скачать книгу бесплатно
‘My match.’ He held out his hand as protocol dictated. ‘So, having slain the dragon, I presume I’ve now won the right to protect the princess. Perhaps you would introduce me so that I can be given my next challenge? Pistols at dawn, perhaps? Remove your mask. I deserve to see the face of the man I just fought.’
His opponent hesitated, and then dragged off the mask. ‘Not a man.’ She spoke in a warm, husky voice designed by mother nature to bring the entire opposite sex to its knees, and Karim inhaled sharply as a mass of golden, coppery hair tumbled over narrow shoulders. Even though he knew the dangers that often lurked behind extreme physical beauty, he was blinded.
Observing his reaction with wry amusement, she held out a slender hand and spoke again. This time her voice was soft, as if she were afraid of being overheard. ‘I’m Princess Alexandra. And you’re supposed to be my bodyguard. The problem is, I don’t actually want a bodyguard. You weren’t supposed to win the match. I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey.’
She’d lost!
Desperately hoping that he couldn’t see how much her legs were shaking, Alexa watched incredulity flicker across his handsome face as he acknowledged her identity. And he was handsome, she conceded as she brushed her damp hair away from her flushed cheeks. Handsome and strong.
She’d felt the power in his body as he’d fought with what could only be described as restrained masculine aggression. And she sensed that he’d been far from reaching the limits of his capabilities. His broad shoulders and muscular physique suggested that fencing was only one of many activities that he enjoyed in his pursuit of a physical challenge.
She should have picked a different sport.
And now he was watching her intently, his dark gaze arrogant and assured as he slowly loosened the fastening at the neck of his jacket to reveal a tantalizing hint of bronzed skin, shiny with the sweat of physical exertion. His eyes demanded that she look only at him, as if he were determined to read everything about her in one searing glance.
Trapped by the force of his bold gaze, Alexa felt something dangerous and unfamiliar flicker to life, and then a hot, instantaneous explosion of sexual awareness engulfed her. Her body burned and melted, and the feeling was deeply shocking because, although she was accustomed to being on the receiving end of male attention, she was not accustomed to responding.
Her knees weakened by the fire in her pelvis, she nevertheless forced herself to hold his gaze, waiting for him to back down and display the deference and respect that she knew was due to her.
He was a bodyguard.
She was a royal princess. Despite her less-than-enviable position in the royal household, she was accustomed to being greeted with the appropriate formality by strangers, but this man clearly wasn’t daunted or in any way impressed by her title or position. Instead he held himself tall and proud, his posture one of authority and command, as if he was used to giving orders and being instantly obeyed.
Clearly, he was someone extremely senior in the Sultan’s security team, Alexa mused as her eyes trailed from his almost-perfect bone structure to the firm, sensual curve of his mouth. Powerful, she thought. If she had to find one word to describe the man in front of her, then it would be powerful, and she felt her stomach lurch. When the Sultan had promised a bodyguard to escort her on the journey, she’d expected someone who would follow orders.
This man didn’t look as though he’d ever followed an order in his life.
Which made the situation extremely awkward. She didn’t want him as her bodyguard. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust anyone. Whatever happened, she had to be in charge of her own safety; it was the only way she would ever escape from the tangled mess of her life.
She couldn’t believe that this moment had arrived—that she’d actually survived this far. Her brain fluttered around the edges of panic, as it always did when she considered her impending marriage to the Sultan of Zangrar.
It wasn’t that she was afraid of him. She wasn’t. Having lived the life she’d lived for the past sixteen years, she no longer cared that he was reputed to be ruthless, controlling and totally devoid of emotion. In a way, it actually helped, knowing that he didn’t have a sensitive side, because she didn’t have to feel guilty about forcing him into a marriage that was so lacking in romance.
There was no escaping from the fact that, in normal circumstances, this marriage would be the last thing she wanted. But her circumstances weren’t normal, and this marriage wasn’t about what was best for her, it was about what was best for Rovina.
Her hand tightened on the hilt of the sabre. She’d reviewed her options so many times that her brain felt raw with thinking, and no matter how often she circled round the issue she always ended up at the same place.
The future of Rovina depended on her marriage to the Sultan.
