His Arranged Marriage (6 page)

“Yes, Your Highness. My son was unwilling to consummate the relationship under false pretenses, nor did he feel that dancing to the tune of a palace spy and pretender suited him. He would honor your daughter by giving her the time she needs to fall in love with him, to trust him, and more importantly, to be happy married to him.”

“Very unusual for a young man to restrain himself from a bounty when it is laid before him,” King Zak observed.

A soft laugh escaped Rose. “There is much gnashing of teeth and wearing of pride at The Desert Rose right now, Your Highness.”

“So they do like each other?” he asked, his tone husky.

“Yes. Very much so, it seems. Enough to want the other to be happy. I would say that it is a very good start.”

“I remember the feeling of wearing my pride and gnashing my teeth,” King Zak said thoughtfully.

“As do I,” Rose said, her voice wistful.

“Falling in love is a beautiful thing, my lady.”

“Yes.” She could hardly speak for the pain of remembering just how beautiful it had been for her—before her whole life had been ripped from her by Layla. “I would give this gift to our children, if we can, Zakariyya.”

“I think you are right,” he suddenly said, his tone authoritative once again. “I am intrigued by your suggestion, and will accept an offer of one Desert Rose foal to make reparation for the pride your son’s conduct has cost me.”

“You are more than generous, King Zak.”

“How many were you going to offer me?”

Rose smiled. “The very best next three The Desert Rose produced.”

“You got off lightly,” the king said. “Shrewdness is appealing in a woman, for when her beauty fades, she still has that attribute left to her. I will be anxiously awaiting an update in one week’s time. If I do not hear from you, I will come for my daughter myself. This will cause me bad humor. And two weeks’ time is all I can allot for the prince and princess to do more than posture and crow at each other. Surely that is long enough for a man to know his own mind. Tell Prince Kadar I am displeased that he deceived me. Tell him that I will cut off his hand
if he compromises my daughter before she decides she will be his. Tell him the Balahar royalty does not need to send to Texas for a stud—we have plenty of young men here who would pay handsomely to wed my daughter. A man who comes in and steals my daughter out from under my nose in the cover of night in his jet should be good for a couple of grandchildren—er, royal heirs.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Rose said, knowing that the pompous tone covered his pleasure with the situation.

“I will send you some pictures of the wedding. It was a small, impromptu affair, of course, but you will enjoy seeing the two of them in royal wedding attire.”

“Yes, I will. Thank you. Your kindness is more than I deserve.”

“Your time away from court has taken nothing from the sweet manner with which you are trying to assuage me, Rose. I can see why your husband found you to be such a fit mate, and no doubt an excellent queen.”

“Thank you,” she said, surprised by the compliment.

“Wisdom, diplomacy and a loving spirit are rare in a woman,” the king said quietly. “I miss them.”

Whatever gift she had with words flew out the window at his bereft words.

“I will await your phone call,” he suddenly com
manded. “Do not make me wait for word of progress. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” she murmured, knowing he had already hung up the phone.

“Serena, wait!”

The urgent, angry call of Cade’s came to her, despite the canter she had set the horse to. Hearing hoofbeats behind her, she encouraged Texas Heat into a gallop toward lush, green pastureland. Texas Heat sensed Dakar behind him, and his proud spirit refused to let himself be caught. Determined to win at all costs, he galloped hard and true. Serena laughed. “Go, go, go!” she urged him.

Seeing a creek winding up ahead, she wondered how Texas Heat would react to the change in landscape. Until now, she had been content to give him his head, knowing that his winner’s spirit was operating in full. A body of water changed matters, however; she dared not risk injuring an excellent horse by asking it to cross water if it wasn’t used to doing so. This horse was used for show purposes and for stud, and maybe had rarely seen a creek. She would have to accept that here the race finished,
Serena realized; here she would have to face an angry prince.

Just as she prepared to command the horse to slow, powerful muscles beneath her saddle tensed, launched and carried her over the creek. She gasped, aware that the horse had known to jump the creek at a narrow pass, as the hooves landed neatly on gray clay, never missing more than a beat as Texas Heat continued his eager quest for the crown of champion.

“Serena!” Cade barked.

She glanced back to see that Dakar had jumped the creek at the same place. “You are going to get winded, my mighty warrior,” she told the horse. “We have made our point and won the trophy, so please, allow the sore losers to catch up with us. We must not injure their pride altogether.”

Bit by bit, Texas Heat slowed to a joyous gallop, then to a canter for a few hundred feet, and then to a reluctant yet showy prancing walk, as if to say, “Ha! Did you enjoy my long tail waving at you like a banner you couldn’t catch!”

“You could have hurt yourself!” Cade told her, coming alongside her horse. “Not to mention Texas Heat!”

“Your champion is fine. Thirsty, but fine. Let me cool him down before you allow your hot head to tell me off.” Slowly she turned to take Texas Heat in a wide circle, once, twice, three times. Then she
slid from his back and, pulling the reins over his head so that she could hold them, walked him to the creek so he could drink. She didn’t let him drink too much, just enough to slake the dryness from his mouth, then led him to a tree where she looped the reins around a branch. “Graze if you will, mighty warrior,” she told him. “You deserve it.”

