Read Forged in the Desert Heat for Free Online

“Everything has been taken care of as requested. And Ambassador Rycroft says he will not be put off any longer. He insists you call him as soon as you are in residence.”
    “Which, I suppose is now,” Zafar said, his voice hard, emotionless. “Take the horse.”
    “Yes, Sheikh.”
    If any of his men were perturbed by the change in status they didn’t show it. But then, she imagined that Zafar had always been the one in charge. That he had always been sheikh to those who followed him.
    Questioning him wasn’t something anyone would do lightly. He exuded power, strength. Danger. Everything that should have repelled her. But it didn’t. It scared her, no mistake, but it also fascinated her. And that scared her on a whole new level.
    “Your things?” the other man asked.
    “I have none. Neither has she. Remedy that. I want the woman to have a wardrobe of new clothing before the end of the day. Understood?”
    The man arched one brow. “Yes, Sheikh.”
    Oh, good grief. They were going to think she was the starter to his harem. Or at least they would think she was his mistress. But there was no way to correct it now. This was an unprecedented point in Al Sabah’s history. Zafar was taking over the throne, and the entire palace clearly had new staff. Zafar would be an completely different sort of leader to the one they’d had before, that much was true.
    And it would be such a relief, not just to the people here, but to Tariq’s people. She knew that things had been strained between Shakar and Al Sabah, that Tariq had feared war. He’d called her late one night and expressed those fears. She’d valued that. Valued that he cared enough to tell her what was on his mind, his heart.
    It was part of why she’d fallen in love with him. Part of why she’d said yes to his engagement offer. Yes, her father had instigated it. And yes, he was a driving force behind it, but she wouldn’t have said yes if she wasn’t genuinely fond of Tariq.
    Fond of him.
    That sounded weak sauce. She was more than fond of him. Love was the word. No, theirs wasn’t a red-hot relationship. But so much of that was to be expected. Tariq was old-fashioned and he’d courted her like an old-fashioned guy. It was respectful.
    Plus, he was so handsome. Smooth, dark skin, coal eyes fringed with thick lashes, strong black brows...
    She looked back at Zafar and the memory of Tariq and his good looks were knocked completely from her head.
    Faced with Zafar, the sharp angles of his face, black beard covering most of his brown skin, obsidian eyes that were more like a dark flame and his lips...she really was quite fascinated by his lips...well, it was hard to think of anything else.
    He wasn’t smooth. His skin was marked by the sun, by wind. There was nothing refined about him. He was like a man carved straight from the rock.
    She wasn’t sure handsome was the right word for it. It seemed insipid.
    “Shall we go in? It is my palace, though I have not been back here in fifteen years. I was born here. Raised here.”
    Which meant he’d come into the world like everyone else, rather than being carved from stone, so there went that theory.
    “Must be...nice to be back?” She watched his face, saw no expression change. If she hadn’t caught that moment of intense, dark emotion at the gates, she would think he felt nothing at all. “Strange? Sad?”
    “It is necessary that I’m back. That is all.”
    “I’m sure you feel something about being back.”
    “I feel nothing in general, Ms. Christensen,” he said, addressing her by her name, any part of it, for the first time. “I should hardly start now. I have a country to rule.”
    “But you’re...human,” she said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement. “So, I’m sure you feel something.”
    “Purpose. Every day since my exile there has been one thing that has enticed me to open my eyes each morning, and that has been the belief that my people need me. That it is my