And now that goal was finally within reach.
Only a journey now stood between her and Zangrar.
But it would be a hazardous journey, and she would need to have her wits about her. Ironic though it seemed, the last thing she wanted was a bodyguard. Having him there would simply put her life at greater risk.
A giggle from the women watching reminded her that they were becoming the subject of scrutiny and gossip, and Alexa smiled, reminding herself that she had an image to keep up: the image of a woman with nothing more serious on her mind except the pursuit of frivolous pleasures.
‘You can go home, bodyguard.’ She removed the glove from her fencing hand and spoke softly so that only he could hear. ‘I don’t need your protection.’ Her words provoked a sharp intake of breath from the man standing in front of her.
‘My protection is not optional.’ His dark eyes glinted dangerously as he studied her face. ‘You and I need to speak alone. Now.’
Startled by his autocratic tone, Alexa opened her mouth to refuse, but he closed long, strong fingers around her wrist and propelled her bodily towards the ante-room where the fencing equipment was stored, apparently indifferent to the curious stares of those watching.
He’d been fighting a woman?
Tension erupting inside him, Karim released her and slammed the door to the ante-room shut with the flat of his hand, his eyes fixed on the cascading mass of soft, silky curls that poured down her back. Her hair was the colour of a desert sunset. And that first glance into her eyes had been like throwing himself onto a burning spear. His body had been consumed by the most basic of sexual urges, the chemistry between them so hot and instantaneous that for a moment he’d been able to think only of sex.
‘Unlock the door.’ Apparently unaware of his response to her, she gave the order sharply, a note of panic in her voice. ‘Unlock it now.’
‘I take orders only from the Sultan himself.’
‘Please …’ Her face had lost most of its colour, and he frowned.
‘You have just faced my blade without showing the slightest consideration for your personal safety,’ he drawled softly. ‘And yet you expect me to believe that you’re afraid of a locked door?’
‘Just open it,’ she said in a hoarse voice. ‘Please open it.’
Perplexed and exasperated in equal measure, Karim turned the key, watching as she relaxed. The rebel princess was afraid of a locked door? It was so incredibly unlikely that he almost laughed. If she was that easy to frighten then it should take very little to persuade her that life in the harsh climate of Zangrar, in the company of a ruthless Sultan, was definitely not for her.
‘I don’t fight women, Your Highness.’
She stilled and then gave a tiny shrug, some of her defiance returning. ‘You do now.’ With a single, graceful movement of her shoulders, she removed her jacket. ‘And, anyway, you won. Your ego is still intact.’
‘My ego requires no protection.’ He dragged his eyes away from her hair with difficulty, his brain and body fighting a vicious battle for supremacy. Intellect warred with basic masculine instinct, and the sudden tightening of his body reminded him that the power of basic masculine instinct was never to be underestimated. ‘I could have hurt you.’
Only now, when she stood without the thick, protective padding of the fencing jacket, could he see how fine-boned and delicately built she was. Her exquisitely perfect face revealed centuries of breeding, and Karim studied her closely, trying to reconcile the innocence of that face with her debauched reputation. And she studied him back, her gaze fearless and unfaltering.
Then she turned and hung her jacket in the cupboard. ‘You’re good. But you’ve had a wasted journey. I don’t want a bodyguard.’
‘Your wishes in the matter are irrelevant, Your Highness.’ Whether she wanted him or not, she was getting him. His mission was to persuade her to change her mind about marrying the Sultan, and he needed to be with her on the journey if he was to achieve that goal.
Her glance was curious. ‘Do you guard the Sultan himself?’
It wasn’t a question he’d anticipated, and it took him a moment to formulate an acceptable answer. ‘I have ultimate responsibility for the Sultan’s safety, yes.’
‘In that case, I’m sure he’s missing you. Go home.’ With a swift movement of her fingers, she removed the plastron, the half-jacket that protected her fencing arm. ‘Use your talents elsewhere. I don’t need them.’
‘You are no longer planning to marry the Sultan?’
‘Of course I’m marrying the Sultan. But I don’t need anyone with me on the journey. I prefer to arrange my own protection.’
‘And who have you selected to provide this service?’
