The Sheikh King's Ward (Halabi Sheikhs Book 1) Page 5

  Bas hissed with frustration as their car stopped to let a line of donkeys go by, laden with baskets of fruit. “Oh, for the love of—”

  “Where are we going?”

  Bas turned from the window, his enthusiasm returning. “It’s a surprise,” he said. “A reward of sorts. You’ve been doing well with your training, and one good turn deserves another.”

  Fiona leaned forward, intrigued. “Give me a hint.”

  “It’s somewhere I loved as a boy, and since you seem so at home in my gardens…” He pressed his lips together. “No. I won’t spoil the surprise. I’ll just say I thought I’d walk you through a few of my fondest memories.” His voice roughened. “You must have some place you can go, somewhere that brings you back to your childhood, and it feels like everything’s still waiting for you, the whole world yours to conquer.”

  Fiona’s brows went up. She’d rarely heard Bas speak so plainly, or with such passion. “It’s the sea for me,” she said. “I don’t think it would even matter which one. I could be looking at the North Sea or the Caspian, and I’d still see what I saw that first time.”

  “And what was that?”

  “Possibilities.” She leaned her head on the window. “I’ve dreamed of traveling so long, or maybe just escape. The sea is all promise, the call of the other side.”

  “Escape, eh? Did you ever—”

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty. We’ve arrived.”

  “Oh!” Bas sprang into action, bounding out of the car and circling around to let Fiona out before his driver could do the honors. They’d arrived in an older section of the city, all wide squares and stately homes. “Come. I think you’ll like this. The hidden treasure of Al-Mifadhir.”

  He led her under a painted stone arch, down a winding path which led to a small clearing. A line of willows bent over an ivied wall, their green fronds trailing in the sand. Beyond the wall, Fiona could hear birds calling, but Bas made a sound of displeasure.

  “What’s the matter?”

  He stepped past her and rattled the gate. “Closed,” he said. He pushed the willow boughs aside to reveal a faded sign. ROYAL BOTANICAL GARDENS – OPEN DAWN TO DUSK. THURSDAYS – CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE. Bas cursed under his breath. “Since when did they close down on Thursdays?”

  “The Royal Botanical Gardens. Doesn’t that make them yours?” Fiona nudged him gently. “Why don’t you wave your royal scepter and, say, open sesame?”

  “That would hardly be an appropriate use of my authority.” His frown deepened. “Come on. We’ll get coffee instead.”

  “Coffee? You can’t be serious. You want me to trade a glimpse of your most treasured memories for something bitter in a cup?” She seized a handful of willow branches. “Look. They’ve left a rope and everything. Why don’t we climb in?”

  “In this suit? You’re joking.”

  “Then we’ll walk around.” Fiona tugged at his sleeve. “Look, the wall’s only out front. It’s just fences round the side, and I’ll bet we could squeeze through.”

  “That’s not an invitation to trespass.”

  “You can’t trespass on your own land.” Fiona marched forth, leaving Bas to catch up. She’d been intrigued in the car, seeing Bas wistful and introspective. In public, he was always the king, pleasant but remote, diverting the conversation when it threatened to get personal. She was sure he’d intended the same for today, a staid walk through the gardens, smiling for the tourists as he guided her through his past. Without the audience, there was the chance for something real. Fiona couldn’t pass that up.

  “Here,” she said. The fence had come loose where it met the formal wall, and Fiona gave it a push.

  “Don’t do that.” Bas glanced over his shoulder. “We can come back tomorrow.”

  “Why? Today’s beautiful, not a cloud in the sky.” She squeezed through the gap before Bas could stop her, and the grounds stretched before her, white stone paths wending between fountains and dovecotes, terraced rock gardens. A green-draped pergola shaded a cluster of picnic tables, the chairs neatly stacked on top.

  “They sell treats there when they’re open,” said Bas. “Yughmish, batatis, you name it. Kulfi for dessert.”

