GIVEN TO THE PRINCE

Part 21

Rashid cursed himself, the stubborn she-camel in his sleeping quarters, and everything else connected to his wedding day. How could one pocket-sized woman do what no man had dared? In the matter of a few hours, she'd insulted, humiliated, defied, and attacked him. Instead of relaxing in quiet luxury with his bride, he was walking a dirty, stinking tarmac in the middle of the night. 

Both hands reached to massage the corded muscles in his neck. Squeezing his eyes shut, he summoned the rigid discipline he valued. Control and direction were principles taught by his father. Self-discipline and strength-of-will were lessons a fifteen-year-old ruler learned by necessity. He would not allow this woman to disturb his balance again. With his mind resolved, tense muscles began to quiver in release. 

The rest of this night would go according to plan--his plan. His powerful gait took him toward the waiting aircraft where he found Califar and his two bodyguards loitering at the bottom of the stairway.

"Why are you not inside? Is the pilot not ready to leave?" 

With a wry expression, Califar answered. "My lord, there is a small problem in the cabin. The noise level is...perhaps you would like to hear for yourself?" 

Rashid took the stairs two at a time. Identifying the source of the problem didn't take long. The verbal tirade echoing through the lounge came from his private compartment at the rear of the plane. 

"Let me out of here! I'm an American citizen and this is kidnapping. I'll have you all arrested and executed for this! I'm warning you, Califar. You tell that unscrupulous, deceitful, desert creep to get back here and let me go!"

Rashid took a step forward and then paused. The sudden cessation of verbal ranting more unnerving than the previous clamor. The pregnant silence made the hairs on his arms stand erect. With this woman, he was certain the calm was a precursor to worse atrocities. He hoped he was wrong and she had exhausted her vile temper instead. 

The thud of a solid object slamming against the other side of the door ridiculed his supposed control. He yanked off his robe and headdress. Slinging them toward the back of a chair, he barked a command to his two bodyguards. "Give the pilot orders to depart...NOW!" 

Both went forward to deliver the message, almost jamming the small doorway in their attempt to pass through at the same time. He didn't find humor in the speed with which they fled one loud, but small woman and wondered about the quality of his personal security. 

Spearing Califar with a glacial look, he motioned him forward. "You will ignore any sound you hear from the other side of that door. Understood?" 

"May I speak frankly?" 

Rashid stiffened. "If you must." 

"This woman you've made your wife is a stranger to you and to our customs. These are extreme circumstances for her. Despite her less than respectful manner, she is still deserving of the gentle persuasion you always accord the women in your life." 

"Are you telling me how to treat my wife?" Rashid lashed in reply. 

"As your servant--never," replied Califar. "As your friend, however, I offer a reminder. Guard well your actions this night and remember with what care you have always protected what is yours."

"I will deal with the princess in whatever manner suits me," he said cold and exact.

"As you say," Califar tipped his head in deferential acceptance and changed the subject of conversation. "Do you wish to proceed directly to the palace upon our arrival?" 

"No! Call ahead. Set up camp at the Oasis of the Moon. Invite the tribesmen of Toraq and Baltazar to join us. We still have unfinished business to settle." 

"And the Princess?" asked Califar.

Rashid narrowed his eyes and stared at his hands as he clinched his fists. "The Princess will most definitely accompany me." 

"I will make the preparations as you ask."

"Most definitely," Rashid muttered with a brooding frown. His willful wife would learn what generations of women in his country had always known. A woman needed the protection and leadership of a man whether she lived in a Bedouin tent, a New York penthouse, or the Royal Palace of Ahalamin. 

A movement under his feet signaled that his pilot had begun his approach to the runway. The rising level of his wife's voice as she renewed her threats indicated her awareness as well. If she did not cease soon she was going to make herself sick. 

Striding forward, he unlocked the door, swung it open, and then slammed it shut behind him. "Silence!" 

His startled wife lept backward and stood motionless. Rashid surveyed her surroundings. Anything not bolted down had been used as a battering ram. The inner panel of the door, damaged beyond repair, would require a complete replacement. 

His wife looked no better. Head to foot, she was covered in dirt and oil. Her robe lay in a heap by his feet. The wet, transparent fabric covering her legs clung revealingly. Her headpiece sat askew and the tapering veils hung heavily to one side. 

She should have been repulsive, but in fact, no woman had ever been more beautiful or provocative. The brown streaks on her cheeks accentuated their ivory perfection. Her moist lashes framed eyes weary from struggling against the inevitable. He wanted to lay her down, to caress away the fatigue, kiss away the fear, and awaken her desire. His frustration and anger, now partnered with the heat of sexual arousal, leaving him stunned and powerless in its grip. 

He craved two things. He wanted her...and, he wanted her willing. His head reared back as a groan of pure frustration forced its way up his throat. He could sooner shift the desert sands than induce a willing response from the little she-devil in front of him. 

He allowed his gaze to take possession of the pale beauty spitting daggers at him with her eyes. He could take what was his, but the taking would not be nearly enough. He wanted more...much more. He wanted her to know the helpless, agonizing hunger tormenting him. He wanted to dominate her every thought, as she did his. The conquest would test the limits of his control, but he would have this woman on his terms. 

He lifted the corner of his mouth in a confident smile as he watched his wife wrap her arms around her upper body. Glaring at him with the light of battle in her eyes, she waited for his next move. 

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If you were Victoria, what would be going through you mind?

Have you formed an opinion of Rashid yet. What kind of man do you think he is?

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