Sera, who had never slept with anyone but him before.
A gentle breeze stirred up from the desert sands—a warm, unsettling breeze that whispered around the tent, rustling around the edges and whistling low through the tiny gaps.
Sera slept on—despite the steadily building wind and the flapping of canvas somewhere outside, despite the noises of his own mind that were too loud to let him sleep.
And then the coronation would be upon them, and Kareef would be King. His duty here would be done and he would be free to return to Australia.
Why did that thought suddenly leave him cold? And he looked down at the woman nestled into his shoulder and knew.
It would be justice in a way to leave her cold now that he’d had her. He could walk away, abandon her just as she’d done to him all those years ago. And nobody would blame him.
But he didn’t want that. Whatever this was—this obsession he’d had with her ever since he’d arrived, this need to have her, to possess her—he didn’t want it to end just yet. Maybe he should talk to Kareef. There might be something he could do here, to give him a reason to stay a few days longer. After all, his business was fine. It wasn’t as if he needed to rush back.
Something crashed outside, blown over by the wind, and the woman in his arms stirred, her sleepy eyes blinking in the first grey fingers of dawn. She smiled that secret smile he’d so missed when she saw him, and stretched, pushing deliciously against him as she arched her back.
‘Good morning,’ he growled, kissing her tenderly on her forehead. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Excellent,’ she said, sliding one hand over his belly, her fingers stretched wide. ‘How do you feel?’ And then she encountered him and answered her own question, following it with a short, ‘Oh…’
Not that she took her hand away. For the first time she did a little tentative exploration of her own, while his hardness danced and bucked under her inquisitive fingers. Rafiq was forced to grit his teeth as she tried and failed to complete a circle around him, before deciding that stroking him up and down was a more satisfying option. She flicked her thumb over the moist end and it was his turn to gasp.
‘So smooth,’ she said in awe, her teeth at her bottom lip. ‘Like satin. Do you think…?’
‘Do I think what?’ Rafiq groaned, only a few short seconds shy of forgetting how to think.
Her cheeks flushed dark. ‘I liked it when you flipped me over that time. Do you think it would work if this time I started on top?’
‘I think,’ he said, grinding the words out between his teeth, ‘that would work just fine.’
She straddled him, and the sight of her over him, her breasts firm and dusky, nipples peaked, her black hair in riotous disarray over her shoulders and her gold-skinned body the perfect hourglass, more curvaceous and beautiful than any statue, was nearly enough to bring him undone. She took him in both hands, lifting herself to guide him to her entrance, and he wanted to weep with the pleasure of it.
And then, with a sigh, she slowly lowered herself, and he watched as he felt himself disappear deep into her honeyed depths.
He closed his eyes, using his last remaining brain cell to make a decision while there was still time. He would talk to Kareef. Find any excuse. But he was definitely not leaving Qusay or Sera any time soon.
The return trip to Shafar was uneventful, if you didn’t count the innumerable unspoken messages that passed between Rafiq and Sera, and if you didn’t count the number of times one or other of them found the flimsiest excuse to touch the other, to help locate a wayward seat belt buckle, or to brush a strand of hair from the other’s eyes. She was wearing the sunset-coloured gown today, and the colour suited her even more than last night’s ocean-blue—not that she’d actually worn that one for long. If he played his cards right tonight, and managed to shoehorn Sera out of his mother’s apartments as he intended, this gown would no doubt meet the same fate.
He could hardly wait.
The trip back felt much quicker, and it seemed hardly any time at all before they were through the desert and once again eating up the wide highway as they neared Shafar.
Rafiq would have preferred them to stay another night at the beach encampment, but the dawn wind had blown itself out and come to nothing, and the day that had followed the dawn was still and bright. Besides, the coronation was tomorrow. Missing a state banquet was one thing. Missing his brother’s coronation would be inexcusable. But he wasn’t looking forward to their return. The palace would be heaving with preparations, the walls bulging with visitors and guests, and he cared for none of it. He was pleased for his brother, but he did not really feel part of the celebrations, more an interested onlooker. The only person he really wanted to be with right now was here, in this car, the one who had so aptly labelled him the tourist prince.