Midnight in the Desert: Jewel in His Crown / Not Fit for a King? / Her Desert Prince

RUBY suffered a rude awakening the next morning. Raja was shaking her shoulder, the tent walls were flapping loudly and her ears were ringing with noise.

‘Get dressed,’ he framed urgently as she blinked in bewilderment. ‘We’ve been found and we’re leaving!’

As he strode from the tent she peered out after him and saw a pair of what looked like heavy-duty military helicopters coming in to land. Galvanised into action as she registered that their desert sojourn appeared to be at an end, she yanked open her case in search of something decent to wear. She dressed in haste, choosing cropped trousers and a vest top teamed with a light shirt. As she hastily brushed her hair every movement she made ensured that she remained mortifyingly conscious of the intimate ache between her legs.

The events of the past twelve hours raced through her memory and her slender hands fisted in defensive rejection of her reckless behaviour. As a rule, Ruby didn’t do reckless. Ruby was usually thoughtful and cautious, never impulsive, yet she had, with very little thought, utterly destroyed the platonic marital agreement she had insisted on. All for what? Great sex, she acknowledged shamefacedly, but in the aftermath even greater regrets.

They had agreed to a fake marriage and now how was their relationship to be defined? The agreement had been broken, the boundaries blurred and their respective roles were no longer clear-cut. Raja’s unqualified passion had enthralled her. She had to be honest with herself about that. She found the Najari prince regent incredibly attractive. He fascinated her and he had tempted her from that first kiss back in England. No other man had ever had that effect on her. She had been eager to know what sex was all about, had wanted to feel what other women felt and had sensed from the outset that he might well be the guy who could show her. And he had, unquestionably, shown her. Over and over and over again, she recalled, her face burning. In bed her desert prince ditched all reserve and cool in favour of a scorching-hot sexual intensity that had lit a fire inside her that she could neither resist nor quench.

As Ruby emerged from the tent she saw Raja standing in conversation with several men, all of whom wore military uniform. Every male eye turned towards her and then heads inclined and lowered and a respectful murmur of greeting acknowledged her presence. Raja drew her forward with an assured hand to introduce her to the various air-force personnel before assisting her into the nearest helicopter.

‘We will breakfast in Najar—’

‘I think I should stay in Ashur for the moment,’ Ruby told him quietly. ‘I ought to continue on to where I was heading when we were kidnapped.’

The tall black-haired male by her side frowned down at her.

‘Naturally you want to let your father see that you’re OK as soon as possible. I’ll be fine,’ she asserted lightly.

Raja captured her hand in his. ‘Where’s your wedding ring?’

Ruby glanced down at her bare fingers. ‘Oh, dear, I didn’t notice. It was very loose and it must’ve fallen off. I don’t think it was still on my finger when we arrived here.’

His wide sensual mouth compressed. ‘I will find a replacement.’

A slight hint of amusement on her gaze, Ruby sent him an airy glance as though the matter was too trivial to discuss. ‘No hurry …’

His face hardened, inky lashes dropping low over his intent scrutiny. ‘We must agree to disagree,’ he traded huskily. ‘I will see you tonight—’

‘Tonight?’ Ruby was surprised, having assumed that their separation would last somewhat longer. She was also rather keen to have a decent breathing space in which to regroup.

‘Tonight,’ Raja confirmed, striding off to speak to the pilot before climbing aboard the second helicopter.

During the flight, when Ruby felt nervous tension beginning to rise at the prospect of what expectations might await her in Simis, the capital of Ashur, she breathed in deep. She reminded herself that she was reasonably intelligent, even-tempered and willing to learn, not to mention being filled with good intentions. She didn’t need Raja by her side telling her what to do every minute of the day.

The airport building outside Simis was a large temporary shed. Surrounded by soldiers and police who made her nervous, Ruby was greeted by Wajid Sulieman’s familiar and surprisingly welcome face and tucked straight into a waiting car. His concerned questions about her health and how she had managed in the desert brought a smile to her expressive mouth.

‘I was lucky to have the prince with me,’ she admitted, willing to award honour where it was due. ‘How did you find us?’