  Fiona glanced at him. That wistful look was back on his face. He was staring past the picnic tables, staring through them, as if his mind was somewhere else.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “My parents.” He moved toward the pergola, a new lightness in his step. “They came here on their first date. And their last. Mother wanted to come here, right before the end.” He cleared his throat. “I think she knew. She’d been ill for so long. She was all out of fight. But that was a good day. They were sitting right there, going on about the old days.” He pointed at a shaded table, half-curtained by trailing vines. “Standing here, I almost expect to see them. To hear them call me over.”

  Fiona reached for his hand. For once, Bas didn’t stiffen or pull away. She threaded her fingers between his and gave him a squeeze.

  “I brought snacks,” she said.

  Bas made a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “What?”

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a chocolate bar. “It’s not kulfi, but it’s pretty sweet.”

  “Let’s share it.” Bas split it down the middle and handed half to her. He bit into his half and smiled. “I can’t remember the last time I had one of these. It might even have been here.” His eyes fluttered closed as he took another bite, and Fiona felt warm. There was something sensual about his pleasure, the way his tongue darted out to lick the chocolate off his lips.

  The garden was deserted. It would be so easy to close the distance between them, kiss him till he forgot his objections. Kiss him till he forgot his own name.

  “Let’s try the fountain,” he said. He finished his chocolate and tucked the wrapper in his pocket. “Do you want to make a wish?”

  Fiona thought she just had, but she followed him anyway. Even his walk was different here. At the palace, he strode with purpose, eyes fixed straight ahead. Here, he wandered, pausing to admire a bloom here, a statue there. The furrow between his brows had all but vanished, and his lips had crooked up in a smile.

  “Here we are.” Bas arrived at the grand fountain and perched on its edge. “I never carry cash, but look. I brought these.” He dug into his breast pocket and came up with two coins, which he held out of Fiona’s reach. “Before I hand yours over, there are rules.”

  Fiona fetched an exaggerated sigh. “More rules? You’re killing me.”

  “These rules are fun.” The coins sparkled in the light. “One: your wish can’t be selfish. It has to be for someone else.”

  “That I can live with. Rule two?”

  “Rule two: no blabbing. Keep your wish to yourself or it’ll be denied.”

  “That goes for all wishes. Is that all?” Fiona grabbed for her coin, but Bas whisked it away.

  “Rule three: you must feed the peacocks or you’ll be forever cursed.”

  “You made that one up.”

  “Did I?” Bas leaned in theatrically, lowering his voice to a hiss. “Nine years ago to the day, I wished on this fountain and forgot to feed the birds. Not only did my wish go unanswered, but the next day in the aviary—” He tapped the top of his head. “Plop. Right there. Some vengeful macaw…”

  “All right. We’ll feed the peacocks. Can I make my wish now?” She held out her hand, and Bas dropped a coin in it. Fiona closed her eyes and clutched it tight.

  A saddle for Edlyn, she thought, and a long life to enjoy it.

  She tossed her coin in the water just as Bas tossed his. They landed side by side, almost touching.

  “Now, if I were your suitor, you might thank me here, mention the beauty of the fountain. You wouldn’t ask what I’d wished for, but you might hope I get it.”

  Fiona scowled, not wanting to think of her suitors. Not here, with her coin glinting next to his. She turned away to hide her disappointment. “So, where are tho
se peacocks?”

  Bas laughed. “Trust you to not follow directions. The peacocks…” Bas did a slow turn, scanning the grounds. “Sometimes you’ll hear them, this dying-cat scream, but all I hear are pigeons.”

  “Then we’ll just have to look for them.” Fiona set out down the nearest path. She picked up her pace as Bas followed—picked up her skirt and ran. She laughed as he chased her through the herb garden, past a row of blood lilies. He almost caught her at the rose arch, but she ducked into the hedge maze and left him behind, his indignant shout following her into the shade.

  “Afraid you’ll get lost?”

  “More likely you will.” Bas popped out in front of her. Fiona doubled back, hooking left, then right. “I grew up here,” he called. “I could run this maze in my sleep.”

  “What are you, a rat?”

