скачать книгу бесплатно
“Cover yourself.”
She had lost.
There was nothing left, she thought, refusing to cry in front of him.
Kateb stepped into the hall. Not knowing what else to do, she followed him. He stopped in front of Dean.
“Your daughter has agreed to be my mistress for six months. I will take her into the desert with me until the time is up. Then she may return. You will leave El Deharia on the first flight out in the morning. You are never to step foot in this country again. If you do, you will be shot on sight. Do I make myself clear?”
For the second time that night Victoria had trouble maintaining her balance. He was accepting? Her father wouldn’t go to jail?
Momentary relief was followed by the realization that she’d, in essence, sold herself to a man she didn’t know and who obviously thought very little of her.
The guard released her father. Dean grabbed Kateb’s hand and shook it. “Of course. Of course. Good of you to see it was all a misunderstanding.” He turned to Victoria and actually smiled at her. “I guess I need to be going. That’s all right. I have business back home. Places to go. People to see.”
Victoria wasn’t even surprised. It was as if he hadn’t heard anything except he was free to go. Nothing else mattered.
Kateb glared at him. “Did you not hear me? I’m keeping your daughter.”
Dean struggled. “She’s a pretty girl.”
Victoria felt Kateb’s fury. As a man of the desert, he would hold the protection of his family above all. That a father could give up his daughter to save himself was beyond anything he could imagine.
She quickly stepped between them. She turned her back on her father and stared into Kateb’s angry, dark eyes.
“He’s not worth it,” she whispered. “Have the guards take him away.”
“No tender goodbyes?” he asked cynically.
“What would you have to say to him if you were me?”
Kateb nodded. “Very well. Escort Mr. McCallan to his room. Guard him while he packs his things, then take him to the airport.”
Victoria turned and watched her father being led away. When he reached the corner, he glanced back and waved. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Vi. Call me when you’re back home.”
She ignored him.
Then she and the prince of the desert were alone.
“We will also leave in the morning,” he told her. “Be ready by ten.”
There was an odd taste in her mouth. She supposed it was a combination of fear and apprehension.
“What should I bring?” she asked.
“Whatever you like. You will be with me for six months.”
She wanted him to tell her that it would be all right. That he wasn’t horrible and the time would go quickly. But she was nothing to him. Why would he offer comfort?
“You may return to your room,” he told her.
She nodded and went in the opposite direction of the guards and her father. The walk to the elevator would be longer, but she wouldn’t have to worry about running into them.
She had gone halfway down the hall when Kateb called to her.
She looked over her shoulder.
“The promise?” he asked. “Was he worth it?”
“Not to me,” she admitted. “But he was to her.”
Victoria had worried she might have trouble being ready on time, but it turned out not to be an issue. The whole not-sleeping thing really helped with time management, she thought as she checked her drawers one last time. There was nothing like a run-in with a guard and a prince, not to mention the worry of being a stranger’s mistress, to keep one tense and awake. Now if only the stress took away her appetite, she could finally lose ten pounds.
She’d had no idea what to pack for six months in the desert. Nor did she know what would happen when her time with Kateb was finished. She knew she wouldn’t have a job to return to. Nadim wasn’t the type to hold the position open, assuming he would be interested in Kateb’s former mistress as office staff. No doubt Nadim would replace her quickly and then forget she’d ever worked for him.
To think she’d spent two years trying to get her boss to notice her. Not that she’d ever been in love with him, or even sure she’d liked him. From what she’d seen, he’d been a little lacking in the personality department. But he’d represented safety and security and after the way she’d grown up, both were very appealing.
Now she had neither, she thought as she sealed the last of the boxes she was leaving behind, then pushed away the fear that made it difficult to breathe. It was only six months. Then she would return to the United States and start over. She had her savings. She would start a business of some kind, make a life. She was resourceful.
At exactly 9:58 a.m., she heard people in the hallway. She’d already sorted her luggage—the suitcases held what she would bring into the desert and the boxes contained everything else. There was an impressive pile of both. She’d accumulated a lot in the past two years.
