“Hafiz, we’re outside,” Lacey reminded him, her voice hitching with scandalised excitement. “You shouldn’t be this close.”

He knew it, but it didn’t stop him. She was his one and only vice, and he was willingly addicted. He had already risked everything to be with her. Each day he made the choice to risk everything for her. But now the choice had been taken away from him, and it was all coming to an end.

He bent his head and stopped abruptly. He should pull away. Hafiz remained still as he stared at Lacey’s mouth. Their ragged breathing sounded loud to his ears. One kiss could bring him peace or could set him on fire. One kiss would lead to another.

ROYAL AND RUTHLESS

The power of the throne, the passion of a king!

Whether he is a playboy prince or a masterful king he has always known his destiny: Duty—first, last and always.

With millions at his fingertips and the world at his command, no one has dared to challenge this ruthless royal’s desire … Until now.

More Royal and Ruthless titles:

Kate Walker

A THRONE FOR THE TAKING

Caitlin Crews

A ROYAL WITHOUT RULES

Kim Lawrence

THE HEARTBREAKER PRINCE

Prince Hafiz’s Only Vice

Susanna Carr

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SUSANNA CARR has been an avid romance reader since she read her first Mills & Boon® Modern at the age of ten. Although romance novels were not allowed in her home, she always managed to sneak one in from the local library or from her twin sister’s secret stash.

After attending college, and receiving a degree in English Literature, Susanna pursued a romance-writing career. She has written sexy contemporary romances for several publishers and her work has been honoured with awards for contemporary and sensual romance.

Susanna lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family. When she isn’t writing she enjoys reading romance and connecting with readers online. Visit her website at: www.susannacarr.com

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To Sarah Stubbs,

with thanks for her guidance and encouragement.

Contents

Cover

Excerpt

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

HER LOVER’S PICTURE was on the front page of every paper in the small newsstand.

Lacey adjusted the dark sunglasses that concealed her bright blue eyes and squinted at the newspaper on display. Although the headline was in Arabic, the print was big and bold. She could tell that something important had happened. Something that could explain the jubilant attitude that shimmered in the marketplace. No doubt Prince Hafiz had made his countrymen proud again.

She wondered what he had done this time as she requested the daily English paper in halting Arabic. Did he add a fortune to the royal coffers? Convince another industry to make the Sultanate of Rudaynah their headquarters? Win an award?

She decided it would be best to wait until she got home before she read the paper. Lacey took another glance at the pictures of Hafiz that covered the stall. His expression was solemn, but it didn’t stop the secret thrill sweeping across her heated skin. It was unnerving that Hafiz could elicit that kind of response through a photograph.

The photo was an official head shot the palace systematically offered to the press, but while the image was familiar, it always grabbed the reader’s notice. No one could look away from Prince Hafiz’s mysterious dark eyes and harsh mouth. He was devastatingly handsome from his luxuriant black hair to his sharp bone structure. Women watched him from afar, too awed of his masculine beauty.

Or perhaps they sensed his raw power beneath his sophisticated manners. Lacey had instantly recognized the sexual hunger lurking below his ruthless restraint. His primitive aura was a silent warning that most women heeded. But for Lacey, it drew her closer.

She had found Hafiz’s relentless self-discipline fascinating. It had also been a challenge. From the moment they had met, she had been tempted to strip him from his exquisitely tailored pinstripe suit and discover his most sensual secrets.

Just the thought of him made her impatient to get back home. She needed to return before Hafiz got there. His workload would crush a lesser man, but he still managed to visit Lacey at nightfall.

The blazing sun began to dip in the desert sky, and she didn’t want to contemplate how Hafiz would respond if she weren’t home.

He never asked what she did during the day, Lacey thought with a frown. At first his lack of interest had bothered her. Did he think time stood still for her until he appeared?

There were moments when she wanted to share her plans and ideas, even discuss her day, but she had always held back. She wasn’t ready to reveal the work she had done. Not yet. Lacey wanted to show Hafiz what she was capable of. How she could contribute. She wanted to show that she was ready to make his sultanate her permanent home.

It hadn’t been easy. There were days, weeks, when she had been homesick. Lonely and bored. She had missed her wide circle of friends and colorful nightlife, and she craved the basic comforts.

It was aggravating that the newspaper hadn’t been delivered today at her penthouse, but that wasn’t surprising. After living in the small Arabian country for almost six months, Lacey still hadn’t gotten used to sporadic service, frequent power outages and laborers arriving at work anywhere from three hours to three days late.

Her connection to the outside world was just as erratic. The communication services were usually down, like today. When they were running, the content was heavily censored.

Definitely not the lifestyle she had enjoyed in St. Louis. Not that she was complaining, Lacey hurriedly assured herself. She was willing to forego many comforts and conveniences for the one thing she couldn’t get back in the States: Hafiz.

Lacey shivered with anticipation and handed the coins to the newspaper boy. She practiced her Arabic and felt a sense of accomplishment when the young man understood her. Lacey shyly tugged at the bright orange scarf wrapped around her head and tucked in a wayward strand of hair.

Maybe she was ready to show Hafiz what she had learned over the past few months. She wasn’t fluent and didn’t know everything about the culture, but she was getting impatient. It was time to meet his family and friends.

Lacey bit her lip as she imagined making that demand. The idea made her uncomfortable. She had been stalling. Not because his family was royal but because she was worried she would push too soon.

Lacey didn’t want to give an ultimatum. The last time she’d taken a stand she had lost everything. She wasn’t ready to lose Hafiz. Unlike her parents, who had no problems walking away from her in pursuit of their dreams, Hafiz hadn’t been able to bear leaving her and had brought her to his home. Well, not his home, but his home country.

As much as she wanted to be part of Hafiz’s life and share her life with him, she needed to be patient. She had to trust that Hafiz knew what he was doing. Lacey sighed deeply. She wasn’t used to allowing another to take charge.

But she was in a country that followed different codes of conduct. She was also in love with a prince, and she didn’t know much about royal life. Her presence in Hafiz’s world required delicacy.

Lacey was amazed that Hafiz could even breathe among all the rules and regulations. But not once did he complain. His strong shoulders never sagged from the burden. The man was driven to attack every challenge and reach a goal he never discussed, but Lacey guessed that world domination was just the beginning. His obligations were never far from his mind. That is, until he was in bed with her. Then the world stopped as they fulfilled every fantasy their bodies craved and every wish their hearts desired.

Pleasure nestled low in her stomach, beneath the stifling black gabardine caftan. Lacey stuffed the English newspaper into her plastic shopping bag that contained the crimson desert flowers. She hoped the article offered good news, although she couldn’t imagine the press saying anything less than flattering.

