A Christmas Bride - By Susan Mallery Page 0,78

bowed. “Prince As’ad, would you please come with me?”

As’ad looked at his host. “Do I trust your daughter?”

Sharif laughed. “As if I know her plans. Zarina, what do you want with the prince?”

“Nothing that will displease him.”

As’ad excused himself and followed her. Night had fallen and the stars hung low in the sky. He thought briefly of his brother Kateb, and wondered when he would next return to the palace. If he came in time, he could attend the wedding. As’ad would like to have all his brothers there for the ceremony. And to point out that he would no longer have to listen to their father’s complaints that they had yet to all find brides.

Zarina wove her way through the tents, pausing at one in the back, almost on its own.

“In here, sir,” she said, holding open the flap. “I wish you a good evening.”

As’ad ducked inside. The tent was dim, with only a few lights. There was an open space covered with rugs, and a pile of cushions in front of him.

“If you will please be seated.”

The request came from a dark corner. He recognized Kayleen’s voice. A quiet tent, seclusion and the company of a beautiful woman, he thought as he lowered himself to the cushions. The evening had improved considerably.

Music began. The melody was more traditional than contemporary, as were the instruments. An interesting choice, he thought, as Kayleen stepped out of the shadows. It was his last rational thought for a very long time.

She wore veils. Dozens and dozens of sheer lengths of fabric covered her body. Yet there were flashes of skin—her waist, her legs, a bit of arm.

Her face looked the same, yet different, with her eyes suddenly dark and intriguing. Jewels glittered from her wrists and her ears; her skin shimmered in the dim light. She was the woman he knew yet a woman he had never known. Even before she began to move, he wanted her.

She moved her arms gracefully. He saw the henna on her skin and dropped his gaze to her bare feet. It was there, as well. The patterns were oddly erotic on her fair skin.

She moved her hips back and forth, turned and a single veil dropped to the rug.

It showed him nothing more. She was too well-wrapped. But when it hit, his chest tightened. Blood heated and raced through him, heading to his groin, where it settled impatiently. The desire was instant, powerful and pulsing.

He knew of the dance, had heard it described, but had never experienced it himself. He’d heard men talk of the power of being seduced in such a way by a woman and had privately thought them weak. But now, as Kayleen danced in time with the music, he knew he had been wrong. There was something primal in her movements, something that called only him.

She turned again and another veil fell.

It was all he could do to stay seated. He wanted to jump to his feet, pull her close and take her. He wanted to be inside of her, feeling her heat, pleasuring them both. Heat grew until he burned. And still she danced.

Her hips moved back and forth, her arms fluttered. This time when she turned, he knew the veil would fall, anticipated it, looked greedily to see more of her. A tug and it fluttered to the ground.

She turned back. He saw a hint of curve, the lace of her bra, and he was lost. He sprang to his feet and crossed to her. After he grabbed her around the waist, he pulled her against him and kissed her.

He told himself to hold back, that she wouldn’t appreciate his passion, but despite his forceful kiss, she met him with the same intensity. She plunged her tongue into his mouth, taking as much as she gave.

Kayleen was shaking, both from nerves and from need. Zarina had been right. Despite her uncertainty, she’d managed to bring a prince to his knees. Or at least his feet, which was just as good.

She’d seen the need in As’ad’s eyes, had watched him get aroused. He was already hard and straining. Even as they kissed, he pulled at the veils covering her, swearing with impatience when one tangled and would not budge.

“How many are there?” he asked, his voice thick with frustration and sexual arousal.

“A lot.”

She reached for his shirt and began to unbutton that.

“Too slow,” he told her and ripped the shirt open, then shrugged out of it. Seconds later he’d removed the