”

      That made her pause. It had sounded like a compliment. She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you going to tell me?”

      “It seems I have been insulted into submission.”

      “Hah! Your hide is as thick as a rhinoceros’s. Anything I say just rolls off,” she muttered under her breath. “Put me down.” He wrapped his arms even tighter around her and walked through the door, into the corridor.

      “Tariq, what are you doing?” She glanced around, hoping against hope that no one else was around. His official study was in the main wing of the palace. “My feet are bare. My slippers fell off when you picked me up.”

      “Then it is just as well I am carrying you.” His reply was insufferably male.

      She gave up. Wrapping her arms more firmly around his neck, she hung on, realizing that he was taking them back to their rooms. “Are you planning to lock me in our suite?”

      He paused and then resumed his ground-eating stride. “I had not thought of that. It is an excellent idea.”

      Jasmine shook her head and tipped her head back, but she couldn’t catch his eye. “Bad idea. Very bad idea.” When he didn’t reply, she narrowed her eyes and tried to shake his shoulders. “You wouldn’t…would you?”

      “I must have a way to deal with the bad-tempered hellcat I’ve married.” He pushed through the doorway to their suite and headed for their bedroom.

      “Bad tempered!” She scowled. “Me? I think you’ve got your wires crossed.”

      “At least it’s not my eyes.”

      “Eyes? What…I can’t believe it. You made a joke?” She gave a theatrical gasp that turned into a cry of surprise when he dropped her onto the bed. “Be still my heart.”

      Tactile pleasure shimmered over her when he lowered his body full-length over hers. He started to stroke her with his talented hands. “Is this supposed to be a distraction?” she demanded.

      “Would it be successful as one?”

      “Oh, yes,” she sighed. “But tell me the truth, please?”

      “Persistent little creature,” he complained, but his tone was affectionate. His eyes were heavy with sensual promise when he looked at her. “Today is the festival…”

      Jasmine’s giggles caught her completely by surprise. Tariq tried to frown her into submission. When that didn’t work, he kissed her until she was boneless.

      “As I was saying, it is the festival of the virgins.” He kissed the side of her neck. “If you’d arrived a few weeks later, you could have joined it. No, that’s a lie. You would not have remained a virgin long enough. I almost took you in the car as it was.”

      “Stop that,” she ordered.

      “What?”

      “Making me crazy.”

      “I like making you crazy.” Satisfaction simmered in those green depths when she shivered under his stroking. His lips curved into a grin.

      Jasmine didn’t know what to do with him in this mood. In the end, she decided that the safest option was to ignore the gleam in his eye and bask in his attention.

      “So tell me.” She traced a design over his chest with her fingertip, enjoying touching him through the fine linen. Tariq had never once curtailed her sensual explorations after she’d shown him just how much she adored his body.

      “It’s a day when female virgins of a certain age make a pilgrimage to a sacred place.”

      “Where?”

      He looked chagrined at her question. “No man knows.”

      Her interest was piqued. “Really?” At his nod she asked, “How old is this festival?”

      “As old as Zulheil.”

      “And why couldn’t I go outside?”

      Tariq pressed his forehead to hers and spoke against her mouth. “If you would let me finish, Mina, I will tell you.”

      Jasmine pursed her lips and slanted him an encouraging look. He continued to speak against her mouth, lips on lips, sorely tempting her to open up.

      “I do not know what they do and that is probably just as well. No man is allowed on the streets at the time.”

      Jasmine frowned, the question stuck at the back of her throat. Tariq read her mind.

      “Patience, little hellcat. There is no danger because the married women go with them, including the policewomen.”

      She couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “Policewomen? Zulheil allows its women such occupations?” Once more, the way the people of Zulheil guarded their privacy so zealously left her feeling at a loss. She had so much to learn. And a lifetime in which to learn it, she reminded herself, ignoring the dart of fear that threatened to ruin the moment. Tariq would trust her again and wouldn’t denounce her when he discovered her illegitimacy. Maybe, her heart whispered, if she wanted his trust, she should begin by giving him hers?

      “I