She hurried off the curb, and the blowing horn of a filthy truck had her jumping back to the sidewalk. Reddish clouds billowed from the dirt road and settled into a fine layer on her soft black boots.

She waved her hand in front of her face, blinking away the grit. Lacey wrinkled her nose at the tart smell of animals, car fumes and rotting sewage. She knew the small country just recently came into wealth, but if this was a decade of progress, she was grateful she hadn’t seen the unenlightened country.

A memory flickered of Hafiz talking about his country when they had first met. He’d spoken with love and pride about the rich heritage and romance of the desert. Hafiz had described the tribal music and the exotic spices lingering in the starry nights. When he’d told the story of how the sultanate had been named after the first sultana, Lacey had thought Rudaynah had to be a romantic paradise.

Never trust a man’s idea of romance, Lacey decided as she determinedly stepped into traffic. The high-pitched ring of bicycle bells shrieked in her ears as she zigzagged her way across the street. She dodged a bored donkey pulling a cart of pungent waste matter. A bus whipped past, her plastic bag swatting against one of the male passengers hanging outside the overcrowded and rusted vehicle.

Lacey hurried to her apartment in earnest. Shadows grew longer and darker as the sun dipped precariously closer to the horizon. She nodded a greeting to the armed guards at the gates of the condominium complex. The men, all in olive green uniforms and sporting bushy mustaches, waved her in without a pause in their conversation.

She scurried across the bare courtyard, pausing only as a big insect with a vicious-sounding buzz flew in front of her. Gritting her teeth as she shuddered with revulsion, Lacey turned the corner to access the private elevator that would lead her straight to the penthouse apartment.

She halted when she saw a man waiting for the elevator. Lacey barely had time to gasp as her mind snatched a flurry of disjointed images. A white flowing robe. A golden chord over the white kaffiyeh that covered his hair. She didn’t need to see the man’s face to sense the impenetrable wall of arrogant masculinity. Of power and privilege. There was only one man who enjoyed a life with no limitations or impossibilities.

“Hafiz?” she whispered.

* * *

Prince Hafiz ibn Yusuf Qadi whirled around. “Lacey?” He moved forward and stared at her. He slowly blinked and frowned. His sexy and glamorous mistress was wearing a shapeless caftan and a hideous scarf. There wasn’t a hint of makeup on her pale face, but she was still a stunning beauty.

“What are you doing down here?” Prince Hafiz plucked off her sunglasses. He needed to see her eyes. He could always tell what she was thinking and feeling when he met her bright blue gaze.

After he snatched the glasses, Hafiz pushed down the head scarf and was rewarded with a cascade of copper-red curls. His fingers flexed. He wanted to touch her hair. Fan it out and allow the last rays of the sun to catch the fiery color. Sink his fingers into the soft weight as he kissed her hard.

Instead, he slowly, reluctantly, let his hand fall to his side. He gripped her sunglasses until the tips of his fingers whitened. He could not touch her. Not here, not in public. One graze, one brush of skin, and he wouldn’t stop.

It didn’t help that Lacey wanted to greet him with a kiss. The sight of her closed eyes and parted lips whirled him back to the first time he’d seen her. That fateful night he had entered the luxury hotel near the St. Louis waterfront.

The lobby had bustled with activity and there was a piano bar to the side. The deceptively languorous music had caught his attention, but it was her singing that had made him turn around. Soft and clear like the voice of a well-bred lady, but so rich and velvety that it sparked his wicked imagination.

And when he had seen her, his heart had slammed against his ribs. Lacey was an intriguing mix of contrasts. She had looked like an innocent girl, but her voice held a wealth of experience. Her red hair had flowed past her shoulders like a veil, touching the simple blue evening gown. It should have been a modest dress that covered her from her slender neck to her delicate ankles, yet it had lovingly clung to every curve.

Hafiz had known she was trouble, but that hadn’t stopped him from walking toward the piano as she’d coaxed a longing note from the ivory keys.

She hadn’t seen his approach as she closed her eyes and raised her flushed face to the sky, swept away from the music. And he had allowed her to take him with her.

Hafiz forced himself to the present and away from the untroubled past. His gaze drifted to the voluminous black gown veiling her body from his eyes. For some reason, that irked him. “What are you wearing?”

She opened her eyes and frowned before she placed her hands on her hips. The movement gave him some indication of where the soft swells and curves were underneath her outfit. “I could ask the same about you,” she said as her wide eyes roamed over his appearance. “I have never seen you like this. It’s straight out of Lawrence of Arabia.”

Lacey’s voice was deep and husky as the desire shone in her eyes. When she looked at him like that... His skin flushed and pulled tight. How did this woman make him this hot, this fast, without even touching him?

His body hardened, and he gulped in the hot desert air. He could take Lacey against this hidden corner and capture her cries of ecstasy with his mouth within minutes. All he needed was... Hafiz shook his head slightly. What was he thinking? The last thing he needed was for the sultan to discover he had a mistress living in the shadow of the palace.

“This is a dishdasha,” he explained gruffly as he tried to contain the lust that heated his blood. “I wear it for royal functions. Now explain what you are doing outside alone.”

She held up her plastic bag and lightly jostled the contents. “I went shopping.”

“Shopping,” he repeated dully.

“Yes, I wear this whenever I leave the apartment.” She glided her hand down the black gabardine with the flair of a game show model demonstrating a prize. “I know Rudaynah only asks tourists to dress modestly, but I don’t know if I fall in that category. I’m not quite a tourist, but I’m not quite a resident, am I? I didn’t want to take any chances.”

Hafiz barely heard the question. Whenever she left? She had done this more than once? Routinely? What did she do? Where did she go? And with whom?

It wouldn’t be with a man. He knew he could trust Lacey. She had fallen in love with him that first night and saw no reason to deny it.

But he didn’t like the possibility that she had a life apart from him. He was the center of her world, and he didn’t want that to end. “Whenever you leave?” he asked as his eyebrows dipped into a ferocious frown. “How often do you go out?”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Lacey’s smile dropped. “Or are you worried that one of your friends or relatives will meet me?”

Hafiz heard the edge in her tone and felt her impatience. He surrendered to the need to touch her and delve his hands into her hair. He needed to feel the connection that sizzled between them.

Hafiz spanned his fingers along the base of her head and tilted her face up. “I thought you spend your days playing your music,” he murmured distractedly.

“And dreaming about you?”

“Of course,” he said with a slanted smile.

Her smooth brow wrinkled as she considered what he said. “I can think of you while I’m shopping. I’m talented that way.”