‘Someone contacted the media with your location,’ Wajid told her. ‘From the moment that we announced that you were missing, people began gathering outside the palace gates to wait for news. There was great anger and concern on your behalf. Some were quick to suspect the Najaris of duplicity and there were protests. It was a very tense situation.’

‘I’m sure feelings ran equally high in Najar,’ Ruby remarked as the car cut around a horse and cart.

‘Even higher. Your husband is a war hero and tremendously popular,’ Wajid said. ‘It is unfortunate that he was unable to accompany you here but I understand that he will be arriving later.’

‘Yes.’ Crowds lined the old-fashioned city streets and necks were craned to get a better view of her car. ‘Are those people actually waiting to see me?’ Ruby whispered incredulously.

‘There is great excitement and curiosity about your arrival. It is a positive event after so many years of bad news,’ the older man volunteered wryly. ‘For the next few days you will be out and about a good deal to allow people to become familiar with you. The photograph taken after your wedding was very well received. I cannot praise Prince Raja highly enough for having had the foresight to organise it.’

‘Raja thinks of everything,’ Ruby agreed, thinking sunburn, scorpions … sex. A little tremor of heated recollection rippled low in her body and she stiffened, annoyed that even memory could make her so sensually susceptible.

On her short visit to Ashur as a teenager she had seen the imposing grey building that comprised the palace only from the vantage point of the tall wrought-iron gates. A step in the imperious wake of Wajid, she entered the palace from a side entrance where a group of staff bowed low and several introductions were offered. From the hall she was escorted up a staircase.

‘Your uncle, the late King Tamim and his family used the east wing. I thought you might be more comfortable in this more modern corner of the palace.’

Ruby reckoned that only in Wajid’s parlance could a décor at least sixty years out of date be deemed modern. ‘What was my uncle like?’

‘He was rather set in his ways, as was his daughter, Princess Bariah—’

‘My cousin.’

‘A fine young woman, who was of course destined to marry Prince Raja before the accident that took her life and that of her parents,’ the older man remarked in his pedantic manner, quite unaware of Ruby coming to a sudden halt and shooting him a look of dismay.

Her cousin had originally been contracted to marry Raja? Of course that made sense but it was still the first time that that fact had been mentioned to Ruby. And like a bolt from the blue that little fact cut Ruby to the bone. Just at that moment it was a deeply unwelcome reminder that there was nothing personal, private or indeed special about her relationship with the future king of Najar and Ashur, for Raja had been equally willing, it seemed, to marry her cousin. Fate had simply served Ruby up in her cousin’s stead. But how had Raja really felt about that sudden exchange of brides? Had he been attached to her royal cousin, Princess Bariah? A sliver like a shard of ice sliced through Ruby, who was affronted and hurt by the idea that she might well have been a second-best choice on her husband’s terms. No doubt he would have been equally willing to share a bed with her cousin. How could she have been foolish enough to allow such intimacy without good reason? And how could desire alone ever be sufficient justification?

As she stepped through a door a little dog barked wildly and hurled itself at her legs. Smiling happily, Ruby got down on her knees to pet Hermione, who gave her a frantic squirming welcome before finally snuggling into her owner’s arms and tucking her little head blissfully below Ruby’s chin. Wajid mentioned the reconciliation service to be held at the cathedral that afternoon, which Ruby had to attend, as well as an evening reception at which she was to meet many important people. She stifled a groan at the thought of her inadequate wardrobe and wondered if the red suit could be freshened up for the occasion.

A knock sounded on the door and a young woman joined them. ‘This is Zuhrah, Your Royal Highness, who with the assistance of your personal staff will take care of all your needs,’ Wajid explained. ‘She speaks excellent English.’

Zuhrah explained that she would look after Ruby’s diary and take care of all the invitations she received. Wajid departed while the pretty brunette showed Ruby through the spacious suite of rooms that had been set aside for her use. Over the light lunch that was served in the dining area Ruby mentioned the red suit and Zuhrah wasted no time in going off to track it down. As soon as she had eaten Ruby took advantage of the bathroom—she would never take one for granted again—and enjoyed a long, invigorating shower. Having dried her hair, she returned to the drawing room, clad in a wrap, and asked Zuhrah, who was tapping out notes on a netbook, if her missing handbag had turned up. Apparently it had not and Ruby knew she would have to see a doctor if she wanted another contraceptive pill. But did she need to take that precaution now? Was she planning to continue sleeping with Raja?