‘Me.’ Her tone suggested that she considered the answer obvious. ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that, when it comes to safety issues, the only person you can really depend on is yourself.’
‘You plan to travel through the desert alone and unaccompanied?’
‘Absolutely. And I hope no one threatens me, because I’m lethal when I’m threatened.’ As if determined to convince him of that fact, she fixed him with her cool, blue stare, and Karim lifted an eyebrow.
‘Clearly you are unaware of the fact that many men find a woman’s vulnerability to be one of her greatest charms.’
‘Those same men undoubtedly have miniscule egos and need to slay dragons in order to demonstrate their masculinity.’ She stooped to put her mask and glove in the cupboard. ‘I refuse to put my safety at risk in order to pander to a man’s need to flex his muscles in public. I slay my own dragons.’
For the first time in his adult life, Karim found himself speechless. He’d never met a woman like her before. ‘You cannot seriously be intending to make the journey to Zangrar alone? You have no knowledge of the route.’
‘I can read a map, use satellite navigation and I can talk on the phone. Princesses have a multitude of skills these days. We’re a very versatile breed. Haven’t you heard?’
What he’d heard was that the Princess Alexandra was a real rebel, and he could see that the rumours had foundation. There was a fire in her eyes and defiance in her stance, and even after five minutes in her company he could see that she was no man’s idea of a gentle, compliant wife.
She was a handful.
Even while contemplating the disaster that would ensue if this woman ever arrived in Zangrar, Karim was reflecting on the fact that this next battle between them might be every bit as stimulating as the fencing. Removing his own jacket, he stretched out a hand and dropped it onto the nearest chair. ‘Clearly you’ve never aspired to be like the princesses in the fairy stories.’
‘Passive victims, you mean?’ A thoughtful frown touched her forehead and then she gave a careless shrug. ‘I wouldn’t be stupid enough to take a poisoned apple from a stepmother who hates me, and I’ve always hated sewing, so there’s no way I’d prick my finger on a spinning wheel.’
‘But you are planning to marry a sultan,’ Karim pointed out silkily, and she smiled, showing no signs of trepidation at the prospect.
‘That’s right. I am.’
‘And the Sultan insists that you are escorted on the journey, Your Highness.’
The princess turned to face him, and their eyes locked in a battle of wills.
Supremely confident that there was only one possible outcome, Karim crossed his arms and waited.
And waited.
‘Fine.’ Her gaze slid from his, and she toed off her fencing shoes with a graceful movement. ‘If you want to come along then I suppose I can’t stop you. I just hope you don’t regret it. Who is guarding the Sultan while you are watching over me?’
Surprised by the speed with which success had been achieved, Karim felt a flash of suspicion. What was she up to? ‘His Excellency is presently on an important and most secret mission that relates to the future stability of Zangrar. His security is being handled—elsewhere.’
She put her shoes in the cupboard. ‘You haven’t told me your name.’
Distracted by the thrust of her breasts under the simple white tee-shirt, it took him a moment to answer. ‘You may call me Karim, Your Highness.’
‘And you may call me Alexa. I’m not big on protocol.’
Remembering everything he’d read about her lifestyle, Karim had little trouble believing that statement. ‘It would not be appropriate for me to call you by your first name.’
‘You weren’t worrying about what was appropriate when you dragged me into this room.’ Her gaze was speculative.
‘Clearly you’re a man accustomed to acting on your own initiative.’
‘You want a bodyguard who waits for permission before saving you?’
‘I don’t want a bodyguard at all.’ Tucking the last of her clothes into the cupboard, she slammed the door shut. ‘If there’s any saving to be done, then I prefer to do it myself. Let’s get that straight before we leave this room.’
Karim clenched his jaw in order to refrain from pointing out that the only thing she needed saving from was herself. Only the month before she’d been removed unconscious from a nightclub, and he knew that she’d had at least two car crashes and a boating accident in the past year, and from all of them she’d narrowly escaped with her life. The Princess Alexandra was clearly as reckless as she was bold.
‘The desert is full of dangers, many of which are concealed from all but those who were born and bred there.’
‘I have lived with danger all my life. I have a question for you, Karim.’ Without glancing in his direction, she slipped on a slim-fitting jumper in a deep shade of green. She still wore her fencing breeches, and he saw that her legs were long and slim.