“No.” His sharp tone stanched any argument. “No more excursions. You don’t know the language or the country.”

“How else am I going to learn if I don’t get out and—”

“You have servants who can shop for you. Yes, yes.” He held his hand up as she tried to interrupt. “You’ve already told me. You’re not comfortable with the idea of someone waiting on you. But they are here to take care of you.”

“You can’t hide me inside all the time,” she insisted as she pressed her hand against his chest. His heart thudded from her touch. “I’m not Rapunzel.”

“I know,” he said resignedly. She often mentioned that European fairy tale. She once told him the basic story line, but someday he needed to read it in case there was more he should know.

Lacey leaned against the wall and sighed. Hafiz flattened his hands next to her head, her sunglasses dangling from his loose grasp. He stared at her mouth, his lips stinging with the need to kiss her.

But this was as close as he would allow himself. If he leaned into her softness, he wouldn’t leave.

The tip of her tongue swept along her bottom lip. “Hafiz, we’re outside,” she reminded him, her voice hitching with scandalized excitement. “You shouldn’t be this close.”

He knew it, but it didn’t stop him. She was his one and only vice, and he was willingly addicted. He had already risked everything to be with her. Each day he made the choice to risk everything for her. But now the choice was taken away from him, and it was all coming to an end.

He bent his head and stopped abruptly. He should pull away. Hafiz remained still as he stared at Lacey’s mouth. Their ragged breathing sounded loud to his ears. One kiss could bring him peace or could set him on fire. One kiss would lead to another.

As if he were in a trance, Hafiz grazed his fingertips against her brow. He caressed her cheek, wishing it were his mouth on her. Hafiz swallowed hard as he remembered how her skin tasted.

He shouldn’t be with her. No, it was more than that. He shouldn’t want to be with her. Lacey Maxwell was forbidden.

Wanting Lacey went against everything he had been taught. He should only find honorable and chaste women from his sultanate attractive. Yet the only woman he noticed was Lacey.

She was bold and beautiful. Instead of hiding her curves, she flaunted her body. She showed no shame in her desire for him. And instead of trying to tame him, Lacey encouraged the wild streak inside him that he had tried so hard to suffocate.

The sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears as he stroked Lacey’s jaw. She tilted her head, exposing her slender throat. He wanted to sweep his fingers along the elegant column and dip his hand beneath the caftan. He wanted to hear her shallow breaths turn into groans and whispers.

But that would be reckless. Hafiz dragged his thumb against her lips. He traced the shape of her mouth over and over until her lips clung to his skin.

Lacey turned her face away. Hafiz gripped her chin and held her still. With a growl of surrender, he bent down to claim her mouth with his.

“Hafiz,” she whispered fiercely. “We will be seen.”

That warning could form ice in his sizzling veins like no other. His chest rose and fell as he reined in runaway needs. With great reluctance, he drew away.

“We should leave before one of the neighbors spots me,” Lacey said shakily as she pulled the scarf over her head.

Disappointment scored his chest as she tucked her glorious hair away. “I don’t like seeing you covered up like this.” He never thought about how he would feel seeing his woman veiled, but it felt intrinsically wrong to conceal Lacey’s captivating beauty and character.

“Believe me, I don’t like wearing it.” She reached for her sunglasses. “It’s like an oven, but it makes me invisible and that’s all that matters.”

He flashed a disbelieving look. “Lacey, you could never be invisible.”

Her smile was dazzling as she blushed with pleasure. It was as if he had given her the ultimate compliment.

“Take off your scarf,” he insisted in a rough whisper. “No one will see. Everyone will be at prayer.” Hafiz wondered why he resented the scarf and sunglasses so much that he was willing to risk the chance of discovery. He reached for her arm and pulled her close.

“Don’t be too sure. Most people acted like they were ready to celebrate tonight. I don’t know why—” The plastic bag fell from her wrist. She bent down to retrieve the contents, and he followed her descent. Her sharp cry startled him.

“Lacey?” He looked down at the cracked cement floor and didn’t understand what was wrong when he saw the dark red flowers resting unblemished on the floor. He almost missed the English newspaper with his picture on the front page. The bold headline grabbed him by the throat and hurtled him into despair.

Prince Hafiz to Marry

CHAPTER TWO

LACEY STARED AT THE engagement announcement. Her mind refused to comprehend the words. “Marry?” she whispered. Her wild gaze flew to Hafiz’s harsh face. “You’re getting married?”

She waited in agony as he rose to his full height. He looked very tall and intimidating. Almost like a stranger.

Lacey didn’t realize she was holding her breath until he answered. “Yes.”

The single word sent her universe into a spiral. “I don’t...I don’t...” She stared at the headline again, but the pain was too raw, too intense. She hurriedly stuffed the newspaper and flowers back into the bag.

Her hands shook as the rage and something close to fear swirled inside her. Fear of losing everything. Pure anger at the thought of Hafiz with another woman. The fury threatened to overpower her. She wanted to scream at the injustice and claw at something. Stake her claim. Hafiz belonged to her.

“You have been with another woman.” She couldn’t believe it. “All this time, you were with someone else.”

Hafiz’s eyes narrowed at the accusation. “No. You have been the only woman in my life since I met you in St. Louis a year ago.”

She was the only woman, and yet he was going to marry another? Lacey fumbled with her sunglasses and tossed them in the bag. “Then how are you...I don’t understand.”

He braced his feet a shoulders’ width apart and clasped his hands behind his back, preparing for battle. “I met the bride today and she agreed.”

Lacey’s mouth gaped open. “You just met her?” She snatched the flicker of hope and held on tight. “So, it’s an arranged marriage.”

Hafiz let out a bark of humorless laughter. “Of course.”

“Then, what’s the problem?” She moved slowly as she stood. Her arms and legs felt limp and shaky. She lurched as she stepped on the hem of her insufferable caftan. “Say that you won’t get married.”

He looked away. “I can’t.” Regret tinged his voice.

Lacey wanted to stamp her foot and demand a better answer, but she knew she wouldn’t get it. Not with his shuttered expression and the regal tilt of his stubborn chin. “It’s not like you’re the crown prince,” she argued, “although I don’t understand that since you’re the oldest son. But this means you have more freedom.”

Hafiz’s eyes closed wearily for a brief moment. “For the last time, the sultan chooses the next in line for the throne. My father chose my brother. And, no, I don’t have any freedom in this matter, even though I will never rule. In my case, I have less.”

She didn’t want to hear that. Thick emotions already clogged her aching throat. “You should never have agreed to marry this woman,” she said as her voice wobbled.

