“What I wish is for us to proceed to the desert castle. Now is not the time for a sentimental return to your childhood home.” He turned and issued a few short, sharp commands to his attendants, some of whom returned to the palace, while others jumped into cars which emerged at the wave of a hand. The sound of car doors slamming filled the courtyard. Zavian slid into the driver’s seat and grunted with satisfaction as he handled the steering wheel and gear stick. He was in control, just as he liked it.
“Gabrielle,” he said, not turning to look at her. “You should know I’m a man of my word. I said we’d go together, and that is what we’ll do.”
“And you have to drive, of course,” she said, as his men stepped away from the car, leaving only the two of them inside. The gates rolled open, and Zavian drove through them, closely followed by two other vehicles.
He glanced at her. “Of course.”
As they drove slowly through the old quarter and out toward the city boundary, she couldn’t help remembering.
He glanced at her. “Although I seem to remember a time when you insisted on driving us around the desert in your grandfather’s Jeep.”
She looked at him, startled. It was as if he’d been reading her mind. “It was ancient and required gentle handling.”
His glance set her pulse racing. Again, their minds were in sync. “And do you still think I don’t know how to handle things gently when required?”
She swallowed but refused to answer. She risked a glance at his profile. Dark glasses screened his eyes from the sun as they burst out of the city and onto the short plain, which would take them to the mountain road and then to the desert interior.
“I grew up on horseback, remember,” he continued. “To get the best out of an animal, one needs to know how to treat it—when to be gentle, when to be firm.”
“But always to be in control,” she murmured, as they passed lush farms, the result of heavy irrigation.
“Of course. One cannot change one’s personality.”
“More’s the pity.”
There was silence, and she glanced back at Zavian. He had one arm over the back of the seat, his hand nearly, but not quite touching her shoulder as he angled towards her. He looked less like a king now, and more like the man with whom she’d fallen in love. There was a sense of excitement in his eyes and something more.
He didn’t need to stretch to extend his fingers to touch her shoulder if he desired. It seemed he didn’t desire, not yet. “You would not like it if I changed my personality.” A small smile played on his lips.
She shook her head and tried to suppress a smile. “You think you know me so well.”
“Idoknow you.” His finger now rested on her shoulder. “These past few days, I’ve watched you as you struggled to come to terms with the conditions at the palace, and yet you’ve enjoyed being back in Gharb Havilah.”
There it was again—that contradiction. Her body buzzed at the thought that he’d watched, that he’d noticed her enjoyment and her discomfort at being trapped in the palace with him. But then, she felt like a rabbit caught in the glare of a headlight, unable to escape, stunned by the brightness of the light.
“Maybe.” She focused studiously on the approaching line of mountains, which fringed the plain upon which the city sat.
His finger moved over her shoulder, and she closed her eyes against the sensation which was gentle, yet so powerful that it sent shivers snaking through her body to places where they really shouldn’t snake.
“Gabrielle.” His voice was hushed as if he, too, felt those same sensations. “You wanted to be free of the palace, and I am giving you this freedom.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. He truly believed he was giving her freedom. She could see it in his eyes. She shook her head, about to deny it, about to tell him that freedom couldn’t be given. If it was, it was yet another form of control. But before she could speak, the hand on her shoulder caressed her again, and all thoughts fled.
“At dinner last night, you asked me a question, and I didn’t answer.”
She shrugged, not wanting an answer to that question right at that moment.
“You’ve forgotten? Then let me remind you. You asked me why I’d brought you here. You suggested I wished to rekindle something before I marry. And I didn’t answer.”
She smiled. “You seldom do, not if you don’t want to.”
“Ah, but it’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s that I didn’t know the answer. But now I do.”
“What is it? What is the answer?”
“Later, I will show you later.”
Show you, he said. Show, not tell. Her mind refused to shift from imagininghowhe would show her.