The Desert King by Olivia Gates

Author:Olivia Gates [Gates, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Throne of Judar, Category
ISBN: 9780373768967
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2008-09-08T22:00:00+00:00

One hour later, as the sun disappeared from the skies, leaving behind an ephemeral masterpiece of incandescent hues on the twilight’s horizon, Kamal was waiting to escort Aliyah through grounds that Farooq’s woman had turned into a reproduction of the most lavish setting of One Thousand and One Arabian Nights.He stood by the garden’s southern entrance as the zaffah music segued into the traditional songs, anticipation reaching critical mass.

Then she appeared at the far end of the entrance hall, followed by her bridal procession. She glided across the floor, her majestic figure reflected in the mirrored marble, head held high, eyes staring into nothingness, every undulation of her ornate, black-swathed body a testament to the grace of a model-born, a female to overturn monarchies. Then she saw him.

She almost stopped. Anxious at his reaction? Good. He shouldn’t be the only one with chaos reverberating in his bones.

Then, under his avid gaze, her model programming seemed to kick in, her steps gaining that poised prowl of a woman used to admiration and above caring about it. Insane wishes gnawed at him, that this wasn’t a prison of duty they were entering knowingly, where only torment awaited, that this was a marriage born of love. Everything that wasn’t written in the fates. Not for him. Not with her. And if not with her, then never with anyone else….

All thoughts evaporated and his heart rammed his ribs.

At Bayt al Hekmah, she’d been shrouded in shadows. Here, as she neared him, the superb light exposed everything.

She looked as if she hadn’t tasted food in days. The memory of her past fragility, that it might be returning, had bile backing up in his throat. And her fragility seemed worse now.

Before, she’d been hyper. In the past few days, she’d been confident, stable. Now…now she looked—felt—haunted.

And he could no longer evade the admission. No matter her defiance, she wasn’t goading him. Not now, not before. She’d only been trying to stand up for herself. She truly hated this.

Something thorny expanded inside his chest, the pain it inflicted bringing him face-to-face with another fact.

He no longer hated her. He craved her. Beyond insanity. He refused to ponder what else he felt. Whatever it was, it was all irrelevant. Only one thing mattered.

She was his bride. No matter why or how or for how long. And he’d take her. He’d wallow in her until he was sated. He’d surrender to the hold she had over him until it was no more.

Maybe then he’d be free of her.

Decision seeped through him with the clarity only she had ever robbed him of. He let it order his thoughts, play on his lips. Then he extended his hand to her.

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