He turned his attention back to her. “I gave my consent,” he said gently. “I can’t take it back.”

What about the promises he made to her? The ones he made first. The ones about how they would be together. Didn’t those promises matter? Didn’t she matter?

“Why did you agree in the first place?” She held the plastic bag to her chest. She would rather hold on to something solid and strong like Hafiz until the emotional storm passed, which would still leave her feeling battered and stinging with pain, but he would prevent her from breaking. “You should have refused.”

“I couldn’t this time.” Hafiz winced the moment he revealed too much. He pressed his lips into a straight line.

Lacey stared at him with open suspicion. “This time?” she echoed. “How long have you been looking for a wife?”

“Could we not discuss this here?” he bit out tersely. “Let’s go back to the apartment.” He guided her to the elevator, keeping a firm hand on her arm as she still weaved from the unpleasant shock. He pressed the call button, and she watched as if her life depended on it, but her brain couldn’t register the simple, everyday action.

“Marry,” she repeated and shook her head. “I don’t believe this. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I am telling you.” He kept his eyes on the descending lighted floor numbers.

“Now. After everything is settled.” She couldn’t be bothered to hide the accusation in her voice.

He spared a glance at her. “Not quite, but it is official as of this morning. I wanted to tell you before you found out from another source.”

That explained the missing newspapers. “How considerate.” She felt his start of surprise from her bitter sarcasm, but she didn’t care. Hafiz was getting married. To someone else. The knowledge stabbed at her heart. It was a wonder she didn’t break from the piercing force. “When is the wedding taking place?”

“After Eid.” His answer was almost swallowed by the clank and thump of the arriving elevator.

Eid. That holiday came after the month of Ramadan, if she recalled correctly. She remembered something being mentioned in the paper about that coming soon. “Three months?” she made a guess.

He held the sliding metal doors open for her. “More or less.”

Lacey walked into the elevator compartment, her head spinning. Three months. She only had three months with Hafiz.

What was she thinking? She had no more time left. Oh, God. She wasn’t strong enough to handle this. She was going to shatter from the pain. Hafiz was an engaged man. Off-limits. And she never had any warning.

Her mouth suddenly felt dry as she instinctively pressed the burgeoning wails and sobs into silence until they were ready to burst from her skin. “You should have told me you were looking for a wife.”

“I wasn’t. I have no interest in getting married. I held it off for as long as possible.”

Lacey reeled back in shock. Hafiz had no interest in marriage? At all? Not even to her? If that was the case, then what had the past six months been about?

“My parents were looking for a wife for me,” he clarified sternly.

“But you knew they were,” she argued. “You knew this was going to happen.”

Hafiz said nothing and pressed the top floor button several times as the elevator doors slowly shut.

Winning that point of the argument was a hollow victory. “How long have they been looking?” A part of her wanted to know, the other part wanted to deny that any of this was happening.

He stood silently, his jaw tightly clenched. A muscle twitched in his cheek. Lacey thought for a moment he didn’t hear her and was about to repeat the question when he finally answered. “A couple of years.”

“A...couple of years?” She couldn’t possibly have heard that correctly. Lacey folded her arms across her chest. “From the time that you knew me, from the very first time you propositioned me, you were also on the marriage market? And not once did you find the chance to tell me?”

Why would he? Lacey thought bitterly. He hadn’t considered her to be in the running. She was just a bit of fun on the side. A temporary distraction. Oh, she was a fool.

“Marriage negotiations are delicate and complex,” he explained as impatience roughened his words. “It could have taken even longer to find a suitable match.”

Suitable. She sneered at the term. It was a code word for the right bloodline and the right upbringing from the right family. Not a blue-eyed American who was also an unemployed nightclub musician.

Oh, and suitable meant someone who was pure and virginal. She mustn’t forget that.

The injustice of it all flared to new heights. “Not once did you tell me, and yet I dropped my entire life to be with you.” Her voice raised another octave. “I moved to the far-off corners of the earth, to this hell—”

“The Sultanate of Rudaynah is not hell.” His low growl was similar to that of a wild cat ready to pounce.

“—And exist solely for you and your pleasure! And you don’t have the decency to tell me that you’re getting married?” Her eyes narrowed into a withering glare.

He gestured with his hands. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?” She thought now was as good a time as any to rant. She was ready to punctuate her tantrum by throwing her shopping bag at his sinfully gorgeous face. “Calm down! No, I will not calm down. The man I love, the man I sacrificed everything for is throwing it all away right back into my face,” she hissed, her cheeks hot with fury. “Believe me, this is not a time to calm down.”

Hafiz was suddenly in front of her. He made a grab for her, but she raised her hands, warding him off. Lacey fought the urge to burrow her head into his shoulder and weep.

“I am not throwing you away, damn it. How could I?” he asked as his bronze eyes silently pleaded for understanding. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Lacey looked away and tilted her head against the corner. She needed something to lean against anyway as her knees were incapable of supporting her. A buzzing filled her head. She took short, even breaths of the stifling air and blinked back the dark spots.

As the elevator made its slow, rocky ascent, Lacey realized that Hafiz must be equally unnerved by the turn of the events. He had cursed. Another first for the day. Hafiz never, ever cursed. But then, he always controlled the situation and his environment with the same iron will he used over his temper.

Over himself, really. The man never drank alcohol or gambled. He did not live in excess. His sculpted muscles were that of an athlete in training. He barely slept, too busy working to improve the living conditions of Rudaynah. When he wasn’t fulfilling his royal and patriotic duties, he met every family obligation. Even marry his parent’s choice.

The only time he went wild, the only time he allowed his control to slip, was when they were in bed. Lacey winced, and the first scalding teardrop fell.

Tears streamed out of her eyes and burned jagged lines down her hot cheeks. Why had she thought Hafiz was considering a future with her? Not once did he mention the possibility of happily-ever-after. Never did the word “marriage” ever cross his lips.

But the dream had been harbored deep in her heart, secretly growing. It had been incredibly naïve and wrong to think all she had to do was be patient. She thought that if she came here and slowly entered the culture, she would eventually stand publicly by Hafiz’s side as his wife.

Only that dream died the moment Hafiz pledged himself to another. She gasped as the words plunged into her heart. The surrounding blackness she had been fighting back swiftly invaded her mind.

Pledged to another...

The buzzing grew louder and almost masked Hafiz’s shout of alarm.

* * *

“Lacey!” Hafiz caught her as she slid down the wall. He plucked off her scarf, and her head lolled to one side. He supported her head with his shoulder and noted that her unnaturally pale face was sticky with sweat. He patted her clammy cheek with his hand. “Lacey,” he repeated, trying to rouse her.

