Bound to Her Desert Captor Read online

  ‘Can I see?’

  He gestured to her camera and she handed it to him. ‘Go ahead.’

  A lock of hair fell forward over his brow and she let out a sigh at the sudden urge she felt to push it back.

  He paused on the photo she had taken of him with Arrow on his arm, his eyes staring at her.

  ‘I wanted to know what you were thinking when I took that,’ she said, her voice husky.

  He looked up, his eyes intense, and for once she hoped he couldn’t read what was on her mind. It would be beyond embarrassing if he realised she had fallen hopelessly in love with him.

  ‘I don’t remember.’ He adjusted her shemagh and handed her camera back. ‘You’re very good.’

  ‘You don’t need to say that. You’ve already got me into bed.’

  He gave a short burst of laughter at her deadpan comment, hauling her against him for a quick kiss. ‘I never have any idea what you’re going to say next. But I meant it.’

  Regan shook her head. She knew her limitations as a photographer and it didn’t bother her. ‘Which goes to show that the almighty King of Santara doesn’t know everything after all,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’m no Robert Doisneau.’

  His eyebrows rose. ‘Robert Dois—who? Is this someone I should be worried about?’

  Regan laughed. ‘No. He’s a famous photographer from last century. When I was a teenager I became enthralled by a photograph of two lovers kissing on a Parisian sidewalk. It was one he had taken. There’s a magic to it, a sincerity. The couple look so in love...it’s as if they can’t wait to get back home and had to kiss in the street or die.’

  And suddenly Regan realised why she spent so much time photographing couples. They satisfied a deep longing to find the kind of love her parents had shared and which she feared she’d never experience. Unfortunately making love with the King of Santara had created the same longing inside of her.

  She gave a little laugh at the improbability of it all. ‘I’ve always wanted to take photos like that and go to Paris. Neither one has happened yet.’

  ‘Both still could.’

  ‘Paris, maybe. Some day. But photography, no. I’m a teacher now and I love my job. I love inspiring kids to learn, and one of my joys is taking a special photo of them during the year and presenting it to them on their birthday. They love it. And I’m not convinced that being a professional photographer would give me the same level of satisfaction. Oh, look, the hawks are back.’ She shaded her eyes as she watched their majestic antics. ‘Or are they falcons? I can’t tell.’

  ‘Hawks.’ He watched them with her. ‘Falcons are smaller but have a longer wingspan. And falcons grab their prey with their beaks, whereas the hawk uses its talons.’

  ‘Ouch. Fortunately they don’t seem hungry right now. Look, they’re circling each other.’

  She raised her camera and started clicking away right when their talons joined together.

  ‘Oh, wow, did you see that? They’re dancing.’ She couldn’t suppress the smile on her face.

  ‘They’re not dancing, habiba,’ he said roughly, his eyes on her mouth. ‘He wants to mate with her.’

  Regan’s breath caught at the raw, elemental hunger in his gaze as he looked at her.

  ‘Falcons mate for life,’ he continued. ‘And once they’ve established a home they never stray from it.’

  Regan’s throat went thick. ‘That’s so lovely.’

  They both watched the birds skim across the top of the blue lagoon. ‘Now, that looks lovely.’ His hands found her waist and he lowered his head to hers. ‘Come swimming with me.’

  * * *

  Much later Regan lay with her head in his lap, shaded by the huge palm trees bordering the pool, the breeze gently rustling the fronds overhead.

  Jag held a small piece of something or other to her lips.

  ‘Try this—you’ll like it.’

  Regan opened her eyes to look up at him. ‘You have to stop feeding me. I think my stomach is going to burst.’

  ‘Just one more,’ he said lazily, tempting her. ‘You know I like feeding you.’

  Regan felt herself flush with pleasure. Being with him that morning and afternoon had been wonderful and, despite her better judgment, she had let herself soak it up. Let herself soak him up.

