As they passed through the mountains into the wide sweep of the desert, he saw the wind picking up, swirling little spirals of sand, twisting them up into the sky. Kareef felt the same way every time he looked at her. Tangled up in her.
He felt her dark head nestle on his shoulder. Looking down at her in surprise, he saw her eyes were closed. She was sleeping against him. His gaze roamed her face.
God, he wanted to kiss her.
More than kiss. He wanted to strip her naked and feast on every inch of her supple flesh. He wanted to explore the mountains of her breasts and the valley between. The low, flat plain of her belly and the hot citadel between her thighs. He wanted to devour her like a conqueror seizing an ancient land for his own use, beneath his hands, beneath his control.
But the old days were over.
He was King of Qusay, yet unable to have the one thing he most desired. No strength could take her. No brutality could force her. He couldn’t act on his desire. Not at the expense of her happiness.
Many years ago there were two Mediterranean islands, ruled as one kingdom—Adamas. But bitter family feuds ripped Adamas apart and the islands went their separate ways. The Greek Karedes family reigned supreme over glamorous Aristo, and the smouldering Al’Farisi sheikhs commanded the desert lands of Calista!
When the Aristan king died, an illegitimate daughter was discovered—Stefania, the rightful heir to the throne! Ruthlessly, the Calistan Sheikh King Zakari seduced her into marriage, to claim absolute power, but was over-awed by her purity—and succumbed to love. Now they rule both Aristo and Calista together, in the spirit of hope and prosperity.
But a black mark hangs over the Calistan royal family still. As young boys, three of King Zakari’s brothers were kidnapped for ransom by pirates. Two returned safely, but the youngest was swept out to sea and never found—presumed dead. Then, at Stefania’s coronation, a stranger appeared in their midst—the ruler of a nearby kingdom, Qusay. A stranger with scars on his wrists from pirates’ ropes. A stranger who knows nothing of his past—only his future as a king!
What will happen when Xavian, King of Qusay, discovers that he’s living the wrong life?
And who will claim the Qusay throne if the truth is unveiled?
Find out more in the exciting, brand-new Modern Romance™ mini-series
DARK-HEARTED DESERT MEN
A kingdom torn apart by scandal; a throne left empty; four smouldering desert princes…Which one will claim the crown—and who will they claim as their brides?
Book 1. WEDLOCKED: BANISHED SHEIKH, UNTOUCHED QUEEN
by Carol Marinelli
Book 2. TAMED: THE BARBARIAN KING
by Jennie Lucas
Book 3. FORBIDDEN: THE SHEIKH’S VIRGIN
by Trish Morey
Book 4. SCANDAL: HIS MAJESTY’S LOVE-CHILD
by Annie West
Tamed: The Barbarian King
by
Jennie Lucas
Jennie Lucas grew up dreaming about faraway lands. At fifteen, hungry for experience beyond the borders of her small Idaho city, she went to a Connecticut boarding school on scholarship. She took her first solo trip to Europe at sixteen, then put off college and travelled around the US, supporting herself with jobs as diverse as gas station cashier and newspaper advertising assistant.
At twenty-two she met the man who would be her husband. After their marriage, she graduated from Kent State with a degree in English. Seven years after she started writing, she got the magical call from London that turned her into a published author.
Since then life has been hectic, with a new writing career, a sexy husband and two babies under two, but she’s having a wonderful (albeit sleepless) time. She loves immersing herself in dramatic, glamorous, passionate stories. Maybe she can’t physically travel to Morocco or Spain right now, but for a few hours a day, while her children are sleeping, she can be there in her books.
Jennie loves to hear from her readers. You can visit her website at www.jennielucas.com, or drop her a note at [email protected]
To my fellow authors of the Dark-Hearted Desert Men series: Carol Marinelli, Trish Morey and Annie West. You girls rock!
Plus an extra heap of thanks to Trish Morey, who’s the one who got me into all this trouble in the first place.
CHAPTER ONE
MARRYING a man she didn’t love was surprisingly easy, Jasmine Kouri thought as she handed her empty champagne flute to a passing waiter. Why had she wasted so much time struggling to be alone? She should have done this a year ago.
Her engagement party was in full force. All of Qusay’s high society—everyone who’d once scorned her—was now milling beneath the white pavilion on the edge of the Mediterranean Sea, sipping Cristal in solid gold flutes as they toasted her engagement to the second richest man in Qusay.
Her fiancé had spared no expense. Jasmine’s fifteencarat diamond ring scattered prisms and rainbows of refracted sunlight every time she moved her left hand. It was also very heavy, and the pale green chiffon dress he’d chosen for her in Paris felt hot as her skirts swirled in the desert wind. Across the wide grassy vista, the turrets of his sprawling Italianate mansion flew red flags emblazoned with his personal crest.
Then again, Umar Hajjar never spared any expense—on anything. Everything he owned, from his world-class racehorses to his homes around the world, proclaimed his money and prestige. He’d pursued Jasmine for a year in New York, and yesterday, she’d suddenly accepted his proposal. This party was Umar’s first step in making the people of Qusay forget her old scandal. He would shape Jasmine into his perfect bride, the same as he trained a promising colt into a winner: at any cost.
But that wasn’t why Jasmine’s heart was pounding as she looked anxiously through the crowds in the pavilion. She didn’t care about money. She was after something far more precious.
Jewel-laden socialites pressed forward to congratulate her, including some whose vicious gossip had ruined her when she was young and defenseless. But it would be bad manners to remember that now, so Jasmine just thanked them and smiled until her cheeks hurt.
Then she caught her breath as she saw the people she’d been waiting for.
Her family.
The last time she’d seen them, Jasmine had been a scared sixteen-year-old girl, packed off into poverty and exile by her harsh, heartbroken father and quietly weeping mother. Now because of this marriage, no one would ever be able hurt Jasmine—or her family—ever again.
With a joyful cry, she held her arms wide, and her grown-up sisters ran to embrace her.
“I’m proud of you, my daughter,” her father said gruffly, patting her on the shoulder. “At last you’ve done well.”
“Oh, my precious child.” Her mother hugged her tearfully, kissing her cheek. “It’s too long you’ve been away!”
Both her parents had grown older. Her proud father was stooped, her mother gray. The sisters Jasmine remembered as skinny children were now plump matrons with husbands and children of their own. As her family embraced her, the wind blew around Jasmine’s ladylike dress, swirling around them