‘You poor, deluded man.’
Her palm covered his cheek and his eyelids drooped as the pent-up tension was expelled from his lungs. One touch, just one, did that.
‘I’ve been in love with you more or less since we met.’
‘That’s crazy. You didn’t know me.’
Yet he greedily hoarded each precious word. His hands firmed around her waist, pulling her closer.
‘It was instinctive, and everything I believed about you has turned out to be right.’ She frowned. ‘Even down to your managing ways. Do youreallythink I’ll curl up and die because the gutter press prints lies about me?’
‘You shouldn’t have to face that.’
Her chin lifted. ‘You’re right. I shouldn’t. And I’m sure you and your lawyers will help me make them stop. But if you think I’m going to be scared away by gossip, think again.’ Her mouth tilted at one corner. ‘I work in a male-dominated industry. I’ve faced prejudice and sexual innuendo all my working life. Most of my peers are great, but there are always some who can’t cope. I won’t put up with it and I certainly won’t let it destroy my happiness. Besides, I’ve learned a thing or two from my father about dealing with the press.’
Ashraf stared, stunned by the pragmatic courage of his beloved. He’d known she was special, yet still she surprised him.
‘Ash?’
Her use of the old nickname was even more intimate than the feel of her hand on his flesh.
‘You do want me?’
‘Of course I do. I never want to let you go.’
He wrapped her tight in his arms. Not kissing her but simply embracing her. Feeling her heart beat against him, her breath a warm caress against his collarbone, her body a perfect fit to his.
Tori’s uncertainty made heat prickle at the back of his eyes. His breath shuddered. He had a moment’s recollection of feeling this close to tears only once before. He’d been about four and he’d often gone to play in the courtyard that had been his mother’s. The garden’s fragrance had reminded him of a long-ago comforting presence that he guessed must have been hers. But someone had told his father of his secret visits and he’d arrived to find all the scented roses pulled out. The place was a barren waste.
But Ashraf’s palace wasn’t barren. He had Tori—his woman, his lover, soon to be his wife. A heroine strong enough to stand beside him through whatever life held. And there was Oliver too.
‘You do know,’ he murmured, tilting her chin so he could look into her glorious eyes, ‘there’s no turning back now.’ His chest swelled with feelings he’d suppressed too long. ‘I love you too much ever to let you go. If you get cold feet before the wedding I’ll have the border closed and—’
‘What? You’ll kidnap me and ride off with me to your secret desert encampment? I like the sound of that.’
Her smile was wide and unshadowed. It seemed his Tori really had moved on from the trauma of their abduction.
Ashraf lowered his head so his mouth hovered above hers. ‘I’d planned to honeymoon on my private island off the coast, but if you prefer the desert...’
‘I prefer you kiss me and tell me again that you love me.’
He looked down, reading marvellous things in her gentle smile.
This. This was what he craved.
‘Your wish,’ he said against her lips, ‘is my command.’