A Virgin for the Desert King, page 1
Riyaz took a step toward her.
“I am not a boy. You do not need to speak to me as if you are teaching me shapes and colors.” He was so close that she could smell the scent of him. Soap and skin. And something wild beneath that. Her hands were shaking, her heart throbbing, and she couldn’t seem to make either one stop.
“You’re beautiful,” he said in the same way that he had just said all those other things. The same tone. It was not soft. It was not said to flatter. It was an observation, like the many that he had made since they’d met, and somehow, that made it almost more...flattering. Because he didn’t lie. And he didn’t say things to get a response. At least, not that she’d observed.
“Thank you,” she said.
Brianna couldn’t remember the last time someone had called her beautiful. If they ever had.
The Royal Desert Legacy
Claiming the throne...and their brides!
The lives of teenage Princes Cairo and Riyaz changed forever the day their parents were killed in a violent coup. Cairo escaped, but the heir to the throne, Riyaz, was mercilessly imprisoned.
Now, years later, Riyaz is finally free and it’s time for him to take his rightful place as the leader of Nazul, with his brother by his side! Yet two women are about to throw their carefully constructed plans for justice into disarray...
Cairo must return his brother’s promised bride, Ariel, to Nazul. Except their own childhood friendship has become something so much more electric...and dangerous!
Read Cairo and Ariel’s story in
Forbidden to the Desert Prince
As Riyaz learns how to navigate royal life again, there’s only one woman the sheikh wants. And it’s not the one he’s supposed to marry!
Discover Riyaz and Brianna’s story in
A Virgin for the Desert King
Both available now!
Maisey Yates
A Virgin for the Desert King
Maisey Yates is a New York Times bestselling author of over one hundred romance novels. Whether she’s writing strong, hardworking cowboys, dissolute princes or multigenerational family stories, she loves getting lost in fictional worlds. An avid knitter with a dangerous yarn addiction and an aversion to housework, Maisey lives with her husband and three kids in rural Oregon. Check out her website, maiseyyates.com.
Books by Maisey Yates
Harlequin Presents
Crowned for My Royal Baby
The Secret That Shocked Cinderella
The Royal Desert Legacy
Forbidden to the Desert Prince
Pregnant Princesses
Crowned for His Christmas Baby
The Heirs of Liri
His Majesty’s Forbidden Temptation
A Bride for the Lost King
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To Nic, for being amazing.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM REDEEMED BY MY FORBIDDEN HOUSEKEEPER BY HEIDI RICE
CHAPTER ONE
THE FIRST TIME Sheikh Riyaz al Hadid saw the sunlight in sixteen years, she was standing in it.
Her red hair seemed lit on fire by the pool of golden warmth she stood in, her skin glowing. Her lips were like cherries, her body a fever dream.
It had been as many years since he’d seen a woman as it had been since he’d seen the sun. And now, here they both were.
“This is Brianna Whitman.”
Riyaz turned toward his brother, Cairo, who gestured to the woman. The way his brother touched her arm, as if there was a physical familiarity between them, made a monster in Riyaz growl.
Apparently, not just within, for both Cairo and Brianna reacted to the sound.
Thoughts, words, feelings, sounds. All of it was the same to him.
Riyaz had been in the dungeon for sixteen years.
One week ago, Cairo and his men had stormed the palace and freed him, taken down the interlopers who had stolen the throne from their father all those years ago.
It had taken a week for Riyaz to go to the upper floors. Freedom was also a strange and elastic concept to him. He had been free in his mind all this time, but now his body was also free. And there was wide-open space, harsh light, too many sounds. He’d stayed where he could control some of what he saw and heard and felt.
But Cairo had come to see him, every day.
As had doctors. Psychiatrists. And now...this woman.
This woman who Cairo had said would not be seeing him in the dungeon, but Riyaz would have to greet in the throne room.
It was a strange thing, being told what to do. Yes, Riyaz had been a prisoner for many years. But it was strange how he had found ways to forget. The dungeon had become his world. He was not told what to do. He had free run of that world. He was brought food. And there was a guard who took pity on him and brought books. A rotation of them. They did not speak. They did not... Get to know one another, but there was no animosity either. And he would read each new book at least three times before the man traded them out.
He had created a workout facility, found ways to keep his body in shape, so that he would not atrophy during his time in captivity. And yet, there had been long stretches of time when he had forgotten why he was doing anything. There was no future to plan for. There was nothing.
He had never known for sure if Cairo had survived the attack on the palace.