Her eyelashes fluttered. “So hot.”

He gathered her in his arms. The ill-fitting black gown bunched around her slender figure. “I’ll take care of you,” he promised, holding her tighter. And he would, he vowed to himself, until his last breath. No matter what she thought, he would never cast her aside.

The elevator finally stopped on the penthouse floor. He searched her features, vaguely aware how her curly long hair hung defiantly like a copper flag and her bare legs dangled from the crook of his elbow, exposing her ivory skin for the world to see. If they were caught in this compromising embrace, so be it. Lacey’s safety and comfort were always top priority, but now it was more essential than his next heartbeat, Hafiz decided as he stepped out of the elevator and onto the open-air hallway to the apartment.

The sun was setting. Dark reds and rich purples washed the sky as evening prayers were sung from a nearby loudspeaker. Hafiz kept his eyes out for any potential trouble, but he saw no one strolling the grounds or outside the condominiums across the courtyard. But from the domestic sounds emitting from the neighbors’ homes on the other floors, the situation could change in an instant.

Carrying Lacey to her front door at a brisk pace, Hafiz noted he wasn’t even breathing hard from lifting her. She weighed barely anything. He glanced down at her face and the fragility struck him like a fist.

Not for the first time did he wonder if moving Lacey to Rudaynah had been the best decision for her. Life in hiding had taken its toll. Why hadn’t he seen that before? Or did he not want to see it?

Lacey stirred as if she was acutely aware of his perusal. “I’m fine,” she murmured and tentatively ran her tongue over her parched lips.

“No, you’re not.” He leaned heavily against the doorbell and waited at the iron grille door until the American servant wearing a loose T-shirt and cargo pants came to the door.

“Your Highness! What happened?” Glenn asked as he unlocked the door bolts with economical movements. His craggy face showed no alarm, but his watchful eyes were alert. His body, lean from many years of military training, vibrated with readiness to act on the first command from his employer.

“It’s all right. She fainted from the heat.” Hafiz kicked off his sandals at the door and moved past the older man. “I’ll get her into the shower. Have your wife prepare something very cold and sweet for her to drink.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” Glenn raked his hand over his bristly gray hair. “She said—”

“It’s all right,” he repeated, calling over his shoulder as he made way to the master bedroom. “Lacey has always had a problem following directions.”

“I’m not dead, you know,” Lacey said with her eyes closed. “I can hear every word.”

“Good, because I do not want you venturing outside again without Glenn,” Hafiz said as he stepped into the large room where he spent many hours exploring Lacey’s body and revealing the darkest recesses of his heart. This time the sumptuous silks and oversized pillows didn’t stir his hot blood. He wanted to tuck Lacey between the colorful sheets and not let her out of bed until she regained her vibrancy. “He is your bodyguard and—”

“He is to play the role of my next of kin if any questions are asked because single women are not allowed to travel alone in this country,” Lacey ended in a monotone. She let out a slow, stuttering sigh that seemed to originate from somewhere deep inside her. “I know.”

“Then, don’t let it happen again.” He pushed the bathroom door open with his bare foot. Slapping the light switch outside the door with the palm of his hand, he entered the windowless room now flooding with light.

“It won’t.”

The determination in her voice made him hesitate. He cautiously watched her face as he set her down gently, sliding her feminine curves along his length. For once her expression showed nothing. Her eyes veiled her feelings. Usually her eyes would darken with righteous indignation, glow with rapturous delight and twinkle with every emotion in between. The sudden change in her behavior troubled him.

He wanted to hold her close until he could read her thoughts, but Lacey had other ideas as she moved away from him. “Can you stand on your own?” he asked.

“Yes.” She took another step back and shucked off her cloth boots. The movements lacked her usual energy.

He kept one hand outstretched in case he had to catch her as he started the shower full blast. Hafiz turned his attention on Lacey and quickly divested her of her black caftan.

“Lacey!” His startled hoarse cry echoed in the small room. The sight of her barely-there peach lingerie was a shocking contrast against the conservative cloth. Hafiz’s body reacted immediately. The heavy black material dropped from his fists and flopped on the wet floor.

“What?” She inspected her arms and legs. “What’s wrong?”

He cleared his throat, wishing he could also clear the sharp arousal tightening his body. “You’re supposed to wear several layers of clothes under the caftan.” He unhooked the front closure of her bra, his knuckles grazing her breast. He saw the tremor in his hands. He was acting like a callow youth.

“Are you kidding?” She skimmed the high-cut panties down her legs and kicked them aside. “I would boil alive.”

His gaze traveled as the peach satin landed on the black fabric. The searing image branded in his mind. The way he would look at women in the shapeless caftan was forever changed. He swallowed roughly as he controlled his baser instinct. “What if you had gotten caught?”

“No one would have found out. You are the only person who has shown enough nerve to get that close.” She arched her eyebrow in disapproval.

And he was going to keep it that way. “Here, get under the water.” He pulled her to the showerhead.

“Oh! Ow!” Lacey squealed in dismay as the icy cold spray hit her body. She jumped back and rubbed her hands over her arms. “This is so cold.”

“You’ll get used to it in just a minute,” he replied as he always did to her comments on the lack of heated water. The familiarity calmed him while her beaded nipples made his brain sluggish.

“You can leave now,” she said through chattering teeth. She looked away from him and tested the temperature by dipping her foot in the cold water.

He leaned against the door and folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t want you passing out in the shower.”

“I won’t. Now go before your royal gown gets soaked.” She shooed him away with her hands.

She had a point. The bathroom, already hot as a sauna, was in the traditional Rudaynahi design, with the exception of a European commode. The concrete floor had a drain and was also to be used as the shower floor. Since there was no plastic curtain or glass shower door, the water was already spraying every inch of the bathroom.

“If you’re sure,” Hafiz said and flashed a wicked smile. “But I can just as easily take it off.”

She glared back at him. “I’m sure.”

His smile turned wry at her ungracious rejection. He shouldn’t have made the offer. He knew that but went for it anyway. “I’ll be outside,” Hafiz said. Lacey didn’t respond as she stuck her head fully under the spray.

He stepped out of the bathroom and almost collided with the housekeeper who carried a small tray into the bedroom. The tall frosty glass of juice rattled against a plate of figs and dates.

“How is she doing?” Annette asked as she set the tray on the bedside table. “Do we need to call a doctor?”

“No, she’s not sick.” The uncertain look of the older woman irritated him. If he truly felt Lacey needed medical care, he would call the American doctor who’d already discovered that cashing in favors from a prince was worth more than any currency in a country that relied heavily on the bartering system.

