Free Desert Orchid: The Desert Princes: Book 1 by CC MacKenzie Page A

of fear settled in his gut.
    Fear that he’d never measure up to his father, his mother, his brother and his future wife.
    Fear that he’d fail again to be a man, a good husband, a good father and a good son made something like panic grip him by the throat.
    Jesus, what had made him think he could do this?
    Watching him very carefully, Charisse narrowed her blue eyes into slits now as she stared up at him, and Khalid had the deeply uncomfortable feeling that she could read his mind.
    "I do believe you’re jealous," she murmured.
     
    He opened his mouth to refute the outrageous suggestion because it had been crystal clear to him that although his brother and Charisse were evenly matched intellectually, they were not remotely attracted to one another.
    But then again, surely it might sound better to appear jealous rather than insecure?
    There had always been a competitive sibling rivalry between him and Sarif, which brought into his mind the one thing that had seriously annoyed him.
    "You were the one who said you would much rather marry my brother, remember?"
    Her eyes never left his as she frowned now and said nothing for an unremitting moment.
    And all the while those narrowed eyes never left his.
    Again, he had the spooky feeling she was reading his mind.
    Charisse, Khalid was coming to realise, was one sharp cookie.
    "You don’t want it, do you?"
    Confused, he blinked.
    "It?"
    "The country, the people, and me. You don’t want us. Do you, Prince?"
     
    Deliberately testing him, Charisse had made the tone insulting.
    She didn’t miss the spark of sheer temper in his dark eyes, quickly hidden, but she noticed something else, too. The hand in his trouser pocket was fiddling with what appeared to be worry beads.
    He was nervous?
    And he hadn’t once participated in the education debate with his brother.
    Interesting.
    Let’s see what you’re made of, Khalid.
    "You are nothing but a party animal who’s made a career out of avoiding any semblance of responsibility for himself, his family and his country. Drinking and whoring are hardly the requisite skills for running a country. And by your behaviour this evening, you’ve just proved to me that the ability to discuss serious issues is beyond you."
    For a moment Charisse thought she’d pushed him too far, but the stunned shock on his face made her reckless.
    The time had come to push him over the edge.
    She took a step towards him.
    He took a step back.
    "If you were me, Prince, and had a choice, how would you feel about marrying a whoring tom-cat like you?"
     
    Completely thrown by the face of an angel with the voice of the Devil, Khalid shook his head to clear his thoughts.
    One minute she was pleasant and purring to his brother, the next she was hissing and spitting at him. Plus, she had unerringly put her finger on the crux of the matter.
    He gave her a tight little smile.
    "Of course, you are correct. I wouldn’t choose me over Sarif, either. However, in the spirit of plain speaking, you still haven’t explained to me how a sixteen year old was paid over three million Euros to marry a man old enough to be her grandfather?"
    Silence.
    Their eyes clashed with mutual loathing.
    When she remained silent he simply shrugged.
    And then unwittingly hammered another nail into his own coffin.
    "Now who’s the whore?" he drawled.
     
    Unrelenting grey eyes bored into hers.
    He was studying her with an intensity, a focus, Charisse found terribly disturbing.
    Then he turned to walk away.
    But a righteous anger burned the very marrow in her bones.
    How dare he call her a whore?
    "Coward!" she yelled at the top of her voice.
    He stopped dead.
    Very slowly Khalid turned and now those furious eyes found hers.
    A shiver of apprehension slid down her spine as that deep voice drawled,
    " What did you just call me?"
    Later, she’d wonder what had possessed her as sheer temper won the struggle with common sense.
    Trembling, she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands as