“There is nothing wrong with this...”
“After the wedding.”
“Perhaps I don’t want to wait until after the wedding.” She was feeling slightly ashamed of how hard she was pushing. But then, why should she not? This was to be her marriage, too. What she wanted was important. And she wanted him.
“I must maintain my focus. I cannot afford to be distracted.”
“Tarek—”
“I can be ruled by nothing. My only master is this kingdom. I must do everything in my power to protect it. I have spent my life casting off earthly desires, and I will not give in to them now.”
Somewhere in her lust-fogged brain, she tried to make sense of his words. Tried to figure out something to say next. But she couldn’t.
“Get out,” he said, “or I will leave and find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”
“I’m not going to beg,” she said, her tone wooden. “Nor am I going to violate your person against your will.”
“Tonight went well. Do not let this ruin it.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you know anything about women?”
“No,” he said, his tone dark.
“If you did, then you would know that rejection is always going to cast a pall over the evening.”
“I’m not rejecting you. I am marrying you.”
She flung her arms wide. “Well, I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
“Why are you angry with me?”
“Because,” she said, ignoring the tightening in her throat, “you hurt my feelings.”
Oh, how she despised herself for that moment of honesty. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was too deep in this to see that she was letting it affect her judgment. Normally, she was much more like Tarek. Guarded. Holding back pieces of herself. Not allowing desire or a need for anything to dictate her actions.
Maybe he was right to be wary of this thing between them.
His dark brow furrowed. “How?”
“Because...I take it as...commentary on my appearance. On my appeal.”
He let out a hoarse laugh. “There is nothing wrong with your appeal. That is the problem. I cannot allow your appeal to become bigger than my goals.” His dark eyes dropped down to her lips. “I must never let my own desires become larger than the tasks I have to complete.”
“Not even desiring your fiancée?”
“Nothing. Where would it end? You don’t understand... My brother... He was driven entirely by his own desire. It was not limited to sexual need. But greed. For power, for money. It overtook him. And we carry the same blood. Where does it begin? And where does it end? I don’t know the answer. I will give no foothold to that level of greed. None. Not even for you. I must keep my focus clearly set.”
“But later...”
“It will be different. It will be in its place. Part of my obligations, and not merely a temptation.”
“Am I a temptation?”
He clenched his teeth tightly, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “You are the only real temptation I have ever faced.” With that, he turned away from her, summarily dismissing her without another word.
But he couldn’t dismiss the admission. She was a temptation for him.
She had never been a temptation for anyone before. For Marcus, she had been another indulgence in a lifetime of them. And she hadn’t even truly been that. She had been the suitable woman, the one he had married.
She tempted Tarek.
She wanted to hold that close, to examine it and turn it over in private, where she could decide how exactly she felt about it.
“When exactly are we to be married?”
Another raw laugh escaped his lips. “From where I am standing, I would say the sooner the better.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
A WEEK SINCE his encounter with Olivia had done nothing to cool the arousal in his blood. She tempted him, she tempted him beyond the need for anything else. He had been in dire straits in the desert. Sometimes without food, sometimes without water. And yet, now he craved her more than he craved either of those things. And it was unacceptable.
He was determined not to succumb to this. This wild need that was like a prowling animal inside him, tearing at years of well-practiced restraint.
Even now, he could taste her on his lips. Could recall exactly the soft, delicate feel of her mouth beneath his.
He had nearly crushed her beneath his need. He had been rough. He despised himself for that. For his lack of restraint.