Daughter of the Dragon Page 8

  “Why haven’t you—oh! What’s that in your bed?”

  Despite the cool temperature, a bead of sweat formed on her forehead. Oh no.

  “Amaya?” Karim exhaled. “Amaya, get away—no!”

  “I knew it!” Princess Amaya exclaimed. “I followed Ramin and he keeps bringing food up here. When I saw him leave your rooms this morning, I came in. What are you hiding in your bed? Did you finally get me that puppy I’ve been asking for?”

  A puppy? Well, considering what she was—

  “Amaya—no!”

  But it was too late. The covers pulled away from her body. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

  Standing next to the bed was a young girl, maybe ten or eleven years old. She was dressed in a similar tunic and pants as Zafirah had been wearing, but in a soft pink color. Her light brown hair was loose and matted, like she had just woken up from sleep, while her eyes and mouth were wide open.

  “Hello!” she greeted, her voice pitching higher in excitement. “Karim! Did you bring a friend home? Why didn’t you tell me? Oh, she’s so pretty.” Amaya jumped on the bed and peered closer at Deedee. She began to twitter in Zhobghadian as she tried to touch Deedee’s hair.

  “Amaya, stop, I order you,” Karim commanded, making the young girl freeze.

  As Amaya’s face fell, Deedee felt sympathy for the young girl. “Prince Karim,” she said, giving him the stink eye. “It’s all right. I don’t mind.”

  “But—”

  “Your Highness.” Deedee helped Amaya off the bed and she did a little curtsey. “My name is Deedee Creed from New York. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “New York?” Her eyes went wide. “I’ve always wanted to see New York! The Big Apple!” Turning to Prince Karim, she said. “Why is your friend sleeping here? We have so many guest rooms.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, can she sleep in my room tonight? Please?” She tugged at Deedee’s hand. “I have so many stuffed animals. You can choose any one of them to sleep next to. I’m sure you’d much prefer that than sleeping next to my brother. He snores.”

  “Uh …”

  “No, she will not be sleeping in your room,” Karim said. “She will stay here.”

  “But why not?” Amaya whined. “Why do you get to keep her? I want to play with her too!”

  Deedee felt her face flush, thinking that Karim and Amaya had two very different definitions of playing. “Um, I’m afraid I need to stay here, Princess,” she soothed. “You see I’m … er, you can’t tell anyone I’m here.”

  Amaya cocked her head. “So, it’s a … secret?”

  “Yes, Amaya,” Prince Karim said as he came closer. He knelt down to her level. “A royal secret. So only you and me and Aunt Zafirah can know. We need to protect Deedee.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes went wide. “Someone wants hurt her?”

  “Yes,” Deedee supplied. Technically the truth.

  “You came here to hide from some bad people? And my brother is protecting you?”

  That, she didn’t have the heart to lie about, so she was glad when Prince Karim spoke. “You are so smart, little one. Now, you will go back to your rooms and never speak a word to—”

  “No!” Amaya’s pretty little face scrunched up and she stamped her foot on the floor.

  “No?” Prince Karim stood up to full height, towering over the girl.

  “No!” Her mouth curled up into a smile. “I want to spend the day with her, so she can tell me about New York and America.”

  “Amaya, no—”

  “Please?” Amaya grabbed her brother’s hand and looked up at him with her big dark eyes. “For me, brother?”

  It was obvious from the way Karim’s broad shoulders sank that he was giving in, and Deedee’s heart went flip-flop the moment she saw his tough exterior crumble down. He ran his fingers through his hair, muttered something under his breath, then nodded.

  “Wheee!” She hugged Karim. “This is better than a puppy.”

  “She’s not a pet, Amaya,” Karim groused.

  “I know.” She looked up at Deedee with those great big eyes that seemed to take up half her small face. “Even better. She is a friend.”

  A pang of something hit her in the heart—what kind of lonely existence did this little girl lead? “I’d be happy to be your friend, Your Highness.”

  “Hooray! Do you like playing with dolls and animals?” she asked.

  “Amaya,” Prince Karim began. “Will you go to the living room? I need a moment with Deedee.”

  “But—”

  “It’s all right, sweetheart,” Deedee urged. “We’ll be right out.”

  Amaya hesitated, but nodded and turned toward the door. When she disappeared into the living room, Karim closed the door.

  “Well, I really should get dressed.” Deedee made her voice as casual as possible as she tried to breeze past him.

  He was too quick, however, and grabbed her forearm. “Desiree.”

  The rough sleep-hewn quality of his voice made her knees weak. She swallowed hard. “Yes, Your High—oh!” She was pulled against his hard body, and all the air rushed out from her body.

  “Had we not been interrupted …” His mouth pressed against the side of her forehead, branding her.

  “But we were,” she said weakly. When he tipped her head back, she couldn’t help but look up into those cerulean blue eyes and get lost in them.

  “Next time, we won’t be.” There was a promise in his eyes that made a dizzying current run through her.

  “I look forward to it.”

  That seemed to stun him enough to let her go. Deedee walked as normally as she could to the bathroom, but she really wanted to do a victory dance. For one, she finally found a way to shock him, if the way his blue eyes turned a dark silver were any indication. And for another …. well maybe this vacation was finally about to get enjoyable.

  Chapter Eight

  I look forward to it.