  “Oh, wait till I catch you!” His footsteps came pounding down the other side of the hedge. Fiona stood silent and let him run past. She backtracked on tiptoe and looped around the edge.

  “I see your red skirt through the leaves.”

  Fiona glanced at the hedge. No way was that true. The foliage was too thick. He was baiting her, trying to fool her into betraying herself.

  “I see that smug look on your face,” he said. “Oh, now you’re turning around. You’re running the other way.”

  Fiona stumbled to a halt. “How are you doing that?”

  “Up here.”

  She looked up, and there he was, winking over the hedge.

  “No fair climbing. That’s cheating. You lose.”

  “You can’t make up rules halfway through.” He dropped down and circled around, grinning like a cat. “Otherwise, I can do whatever I like.”

  “Whatever you like?” Fiona felt breathless, as if the air had gone thin. She took a step forward, and Bas did the same. He was flushed, slightly sweaty, with his hair hanging loose in his eyes. His breath came fast and heavy, and Fiona realized she was panting, all in disarray.

  “I did win,” said Bas.

  “And your prize?” She let her hands drop to her sides. Take me. I’m yours.

  “My prize…” He took another step, and another. His eyes were narrowed to slits, black with desire. He reached for her, laid one hand on her shoulder. His grip tightened, and a thrill went through her. He’d be rough, she could feel it. He’d conquer her, make her his slave, and she wanted that. Couldn’t wait one more moment.

  “Bas…”

  He took her other shoulder. His palm grazed her bare skin where her dress had slid loose in the chase. Fiona closed her eyes.

  “Behind you.”

  Fiona frowned, confused, but Bas was already turning her around. Her eyes flew open, and there stood a peacock, blocking their path with its tail.

  “You—you—”

  “Give me your hand.”

  She held out her hand and Bas filled it with sunflower seeds from a packet he must have had stashed in his pocket.

  “Go on. He won’t peck.”

  She knelt in the grass, trembling from head to foot. The bird strutted over and helped itself to its treat. Bas fed it too, crouching down to stroke its wings.

  “There. Curse averted. Shall we continue our tour?” He held out his arm, and Fiona took it, unsure she could stand on her own. She’d been certain he’d take her, and she’d been ready. Her heart was still pounding, her blood rushing in her ears. Her body cried out for him, and she could hardly think.

  “My brother got lost in here once.” Bas struck out at a brisk pace, either unaware of Fiona’s distress or choosing to torment her. “Danny, not Chadil. Edlyn kept calling him, ‘Over here, over here!’ but she was just leading him in circles. They’re twins, you know—she was always the bossy one. Anyway, he was just sobbing, and she wouldn’t quit.” He smiled as they emerged from the maze. “She felt so bad after, she let him have her wish.”

  “That was sweet of her.” Fiona took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. “It feels like I could point at anything here, and you’d have a story to go with it.”

  “Try it.”

  She surveyed the garden and pointed at a bench. “That little stone seat with the cracks.”

  “I spilled Coke down my pants there.”

  “And that pond?”

  “Father loved it. It’s why there’s a pond in the aviary, and all those water birds.”

  “That tree?”

  “Well, that’s just a tree.” Bas chuckled. “But that path just beyond it, that’s where I almost had my first kiss.”

  “Almost?”

  “She turned away at the last moment. I caught her cheek.”

  Frustrating, isn’t it? Fiona bit her lip. Bas took her arm again, and he walked her through his childhood. He was a good storyteller, funnier than she’d have thought. Even the sad memories, he’d frame them to make her laugh. She found herself relaxing, her irritation ebbing away. By the time the sun reached its zenith, she’d gone from wanting to bed him to halfway in love with him, hanging on his every word.

  “We should get back to the palace,” he said at last. “We’ll miss dinner. There’ll be talk.”

  And there it was, the long leash of duty yanking him back. Fiona wanted to cling to him, hold onto this moment, but perhaps there’d be others. He’d dropped his guard once, and there had been a spark in the maze. If it hadn’t been for that peacock…

  “We’ll do this again,” said Bas, as though guessing her thoughts. “I enjoyed this. In fact…” He hesitated, as though debating whether it was safe to continue.

