Desert King's Virgin Bride

"Malik, I'm--" There was a slight pause as Sorrel struggled to push the words out. She cleared her throat and tried again--forcing a smile which felt as if it was slicing her face in two. "I'm leaving you," she said, and then wished she could have bitten the words right back, wondering why thehellit had come out like that. Malik looked up from the document he had been reading and a spark of undisguised irritation flashed from his black eyes. Eyes which had been described by the press as cold, or intimidating, or even--in the more colourful publications--as being like those of a lithe predator, about to strike its helpless victim. "What?" he questioned impatiently. "I mean--' Sorrel stared at the dark- skinned Sheikh, sitting in his shimmering silken robes at his desk. He had barely noticed her entering the room and he was barely looking at her now--and worrying about how her words had been interpreted was obviously a complete waste of time, since he obviously hadn't been listening either! 'That I'm leaving Kharastan," she finished huskily. A frown creased Malik's olive brow--for he was too preoccupied with affairs of state to have heard her. More importantly, he had no desire to bother himself with the internal domestic squabbling of the palace. Surely she knew that? 'Not now, Sorrel," he growled. Notnow? If ever Sorrel had needed con- firmation that she was doing the right thing, then it came in the Sheikh's moody and offhand response to her. He spoke as if she was a troublesome fly who had buzzed into his large office suite and he was just about to carelessly swat it. Amber sunlight slanted in through the window, turning the sumptuous apartment into a tableau of pure gold and illuminating the man who sat at the desk like some glorious living statue. As always, just the sight of him made Sorrel's heart yearn--but the sooner she got out of the habit of doingthatthen the sooner she would recover from the impact of his potent charm. Instead, Sorrel tried very hard to ignore his physical attributes, and fixed him with a questioning look instead. "When, then? Whencanwe discuss it, Malik?" "Look!' Impatiently, he waved his hand at the large pile of paperwork awaiting the royal stamp and the royal signature. Beside them lay his open diary, crammed with engage- ment after engagement. "You know that there is an important border issue with Maraban which needs to be resolved quickly--and I have a new ambassador to welcome later this morning. Can't you see how busy I am?" "Yes, Malik," she said, with a sigh. "Of course I can see." It hurt that he should even ask--for surely he must know that she always had his interests at heart? Once, she had been alone in looking out for Malik--in the days when he had been nothing more than the Sheikh's most valued and trusted aide--but now all eyes were fixed on him. In the royal palace--and in the desert lands beyond--he was the centre of the universe. To be a desert king was considered irresistible in the eyes of the world. When Malik said 'jump', people leapt--usually with a smarmy and obsequious smile pinned to their faces. It hadn't always been that way, of course. Malik was a late starter in the royal game-- he hadn't even realised that he was the ille- gitimate son of the Sheikh until two years ago, when the bombshell announcement had been made. The old ruler had died, and Malik had been crowned--from aide to king in a simple ceremony--from commoner to royal in an instant. And yet Malik seemed to have adapted to his new status like a falcon which took its first solo flight in the desert sky. His always haughty air had become fine tuned--but now he had developed a cool dismissiveness towards others. The practical side of Sorrel's character acknowledged thaKendrick, Sharon is the author of 'Desert King's Virgin Bride ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373233922 and ISBN 0373233922.