Several clucking women surrounded Amira and she was carried along with them to a tent, bemused by their interest, and more than a little hurt by the stony look she’d seen on Abdullah’s face as he’d turned away.So he regretted their kiss last night. Clearly, and she should regret it too; of course, she should. Kissing Abdullah was a terrible idea. Caring about him was even worse. The trouble was, she couldn’t regret it. She ached with longing for another kiss—and more. For him. She’d come to this desert tribe because she’d wanted to because she wanted to see the people who cared about Abdullah.As she cared about him. More, it seemed, than he wanted her to.Once in the tent, the women fluttered around her like colorful, chattering birds, touching her hair, her cheek, and the clothes she wore that were now grimed with dust and dirt. Amira didn’t understand anything they said, and it appeared none of them spoke either English or Greek, the two languages in which she was fluent. They all

‘Not as many as you’re thinking, and none in the last year. I’ve been too busy with other things.’ And none like you. Untouched. Innocent. Amazing. He couldn’t believe he was seriously thinking about taking Amira up on her offer to make love to her.‘When I said it was dangerous, Amira, I didn’t mean an unplanned pregnancy. I was talking about the...the emotional risks.’She flinched and then recovered her composure. ‘I’m aware of the risk, Abdullah,’ she told him. ‘And I’m not under the illusion that this would be anything but one night. I’m not asking for more from you.’‘I know that.’‘Then what’s the problem?’ He just shook his head, both torn and tempted. Her smile turned flirtatious, even sultry. ‘I suppose I’ll just have to seduce you.’Surprise flared deep inside him, along with an almost unbearable arousal. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ he managed. He knew she wouldn’t have to do much and he would cave completely. He would take her in his arms and lose himself in her k

He could marry her. The thought made everything in him rear up in shocked panic. Marriage had never been on his agenda. Yet ever since he’d seen that serving girl this morning, and realized the repercussions of his night with Amira, the thought had been rattling around in his brain like a coin in a box.He could marry her—marry the woman who was intended as the Sheikh of Jumeirah’s wife. It would help strengthen his claim, stabilize his throne, and it would give Amira what she wanted too.Why not?Because it’s dangerous. Because the emotional risks you warned her about apply to you too.Because you care about her already.Amira had spoken of a cold, convenient union , but would it be like that if he was her husband? Would he be able to keep himself from caring for, even loving, her?Did he even want to?His mind spun and seethed. He felt the clash of his own desires, the need to protect himself and the urge to be with her—care for her.And did Amira even care for him? Just what kin

It had been worth a shot, Amira told herself as she walked back to her tent, escorted by the same men who guarded her. They didn’t speak and neither did she, because she knew she wouldn’t be able to manage a word. Her throat ached and she was afraid that if she so much as opened her mouth she’d burst into tears.Back in her tent she sat on her bed, blinking hard to contain all the pain and hurt she felt. Then suddenly, almost angrily, she wondered why she bothered. Why not have a good cry? Let it all out? No one was here to hear her or think her weak or stupid or far too feminine.She lay down on her bed, drew her knees up to her chest and swallowed hard. Crying—letting herself cry—was so hard. She’d kept everything in for so long because she’d had to. Men like Markos in Muscat were always looking for chinks in her armor, ways to weaken her authority. Shedding a single tear would have been just handing them ammunition. The only time she ever cried was when she had nightmares. In Abdu

AMIRA GAZED OUT of the window of the royal jet at the perfect azure sky and marveled at how quickly things had changed. Just forty-eight hours earlier she’d been sobbing into her pillow, stuck in the middle of the desert with no possibilities and no hope.Now she was flying back to Muscat with Abdullah by her side, planning a wedding in just a few days’ time, and everything was possible.Well, almost everything. She snuck a sideways glance at Abdullah who sat opposite her, his face looking as if it had been chiseled from marble. A deep frown had settled between his brows and his mouth was its usual hard line. He’d barely spoken to her since he’d reconsidered her marriage proposal, a proposal which Amira had wondered more than once whether she should have accepted.Yet in the moment before she’d agreed, when he’d been waiting for her answer, she’d seen a look of uncertainty on his face, almost as if he were bracing himself for a blow. As if he expected her to reject him.That moment of