She thought not. Her brain said no, a very firm no. A mistake was a mistake and better acknowledged as such. There was another consequence to be feared as well, she reminded herself ruefully. She had missed taking her contraceptive pills while she was in the desert and there had to be a risk that she might already have conceived a child by Raja. What was she going to do if that happened? A chill ran down Ruby’s spine at the prospect of such a dilemma. She loved babies but a baby that would be deemed royal would severely complicate her practical marriage and ultimately wreck any hope of them establishing a civilised relationship. She was convinced that if she had a child there was no way that Raja would agree to her taking that child back home to the UK with her again.

The service at the cathedral late that afternoon required nothing more from Ruby than her presence. Police stood outside the historic building with linked arms to hold back the crowds struggling to catch a glimpse of the new princess. The evening reception was a great deal more taxing, however, for while she was perfectly able to make small talk she was embarrassed several times by more probing questions concerning her background than she wished to answer. People were extremely curious about her and as yet she did not have the skill to deflect unwelcome queries. Later she would register that she had known the exact moment when Raja entered the big reception room for a flutter of excitement seemed to run through the gathered cliques. With a muttered apology, Wajid left her side and heads turned away from her, eyes swerving towards the door while a low buzz of comment sounded.

‘Real royalty,’ someone whispered appreciatively within Ruby’s hearing. ‘And you can definitely tell the difference.’

Mortified heat burnished Ruby’s fair complexion. Real royalty? Had she performed her role so badly? But then she knew that she could only be a pretend princess by virtue of her birth. How could she be anything else when she had spent all her life to date living as an ordinary person? But she was trying, she was trying very hard to be polite, reserved and dignified as Wajid had advised her she must be at all times while carefully avoiding controversial subjects. It was tough advice for a bubbly and naturally outspoken young woman to follow. To Ruby it also felt like trying to be something she was not while putting on airs and graces that went against the grain.

His tall powerful physique sheathed in a dove-grey suit, her husband looked devastatingly handsome. Her husband? Why was she thinking of Raja in such terms? He wasn’t her husband, not really, she told herself angrily, irritated by the mental mistake. A woman chose her husband with her heart but she had not. Guilty colour mantling her face, Ruby studied that lean, strong, wondrously handsome face and she steeled herself to feel nothing, absolutely nothing. She watched Raja work the room like a professional, smooth and practised and yet charming as well with a word here, a greeting there, for some a smile, for others a more serious aspect. He was a class act socially, everything she was not. Hovering at his elbow, Wajid Sulieman looked as though all his Christmases had come at once.

When refreshments were served, Raja was finally free to join Ruby. Lustrous dark eyes gleaming like polished amber flared down into hers while he rested a light hand at her spine. She went rigid, rejecting the temptation of even that much familiarity while recalling Bariah, who would never have been ill-at-ease in such a social gathering.

‘My family were very disappointed not to meet you today,’ the prince told her quietly.

‘Whereas here everyone is disappointed that I’m not you—you carry the accolade of being real royalty, unlike me,’ Ruby retorted, only to bite her lip a few seconds after that hot rejoinder had escaped her for she would have preferred to keep that particular thought to herself.

‘You are imagining that. A beautiful woman in fashionable apparel is almost always more welcome than a man,’ Raja fielded without skipping a beat.

Wajid introduced them to an older couple, who represented a charity that ran an orphanage just outside Simis, which Ruby, apparently, would be visiting the next day. In the wake of that casual announcement, which was news to Ruby, she appreciated how little freedom she now had when it came to how she might choose to spend her time. Her time evidently now belonged to an ever-growing list of duties, engagements and activities, not least of which was her need to learn the language so that a translator did not have to dog her every footstep.

‘You’re very quiet. What’s wrong?’ Raja enquired as Ruby mounted the stairs that led back to her suite.

‘It’s not important.’ Ruby pushed open the door and sped through to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable. A maid was engaged in hanging clothes in a closet there, male clothes. Her soft full mouth compressing as she recognised that fact, Ruby walked back into the main reception room where Raja was poised by the window.

‘You’re staying in this suite with me?’

‘Married couples usually share the same accommodation,’ Raja pointed out evenly.