There was a sharp knock, then Kateb swept into the room.
There was no other way to describe his appearance. He moved quickly, confidently, with a masculine grace that spoke of a man comfortable in any situation. She’d thought he might wear traditional robes for their travel but instead he had on jeans, boots and a long-sleeved shirt. If not for the air of imperial arrogance, he could almost pass for a regular kind of guy—a very handsome regular guy with that wicked scar and dark eyes that made her wonder if he could see right into her.
“You are ready?” he asked.
She motioned to the boxes and closed suitcases. “No. I just stacked these here for show.”
One eyebrow raised.
Okay. Perhaps snarky humor wasn’t his thing. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m nervous. Yes, I’m ready.”
“You did not try to escape in the night.”
She noticed the use of the word try. As in “you can try, but you will fail.”
“I gave my word,” she said, then held up her hand. “Don’t say anything bad, please. My word has value. I don’t expect you to believe that, but it’s true.”
“Because your father’s does not?”
“I know, I know. Classic psychological response to living with a chronic liar. Can we go now?”
The other eyebrow went up. Note to self: Prince Kateb didn’t like snarky humor or someone else making the rules. Neither was especially good news, she thought.
Kateb said something she couldn’t hear and several men crowded into her quarters. They reached for the luggage and the boxes.
“I’m taking those with me,” she said, indicating the bags. “The boxes will be stored.” She gave the floor and room number of where they should be taken.
Kateb nodded, as if his permission were required for them to do as she said. And it probably was.
“Is there electricity where we’re going?” she asked. “I brought my curling iron.” Not to mention her blow-dryer, her iPod and her cell-phone charger. She wasn’t sure about cell service out in the desert, but she would want to charge it before she returned to the city.
“Once we arrive, you will have everything that you need,” he told her.
Which, she noted, wasn’t exactly a yes. “I’m guessing we have different ideas about what I need. You are unlikely to see the importance of a curling iron.”
His gaze moved to her hair, which she’d pulled back in a ponytail for the trip. But she’d still curled the ends. She might be going to the girlfriend equivalent of prison, but she would look good on the way.
“We will leave now,” he told her.
She followed him out of the room and into the corridor. There was no one to see her off. Her friend, Maggie, was on a trip with her fiancé, Prince Oadir—Kateb’s brother. Victoria had left a note explaining she would be gone for a while. After two years in El Deharia, she didn’t have any friends back home who would notice she’d disappeared for a few months, and she certainly wasn’t going to be in touch with her father. It was, she thought sadly, a very lonely feeling.
They walked through the palace, heading for the back. When they stepped outside Victoria saw several large trucks in the rear courtyard.
“I don’t have that much luggage,” she said, wondering what they were for.
“We are taking supplies,” Kateb told her. “The desert people trade for what they need. You will travel with me.” He pointed to a Land Rover parked on the side.
“The SUV of kings,” she murmured. Didn’t the British royal family also use Land Rovers? But she didn’t ask. Speaking suddenly seemed difficult. Despite the bright sun and warm temperature, her body felt stiff and cold. The closer she got to the SUV, the harder it was to move. Fear clawed at her throat. Panic made her stomach clench.
She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t go out in the desert with a man she didn’t know. What was going to happen? How horrible was it going to be? Her father didn’t deserve her sacrifice, she thought bitterly. He certainly didn’t appreciate it.
But she hadn’t done it for her father, she reminded herself.
“Victoria?”
A guard held open the passenger door. She sucked in a steadying breath and slid onto the smooth leather. The car door closed next to her. The sound seemed unnaturally loud—as if she’d just been cut off from everything safe and good.
Her luggage had already been loaded into one of the trucks. She was the only woman in a sea of workers and guards and drivers. There was no one to appeal to, no one to protect her. She was truly on her own.
Kateb drove the familiar road into the desert. For the first day, they would see signs of villages and small towns but by this time tomorrow, all civilization would have been left behind.
Victoria was mercifully silent. After a restless night, he wasn’t in the mood for inane conversation. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have blamed her for his lack of sleep, but he’d spent the hours of darkness tossing and turning in his bed, trying not to think about her. An impossible task, given that he’d seen her nearly naked the day before.