  “Yes?”

  He broke out in a grin. “In fact, it was the best day I’ve had in some time.”

  Fiona’s heart soared at that. All the way to the car, she kept returning to those words, and the warmth in his eyes when he said them, and she couldn’t feel the ground under her feet.

  They arrived at the palace at sunset. Bas shifted back into his palace persona before getting out of the car, but that exuberant glint stayed in his eyes. He helped Fiona up the steps and didn’t let go at the top.

  “I’ll escort you to your suite,” he said. “You can change for dinner and join me on the balcony.”

  She nodded, tongue tied. Bas’s offer of dinner had come out like a secret, half-whisper, half-growl. She followed him through the palace in a daze, and was it her imagination or did he pick up his pace as they left the public rooms behind? His fingers dug into her arm, and that was no dream. She peeked at him. He was frowning, lips pinched so tight they’d gone bloodless.

  “That was a cruel trick you played in the hedge maze,” he said, as they reached her door.

  “Me?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know the effect you have on me.” He drew closer, eyes burning. “When you look at me that way, then drop your eyes. When you part your lips just so. That sound you make, that little sigh—don’t pretend you didn’t hope to tempt me.”

  “And what about you?” Fiona edged nearer in turn, her shoe bumping his. “You tracked me down like a predator. Hunted me. Caught me. You looked like you wanted to eat me, and I—”

  “And you?”

  “I’d have let you.” She licked her lips. “I’d have let you devour me top to toe.” Her heart beat a little faster as she wondered what that might be like. She’d had a kiss or two at school, but only on the lips, and certainly nothing more.

  “Top to toe.” Bas looked her up and down, and she’d never felt so exposed. Her dress was a modest one, fit for a king’s ward, but she felt naked under his scrutiny. Bas leaned closer, closer, hot as a furnace, and she melted for him. She closed her eyes, letting him back her into the door, pin her against it. His hand snaked around her and she heard the door creak, felt herself falling as it swung open behind her. Bas caught her and spun her around, kicking the door shut behind them.

  “Don’t say a word,” he snarled, then his lips were on hers. This kiss was nothing like their last one. Bas didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop to breathe. He held her so c
lose she could feel his every contour, the hard planes of his body under his clothes. He was hard for her already, his cock straining against his pants. That caught her off guard, and she bucked against him without meaning to. Bas groaned, and she let herself explore him, running her hands through his hair to feel its coarseness, breathing deep to smell his skin. She tugged his shirt free and slid one hand up his back, moaning as he shivered. He was better than her fantasies, strong and solid, and he swung her into his arms, carried her across the sitting room as though she weighed nothing, and tossed her on the bed.

  “Oh!”

  Bas loosened his tie and threw it away. Fiona seized him by his lapels and pulled him down on top of her. He smelled of cut grass and cologne, some strange and intoxicating brand. She breathed him in deep, pulled his shirt open to taste him. He gasped as she nipped his collarbone, groaned as she tongued at a nipple. He took a handful of her hair and twisted it, just hard enough to sting. She arched underneath him, aching for more.

  “I have to see you,” he grunted, pushing himself upright. “All of you. Get that dress off.”

  She hesitated, suddenly shy, and covered it with defiance. “Get it off for me.”

  Bas bristled at her challenge, then rose to it, dragging her up to her knees. He spun her around and undid her top button, then tore the rest loose in one motion. The breeze from the balcony kissed her back, and then Bas did, tracing a line of fire down her spine.

  “Mine,” he whispered, hot against her skin. Fiona moaned. Her clit was throbbing already, her thighs slick with desire. Her toes curled as he slipped a hand under her skirt, and even here he was a tease, even here in her bed. She cried out, frustrated, as he ran his thumb up her leg, stopping just short of where she wanted him.

  “Tell me you want me,” he said.

  “You know I do.”

  “Say it, then. Make me believe it.” He pushed her dress off her shoulders, and, oh, it was distracting, the prickle of his beard on her skin.