The Call of the Desert (10 page)

Julia had been in plenty of stately homes and castles on her travels, but this took her breath away. She’d never seen such opulence and wealth. The huge ballroom was astounding, with an enormous domed ceiling covered in murals, and immense columns which opened out onto the warm, evocatively dusky night.

Waiting to greet them were the Sultan and his new bride—Kaden’s sister Samia. As they approached, Julia saw Samia’s face light up at seeing Kaden. She’d blossomed from a painfully shy teenager into a beauty with great poise. She’d always had a strong bond with her older brother, being his only full sibling, daughter of their father’s first beloved wife. Their father had married again, and Julia remembered Kaden’s stepmother as a cold, disapproving woman. She’d gone on to have three daughters of her own, but no sons which, Kaden had once told Julia, made her extremely bitter and jealous of Kaden and Samia. Certainly Julia could remember avoiding her malevolent presence at all costs.

Samia transferred her look to her then, and Julia attempted a weak smile. Samia looked at her with a mixture of bewilderment and hostility. It confused Julia, because she’d imagined that Kaden’s younger sister would barely remember her.

But she didn’t have time to analyse it. Kaden gripped
her hand, and after a few perfunctory words dragged her into the throng. Still shaken by Samia’s reaction, Julia asked, “Why did Samia look at me like that? I’m surprised she even recognised me.”

Kaden sent her a dark glance that was impossible to comprehend and didn’t answer. Instead he took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed her one. Raising his glass in a mocking salute, he said, “Here’s to us.”

He clinked his glass to Julia’s and drank deeply. She couldn’t stop an awful hollow feeing from spreading through her whole body. She sensed that he was regretting having brought her here. No doubt he would prefer the balm of a woman well versed in the ways of being a compliant and beautiful mistress. Suitably appreciative of all he had to offer. All Julia wanted to do was to get out of there and curl up somewhere comforting and safe.

Several people lined up then, to talk to Kaden, and Julia became little more than an accessory while they fawned and complimented him on the news that the vast Burquati oil fields were to be drilled. Once again Julia had a sense of how much had changed for Kaden since she’d known him.

Before long the crowd were trickling into another huge banquet room for dinner, and she and Kaden followed. He was deep in conversation with another man, speaking French.

During the interminable dinner Julia caught Samia’s eyes a few times, and still couldn’t understand the accusing look. Kaden was resolutely turned away from her, talking to the person on his other side, which left Julia trying to conduct a very awkward conversation with the
man on her left, who was infinitely more interested in her cleavage and had not a word of English.

Kaden was acutely aware of Julia, and how close her thigh was to his under the table. He had to clench his fist to stop himself from reaching out and touching it, resting his hand at the apex of her thighs, where he could feel her heat.

He felt constricted. His chest was tight. It had been ever since he’d seen Samia’s reaction to Julia. Samia was the chink in his armour. She was the only one who knew the dark place he’d gone to when Julia had left Burquat. It made him intensely uncomfortable to remember it. He reassured himself now, as he had then, that it had only been because he’d physically ached for her, his lust unquenched.

He knew he shouldn’t be ignoring Julia like this. It was unconscionably rude. But he was actually afraid that if she looked at him she’d see something that he couldn’t guard in his eyes. Samia’s reaction had been like rubbing sandpaper over a wound, surprising in its vividness.

Assuring himself that it was nothing—just another trick of the mind where Julia was concerned—Kaden finally gave up trying to pretend to be interested in what his companion was saying, made an excuse, and resolutely ignored Samia’s pointed looks in his direction. They were like little lashes of a whip.

He turned to Julia and could see from the line of her back that she was tense, that her jaw was gritted. Instinctively he put his hand around the back of her neck, and felt her tense even more in reaction. He moved his fingers in a massaging movement and she started
to relax. Kaden had to hold back a smile at the way he sensed she resented it.

Immediately a sense of calm and peace washed over Kaden, and for once he didn’t castigate himself or deny it. He gave himself up to it. The rawness subsided.