It was as if the image of her body were imprinted on his brain. He didn’t have to close his eyes to see her pale skin and full breasts. The vision taunted him, reminding him how long it had been since he’d been with a woman. And the wanting made him angry.
He knew the anger was more about himself than her, but she was easy to blame. If he’d had less self-control, he would have pulled over and taken her right there, on the front seat, the men with them be damned. But he wouldn’t. Not only because he would never force her or put on a show for his men, but because the need was too specific. He wanted Victoria, not a faceless woman to satisfy himself, and that bothered him.
It had been five years since Cantara had died. Five years during which he’d mourned her loss. There had been times when desire had driven him to someone’s bed, but those brief hours had been about physical need. The woman herself had been a means to an end. Nothing more. He refused to have Victoria be different.
She was nothing like Cantara. His beautiful wife had been desert born, a laughing, dark-haired beauty. They’d grown up together. He’d known everything about her. There had been no surprises, no mysteries, and he preferred that. She had understood him, his position, his destiny. She had been proud, but never assumed they were equals. She had been his wife and that had been enough for her.
He glanced at Victoria, taking in the perfect profile, the fullness of her mouth. This woman would not be content to be anything but a man’s true match, he thought. She would expect her opinion to matter. She would want to talk about everything. Her feelings, her plans, her life. It was more than a prince should have to bear. She would—
He glanced at her again and noticed the slight tremor in her cheek. As if her teeth had been tightly clenched for some time. She was pale and had her hands tightly clasped. He caught it then, the bitter scent.
Fear.
The knowledge made him weary. He was not cruel enough to allow her to terrorize herself with her concerns.
“Nothing will happen until we arrive at the village,” he said sharply.
Her breath caught. He felt her glance at him. “H-how long will that take?”
“Three days. Very few people know the place. It’s beautiful, at least I find it so. Like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
He hoped she wouldn’t ask what would happen when they did finally arrive. He had no answer for that. He had taken her because she had offered herself in exchange for her father and the desert law respected a noble sacrifice. But to what end? Did he really plan to take her for his mistress?
He looked at her again. She wore jeans and ridiculous boots with high heels. The shirt was made of some clingy fabric that seemed to hug her breasts. He forced himself to return his attention to the road.
He found her attractive and would enjoy her in his bed, but he was reluctant to commit to longer than a single night. Which meant he was going to have to find something else for Victoria to do.
“I, uh, thought the people of the desert were nomadic,” she said.
“Many are, but many also enjoy life in the desert and do not feel compelled to move from camp to camp. The village provides the best of both worlds.”
“I hope I brought enough sunscreen,” she murmured.
“We will send for more if you did not,” he told her.
“So you don’t plan to stake me out in the sun and let the ants eat me alive?”
“This is not the Old West,” said Kateb, bemused.
“I know, but it’s still a pretty gruesome punishment. Hanging would be faster.”
“There is less opportunity for a rescue with a hanging.”
“Good point.”
The fear had faded. Now he could smell her perfume, or maybe just the scent of her body. Either way it pleased him and in being pleased, he was annoyed.
Kateb sighed. It was going to be a long six months.
They made two brief stops for water and bathroom breaks. Victoria was thrilled they used something very close to a rest area, although she had a bad feeling the amenities were going to get worse before they got better.
Just before sunset they stopped for the night and made camp. Several tents were put up along with what looked like sleeping bags and bedrolls. Two men went to work over a large camp stove while another set up something that looked suspiciously like a gas barbecue.
Kateb came up beside her. “You look concerned. Are the facilities not to your liking?”
She guessed he was seeking information rather than offering to change anything on her behalf. She pointed at the stove. “I thought there would be an open fire and we’d be cooking food on sticks.”
That single eyebrow raised again. “Where would we get fuel for the fire?”
She glanced around at the campsite. They’d backed in the trucks, butting them up against a cliff. There were a few sad-looking shrubs, but nothing that could pass for logs or even sticks.
“True.”