When Cairo had returned, and set Riyaz free, he had asked that his brother show mercy to the guard who had brought him the books.
Time had a new meaning now. And there were tasks. He had spent the first sixteen years of his life in such a fashion. His days had been tightly scheduled. There had been expectations of him. He had learned other languages, had learned about other cultures. He had kept his language skills sharp through reading. He read in Arabic, English, French. Consuming information, stories, had kept him from losing his mind.
At least, entirely.
And now here he was, in the sun. Looking at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
That was something that had not been supplied for him.
Women.
Appetites were an interesting thing. One could learn to suppress them. He had done so while living in the dungeon. He had gone from living on a diet of rich, elaborately prepared foods, to eating nothing but the bland, boring foods of a prisoner. The same every day. Just enough to keep him going. Enough to keep him fit. They fed him quantity, especially as he added mass to his body, but variety was not the order of the day.
He had learned not to care. And then there were days when he would be overcome with the desire to eat a cheeseburger. He did not know why a cheeseburger specifically. It was not common fare in his family’s household. It was not traditional at all. And yet he had tried it before, and it was something that had stuck with him. And it was the thing that haunted him.
So too with sex.
He had been a teenage boy when he had been thrown in the dungeon, after all. His hormones had been in a heightened state.
At sixteen, he had not yet lain with a woman, but he’d thought about it often.
He had been promised to wed a girl who was often in the palace, though he had imagined he would take lovers prior to that marriage. He had thought of her, when Cairo had come to the dungeon. It was her father that had betrayed them. Dominic Hart.
The first thing he’d said when Cairo had come to collect him was that he wanted Ariel Hart. She would complete the contract that her father had broken. Would restore what had been destroyed.
He had decided that during those nights when he had gone over and over the way that things had fallen apart.
But he did not desire her.
His desire took a generic, lush form, much like the woman in front of him.
And there would be stretches of months where he did not think of his deprivation.
And then there would be nights... Nights when he was so hard it was physical pain. Where he raged at the state of denial he lived in. Denial he had not chosen.
He could respect men who chose to live their lives as monks. Denial of self was not a bad thing, he supposed.
But he had lived in forced denial of self for years.
And sometimes he... Sometimes the fury of it all was too much to handle. Though there were other times that there was something glorious in the deprivation. For it made moments others would take for granted sharp. Acute.
This woman was a moment of pure, aching need.
What he wanted to do was send everyone out of the room and pull her into his arms.
But he was very aware of his own strength. Of the fact that he had no finesse. Of the fact that he had nothing but fury and need. And that his brother was touching her.
That his brother made love to this woman.
His brother who
Riyaz was the Sheikh. He had been raised to be all-powerful. He had been raised to be in command.
And had spent sixteen years in command of nothing much more than what he did in the dark.
He was back in power now. And yet... Cairo was the one with the knowledge, the means, to rule.
It was a strange reality.
But then, his reality had been strange from the beginning.
“Brianna,” he said, tasting her name.
It was sunshine. Lemon and raspberry. Somehow.
It had been years since he had met new people. And then in this last week he had met many.
She was the one who shone above all else.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sheikh,” she said. “Cairo has told me about your... Your experiences.”
She was sweet. Hesitant to say anything that might hurt him. As if there was any way he could be hurt.
“Do not be careful with me,” he said. “I despise that. I’m not simple. And I am not fragile. In any regard.”
The woman looked at him with something like pity, and it filled him with a blackened rage.
“And what is it you are here to do?” he asked. “Are you here to fix me?”
“I am here to help you... I’m here to help you with manners. Etiquette, and... What I do is complicated. But I’m not a therapist. However, I have had some experiences with being shut away from the world. And having to learn how to fit in. What I found is that many people want help with that. And need it. It is not as unusual as you would think. I help people. I helped him figure out how to change their behavior to get the promotion. To figure out how to have a relationship. To ascend the throne. After years in a dungeon, though, I will confess this is a first.”
“What job title is that?”
“I don’t really have a title. When people need me they find me.”
He suddenly wanted to know everything about her. And he didn’t see why he shouldn’t.
“How old are you?”
“Oh. I’m... I’m twenty-five.”
“Where do you live?”
“New York.”
“In a penthouse?”
“It’s a... It’s a town house.”
“How did you afford it?” New York was expensive. He knew that from reading. Unless it wasn’t true now. But he imagined that it was. He’d read books spanning many time periods. Many of them were older. So it was difficult to say what was a more modern truth sometimes. He did try to look at and remember the copyright dates. For context.
“It is expensive. I... Cairo bought my home.”
