Page 14 of Desert Warrior


  Keeping his sudden tension from showing in his body was a struggle. He merely moved aside the hair covering her face from him. "Yes?"

  She kept her eyes on the bedspread, her fingers playing with the embroidered swirls. "When we first met ...I was so frightened of losing you. That's why I never told you."

  "What?" He felt a mixture of hope and despair. Was she going to try and give him more excuses? He'd begun to be lieve that she'd matured, become someone he could trust, but that woman wouldn't try to ease her way with excuses.

  "Promise me something first?" she asked.

  It was the naked vulnerability of her voice that made his response gentle. "What would you have of me, Mina?"

  "Don't hate me for this." Her tone was ragged, as if she no longer had any protective walls, and suddenly, he knew that there were going to be no excuses from this woman.

  Hate her? Though he'd walked close to the line, he'd never hated Mina and couldn't imagine doing so. "On my word of honor as your husband." He gathered her closer, tenderness for her overwhelming him. He did not like to see her hurting.

  On the sheets, her graceful hand clenched into a fist so tight that cream turned to white and tendons stood out across her wrist. "I'm illegitimate."

  She'd given him no warning, no sign of the strength of her secret. "Illegitimate?" In his arms, she shivered. He reached over and covered them with a blanket, tucking her close to him, almost able to see her need to be touched.

  "My.. .parents are really my aunt and uncle. My birth mother, Mary, had me when she was a teenager." Jasmine swallowed. "I found out when I was a child that my parents only adopted me because they received part of Mary's inheritance. They n-never loved me. To them I was ...bad blood."

  The words came out on top of each other, like a flood bursting its banks. Her fist loosened and then curled again.

  Reaching out, he covered her hand and uncurled her fingers, smoothing them out. Her hurt was almost palpable. He'd never liked her parents, but at this instant he could have done physical violence to them. How dare they not treasure his wife, his precious Jasmine? "And you think this matters to me?" He was a little hurt by her distrust.

  "You're a sheik. You should've married a princess or at least someone who can claim royal blood. I don't even know the name of the man who fathered me." Her breath was rag ged.

  That was shameful, he acknowledged, but the shame was not hers, never hers. The shame was of the man who'd given his seed to create this lovely woman and then walked away, of the woman who'd borne a child and abandoned her, and of the people who'd asked payment for the priceless gift of this woman.

  "Look at me." He turned her in his arms. Jasmine raised her head and met his gaze, vulnerable but willing to face what ever he had to say. Pride in her courage burned in him. "Our people have barbarian roots. Chieftains still occasionally give in to the urge to carry off the women of their choice." He ran his finger over her lips, reminding her of his actions. "A desert male's choice is what is important. And I chose you to be my wife."

  "You aren't angry that I didn't tell you?" Her blue eyes shimmered with moisture.

  "Of course I'm not angry with you, my wife. I would that you had told me earlier, but I am not such a barbarian that I can't understand your reluctance." He kissed her again, knowing she needed to be physically reassured. Her body felt incredibly fragile under his hands, needing exquisite care.

  When she started to relax, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me this when we first met?" Back then, he'd been open in his adoration of his flame-haired girl.

  She bit her lip and took a deep breath. "I..just wanted...

  I didn't expect Mary to keep me ...but I thought after I was older she might want to get in touch. I wrote to her." She swallowed. "She told me never to contact her again. I was ...an indiscretion." Her breath had become ragged again, her tears barely held in check.

  "Then you... I wanted to ...to not be an outcast." Those eyes of hers brightened with tears, but his brave little Mina didn't let them fall. "I just wanted to be accepted."

  He heard the important words in that emotional confession. "Then have no fears. You are accepted. As my wife, Jasmine. What you were before only matters if you wish it to." Any hurt and anger he might have felt died a quick death under the overwhelming need to shelter her from further pain.

  His Mina, his gentle, sensitive wife, had grown up in a place where she had not been nurtured, where her softness had been mocked. It made him furious that this lovely woman in his arms had suffered so much pain and rejection. Knowing what she'd been through, he could forgive her for trying to protect herself. And yet she'd told him her secret. She'd laid her heart at his feet, and then given him the weapons to destroy it. It was an offering of immense trust and courage, and he intended to treat it with the care it deserved.