She caught begrudging admiration in Cade’s eyes before he turned Dakar, mimicking her actions before choosing a tree far enough away from Texas Heat that there would be no trouble. The horses were too tired to be competitive right now, but they were healthy and would rally back all too soon. Seating herself on a flat patch of grass beside the creek, she waited for her prince’s hot words to flow over her.

And no doubt they would, she thought, watching him stride toward her. Wearing jeans that melded to strong thighs, boots that gave him an appearance of strength, and a denim shirt open to mid-chest, she had to admit that he wasn’t the robed sheikh prince of her dreams. But he
was
sexily handsome.

“Cowgirl,” she told him as he stood beside her, not deigning to sit in order that he might show her his temper.

“What?”

“I believe it is more fun to be a cowgirl than a princess.” She glanced up at him with teasing eyes, pushing a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. “Isn’t that what you and your brother were discuss
ing—whether I could be happy at The Desert Rose?”

He’d gotten so lost in the combat of the race, he’d forgotten what had set it off in the first place, Serena realized with a smile.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now,” he instructed impatiently. “I want to discuss some basic ranch rules. I had to learn some rules when I was at your palace—namely, don’t drink anything handed me by palace servants, and censor my words in case I might be overheard. Here the survival skills are different, Princess. I don’t want you riding the stallions.”

Serena’s eyes went wide. “Were you not proud of my riding skill, my prince?”

“I was. I want to see a helluva lot less of it.”

She frowned at his growl. “As you wish.” Getting to her feet, she pulled off the boots Jessica had lent her, and rolled up the borrowed jeans as close to her knees as she could manage with their narrow cut. Stuffing her socks down into the boots, she hurled them across the creek to land in the soft grass before wading into the creek at approximately the point where Texas Heat had jumped.

“What are you doing?”

“I am returning to the house,” Serena replied, not bothering to look back.

“Serena!”

Now she did turn. “Yes?”

“You will not leave in some princessy snit. We are here because of you, and so you will not run away from me again. I am not in the mood to chase you.”

“I am not in the mood to be chased, so I am glad we can agree on this matter, my prince.” Without another word, she walked into the water up to her hips. “Are there snakes in this water?”

“Not that I have seen. Come back here at once.”

“I will not. You are standing in a bed of something your mother instructed me as necessary to be avoided, and you will be soon joining me, if she is as wise as I believe she is.”

He glanced down at his boots, suddenly realizing he was standing in a bed of fire ants. “Damn it!” he shouted, hopping to jerk his boots off and tossing them aside. “Damn it!” he exclaimed again before managing an impressive leap into the water.

“Your mother was right,” Serena said with a grin after the splash subsided.

He narrowed his eyes at her, working furiously at his jeans legs to make certain the ants had not crawled up farther than he anticipated. “You would not be laughing if you had gotten stung.”

“I was not so foolish as to stand on dangerous ground,” she rejoined, moving to a deeper part of the creek so that she could sink into it up to her neck. “This feels wonderful,” she said on a sigh. “Just like the indoor pools of the palace.”

She felt his eyes upon her, white-hot with interest and male perusal. Ever so innocently, she ducked under the water, coming up with her hair slicked behind her and her gaze meeting his with feminine allure. “So,” she said softly, “you do not think me capable of riding a stallion? You would give me a tamer mount?”

His denim shirt was wet and outlined strong muscles of a chest and torso as well defined as any soldier’s in her father’s army. Serena admitted to herself that she had never seen a male like Prince Kadar. He stood still, like a master-carved statue, watching her in a hawklike manner. She shivered, enjoying the sensation of being his prey.

He is my husband. He could possess me whenever he wished.

She shivered again, harder, and lowered her gaze.

“I would not give you a tamer mount. I would give you one that suits your needs, and which I could trust to bear someone whom I would not care to see injured.”

Her gaze flew upward to meet his glowing eyes.

Even the water stilled between them as they stared at each other, measuring. Gauging the moment, the intensity, the level of their relationship.

I want him to want me,
Serena thought to herself.
As a man wants a woman. Royalty has almost always slept alone, secluded by the crown it wears. I want more.

“Swim with me, Prince Kadar,” she asked softly. “I would enjoy you teaching me the many things your mother has not yet had time to tell me about The Desert Rose.”

His gaze stayed on hers for a moment. She stayed under water to her neck, keeping the invitation as sexless as possible.

“You cannot hide from me,” he told her huskily.

She blinked at him.

“I know you are hiding behind a veil of sudden acquiescence.”

“Do not tear the veil from me, then, my prince, as it is a hard veil for me to wear.”

“Me, as well. I sense that you have changed the subject from stallions to my mother’s teachings to tell me that you will ride whichever of the horses you choose at any time.”

“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head at him, although her gaze did not move from his. “I will ride the mount my husband chooses for me. I am touched by his concern for my safety.”