  They’d made love twice more, once in the lagoon and then again on the blanket. He’d done things to her that made her body instantly tighten with anticipation but she knew reality would set in again soon.

  ‘What are you thinking about, habiba?’

  ‘You,’ she said honestly.

  He gave a purr of appreciation, his thigh muscle tensing beneath her cheek as he shifted. He prowled over the top of her, his powerful arms and shoulders flexing as he moved. ‘Anything specific about me?’

  She ran her fingers through his hair, loving the way his eyes darkened to almost black as he looked at her.

  ‘That you’re not as scary as I first thought you were.’

  ‘Not as scary, huh?’

  ‘No.’ Happiness surged inside her as he gazed at her with wicked playfulness. ‘You’re like a big domestic pussycat when it comes down to it.’

  ‘Is that so?’ She gave a squeal of delight as he flicked her sarong aside and lightly tickled her ribcage. ‘Want me to show you how much of a pussycat I am?’

  The sensual intent in his eyes was unmistakable.

  ‘Are you sure no one can see us?’ she asked, breathless with longing.

  He nuzzled her breast, tugging her nipple into his mouth. ‘I’m sure.’ He licked her and tortured her until she was a mass of pure sensation. ‘I told you this place is totally off-limits to anyone else.’

  ‘Your own private paradise,’ she husked, reaching to touch him anywhere she could.

  His smile turned sexy as he kissed his way down her body. ‘I think that’s what I might start calling you,’ he murmured, parting her legs so that he could press his tongue high along the inside of her thigh.

  Regan cried out, gripping his shoulders, her insides pulsing with sensual anticipation of his wicked touch.

  ‘My own private paradise,’ he agreed, dipping his head to take her to her own private paradise, and leaving her wondering how she was ever going to get over him.

  What must have been at least an hour later, given the placement of the sun, she woke to find Jag sitting on a nearby rock and staring out at the water. She took a moment to study him, drinking him in so that later, when he was no longer around, she could recall exactly how he looked. The feeling was at once bittersweet and utterly frightening.

  As always, he sensed her eyes on him and turned to her. Their eyes met and for a moment they just stared at each other. Shockingly, the connection between them was almost more intimate than the sex. She blushed, wondering what thoughts were going through his mind, but she was too cowardly to ask. He wanted her; she knew that without a doubt, so she was determined just to enjoy it for what it was.

  He held out his hand to her and a small smile tilted her lips. She loved the way he did that, offered her his hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if she was the most important person in the world to him.

  A rush of emotion made her fingers uncoordinated as she fixed the sarong over her breasts and tried to untangle the knots in her hair formed by his nimble fingers. When she reached him he slowly drew her to him and wedged her between his legs, her back to his front. She felt him bury his face against her hair and breathe deeply. Warmth suffused her and she turned, lifting her face for his kiss, when his phone rang.

  Grimacing with annoyance, he reached around her and pressed the button. Regan heard an outpouring of Santarian and felt the immediate tensing of his body.

  Slowly he disengaged them and strode across the sand. Watching him, Regan knew instantly what had happened even before he turned to her, a
coolness in his eyes when before there had only been heat and need.

  ‘They’re back, aren’t they?’

  He nodded. ‘Time to get dressed.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A HEAVY SILENCE permeated the helicopter ride on the trip back to the palace, making it seem interminable. Jag appeared to be as caught up in his thoughts as she was in hers, neither one of them making any overtures to the other. It was as if the lover she had spent the day with had vanished, to be replaced by the cold man she had met at the bar. Gone was the domesticated pussycat indulging her in endless pleasure by the side of the lagoon.

  A sense of rising dread churned her stomach the further they flew, her feelings divided between wanting Chad to be okay, and concern over what had happened and how that would impact on the man beside her. She wondered if Jag remembered the deal they had struck. She knew that he would honour it. But then what?