The physician was brilliant and up to date on medicine. Hafiz had seen that firsthand when Lacey arrived in the country and had drunk water that had not been purified. That week had been torture, and Hafiz was insistent that she was given the best care, no matter what. Hafiz would never place secrecy above Lacey’s well-being, and it stung to have someone silently questioning his priorities.

“She’s overheated,” he explained, keeping the defensiveness out of his voice. “The shower is already doing wonders.”

“We threw away the newspapers like you requested, but we never thought Lacey would leave to get one.” The woman twisted the pleat of her yellow sundress with nervous hands and slid a worried glance at the closed bathroom door.

“It’s no one’s fault,” he said. No one’s but his own. He should have prepared Lacey for the possibility of his wedding, but he’d held on to the hope that his intended bride would have declined the offer. “Please, find something light for her to wear.”

“Of course.” The housekeeper gratefully accepted the task and opened the doors to the armoire, revealing gossamer-thin cotton in every color of the rainbow.

Hafiz walked into the simply appointed drawing room and tried to recapture the peace he always felt whenever he stepped into this home. Decorated with an eclectic mix of wood tables carved in the severe Rudaynahi style and chunky upholstered sofas from the Western world, Lacey had managed to add her upbeat personality with tribal throw rugs and colorful paintings from local artisans.

The apartment was more than a home. It was a haven. It was the only place he felt both passion and peace. The only place in the world he experienced unconditional love.

Hafiz walked slowly to the grand piano that sat in the middle of the room and under the carefully positioned spotlight. It had been incredibly difficult shipping the instrument into the country. Flying in a piano tuner every couple of months was no easy feat, but seeing Lacey’s joy and listening to her soulful music made it all worthwhile.

He fingered the sheet music scattered on the polished black wood. The woman had the talent to become a successful recording artist. Hafiz had told her enough times, but she always shook her head in disagreement. Music was a big part of her, but she didn’t want to be consumed with the ladder of success like her parents, who were still striving for their big break. She didn’t have the desire.

But she stored up all her passion for him. Did that make him feel less guilty in whisking her to his country? The edges of the sheet music crinkled under his fingertips. Because she had no interest in pursuing a career? Because she didn’t have family ties?

Hafiz pondered the question as he walked to the doors leading to the balcony that overlooked the Persian Gulf. He admitted that it made it easier to ask her to drop everything and follow him. To stay in the apartment and wait for him. Not once had she complained or shown resentment until today.

And she had every right. He had risked everything for more time with Lacey. The relationship they had was forbidden. And now, as of today, it was impossible.

Only Hafiz didn’t allow that word in his vocabulary, and he wasn’t willing to let the idea invade his life with Lacey.

“What are you still doing here?” Lacey asked at the doorway on the other side of the long room.

Hafiz turned around. Lacey’s wet hair was slicked back into a copper waterfall. She had changed into a pink cotton caftan that clung to her damp skin. Gold threads were woven into the fabric and sparkled like stars.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, silently watching the housekeeper duck into the kitchen.

“Much. You’re free to go.” She walked toward the front door.

“Lacey, we need to talk.”

“No kidding, but I don’t want to right now.” She gripped the thick door handle. “You have had years to think about this. I have had less than an hour.”

“Lacey—” He crossed the room and stood in front of her, prepared to take the brunt of her anger and soak up her tears.

“I want you to go.” She flung open the door.

Hafiz’s shoulders flexed with tension. Every instinct told him to stay, but he knew what she said made sense. It was strange to have her as the calm one and he filled with impetuous emotions. He didn’t like the role reversal.

Hafiz agreed with a sharp nod. “I will be here tomorrow after work.” He leaned down to brush her cheek with a gentle kiss.

She turned her head abruptly. “Don’t.” Her eyes focused on the hallway outside the iron grille.

His heart stopped. Lacey had never rejected his touch. “What are you saying?” he asked in a low voice as his lungs shriveled, unable to take in the next breath.

The muscles in her throat jerked. “You shouldn’t touch me.” The words were a mere whisper. “The moment you became engaged, the moment you chose another woman, we no longer exist.”

Hafiz grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t mean that,” he said, staring at her intensely. As if he could change her mind through his sheer willpower.

“Yes, I do.”

He swallowed down the rising fear. “Obviously, you are still suffering from your collapse.” The tip of his thumb caressed the angry line of her bottom lip.

Lacey yanked away from his touch. “I’m thinking quite clearly. You made your choice.” She took a step back behind the door, shielding herself from him. “And this is mine.”

“You are going to regret those words. You can’t send me away.” He stepped toward her, ready to prove it.

Lacey’s glare was so cold it could have frozen the desert air seeping into the apartment. “Do you want me to cause a scene in front of this complex to get you to leave?”

Her threat surprised Hafiz. That wasn’t like her. She knew his weak spots but had always protected him. Now she was so angry, she was becoming a dangerous woman.

Would she try to hurt him because he was getting married? No, not Lacey. She was loyal to him...but when she thought she didn’t have any competition. How could he convince her that this marriage was in name only?

He decided to change his strategy. “I will return,” he said, shoving his feet into his sandals. The expensive leather threatened to snap under his angry motions. “And you will be here waiting for me.”

Defiance flared in her blue eyes. “Don’t tell me what to do. You have no right.”

“You still belong to me, Lacey,” he announced as he left. “Nothing and no one will change that.”

CHAPTER THREE

THE WHITE ROBES slapped angrily against Hafiz’s legs as he stormed into his office. He would rather be anywhere else but here. Although the palace’s murky shadows descending on the spartan rooms were good companions to his dark mood this evening.

“Your Highness.” His private secretary clumsily hung up the phone. The withered old man bowed low, his fragile bones creaking. “His Majesty wishes to speak to you.”

Hafiz set his jaw as dread seeped inside him. The day couldn’t get any worse. The sultan didn’t command appointments from his eldest offspring unless there was or would be an unpleasant event.

“When did he make this request?”

“Ten minutes ago, Your Highness,” the elderly man answered, his focus on the threadbare Persian rug. “I called your cell phone and left several messages.”

Of course. He had turned off his phone so he wouldn’t bend to the overwhelming need to call Lacey. His show of confidence that she would follow his orders was going to cost him in more ways than one. Hafiz wanted to roar with frustration, but he needed to stay calm and focused for the sultan.

Hafiz turned and checked his appearance in the gilt-edged mirror. He didn’t see anything Sultan Yusuf would find offensive, but the ruler didn’t need to hunt long for something to disapprove about his son. Unable to delay the inevitable, Hafiz set his shoulders back and strode to the palace offices.

