Her Desert Warrior - completed

Chapter Twenty-Three

The sudden assault on her senses came out of nowhere.

A sharp reminder of what she had left behind in the burning desert of the Middle East. Sandalwood. A stronger version than the very subtle one drifting throughout the room. This was an added hint of spice. A common enough scent, yet now, ripped at her heart in pain. She had to stop herself from fleeing from the reception, having serious doubts about everything.

Her father would never forgive her.

Mask in place with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, she turned around, greeting his most important guest. She froze, with Khalid on her lips. It couldn't be, her foggy brain reasoned. He was in the desert.

Stubborn and proud.

A true warrior for his country.

Involuntary, she stepped towards him, reaching out, needing to touch him. He couldn't possibly be real, mouth arid as the desert, throat constricted tightly. "Claire?" her father warned at her strange behaviour.

She didn't care, closing the distance between them as if walking in a dream.

"Tell me you are real, please," she begged, vulnerable, open and in desperate need.

"Yes, my lady, I am real." He reached out and touched her face with a trace of fingers across her cheek, sending a heatwave of awareness through her. Without warning she slammed into his body, clutching at him frantically. Not caring that an Ambassador's daughter doesn't go around hugging royalty at official functions.

Eyes squeezed tightly, she breathed him in. He smelt the same, yet different. Lovingly, she stroked his back. "I don't understand. How can you be here?" she choked over a tight throat, licking her lips.

"Because you left me."

Startled, her head snapped back, eyes wide. "You didn't even bother to visit me."

Dark intense heat infused eyes meshed with hers, burning into her soul. "When has that ever stopped you, Claire Montgomery?"

Khalid was correct, she hadn't fought for him. When they raided the campsite, rescued them, he had been withdrawn. She should've found out why. He knew who she was, suddenly registered with her. How? Who had told him? No one knew but Parker, and the ones who sent her in.

"You know each other." Her father stated, watching them closely.

Claire stepped back, her hands fell away clutching at her arms. "This is the man who helped me to get Fleur back," she shot Khalid a reprimanding glance. "And didn't tell me who he really was," she added, twitching her nose. All she heard was his royal highness and the rest was a blur.

"Neither did you," Khalid reminded her. Rigid back, lips pursed, she glared at him over the shock, pulling herself together. Did it really change anything? A royal prince was certainly a game-changer. And she was no lady, yet her body rejoiced at his touch, igniting all those memories that had been tormenting her sleep, even when awake.

There was no other man like him, yet he wasn't letting her get away with that, claiming her arm, skin tingling under his touch, and was walked away. There was no way her father was going to challenge this man. Claire felt off-kilter. Also exposed and had nothing to do with her backless, silky red dress. His hand splayed across her bareback, burning his imprint into her. This wasn't the way it was meant to happen. Not how she visioned it at all, she was supposed to go after him, not him looking for her. Her heart soared, yet also wasn't sure why.

"Is there anywhere we can go and talk?" Her gaze shot up towards him, clasping her hands together in front of her. The tip of her tongue slipped out across her dry lips, drawing his gaze down, burning with tension, as if he was remembering where those lips had been on his body. Heat burned her cheeks.