  With expert precision the pilot landed on the helipad and Jag jumped to the ground, only absently reaching back to assist her to duck beneath the whirring overhead blades.

  He strode ahead of her up the path towards the rear of the palace, and Regan finally got to experience what it felt like to walk two paces behind him. Or maybe four. Quickening her pace, she barely noticed the decadent scent of the magnolia trees that lined the path, or the velvet dark sky above.

  Jag pushed open a heavy set of doors at the end of a long corridor, his stride not faltering as he strode up to his sister and enfolded her in his arms.

  He held her to him for a long moment. A lump rose in Regan’s throat and then her eyes sought out the other occupant of the room.

  ‘Chad.’ His lanky frame looked as hale and hearty as always and she rushed over and hugged him tightly. ‘I’ve been so worried.’

  Chad hugged her back. ‘Me too.’

  The hairs on the nape of her neck prickled and she turned to see Jag staring at her brother.

  Tension rocketed into the room like an incoming sandstorm. ‘You have a lot to answer for.’

  ‘No.’ Milena placed her hand on Jag’s arm. ‘Don’t blame Chad. It was all my idea.’

  Jag’s thunderous expression returned to Milena. ‘What exactly was all your idea?’

  ‘It’s a long story.’ Milena sighed. ‘And I’m sorry I worried you. I know I did the wrong thing but I felt as if I had no choice. But first...you’re engaged...’ Her lovely eyes fastened on Regan. ‘Is that right? Chad said it wasn’t possible, but you’re wearing the most important family heirloom in the collection, so it must be.’

  Shocked, Regan stared down at the beautiful ring before lifting her eyes to Jag’s, only to find his eyes completely devoid of emotion.

  ‘Regan?’ Chad stared at her hand. ‘How is this possible?’

  Regan shook her head, her brain struggling to keep up with the fact that Jag had trusted her not to lose something so precious.

  ‘There are more important things to discuss,’ Jag cut in coldly. ‘Like, where have you been?’

  Milena’s face went pale as he bellowed at her, clearly unable to handle her brother’s wrath.

  ‘I think we need to calm down first,’ Regan suggested quietly. ‘They’re both safe and home. That’s the most important thing.’

  As well as her getting this ring off her finger and back in a vault.

  ‘Stay out of this, Regan,’ Jag rasped with icy precision. ‘You will not influence how I deal with this.’

  She felt Chad bristle beside her. ‘I don’t think you should speak to my sister that way.’

  ‘I’m not interested in what you think.’ Jag turned his lethally sharp gaze on Chad. ‘And you’re lucky she’s here. If she wasn’t you’d already be in jail.’

  ‘Jag!’ Milena cried.

  ‘One of you had better start talking,’ he grated. ‘And if you have compromised my sister in any way, James, you’ll be sorry you ever set foot on Santarian soil.’

  ‘As you have compromised mine!’ Chad burst out.

  ‘Chad!’ Regan stared at him. As he had grown up he had become as protective of her as she was of him, but she’d never experienced him coming to her defence so avidly before.... ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Don’t I?’ Her brother puffed out his chest. ‘There’s obviously something going on between the two of you. I can tell by the way he looks at you.’

  By the way he looked at her?

  Right now he was looking at her as if she were chewing gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

  ‘What has happened between myself and Regan is not your concern,’ Jag advised with a killing softness. ‘What has happened between you and Milena is.’

  ‘That’s your opinion, Your Majesty, but I can’t believe my sister would be with you of her own free will.’

  ‘Chad, stop,’ Regan implored him. ‘Don’t make this about me. You’ve been gone for two weeks. Of course the King wants answers. So do I.’

  ‘I feel terrible,’ Milena mumbled. ‘This is all my fault. Please, Jag; Chad isn’t to blame.’

  Regan watched him run a hand through his hair, clearly trying to rein himself in for his sister’s sake. Her heart went out to him because she knew why he’d been so worried about her. ‘Why don’t you both sit down and tell us what happened?’

