Jane Porter - The Desert Sheikh's Innocent Queen - King of the Desert, Captive Bride

“Thank you,” Khalid answered, keeping an eye on Olivia as she stood at the far end of the living room. She looked very small and vulnerable standing on her own and he found himself wishing his brother Sharif was here tonight with his American wife, Jesslyn. Although Jesslyn was now the Queen of Sarq, she was a former schoolteacher and one of the kindest, most genuine women Khalid had ever met. Jesslyn was just the sort of woman Olivia needed in her corner right now.

“When are these nuptials?” the Jabal official pressed. “I haven’t heard a date mentioned, which troubles me, and my government. If your engagement is just a hoax—”

“If you’ve come to insult me, then perhaps it’s best if you go now before I take personal offense.” Khalid fixed his attention completely on the secretary of security.

“The paperwork stated she was a family member.”

“And she is.” Khalid’s upper lip curled.

“So there will be a wedding.”

“Royal weddings take time and my family is scattered at the moment. Once we can bring us all together on a mutually agreeable date, the ceremony will take place.”

The Jabal official was silent a long moment before awkwardly nodding his head. “Very good. And congratulations again.”

“Thank you.” Khalid smiled, showing a hint of his teeth. “And now I shall join my fiancée, but I do hope you’ll stay and enjoy our hospitality. The hotel chef has outdone himself and there is much to sample.” With a nod he left the men and headed to Olivia.

Olivia watched Khalid walk toward her. While she’d dressed, he’d also changed, donning the traditional Arab robeing.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked on reaching her side.

She nearly smiled at his ironic tone. “It’s not much of a party.”

His warm gaze slowly swept over her, resting indulgently on her upturned face, lingering even longer on her lips. “I promise that one day we’ll throw you a proper party, one with lots of interesting people.”

“As long as there’s no one from the Jabal government there, I’ll be happy.”

He glanced toward the dignitaries now crowding around the buffet, piling their plates with food. “I’d tend to agree with you there.”

Before she could respond he turned back to look at her. “You look beautiful tonight. Like a goddess.” His dark gaze met hers and held. “And I don’t give compliments often. I also never say what I don’t mean.”

Liv’s insides felt funny, and her chest grew tight as though she’d swallowed an air bubble, but she knew it was nerves, and this odd emotion he stirred in her. This morning she’d thought it was fear. Now she wasn’t so sure. “Thank you. I’m glad you approve.”

By the time Liv went to bed an hour and a half later, she was so exhausted she was asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

In his room, Khalid didn’t find it so easy to fall asleep. Usually when he closed his eyes he found absolute silence, and darkness, a stillness that wrapped him completely, blanketing thought, emotions, need. But tonight when he closed his eyes he saw eyes, blue eyes, eyes with long sooty lashes, eyes that were too big in a face that was too small and pale.

But he didn’t want to be thinking of Olivia, didn’t want to become emotionally involved—or attached—in any way.

He hadn’t left his desert and isolation to become entangled in a relationship. He liked being a bachelor, enjoyed his life as a loner, and yet suddenly marriage seemed like a very real, and very constraining, possibility.

And he was the one who’d vowed to never marry.

Khalid passed a hand over his face, trying to erase the picture of Olivia from his mind, trying to create the desert’s stillness, but he couldn’t shake Olivia’s blue eyes, couldn’t erase her shock and fear from his mind’s eye.

He was still lying awake hours later when he heard her scream. It was a piercing scream and Khalid was on his feet immediately, bursting through the door separating the two bedrooms in the royal suite to flick on the light.

But once in Olivia’s room he discovered she was still asleep.

Standing motionless in her doorway, he watched her sleep, wondering what it was that had made her cry out, and hesitating in case she called out again. But minutes passed and she didn’t cry again. Instead she slept on, her long blond hair spilling across the pillow, her left hand curled beneath her cheek and chin.

Sleeping, all the worry and pain disappeared from her face. Sleeping, she reminded him of a young girl with all her hopes and dreams still before her.

He’d just turned out the light and was closing the door, turning to leave, when Olivia’s voice reached him.

“'Night, Jake,” she said sleepily, her voice soft in the darkness.

Jake. The big brother.

His jaw suddenly flexed, tension and pain rippling through him. He’d once been the big brother, too, to younger sisters, too.

But they’d died over ten years ago. They’d died and there was absolutely nothing he could do for them.

Maybe that’s why he was here, risking life and limb for Olivia. She was someone’s little sister.

“Good night, Olivia,” he said quietly, closing the door behind him, and as the door shut, he realized why he couldn’t sleep earlier.

Olivia was waking him up. Making him feel again. And feeling emotions hurt.

Feeling was the last thing he wanted to do.

KHALID was woken by the sound of his phone ringing. Groaning as it continued to ring, he reached out and grabbed the small wireless phone from the table beside his bed.

He recognized the number immediately. His eldest brother, Sharif.

Answering, he rolled over onto his back. “You’re a king and a newlywed,” Khalid said, his deep voice husky with sleep. “What are you doing calling so early?”

“You promised me you wouldn’t break any laws.”

Khalid rolled his eyes. “I didn’t.”

“The president of Jabal wants her back.”

“He’s not the president, he’s a dictator, and the Red Cross and United Nations are both extremely concerned by his regime’s disregard for human life.”

“Khalid, this is serious.”

“I know it is,” Khalid answered mildly, but both of them knew that Khalid was the Fehr brother least likely to compromise. “And Olivia’s not going back. Not now, not ever.”

Sharif sighed heavily. “You freed her by illegal means.”

“I rescued her from Ozr, which is synonymous with hell and you know it.”

“You claimed her. You claimed her as your fiancée.”

“Yes, I did.” “That’s a lie—”

“Not if I marry her.” Khalid nearly smiled at Sharif’s sharp intake.

“That’s ridiculous,” Sharif protested tersely. “You’ve spent the past ten years making it clear that you’re not interested in people, or relationships or emotions. You’ve pushed everyone close to you away. You don’t even return phone calls—”

“She’s in trouble.”

“The world’s in trouble, Khalid. That doesn’t mean you can save everyone.”

“I’m not trying to save everyone.”

“No?”

“No.”

Sharif muttered something unintelligible before adding, “They believe your Miss Morse is part of a huge drug ring.”

“She’s not,” Khalid answered flatly.

“But what if she is?”

Khalid fell silent. He’d considered the very same point. What if Olivia wasn’t innocent? What if she was part of this drug smuggling ring? What if the others were just better at the game and she was the one who got caught?

What if there weren’t any others involved?

What if she’d lied to everyone about everything?

“I’ve run a background check on her,” he answered after a moment. “There is nothing in her past that indicates she has the experience, or worldliness, to pull something like this off. She lives in the middle of nowhere—a small town in the south—and it’s a genuine small town, population thirteen thousand.”