There was no restraint here.
Instead, all the things he felt, all the things he’d wanted to say to her in the past years, all the strain of the last few short hours—everything spilled out into that kiss as his mouth savaged hers while they stood amidst the sandy dunes under a scorching desert sun.
Until she flinched, and his hand in her hair came away sticky and damp.
Breathless and conflicted, searching for answers to questions he didn’t understand and finding none, he pushed her away from him as abruptly as he’d pulled her into his kiss, his chest labouring, his senses shot as he tried to make sense of the discovery.
He looked down at his fingertips, felt something twisting and curling inside him. ‘You’re bleeding.’
Somehow Sera managed to keep upright, although her legs felt boneless, her senses in a shambles. He’d been angry with her, hadn’t he? So angry after he’d pulled her out of the car. But then he’d kissed her—a kiss that had knocked her remaining breath clean out of her lungs and left her more confused than ever.
And all he could worry about was a bang on the head she’d forgotten completely in the thunderclap of a kiss that had blanked her mind, wiping clear the terror of her escape, the relief at being safe, the fact that he hated her.
He hated her. He’d told her so. He’d shown her in his words and his actions.
So why had he just kissed her?
‘Your Highness!’ The breathless cry came from the dunes behind and she turned her head to see one of the drivers, half jogging, half stumbling through the sand, his face red and sweat streaked from his exertions, his white robe sticking to him and stained with sand. The other followed a few paces behind, looking no less stressed, and guilt sliced into her as cleanly as a surgeon’s scalpel.
She was the cause of their distress. And their concern for their prince meant they must follow even as he chased the crazy woman in the car. Rafiq would not have thought of such things—he had been so many years in Australia that he would not understand the depth of their responsibility to a member of their royal family. But she knew how the palace worked. And she should have realised Rafiq would follow. He probably hadn’t finished telling her how little he thought of her—for that reason alone he would have been driven to pursue her.
But out here, deep in the desert, when she hadn’t cared what might happen to her, she should at least have realised how dangerous her actions were for everyone else.
When had she become so selfish? She had not thought through her actions. She had not thought of anyone else at all.
But of course the men did not take issue with her—it was not their place to judge. Instead, both men stared at the doomed car, now sinking its way deeper into the desert itself, offering prayers of thanks for their prince’s safekeeping as they neared.
‘Your Highness,’ one of them panted, his hand over his chest as he dipped his head with respect. ‘We feared for your safety.’ His eyes were once more drawn to the bizarre sight of the doomed vehicle, and he caught his breath before he could continue. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ Rafiq said, handing water to the men. ‘Drink. Then one of you see to Sera. She has a wound on her head. The other one, help me. The car is beyond winching now, but there’s still time to save a few more things.’
In a daze, Sera allowed herself to be guided to the blissfully cool air-conditioned car, where the first aid kit was accessed. ‘I’m sorry to cause so much trouble,’ she said to the man as he tended her wound, but he merely shrugged philosophically, as if there was nothing unusual in a woman going crazy and causing mayhem in the desert.
Her actions had lost them a vehicle.
She’d lost them hours of daylight.
And somewhere along the line she seemed to have lost a grip on herself.
It must be a kind of crazy, she thought, wincing as his fingers prodded at her head. A few short hours ago she’d been perfectly content with her life, or at least as content as someone with her past could hope to be. She had a role at the palace with a woman who understood, and she performed her duties well. She was quiet. Thoughtful. Responsible.
Until Rafiq had returned and her world had been turned upside down. Who was she that she could forget who she was so easily? That she could be swept away on this unfamiliar tidal rush of memories and emotion?
She squinted past her carer to where Rafiq was bundling the goods he’d salvaged from the car before she’d jumped. His pale shirt and trousers were smudged with sand, tendrils of his dark hair clung damp against his brow and his features were set. Even under the hot sun, his eyes had returned to their glacial blue.