When he entered the sultan’s suite, Hafiz stood respectfully at the double doors and waited to be announced. As one of the secretaries hurried to the massive wooden desk to convey the message to the sultan, Hafiz grew aware of the sideway glances and growing tension. He coldly met the employees’ stares one by one until the gazes skittered down in belated respect.

Sultan Yusuf dismissed his secretaries with the flick of his hand. The men hurried past Hafiz and through the doors. Their expressions of grateful relief concerned him.

The sultan continued to sit behind his desk and read a note on thick white paper. He took his time to deign to acknowledge his son’s presence. “Hafiz,” Sultan Yusuf finally said.

Hafiz approached the sultan. “Your Majesty.” Hafiz gave the briefest deferential nod as defiance flowed through his veins.

The sultan tossed the paper on to his desk. “Be seated.”

The lack of mind games made Hafiz suspicious, which it was probably supposed to achieve. Hafiz sat down on the chair across from the desk. Tradition dictated that he should keep his head down and his gaze averted. He was never good at tradition.

The sultan leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and studied Hafiz. Not even a whisper of affection crossed his lined face. “You are very fortunate that the Abdullah daughter agreed to the marriage.”

Fortune had nothing to do with it. It didn’t matter who his bride was. He was marrying this woman for two reasons. It was his royal duty and it was another step toward redemption.

“This girl knows about your—” the king’s fingers splayed apart “—misspent youth, as does her family.”

Hafiz clenched his teeth and willed his hands to stay straight on his knees. He would not respond. He would not allow his father to spike his temper.

“They will use that knowledge to their advantage as the wedding preparations draw closer. The dowry is not nearly worthy enough for a prince. We’re fortunate they didn’t demand a bridal price.”

Hafiz still said nothing. His teeth felt as if they would splinter. His fingers itched to curl and dig into his knees.

“Have you anything to say, Hafiz?”

He did, but most of it wasn’t wise to say aloud. “I regret that my past mistakes still cost our family.” And his regret was as honest as it was strong. Nothing could erase the suffering he’d caused Rudaynah. The simple truth destroyed him, and his life’s mission was to prevent any future suffering from his hand.

“As do I.” Sultan Yusuf sighed heavily. “The reason I’m telling you this is that I expect many maneuvers from the Abdullah family.” He smacked his lips with distaste as he mentioned his future in-laws. “Any male relative could trick you. Talk you down the dowry. Say you made a promise or agreement when there was none.”

Annoyance welled up inside Hafiz’s chest. From years of practice, his expression didn’t show his feelings. Hafiz negotiated multi-million-dollar deals, brokered delicate international agreements and increased the wealth of this country ten times over. But his family didn’t respect his accomplishments. They only remembered his mistakes.

“You will have no interaction with the Abdullah family,” the sultan commanded. “All inquiries must be directed to my office. Do you understand, Hafiz?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He didn’t have a problem following that order. If that was the purpose of the meeting, Hafiz wondered why the sultan didn’t dictate a memo so he didn’t have to speak to his son.

“After all,” the ruler continued, “your mother and I cannot afford another scandal from you.”

Hafiz closed his eyes as the pain washed over him. He should have seen that coming.

“This marriage must happen.” The sultan tapped an authoritative finger on the desk. The thud echoed loudly in Hafiz’s head. “If the engagement is broken, it will shame this family.”

Shaming the family was his sole specialty. The statement was left unspoken, but Hafiz could hear it plainly in his father’s manner. It wasn’t anything his conscience hadn’t shouted for more years than he cared to remember.

“You’ve already lost your right to the throne because of your poor choices,” Sultan Yusuf said with brutal frankness. “If you harm this agreement, I will make certain you lose everything you hold dear.”

Did his father think he would try to sabotage the wedding agreement? Hafiz was stunned at the possibility. Hadn’t his actions proven he would sacrifice his personal wants for the good of the country?

“But, if you do not cause any delay or scandal—” he paused and sliced a knowing look “—I will give you the one thing you desire.”

Hafiz flinched. His mind immediately went to Lacey. A white-hot panic blinded him. Did the sultan know about her?

“Marry the bride I choose, and you will resume your rightful place. You will become the heir to the throne once again.”

* * *

Lacey’s fingers dragged against the ivory keys of her piano, but she didn’t play a note. She couldn’t. The music inside her had been silenced.

Glenn and Annette had retired hours ago, but she couldn’t sleep no matter how hard she tried. Her body felt limp and wrung out, and her mind craved for oblivion.

What was it about her? Why was she so easy to discard? First her parents and now Hafiz. She didn’t understand it.

Lacey always held on to the belief that she would have bonded with her parents if they had taken her on the road with them. They would have remembered her birthdays and special occasions. They wouldn’t have forgotten her all those times or accidentally left her to fend for herself on school vacations. If they hadn’t sent her off to live with distant relatives or family friends, she would have some sort of relationship today with her mother and father.

But now she knew her parents didn’t get the full blame. There was something wrong with her. It didn’t matter how freely and completely she gave her love; she would not get it in return. She was unlovable.

Lacey stood and walked to the balcony doors and peered outside. No lights glowed against the darkness. Outside appeared silent and empty.

If only her mind would quiet down like the town below her. She leaned her head against the glass pane that was now cool from the desert night. The moment Hafiz had left, fragmented thoughts and fears had bombarded her mind. She’d paced her room as unspoken questions whirled through her head. She’d stared numbly at the walls for hours.

No matter how much the housekeeper had tried to tempt her with food, Lacey refused to eat. Her throat, swollen and achy from crying, would surely choke on the smallest morsel. Sustenance meant nothing and she had curled up on Hafiz’s side of the bed. There she had muffled her cries in his pillow when one more minute of living without him became unbearable.

Her mind felt as chaotic as the clothes jumbled inside her suitcase. She packed her belongings, which were pathetically few. It was a mocking symbol of the emptiness of her life before she’d met Hafiz and her barren future without him. Only now she had even less, because she was leaving everything behind along with her heart.

Lacey frowned, trying to hold her emotions together. There were too many things she had to do, like finding a new home.

Lacey pressed the heels of her hands against her puffy eyes. The business of breaking up was beyond her. She needed a fresh start. Somewhere that held no memories. A place where Hafiz couldn’t find her.

Not that he would follow her across the world. He’d made his choice. And it wasn’t her. It was never going to be her.

She didn’t want to know anything about the woman who got to share Hafiz’s life. The one who would wear his ring, bear his name and carry his children in her womb. Lacey blinked as her eyes stung, but she’d already used up her tears.