‘Ask your question.’
‘How do you feel about the Sultan? Would you die for him?’
Karim reflected on the irony of that question. ‘Without a doubt.’
Scooping up her hair, she pinned it haphazardly on top of her head, disregarding the fact that several strands immediately escaped and tumbled down around her face. ‘And just how much do you know about my country, Karim?’
With perfect recall, Karim summarized the briefing he’d received. ‘Rovina is a small principality ruled by your uncle, the Regent, who has been in power since your parents were killed in an accident. You were the only heir, and too young to ascend the throne.’ He saw darkness flicker across her beautiful face, and wondered briefly whether that tragic event had been responsible for her wild behaviour. Without the guiding hand of a father, had she gone off the rails? ‘Your late father and the Sultan’s late father were friends, and made the agreement for you and the present sultan to wed when you reached the age of twenty-four. Your birthday is in four days.’ Was it his imagination or was her breathing suddenly more rapid?
‘You’ve done your homework.’
‘One year after that, on the day of your twenty-fifth birthday, you will be crowned Queen of Rovina. Knowing that, I am intrigued as to why you would wish to move to a different continent and marry a man you’ve never even met, and whose culture and beliefs are so different from your own.’ If he talked her out of the marriage now, he could save himself an arduous journey with a woman who was undoubtedly going to whine and moan her way across the baking desert, a climate not known for nurturing patience in those who experienced it.
‘You don’t think I should marry the Sultan?’
‘On the contrary.’ Karim issued the denial smoothly. ‘I’m sure a marriage between you would be a great success. Your Highness is clearly both brave and bold, and you will need both qualities in abundance if you are to tame our sultan.’
‘Tame?’
‘I once heard a woman remark that the Sultan of Zangrar resembles a tiger who has been taken from the wild and forced to live in captivity.’ Satisfied that he had her attention, Karim delivered what he hoped passed for a sympathetic smile. ‘The woman who eventually shares his cage would have to be particularly courageous.’
Alexa laughed. ‘If you’re trying to frighten me, Karim, then you’ve picked the wrong woman.’
‘I’m not trying to frighten you,’ he lied, concealing his surprise at her laughter. ‘On the contrary, the more I see of you, the greater my conviction that you are a match for the Sultan even in one of his most dangerous moods. I just wanted to be sure that you know your own mind. If you wish to back out of the agreement, then you may do so.’
‘I don’t wish that.’
As he stared into her wide, blue eyes he felt another powerful tug of chemistry followed by a vicious tightening in his groin as white-hot lust shot through him. He wondered whether it was too soon to inform her that there was only one way the Sultan would ever want her—and that was flat on her back, naked and without the wedding ring. ‘Clearly, there is no place for love or romance in your life.’
Her beautiful blue eyes shone with genuine amusement. ‘Are you telling me that you believe in love, Karim? Are you a romantic man?’
‘This conversation is not about me.’
‘Judging from your tone, I’ve touched on a sensitive subject.’ She studied him in silence for a moment and then paced over to the window, her eyes flickering to the palace grounds. ‘I’m not pretending this marriage has anything to do with love, because we both know that it doesn’t …’ Her words tailed off and she frowned, as if surprised at herself. ‘Why am I telling you this? My reasons for wishing to marry the Sultan are not your concern. Your brief is simply to escort me safely to Zangrar.’
Karim wondered what she would say if she knew that his brief was a great deal more complex than that. The Princess Alexandra was the only one who could break this ridiculous agreement, and it was his personal responsibility to ensure that she did exactly that.
She was not a suitable wife for a sultan.
Her motive for the wedding was clearly greed, and the fact that greed alone was sufficient to compel her to marry a man of whom she knew nothing, sickened him. A woman like her would do untold damage to Zangrar, and threaten the enormous progress they had already made.
Clearly unaware that Karim’s own objective was in direct conflict with hers, Alexa paced back and forth across the room, her eyes on the door as if she expected to be disturbed at any moment. ‘So, if you insist on traveling with me, then you’d better tell me your plans for the journey.’
‘We leave at dawn. The Sultan’s private jet is waiting at the airport.’
