Midnight in the Desert

Ironically, Raja believed that he knew what his wife wanted from him. After all, almost every decent woman he had ever spent time with had wanted the same thing from him: eternal devotion and commitment and all the empty words and promises that went along with them. At a young age Raja had learned to avoid getting involved with that kind of woman. His mistress Chloe’s unconcealed greed was a great deal easier to satisfy and the main reason why Raja much preferred relationships based on practicality and mutual convenience.

Ruby, however, was very emotional and she would demand more than he had to offer. Ruby would want things that would make him grossly uncomfortable. He looked back down the years to when he had been a student deeply in love for the one and only time in his life. She would want romance and poetry, hand-holding and constant attention and if he even looked at another woman she might threaten to kill herself, he recalled with a barely repressed shudder. He was no woman’s lapdog and, although his father was a noted poet in Najar, Raja secretly hated poetry. He groaned in increasing frustration. Why were some women so difficult? So highly strung and demanding? Her metaphoric cup was half empty but in comparison his was almost full to overflowing. Ruby was a very beautiful and very entertaining woman and he had just enjoyed the most fantastic sex with her. That was enough for him and an excellent foundation for a royal marriage between strangers. He was more than content with what they already had together. Why couldn’t she be content? And how was he to persuade her of the value of his more rational and reserved approach?

On the sofa, which had all the lumps if not the worn appearance of a piece of furniture that had served beyond its time, Ruby tossed and turned. She was stunned that Raja could admit to telling her a barefaced lie. He had agreed to her terms. He had said the words but he hadn’t meant them. Clearly he had been diametrically opposed to a platonic marriage and the first chance he got to change that status quo he had snatched at it.

Just as Ruby had snatched at Raja out in the desert, craving the hot, hard passion of that lean, strong body against hers! Lust, that was all it could have been, and she had given way to that lust and without much of a struggle. It didn’t matter how much she blamed the upsetting circumstances of their kidnapping for what had transpired. In her heart she knew that nothing would ever have happened between them had she not found Raja al-Somari downright irresistible in the flesh.

But it seemed that Raja had made love to her for much more prosaic reasons than mere desire. He had slept with her to consummate their marriage, to make it a real marriage and ensure that she was less able to walk away easily. How much did he really find her attractive? Was it even possible that he was the sort of guy who had set out to bring her down simply because she defied his wishes and expectations? How many women had actually said no to Prince Raja with his fabulous looks and even more fabulous wealth? Had she only made herself an irresistible challenge?

Her eyes prickled with stinging tears of humiliation that rolled slowly down her face in the moonlight that filtered through the windows, which had no curtains. She had never had the power to guess what went on in Raja’s arrogant, dark head. Their confrontation tonight had been an education. He had been a total mystery to her and a dangerously fascinating one at that, she acknowledged painfully.

Possibly she had been overdue for the experience of meeting a man who affected her more than she affected him. Had she got too full of herself? Too convinced she could not be fooled or hurt by a man? She had assumed she could call the shots with Raja and he had just proved that she could not. The guy she had stupidly married was much colder, more astute and ruthless than she could ever be. Raja had manipulated her into doing what he wanted her to do when she slept with him and in doing so he had crushed Ruby’s pride to dust.

Hermione was standing guard over Ruby’s sleep when Raja entered the room soon after dawn. With a snarl, the little dog launched herself at him and he caught the animal. He suffered a bite on his arm before he got the frenzied little dog under control and deposited her outside the suite with a word of command to the guards standing outside to take care of her. Raja then strolled quietly back across the room to study his soundly sleeping wife. She didn’t take up much space on the sofa and she looked achingly young. Below the tousled mane of blonde hair, only her profile was visible. He could see the silvery tear tracks marking her cheek and he cursed under his breath, his conscience pierced afresh. He had screwed up, he had screwed up royally. He should have kept his mouth shut. Lying didn’t come easily to him but the truth had done way too much damage.

Somehow he had to redress that damage and make their marriage work. With no previous experience in the marital department and only a long unhelpful history of unscrupulous mistresses to fall back on, Raja felt unusually weak on the necessary strategy required to make a wife happy. Particularly a wife as unusual as Ruby. An apology would probably be in order. It was not that he had done anything he shouldn’t have done, he reasoned in frustration, more a question of accepting that in her eyes he was guilty and that for the sake of better marital relations he had to respond accordingly. He would buy her something as a gift, as well. Flowers? His nostrils flared and he grimaced. Flowers had the same nauseous effect on him as poetry. Diamonds? He had never met a woman who didn’t melt when he gave her diamonds …

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