After what felt like an interminable moment Julia finally turned to look at him, and as his gaze met hers his body responded with predictable swiftness.

“Kaden …?”

He looked at her, and in that moment some indecipherable communication seemed to flow between them. Her eyes were huge, swirling with emotion, and Kaden couldn’t find the will to disguise his own response. The room faded and the din of conversation became silent.

Julia wanted to ask Kaden to stop looking at her like that … as if they were nineteen again and he wanted to discover the secrets of her soul. But she couldn’t open her mouth. She didn’t want to break the moment.

The clatter of coffee and liqueurs being served finally seemed to break through the trancelike state, and in an abrupt move Kaden took his hand off her neck, reached for her hand and stood up.

Julia gasped and looked around. A couple of people had started to drift away from the table, but many still sat. Kaden tugged at her and she had no choice but to stand. People were looking.

“Kaden … what are you doing? It’s not over yet.”

His eyes were so black Julia felt as if she might drown in them for ever.

“It is for us. I can’t sit beside you for another minute and not touch you.”

And with that he pulled her in his wake as he strode away from the table. Before she knew what was happening they were outside the ballroom. She could barely
catch her breath, and when she stumbled a little he turned and lifted her into his arms.

“Kaden!” she spluttered, as they passed servants who looked away diplomatically, as if they were used to seeing such occurrences all the time.

She couldn’t deny the thrill of excitement firing up her blood. Kaden was acting like a marauding pirate. He carried her all the way back through a labyrinthine set of corridors to their room, and only once inside the door, which he kicked shut with his foot, did he let her down. He wasn’t even breathing heavily. But Julia was, after being carried so close to his hard-muscled chest.

In the bedroom, he let her down on shaky legs. He pushed her up against the firmly shut door, crowding her against it and saying, “We’ll have to endure enough pomp and ceremony over the next two days, but every spare minute will be spent in this room.
That’s
the focus of this weekend.”

The sheer carnality stamped on his face and the hint of desperation in his voice stopped Julia from thinking too deeply about the hurt that lanced her—as if for a moment there, when he’d been looking at her at the table, she’d got lost in a fantasy of things being different.

And then his urgency flowed through to her—the realisation that even now time was slipping out of their hands. Overcome with an emotion she refused to look at, she took his face in her hands and for the first time felt somewhat in control. Kaden was right. Focus on the now, the physical. Not on the past. Or on a future that would never exist.

“Well, what are you waiting for, then?” And she kissed him.

Some hours later, Kaden was standing by the open French doors of the bedroom. B’harani lay before him like a twinkling carpet of gems. Soaring minarets nestled alongside modern buildings, and he knew that this was what he wanted to create in Burquat too. He’d already started, but he had a long way to go.

He sighed deeply and glanced back at the woman asleep in the bed amongst tumbled sheets. She was on her back, the sheet barely covering her sex, breasts bare, arms flung out, cheeks flushed. Even now his body hardened in helpless response. He grimaced. He’d taken her up against the door, her legs wrapped around his waist, with no more finesse than a rutting animal. And yet she’d met him every step of the way, her body accepting him and spurring him to heights he’d not attained in years.

Since her.

It all came back to her—as if some sort of circle was in effect, bringing them helplessly back to the beginning and onwards like an unstoppable force.

Julia woke slowly, through layers and layers of sleep and delicious lethargy. With an effort she opened her eyes and saw the tall, formidable shape of Kaden leaning against the open doors which led out to a private terrace. He was looking at her steadily, no expression on his face.

Helpless emotion bubbled up within her—especially when she saw the vast star-filled Arabian sky behind him. She had so much she wanted to say, but the past was all around her, in her. The lines were blurring ominously.

Instinctively she put out a hand and said huskily, “Kaden …”

For a long moment he just stood there, arms crossed, trousers slung low on narrow hips, top button open. He was so beautiful. And then he gritted out, “Damn you, Julia.”