Lacey twisted around when she heard the key in the lock. Hope stuttered through her exhausted body as Hafiz entered. He halted when he saw her across the room.

“Hafiz.” She instinctively moved toward him like a moth to a flame. “What are you doing here?”

She stared at him, memorizing every detail. He was dressed like a laborer. While the outfit was an unusual choice for a member of the royal family, Hafiz lent a sophisticated elegance to the rough work clothes.

The simple tunic was as black as his short hair. The cotton sluiced down his muscular chest and skimmed past his knees. His jeans strained against his powerful legs as he slid his feet out of scuffed sandals. His high-tech watch was nowhere to be found, but the royal ring gleamed proudly on his hand.

“I wasn’t sure you would be here.” His hands clenched and unclenched the keys.

Lacey guiltily flashed a look in the direction of the bedroom where her bags were packed and stowed away under the bed. “And you’re checking up on me?” she asked as her eyebrows arched with disbelief. “You could have called.”

“No. I came here to say goodbye.” He set down the key with hypnotic slowness. “Tonight.”

She froze as the words pummeled her bruised heart. Tonight? Her chest heaved, and she struggled for her next breath. “Now?”

Hafiz nodded. “I had a meeting with the sultan earlier this evening.” He stared at the keys as though he wanted to snatch them back. “If any of my actions prevent the forthcoming marriage, I will lose everything.”

“Your father threatened you?” she whispered in horror.

“The sultan warned me,” he corrected. “And I can’t help but wonder if he knows about you. Maybe not your name or where you live, but that I have someone like you in my life.”

Someone like you... The phrase scratched at her. What did that mean? More importantly, what did it mean to Hafiz?

She stood in front of him, and placed her hand on his arm, offering him comfort. Not that he needed it. Hafiz had the strength to stand alone. “You shouldn’t be forced to marry someone you don’t love.”

Her words seemed to startle him. “Lacey,” Hafiz said in a groan as he cupped her cheek with his hand. “A royal marriage never has anything to do with love. It has always been that way.”

She closed her eyes as she leaned into his hand, knowing it would be the last time he would caress her. She gathered the last of her self-discipline and withdrew from his touch. Energy arced and flared between them.

“I will miss you, Hafiz,” she said brokenly as her throat closed up. The tears she thought couldn’t happen beaded on her eyelashes.

Hafiz let out a shuddering breath. He swept his fingertip against the corner of her eye, taking her tears with him. The moisture clung to his knuckle, and he rubbed it into his skin with his thumb, silently sharing her agony.

The image took a chink out of her hard-earned resolve. Lacey wrapped her arms around her stomach before she crumbled altogether. “I had so many questions to ask you, and now I can’t remember what they were.” All except for one that danced on her tongue. “Did you ever love me?”

Silence throbbed in the air.

Lacey blinked at the question that had tumbled from her mouth. Of all the things to ask, her mind screamed.

Hafiz went unnaturally still.

“I don’t know why I asked.” She shrugged as her pain intensified. “Please, don’t answer that.”

The words were ripped from deep within her. She desperately wanted to know the answer. She never questioned it before, but she had been living in a fantasy.

Lacey had always felt Hafiz loved her. It was in his touch, in his eyes, and in his smile. But he never said the words, even when she chanted her declaration of love in the height of ecstasy.

It was too late to find out. If he didn’t love her, she would never recover. If he did love her, then she would never let go. Even if he was married, even if he kept her hidden. And she couldn’t let that happen.

Hafiz frowned. “Lacey...”

“Ssh.” She silenced him by pressing her fingers against his parted lips. “Please.”

He covered her hand with his and placed soft kisses in the heart of her palm. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said against her skin.

“Then, come away with me!” She impulsively tangled her fingers with his and pulled him away from the door. His torn expression shamed her. She drew back and let go of his hand. “I’m sorry. That was wrong.”

He moved swiftly and crushed her against him. “I can’t leave Rudaynah,” he whispered, his breath ruffling her hair. “And you can’t stay. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I’m only half alive when you are not around.”

He didn’t want to give her up, but he had the strength to do it when she wanted to ignore the inevitable. Hafiz would flourish without her while she wilted into a slow death. “In time, you’ll forget all about me.”

He tightened their embrace. “How can you say that?”

“You will,” she predicted with a sigh. It happened to her before, and nothing she did would stop it from happening again. “You need to leave.” Now, before it became impossible. Before she threw herself at his feet and begged him to stay.

“Yes.” He gradually relaxed his hold but didn’t let go. “This was already a risk.”

She looked up into his face. The scent of the desert night clung to his warm skin. The steady and strong beat of his heart pounded under her hand. The passion he felt for her shone in his eyes. This was how she wanted to remember him. “Goodbye, Hafiz.”

He lowered his face and gently brushed his mouth against hers. Like Lacey, he kept his eyes open, needing to commit this last kiss to memory. The unshed tears in her eyes blurred his image. Lacey’s lips clung to his. The craving to deepen the kiss radiated between them. She felt his need to carry her away and the struggle to leave her behind.

“I have to go,” he murmured against her mouth.

“I know.” The world tilted as he withdrew, and his arms dropped away from her. She felt exposed and weak. A single tear spilled down her cheek. “I wish...” She stopped and bit her lip.

“You wish what?” When she didn’t answer, he grabbed her upper arms with his large hands. “Tell me,” he pleaded, his fingers biting into her flesh.

“No.” She shook her head. She had to be strong and ignore her wants. For both of them. “I wish you...happiness.”

Hafiz shook her slightly until tendrils of her hair fell in front of her face. “That was not what you were going to say. Don’t end this on a lie,” he ordered, agony threading his voice. “Don’t leave me with a half-spoken wish, so that I will go mad trying to figure out what you wanted to say.”

Lacey looked away. She’d ruined the moment, all because she couldn’t let him go. “I can’t.”

“Tell me what you wish,” he said against her ear, teasing her willpower with his husky voice full of promise. “I will make it come true if it’s in my power.”

“I wish we...” She swallowed. Damn her weakness! “I wish we had at least one more night.”

She saw the gleam in Hafiz’s bronze eyes. Her request unleashed something dark and primitive inside him. He wanted to claim her, possess her so completely that she would never forget him. As if she could.

“I can grant you that wish,” he promised as his features sharpened with lust. “Tonight.”

“No.” Lacey shook her head. They had to stop now. If she went to bed with him tonight, she would do everything in her power to keep him there. “We can’t. You are an engaged man. The sultan has warned you—”

“This is my wish, too.” He gathered her close and lifted her in his arms before he strode to the bedroom. “Don’t deny me one more night.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.