  Chad threw Milena a quick glance but was wise enough not to approach her.

  Milena cleared her throat. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve caused a big mess, Jag, but I couldn’t go into my marriage next month without having some time to myself.’

  ‘You did this for time to yourself?’ Jag thundered.

  ‘No. Not just that.’ Milena looked to Chad for reassurance. ‘I just wanted to feel normal for once. No bodyguards, no photographers, no having to be polite all the time. I know you won’t understand this because it all comes so easily to you, but sometimes I don’t think I know who I am.’

  ‘Milena—’

  ‘No, let me finish,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘Chad and I have grown close over the last few months and...when I told him my plan to take a secret holiday he insisted that he come with me to make sure nothing happened to me.’ She threw Chad a quick smile. ‘I knew it would be a mistake, but I also thought that if you knew I was with a friend you would worry less. I was only hoping you’d find out it was a male friend after we returned.’

  Jag’s expression told her that it hadn’t made an ounce of difference, but Regan heard the note in Milena’s voice that said that she’d been hoping to return in triumph, presumably so that she could prove to her over-protective big brother that she had grown up. Unfortunately such a tactic was likely to have the opposite effect. Milena winced at Jag’s continued silence. ‘I guess not. But please, don’t blame Chad. If anything, you should be thanking him for being there for me. I didn’t even know how to buy a train ticket!’

  ‘I would be thanking Mr James if he had come to me with your hare-brained scheme instead of sneaking off and foiling my attempts to find you. Do you have any idea what would have happened if anyone had got wind of your disappearance? If the Prince of Toran had?’ He paced away from her. ‘It’s only fortunate for us that he expects Santara to take care of all the wedding arrangements. If he’d once tried to call you—’

  ‘I knew he wouldn’t.’

  ‘That’s beside the point.’ Jag turned to stare at Regan’s brother. ‘Tell me, just how close have you become?’

  ‘Not as close as you and my sister,’ Chad ground out.

  ‘Chad, please,’ Regan admonished. ‘Don’t make this worse.’

  ‘How can my stating the obvious make things worse? I’ve been without internet access this past week, and when I reconnected I nearly died seeing photos of you and him together. You’re everywhere in the news, do you realise that?’

  She hadn’t because she hadn’t been given any access to the interne
t herself. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing.’

  ‘Nothing? It’s not nothing. Ask the King.’

  Regan’s eyes flew to Jag’s. He stared back at her and she saw that he knew how big this had become and that he hadn’t cared. The only thing he’d wanted was for Milena to come back and now she had. ‘Chad, it’s not important. I agreed to do it because we both wanted you to return to Santara.’

  ‘You both agreed to what?’ He looked from her to the King and back. ‘To becoming engaged to him? My God. I can see it’s true. Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him for that as well.’

  ‘Chad!’

  Ignoring her, he glared at the King. ‘How could you involve my sister? She had nothing to do with any of this.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re in a position to question me,’ Jag growled softly.

  Before her brother could get any more aggravated and say something really stupid, Regan stepped in. ‘I came to Santara to look for you, Chad. No one forced me to do that.’

  ‘Why? I sent you an email explaining that I would be out of reach.’

  Regan narrowed her eyes. ‘The last time you told me not to worry I got a call from the police precinct to come and bail you out.’

  ‘I was sixteen!’ he exclaimed. ‘And this is a completely different thing.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jag interjected coldly. ‘It’s far worse. And you should be thanking your sister, not haranguing her. If she wasn’t here you’d be in a far worse position than you currently are.’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  Jag turned on him then, using his formidable height and years of authority to silence her brother. ‘No, for a smart man you didn’t think.’

  ‘Chad, please,’ Milena pleaded. ‘It will only make things worse and it’s all my fault.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Chad corrected. ‘It’s that you live under the reign of your autocratic brother, who never takes anyone’s needs into consideration except his own.’