Guarding the Princess - By Loreth Anne White Page 0,89

brought to a head something that has been coming for a long time, Omair.”

Another pause. “I know, I should have told you about my reservations years ago. I just...” She closed her eyes. “I felt I’d done so little, that the marriage was one thing I could offer after you all had given up so much for the future of Al Na’Jar. And I wanted to honor our mother and father. But now I’ve done that, with Brandt’s help—Amal is gone. That war is over. We owe Brandt for that, Omair.”

She was silent while her brother spoke, then, meeting Brandt’s gaze, she said, “I also need to tell you that while he is not the reason I broke the treaty, I have fallen in love with him.”

Brandt stilled, coffee cup clutched tight in his hand.

She said her goodbyes, put the phone down, stared at him.

Brandt carefully put the cup down before his hands started shaking with the pressure building inside him.

“What did Omair say?” His voice came out hoarse.

Emotion pooled like ink in her eyes, and she swiped at a sudden tear. “He said...he understands. He never knew I felt this way, Brandt. Zakir said the same. All this time, all these years...” She brushed another tear away quickly. “I’m sorry. It’s...it’s just such a relief. I finally feel free, like this huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders that I didn’t even realize was there.”

“So he’s not going to send a team of assassins after my ass?”

She smiled through her emotion, came up to him.

“No,” she whispered, taking his hands in hers and leaning her head against his chest. “He said he owes you for this mission. He just didn’t think I was the price you’d exact.” She paused. “I think my brother likes you. I think this is going to work.”

A sweet poignant ache filled his entire body. This thing between them still felt so fragile and he was so worried he’d break it under the strength of his passion for her.

Gently, he tilted her face up to his and whispered, “Are you ready to go home now?”

“Almost,” she said, eyelids lowering. She opened her robe—naked and smooth underneath and rounded in all the right places. Brandt tried to swallow. She wrapped her arms around him, bare breasts pushing against his chest, her nipples tight.

His erection pressed hard and sudden against her pelvis as she drew him backward toward the bed. He bent down, kissed her, and she opened her mouth under his. Warm, the taste of mint.

But as the backs of her legs bumped up against the bed, he pulled back, breathing hard, burning up inside. This was too special. He did not want to take her virginity here in this hotel-room bed.

“Not here, Dalilah,” he whispered, cupping her face. “Not in a hotel.” His voice was hoarse, thick, low.

“Come back with me, to my farm.” He slid his hand down her arm. “I want to make love to you there, in my bed. I want you to sleep in my arms.” He paused. “I promised I’d take you home, Princess—and I never break a promise.”

Chapter 16

The late-afternoon sun coated the bushveldt in yellow gold as their chopper landed on Brandt’s farm.

He carried the bags off the helicopter first, then returned for Dalilah, taking her hand as they ran in a crouch under the whirling blades. He gave a thumbs-up, and the chopper lifted, banking into the sky, then growing smaller and smaller before winking out on the horizon. He placed his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close as they stood together, watching it disappear, their bags at their feet. As the sound faded, the birdsong rose around them in a raucous crescendo.

They were on a rise, and about a hundred yards out a copper-colored stream meandered into a pool of rocks. Beyond the stream was a bush runway and empty airplane hangar. In the distance, Dalilah could see giraffe and a herd of antelope moving. The air on her shoulders was rounded and warm and the sense of peace was almost palpable—no industry, no civilization, for as far as the eye could see.

Dalilah couldn’t believe how exhilarated she felt, or how this had happened. She glanced up at Brandt’s rugged profile and saw that he was watching her, a strange look on his face.

“What is it?” she said.

“I’m nervous.”

She laughed. “You? Nervous? What on earth for?”

“Because I want you to like it.”

She studied his eyes, as clear blue as the sky behind him, and