He strode back into the room, all but ripped off his clothes and came down over her like an avenging dark angel. All the inarticulate words she wanted to say were stifled by Kaden’s expert touch and quickly forgotten.

When Julia woke on Sunday morning she ached all over. But it was delicious. Kaden was not there, and she found a note on his pillow to inform her that he’d gone riding.

When she thought of how Samia had been looking at her for the past two days she felt guilty, and she had no idea why.

The previous day, evening and night had passed in a dizzying array of events and functions all leading up to the grand ceremony today, which would be held in front of hundreds of guests and the media.

With a sigh Julia got up, went to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. Once finished, and dressed in a robe with a towel around her damp hair, she stepped out onto the open terrace to see that breakfast had been left for her on a table. She grimaced at the dewy fresh rose in an exquisite glass vase. That was a touch Kaden wouldn’t welcome.

All that existed between her and Kaden was this intense heat. They couldn’t even seem to hold a coherent conversation before things became physical. And she didn’t doubt that was exactly how Kaden wanted it.

Julia assured herself stoutly that that was just fine. She picked up a croissant and walked to the wall, from where she could see the stunning city of B’harani spread out before her.

Her heart swelled—not for this city in particular, but for this part of the world. If any city held her heart it was Burquat, high on its huge hill, with its ancient, dusty winding streets and mysterious souks. But the air here was similar, and the heat …

She heard a sound behind her and turned to see Kaden standing at the doors. Her heart leapt. He was dressed in faded jeans which clung to powerful thighs and a sweaty polo shirt, boots to his knees. Damp hair stuck to his forehead.

As she watched, he started to pull off his shirt with such sexy grace that she dropped the croissant and didn’t even notice. How could she feel so wanton and hot, mere hours after—?

Kaden threw down his top and came to Julia, hemming her in against the wall with his arms. His mouth found and nuzzled her neck. He smelled of sweat and musk and sex.

Julia groaned and said, half despairingly, “Kaden …”

He pulled one shoulder of her robe down and kissed her damp skin. “You missed a bit here … I think we need to remedy that.”

With that awesome strength he picked her up, and within minutes they were naked and in the shower.

Much later, when the daylight was tipping into dusk outside, Julia woke from a fitful sleep. She felt disorientated and a little dizzy, even though she was lying down. Flashes of the day came into her head: the lavish
wedding ceremony in the ornate ceremonial hall, Samia looking pale and so young, her husband tall and dark and austere, reminding Julia of Kaden.

And then, after a token appearance at the celebration, Kaden pulling her away, bringing her back here, where once again passion had overtaken everything. Her body was still sensitive, so she couldn’t have slept for long.

She heard a noise and turned her head to see Kaden sitting at a table in the corner of the palatial room, with his slim laptop open in front of him. That lock of hair was over his forehead, and he sipped from a cup of what she guessed was coffee.

There was something so domestic about the scene that Julia’s heart lurched painfully. And she knew right then with painful clarity that she had to be one to walk away this time. She couldn’t bear to stand before Kaden again and have him tell her it was over.

As if he could hear her thinking, he looked over. He was already half dressed, in black pants and a white shirt. His look was cool enough to make her shiver slightly, and he glanced at his watch. “We have to be ready in half an hour for the final banquet.”

Julia shot up in the bed, clutching the sheet. “You should have woken me.” With dismay she thought of her dress for this evening that was already in the wardrobe. It was another couture gown, and she was going to require time to repair the damage and restore herself to something approximating normality. If she could ever feel normal again.

Feeling absurdly grumpy, Julia marched into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Kaden sat back in the chair and frowned, looking at the tangled sheets of the bed. The truth was he’d felt so
comfortable here in the room, with Julia sleeping in the bed just feet away, that he’d forgotten all about waking her. His skin prickled at that. He’d felt that way before … with her, but never with another woman. Even with his own wife he’d insisted on separate bedrooms and living quarters. He knew now that if the situation had been reversed and he’d been married to Julia it would have been anathema not to share space with her.

If he’d married Julia.