  Slowly, almost shyly, she wrapped her slender arms around his waist. "Truly?" At that soft sound, his heart clenched in a wave of tenderness as fierce as the desert sun.

  "Are you saying that the Sheik of Zulheil would lie to you?" He saw a tremulous smile edging her lips and was proud he could make her smile. Mina was his to care for.

  "Maybe. If he thought it would get him his own way." Her voice was less teary, her smile wider.

  He grinned at that. "I think you are right, but in this thing, never doubt me. You are now equivalent to a queen. No one has the right to make you feel an outcast." He would destroy any man or woman who tried to make his Mina feel a lesser being. "No one. Do you understand, my wife?"

  Finally, she nodded, and her smile was glorious. Tariq kissed her, knowing that she'd just shattered the strongest bar rier keeping him from loving her, heart and soul. How could he continue to fight his feelings for her, now that he knew what had driven her? How could he hurt his Mina as her fam ily had hurt her, by not loving her as she needed to be loved?

  Jasmine closed the door on the last guest of the day and headed to Tariq's study. Since she'd started to spend her days helping her husband, her pride in herself had grown. All her life she'd been told that she didn't measure up, but the people of Zulheil thought she was doing a fine job. And, she thought with a smile, the look in her husband's eyes as he helped her pick up the reins of royalty was magic itself.

  "You are looking pleased with yourself."

  "Tariq." Jasmine flowed into his arms. Her need to touch him grew daily. "I thought you'd be in your office."

  "I have completed my work for today. You make my duties much easier to bear." He cupped her cheek and tipped up her face. His expression was unexpectedly serious. "You are not taking on too much, Jasmine? I would not have you become ill."

  She smiled and turned her face into his palm. "Do I look ill or tired?"

  He shook his head. "You glow like the crystal of this pal ace."

  "That's because I've found a place where I can belong at last." She was struck by the truth of that statement.

  Tariq didn't stop her when she began to walk toward their apartments. He slipped his fingers into hers and shortened his stride to accommodate her steady pace. The ageless beauty of the tapestries and carvings lining the hallway didn't hold her attention while her mind was on things past, but she was constantly aware of Tariq's protective presence. She led them out into the private garden behind their rooms.

  "It's like the sun is smiling at the world." When she held out her hands, the thick yellow-orange sunlight shot through her fingers like warm, liquid satin. In the sky, red, orange and yellow vied for prime position in the soft pink glow of sunset, and all seemed at peace.

  Tariq tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "You belong in the sun, Mina."

  She turned and smiled at him. "I belong here."

  "Yes." He curved his arm around her and cradled her against him. One arm around his back, she rested her head on his muscled chest. They didn't speak until there was more red than yellow in the sky and pink was segueing to violet.

  "I know you did not feel you belonged in your parents' h
ome. Was there any reason aside from your birth?"

  The question was unexpected, but she welcomed the chance to make Tariq understand the girl she'd been. "I've never talked to you about this. I think I was afraid you'd begin to feel like everyone else."

  "No one can control me, my Jasmine. Tell me."

  She knew his words were supposed to comfort her, and to a certain extent, they did. However, they also reminded her of the divide that existed between them. Tariq was treating her like a partner as far as running Zulheil went, but in their personal relationship ... would he ever trust her again?

  "You know my sister Sarah is a stunning beauty." Sarah had the kind of beauty that made people stand in the streets and stare, something Sarah certainly knew. She'd been using her beauty her entire life to bewitch and control those around her. Even her parents could deny her nothing.

  "She is cold. She does not have your fire," Tariq stated, as if it were a simple truth.

  Jasmine's eyes widened. "Do you really think so?"

  "A man would be a fool to be captured by the glitter of false gold, overlooking the quiet, ageless beauty of purity." He wasn't looking at her and Jasmine didn't know if his words were a compliment or merely a statement.