He looked at Cairo. “And what is she to you?”
“She’s the woman that’s going to help you,” said Cairo. “That’s all you need to know.”
“It is not all I need to know,” he said. “I wish to know everything.”
“I am going to begin to see about your other business,” said Cairo. “Brianna is going to care for you. While I’m away.”
“You’re going to get Ariel Hart.”
“Soon. But I’m not quite prepared for her.”
“She will pay for what her father did.”
“Do you think that is... Productive?” Cairo asked, and yet his brother was not neutral. He could see that. And if Riyaz could see that—with his long years lacking in social interaction—then it was painfully obvious.
“I don’t care about what is productive. I’m not even certain what that means. People use that word to talk about all that they accomplish in a day. Days... Nights... What do they matter when you live in a dungeon with no sunlight? What did they matter when you live in a dungeon without other people? You just survive. In the waves of time.”
“Yes. But out here there is the sun. Also people. And there are schedules. Which is where Brianna comes in. And we don’t have a lot of time. We need to see you ascended to the throne. We need to let the people know that they are free. I would love to give you endless time to adjust to the world around you, but even if you are acting primarily as a figurehead, we need you in figurehead shape.”
It was such a strange thing. His brother moved at an entirely different pace than he did. He wore expensive suits. His hair was cut ruthlessly short. His movements were quick and precise.
Riyaz sometimes did not move at all. He watched. He observed. He could be fast if the moment demanded it. But he did not see the point of wasting energy. Everything he did had a purpose. That was why he had set up ways to work out in the dungeon. If he was going to move, he was going to build muscle. Strength.
That seemed a reasonable aim. Riyaz had lived a life where he had little. So he had learned to economize.
Clearly, Cairo did not approach life with the same ethos. His brother was excess personified.
Was Brianna one of his excesses?
He growled again.
“What?” Cairo asked.
“I had a thought I did not like.”
“You’re going to have to not growl.”
“Why?”
“People don’t expect it.”
He looked around, at the glittering opulence of the throne room. At Brianna, who was being given to him as... Some sort of guide. At his brother, who was now leaving. “I have not expected any of the things that have occurred in this last eight days. Why should I make others comfortable by giving them what they expect?”
“Because you’re a sheikh. You have to be somewhat expected.”
“What is your plan?” Riyaz asked. “Give me something to expect.”
“In a month’s time I wish to present you to our people. Riyaz... They have been in captivity as well. Even if not quite so literally. But until we can show you, physically to the public, I don’t want to disclose what has occurred. We must move carefully. We must not ever allow anyone to think that we are weak. We cannot invite more unrest. Not after what we have already endured.”
“I could fight. If we were attacked.”
Cairo looked at him. “I know. But I would rather not have to fight.”
Cairo turned to go. “I will be back next week. After which I will be going to Europe to secure Ariel. As instructed.”
“Good.”
“My wish is only to serve.”
His brother gave a small bow, then turned and walked out of the room, leaving him alone with Brianna Whitman. And now he would ask her whatever he wanted. Because Cairo was not here to tell him that he couldn’t.
“Is my brother your lover?”
Her face turned a startling shade of pink. “Excuse me?”
“He touches you as a man familiar with your body would.”
“Cairo is not... He is not familiar with my body.”
But he could see by the way she said his name, and by the way that her cheeks colored even darker, that the idea was not an unpleasant one to her.
This time he made sure to keep the growl inside. “But you would like him to be.”
“We’re friends. We do not have that sort of relationship.”
“Do you have a lover?”
Her lips went tight. “What we’re doing is not about me,” she said. “It is about you. Shall we go take lunch?”
“I cannot eat this food,” he said. “Not every day. It is... Too much. I cannot even fathom it. All day every day, changes in texture, flavor. In addition to all these other things going on. How does one even have a thought with so much...?” He waved a hand. “Everything?”
“Is there something specific I can ask the kitchen to prepare you?”
“Porridge,” he said. “And bread. Toasted.”
The day that he had been set free from the dungeon he’d had a cheeseburger. After that, he had wanted to return to what he knew. He could manage at least one different thing every day, but the relentlessness of it all... He did not care for it.
“Then that is what you will have.”
“And then what?”
“And then... Your training begins.”
CHAPTER TWO
BRIANNA TRIED TO catch her breath while she waited for Riyaz to join her in the dining room.
She hadn’t been prepared for him. Of course she had come here because Cairo had asked her to. And she would do anything that Cairo asked. And disturbingly, Riyaz seem to have identified that immediately.
