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An Excerpt From: DESERT WIND

CHARLOTTE BOYETT-COMPO, 2006

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

 "Why did you help me?" he asked. "If I remember rightly, you reminded me we are sworn enemies."

"I did not say I was your enemy. I said my people wish your death, but they do not know what I have learned of you. You had no desire to invade my land," she said. "You argued against it. You only did what your father and sultan ordered you to do." She drew in a long breath. "I too know what it is like to be forced to do a royal bidding."

Ardalan was being bombarded with the scent of her body--musk mixed with the tang of cinnamon, and he ached to run his hands over her honey-colored skin. He had to fight down the temptation.

Halim entered the little room and smiled briefly at Sitara before bowing respectfully to his prince. "You are feeling better, my Prince?" he inquired.

"Well enough," Ardalan replied, indicating he wished Halim to sit down so he didn't have to crane his neck to look up at him. "There's a problem?"

"You know me too well," Halim said. He hunkered down. "We are surrounded by thousands of very angry religious fanatics. Isn't that problem enough?"

Sitara sat back on her heels. "I would not call my people fanatics, Captain," she corrected. "But I agree with you, they are angry. You have desecrated sacred grounds by camping here."

"We had no idea what these caves were," Ardalan said. "Had we known, we would not have chosen them."

She stared into his eyes, gauging his words, then nodded slowly. "I believe you," she said.

Ardalan had known the moment men had begun arriving from every quadrant of the horizon that he had badly miscalculated by sending his men into the caves. In trying to fight their way out of the valley, the land had become a quagmire of blood and his troops had been forced back into the safety of the caves. Now, they were trapped.

"The maharaja has sent an emissary," Halim stated. "He awaits an audience with you."

"Where is he?" Ardalan asked. "This emissary?"

"Sitting his mount in the rain," Halim replied. "He came alone."

"A brave man," Ardalan remarked. He shifted position, flinching as his wounds pulled at his flesh. "Well, go get him. No doubt he's here to tell me we'll never leave these caves alive."

Sitara realized the Asaraban was trying to put on his robes and got to her knees, crawling over to him to help him. It was difficult to do with the man sitting and she made sure she didn't look down for she had already glimpsed an enticing view of his naked flanks. As she moved behind his back, she drew in a shocked breath.

"Not a pretty sight, is it?" Ardalan asked.

The prince's back was crisscrossed with scar tissue, most of it widely furrowed. A dark red patch stood out near his shoulder and she realized it was a brand of some sort.

"He did this to you," she said on a breath of sound.

"And enjoyed every pass of the cat," he said. "If memory serves, he laughed when the brand was applied." He shrugged. "I don't remember anything save my own screams."

"But his own son," she said, and her eyes filled with tears at the tremendous pain this man had suffered at the hands of his father.

"It doesn't matter," Ardalan said as he pulled his garment up and stuck his arms into the sleeves. "There was never any love lost between us."

Sitara started to speak but stopped, turning her face toward the sound of voices beyond the room. She put a hand to her chest, her face reflecting a sudden fear.

"You know the emissary?" Ardalan asked, for he too had heard the voice of the Kishnu male speaking with Halim.

"Aye," Sitara said, lowering her eyes. "He is my betrothed."

Ardalan's eyes narrowed. He felt like a werehound, his hackles coming up at the thought of another male having laid claim to the princess, but he had no chance to question her as Halim lead the Kishnu man into the room.

"Prince Ardalan," Halim said, "may I present Prince Sahan Kapoor?"

The Kishnu bowed slightly but his eyes never left Sitara. He spoke to her rather than acknowledging Ardalan. "You are well, Princess?" he inquired in their native Kishnu.

"I am," Sitara answered.

"Have you suffered abuse at the hands of the Asarabans?"

Sitara shook her head. "No, I have not. They have treated me with respect and honor."

Switching his attention to Ardalan, the Kishnu straightened to his full height, staring at his enemy with ill-disguised contempt. "What will it take to return Princess Sitara to her father unharmed?" he asked.

Without asking for help, Ardalan got to his feet. He did not seem in the least encumbered by the wounds that had laid him low and stood straight and tall, though Sitara knew he had to still be in pain. "You are assuming I ordered her abduction to use her as a bargaining point with your maharaja."

Sahan's expression did not change. "We know you did. What will it take to free her?"

Ardalan turned his gaze to Sitara. He found himself staring at the tattoo on the top of the woman's right hand. It was the symbol of the Kishnu royal family and marked her as the daughter of the maharaja. The Asaraban prince knew just how much tattoos could hurt when applied to a bony part of the body for he had one around each wrist. The thought of her suffering brought out a protective instinct in him he found undeniable.

Sitara met Ardalan's stare and felt the jolt of it all the way to her belly. She had to look away from that intensity, feeling her heart slamming against her ribs as she did.

"What if we were to sue for peace between us?" Ardalan countered, shocking the others in the room.

Halim took a step forward. "My prince," he said in Asaraban. "Your father will not approve of such a ploy. He will be furious."

"So let him," Ardalan answered in Asaraban. "I am allowed more than one wife according to the Prophet."

"Ardalan!" Halim shouted, forgetting himself. His face had lost its normal ruddy color.

"Be still, Halim," Ardalan said. "I know what I am about."

"This is most unwise," Halim pronounced. "Most unwise!" He cast Sitara an accusing look. She was looking back at him with wide eyes.

Sitara understood the Asaraban language and she knew something monumental was happening. The glare coming from the captain made her look to Sahan for protection.

"In what manner are you suing for peace?" Sahan asked in stilted Obinese, ignoring Sitara.

"It is my desire to take the Princess Sitara to wife."

Sitara's felt those words spinning around inside her head, making her dizzy, yet she could not move, could not speak.

"His majesty will not wish to ally his beloved daughter with one such as you," Sahan said with a smirk. "This much I know."

"He will if he wishes her to remain among the living," Ardalan said brutally, drawing Sitara's shocked stare to him. "Either he hands her into my keeping or she will die here with me and mine."