  "Sarah never liked me. I don't know why, but it hurt so much when I was younger. She's my big sister and I wanted her to be my friend."

  Tariq was compelled to ease the bewildered pain in Jasmine's voice. "She was jealous of you. I could see it when I first met her. As you grew older, you became competition, and Sarah is not one who would countenance such a thing."

  Jasmine snorted. "Thanks for the flattery, but I'm nowhere near her in the beauty stakes."

  He hugged her tightly. "Your fire bums not only in your hair but in your spirit. Your sister was aware that she would grow colder and colder until she felt nothing. She knew you would bum hotter with each passing year, your beauty grow ing apace with the unfurling of your wings." He hadn't meant to admit that much, wasn't sure enough of Jasmine to show her that she was gaining a foothold in his heart.

  "That's the most wonderful thing anyone's ever said to me." The shimmering joy in her eyes soothed him. If letting Mina see that she mattered to him healed her hurts, then he would risk giving her this insight into his heart.

  "Your sister...what is the word?...propositioned me, after I had made my interest in you clear." He frowned at the memory. "She placed her fingers on my chest."

  Jasmine's eyes widened. "No."

  "I found it distasteful. I simply removed her hand." Im plicit was the fact that he'd chosen her over Sarah.

  Jasmine remained silent for a moment, mulling over that information. It put a new slant on Sarah's utter viciousness while Tariq had been in New Zealand. She'd known that Sarah wanted Tariq, but not that he'd rejected her advances.

  "Tell me the rest, Mina."

  Still unsettled, she continued, needing him to know. Needing him to love her despite her flaws. "Because of Sarah and how my parents always took her side, I never felt like I fit there. Then there were Michael and Matthew."

  "Your brothers hurt you?" Tariq's dangerously calm voice startled her.

  "Oh, no. Michael's a certified genius. He's older than me, and spent most of his life in his lab or with his head in his books. He was kind to me when he remembered my existence. Matthew's just turned twenty-one. We were born..." she paused "...over a year apart. Matthew is the baby of the family. He's also a natural athlete. He's been studying in the United States on a football scholarship for the past three years."

  "I don't see what you're trying to say." Tariq turned her around. She saw the frown on his face and knew that he was telling the truth.

  "I was so ordinary." Even now, her childish fear that he'd begin to treat her as her family had lay like a malevolent, shadow over her heart. "I sort of got lost among those three and their brilliance. I was just ...me."

  "Even in a crowd of a million people, Mina, you would stand out. I saw you with your family that first time and I saw only you." His voice was quiet but the words roared through her. "Your family did not appreciate your worth. It is good you came to me." With that, he folded her in his arms and dropped a kiss on her hair.

  Seduced by his unexpected gentleness, she almost told him again that she loved him, but the part of her that needed so badly to be loved in return stopped her. She couldn't bear it if he ignored her, or worse, looked at her with puzzlement, because that was clearly not the nature of their relationship. As they stood there watching the sun set, a vague sense of impending wrongness worried her. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was going to lose Tariq.

  However, as busy days drifted into sultry nights, her fears seemed to grow groundless and without substance, as airy as the desert wind. She convinced herself that she'd been imag ining things, and stopped looking over her shoulder.

  Days later, dressed in an ankle-length dress of pale green, her arms covered by full sleeves cuffed at the wrist, Jasmine circulated among Zulheil's people in the palace gardens, bathed in the fading evening light.

  "Jasmine al eha Sheik." A touch on her elbow halted her.

  She turned to smile at the elderly woman who'd stopped her. Absently, she made a note to ask Mumtaz exactly what the address meant. More than one person had greeted her that way this day. "Hello." She attempted Zulheil's native lan guage.

  The old woman's wrinkled face lit up. "You speak the lan guage of Zulheil?" she asked in the same tongue.

  Haltingly, Jasmine answered. "I try but... I am slow."

  The woman patted her on the arm with the warm familiarity that the people of Zulheil seemed to feel toward their rulers. It was as if they were considered part of every single family in the land. She found the easy acceptance wonderful.

  "You are of Zulheil. Soon you will speak the language well. My name is Haleah and I come from the farthest corner of Zulheil."

  "A long journey."

  Haleah nodded and fixed her with a shrewd eye. "I was sent to look at the new sheik's wife by the chieftain of our tribe."

  Jasmine knew from her visit to Zeina that Zulheil's system of government was made up of a number of chieftains who exercised local power. In turn, they'd sworn allegiance to their sheik and followed his dictates with unswerving loyalty and even fiercer dedication.

  "And what will... you tell... them?" She continued to speak in the beautiful lilting language of her sheik's land, not dis comfited by learning the reason for Haleah's presence. For the past month, she'd been on the receiving end of such scrutiny from a number of messengers.

  Haleah gave her a slow smile. "I will say that you have hair like fire and eyes like the blue of the sea on our coast. I will say your heart is open and that you will love our people as you love our sheik."

  Jasmine's composure fractured. "I...thank you."

  Haleah squeezed her arm. "No. I bring you the gratitude of my tribe for making our sheik feel happiness again. The sad ness in his heart was felt keenly by all."

  Jasmine bent and accepted the kiss on her cheek. Haleah moved away with a wave, heading for the car that would take her back to her lodgings and then to her home.

  A tug on her arm brought Jasmine around to face Mumtaz.

  "As your advisor, I have some information." Mumtaz's eyes held an amused look.

  "Spit it out," Jasmine said, easy in the presence of this woman who'd become her closest friend.

  "Keep your eye on that one." Mumtaz nodded discreetly toward an exotically beautiful woman.

  "Why?" Jasmine hadn't talked to the woman, but had admired the way she managed to dress demurely yet still look sexy.

  "Hira's family is the most powerful one in Abraz and they wished for her to become Tariq's wife. She was also happy with the idea. Then you came. It does not hurt to know those who might bear you grudges." Mumtaz raised her brows and blended back into the gathering.

  Though her confidence had grown since her marriage, Jas mine found it a shock to come face-to-face with her competition.
r />
  He'll forget you the minute some glamourpuss princess comes along.

  Like a bad dream, her sister's contemptuous laughter whis pered out of nowhere, perfectly describing Hira's lush sensuality. That same voice taunted that with women as stunning as Hira around, it was a wonder Tariq had married her at all. Love was a fool's dream. Jasmine gritted her teeth and fought off the ghosts. Tariq had married her and he wasn't a man who felt lightly.

  Tariq watched Jasmine move about the garden. Her smile was bright and her grace unique. She was at home among his people, a confident woman, sure of herself. No hint remained of the needy child-woman who'd hurt him so badly that he'd had to return to his homeland to heal.

  After her emotional confession, he'd made sure that she understood that she was accepted without question or hesitation. It had taken time, but his reward for patience had been seeing her faltering smile grow in brilliance. He was fascinated by her gentle blooming. Four years ago, she'd been a barely open bud who'd been badly mishandled, even by him. It was a hard thing to acknowledge, but he did it with the same ruthless honesty that made him a good leader.

  He'd been older and emotionally far stronger. His wife's family had not nurtured the fragile confidence of his Jasmine, and as a result, she'd been easily bruised. He'd put pressure on a vulnerable eighteen-year-old to choose him against her family--an unfair choice. He could understand that childwoman's fears when faced with his arrogant demands, and even forgive her for the choice she'd made. And yet he couldn't deny that he still needed her to choose to fight for him, needed her to love him so much that fighting for him was the only choice she'd ever make.

  The last time the choice had had to be made, her family had used her powerful need for acceptance to emotionally beat her into submission. Seeing this new Mina, he couldn't help but wonder whether, if the choice had to be made again, she'd stand firm and refuse to give him up.

  Could it be so simple? The difference between the weakness of a child and the gentle strength of a woman? Perhaps he could chance trusting this lovely woman. This woman who quite simply took his breath away.

  He planned to go to Sydney in a week, and this time, he decided, he wouldn't leave Mina behind. The woman his Jasmine had grown into deserved to be free. And she deserved his trust.