He neared her, causing ripples to splash up between them as he clasped her to him, seating her legs around his waist. “I will not give you a tame mount, Serena. I know you would not be content with that. We have enough horses at The Desert Rose that you may choose from many which will take care of the princess I would not wish harmed.”

Leaning his forehead against hers, he gazed into
her eyes. She felt her prickly pride melt a little, and allowed her arms to ring his neck. “I wanted you to catch me,” she whispered.

“I have never ridden so hard in my life.”

A slight smile touched her lips, and then his.

“It was a prize worth the race,” he told her. “I am impressed with your seat.”

“I am glad,” she said shyly. “I was afraid you’d be angry.”

“I was. I am. I will be if you ever pull that stunt again, cowgirl.”

She leaned her cheek against his. “You have goose pimples along the back of your neck.”

“You have them on the front of your neck,” he told her, holding her back a bit so that he could examine them. “The water is too cold for you. I can’t let you catch a cold.”

“I am not cold in your arms.” She pulled away from him, floating onto her back so that the sun’s waning rays would warm her body. “But if you are cold, you do not have to swim with me.”

He grabbed her, pulling her back to him easily since the water made her lighter than ever. “You are cold,” he said on a growl in her ear. “You are not wearing a bra, and it is plain to see that you are
very
cold. Why are you not wearing anything under that shirt? Do you want the ranch hands to go nuts?”

She blushed as he locked her legs back around his waist as they had been before—only this time
there was something hard and rigid in the spot between his legs. “I could not borrow something as personal as underwear,” she confessed. “A brassiere seems quite personal to have to ask for. We left in quite a hurry, and since we were sneaking away, I packed little besides some jewels and makeup. Much more baggage would have been suspect had we been seen. So I only have one brassiere, and it is in the wash.”

His eyes went intensely dark as his gaze left her eyes, sliding to take in the hard peaks of her nipples clearly lined by the soft, wet material of her shirt.

“I do not want to disturb the ranch hands, but it would be my pleasure if you found me irresistible,” she confessed. “Perhaps I should never wear a bra.”

“I will lock you away like a princess in a tower if you do,” Cade warned. “I cannot believe you have been walking around without a bra at The Desert Rose.”

“American denim is much heavier than anything I wear in the palace. I have not been indiscreet.”

“No, you have not. I have been…blind.” He touched a palm to her breast, feeling the weight of it in his hand, outlining it with his fingers. “To have treasure like this so close by and not see it crying out to be found—” He broke off, slowly unbuttoning the top three buttons of her shirt, so that the material floated open, gaped by the water. Her breasts lay fully open to view, and Serena’s breath
caught at the expression on Cade’s face. His fingers stroked her, lightly pinched her nipples, and the hunger in his eyes grew, almost as if he were mesmerized by rare, beautiful jewels. She had seen that look on other men’s faces when they beheld the jewels of the palace—but Kadar’s hunger was all for her. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, and she gasped, holding on to the back of his head, thrilling at the feeling of his dark hair between her fingertips.
I like being a cowgirl,
she thought wildly. His other hand reached to squeeze her other breast and she moaned. Licking and kissing assailed the other nipple and she edged toward the hardness in his jeans, a siren’s cry she didn’t want to escape.

“My husband, please let us consummate our marriage. I do not think I can stand the torment of not knowing what further pleasures you can teach me!”

As if the water had turned icy cold around them, he pulled away, staring at her.

“What? What is it?” she asked.

Slowly he shook his head. He reached out again and she held completely still, thinking he meant to bring her the wild pleasure she felt when he kissed her breasts. Disappointment scored her when he began to button her shirt.

“Why have you stopped?”

He placed his lips against her forehead, withdrawing his lips just as quickly. “Let me get you home and dry you off,” he said, taking her by the hand
and leading her from the creek. “I will have Mother take you into town tomorrow for clothes, and will assign a stable boy and horse to you for your needs.”

“But I—”

Without a word, he untied and mounted Dakar. Then Cade pulled Serena up behind him.

“I can ride Texas Heat home—”

“You will not ride the stallions, please, Serena. Your father would not want his daughter hurt while she is here in Texas,” Cade commanded her in a stern voice.

“But you will have to come back to get him!”

“I will have a ranch hand drive me out so that I can ride him back. The horse will be fine.”

He circled the horse wide and then jumped at the narrow point of the creek again. Serena held on to her husband’s back, her heart in shreds.

“Will you ever consummate our marriage?” she asked as they slowly cantered home.

“That was the purpose of bedeviling me into following you, I guess,” Cade replied. “You threw out the challenge of the steed who delivered what was expected of him, and I suppose I chased you down with the notion to make you eat your words. I’m a reluctant prince, and I’m a reluctant lover right now. That’s just the way it is.”

Serena raised a disdainful eyebrow at his imperious tone, the princess in her not liking that one
little bit. She wasn’t going to argue with him, however. Sweet sugar cubes were much more likely to bring the potent, commanding stallion to her than were hot demands.