  All day, the words had repeated in Karim’s mind when he had a moment. Gods above and below, not even when he had one to spare could he forget it.

  I look forward to it.

  He couldn’t remember if a woman had ever had this effect on him. In fact, he couldn’t even recall any of the women he had before. He was sure of one thing: None of them brought him to his knees with five simple words.

  I look forward to it.

  Had he not had a full day or if Amaya had not been in the other room, she wouldn’t have had anything to look forward to because he surely would have ravished her right then and there.

  Of course, she was no ordinary woman. She was not even human at all. Apparently, she also transformed into a beast. A beautiful one, but a beast nonetheless. Like him. Was that why she was so alluring? Did she possess some magic to enchant him?

  The Great One growled in displeasure. Claim them. Now.

  Patience, he told his beast. Desiree Creed was not a woman who deserved a rough tumble. No, he was going to enjoy her delectable body, explore every inch of her, make her moan out in mindless desire until they were both sated.

  And then he would do it all over again.

  “Your Highness?”

  “What?” he snapped at his secretary, Mustafa. When the young man gulped, Karim sighed. “I was deep in my thoughts. Apologies.”

  “None necessary, Your Highness,” Mustafa replied quickly. “But you did call me in here. Was there anything else you needed.”

  Karim glanced toward the clock. “Do we have any more appointments for the day?”

  “None, but there are some people who wanted—”

  “Good.” He stood up. “I’m done for the day.”

  “Done, Highness?”

  “Yes. I’ll be having supper in my rooms. Make sure I am not disturbed.”

  “Of course.” Mustafa bowed and placed his hand over his heart. “Have a good evening, Your Highness.”

  Oh yes, I will. He relished the thought as he headed toward the residential wing and took the steps to his rooms two at a time. It
was still hours before he had to make his flight. What better way to while the time away than in the arms of a willing, beautiful woman?

  His blood was on fire by the time he entered the door to his suite. His cock twitched in anticipation. He would strip her of every bit of clothing and—

  “Oh hail, the King, Amenhotep the Third!”

  Amaya. The familiar, youthful squeal was enough to douse the flames of his desire. For now. With a deep sigh, he strode into the room and headed straight to the middle of the living area where two figures sat on the carpet.

  The low table had been pushed to the side, and various stuffed animals and dolls had been laid out all over the floor. Neither Desiree nor Amaya had noticed his presence, so he remained silent as he watched them.

  “And now,” Amaya’s voice had turned solemn. “King Amenhotep is dead, and so we must prepare him for his mummification and burial in the great pyramid. Prepare the canopic jars!”

  “Yes, High Priestess.” Desiree handed Amaya three plastic teacups, which his sister accepted with a reverent nod. Picking up a fork, she raised it in the air. “I will now heat the hook, insert it into his nose, and take out the brain—”

  “Ahem.”

  Two heads turned toward him. Desiree was suppressing a smile, but the blush on her cheeks made her embarrassment evident. His sister, on the other hand, brightened when she realized he was there.

  His sister waved him over. “Karim, you are just in time.”

  “In time for what, little one?”

  “For the mummification of King Amenhotep the Third.” Amaya gestured to the toy giraffe by her feet, laying on its side with a cloth over its eyes. “We’re getting to the best part.”

  “You mean, where you pull his brains through his nose with a hot poker?”

  “Exactly,” Amaya cackled.

  He moved toward them, removing his shoes as he walked over the carpet. “And how many mummifications have you done today?”

  Her brows wrinkled and then she turned around. Behind her were several more dolls and stuffed animals, wrapped up in what appeared to be toilet paper. “Let’s see … Ramses the Second, Ramses the Third, Akhenaten, Hatshepsut, and … Thutmose the Third.” She turned to Desiree. “Did I get the names right, Deedee?”

  “You did, Your Highness, good job,” Deedee said proudly.

  “You taught my sister how to mummify a body?” Karim asked.

  “Er, I was telling her about ancient Egyptians and then …” Her cheeks flushed. “Our little lessons just kind of ran away. I’m sorry—”

  “Well, looks like you’ve got quite the talent, Amaya.” His sister beamed. “You should be, er, proud.”

  “Oh, thank you, Karim!” She rushed over to him, then dragged him toward their little circle of toys, and pulled at him to sit down. “We’re not done yet. We can’t let King Amenhotep be buried without his organs. He’ll never make it to the underworld.”

  “Of course we can’t,” he said in a serious tone. “Now, High Priestess, tell me what I need to do.”

  As they went through the ritual, Karim did his best to pay attention to his sister, but he couldn’t help but glance over at Desiree. She seemed quite proud of her little pupil, but when their gazes met, she blushed furiously and turned away. Had she changed her mind about them? He sincerely hoped not.

  They were burying Amenhotep in his great pyramid—in this case it was Amaya’s toy box turned over—when the door opened and Zafirah entered. “My, my, what’s going on here?”

  “Aunt Zafirah!” Amaya greeted. “Come, I want to show you something.”

  “Er, maybe you can show her something else,” Desiree said, her tone embarrassed.

  Karim was not surprised his aunt had come. This morning he spoke with her and told her about the situation with Amaya, and she didn’t seem worried. “She is a child,” Zafirah had said. “And even if she spoke about Deedee, no one would believe her.”

  “Actually, I am here to let you know that dinner is ready.”

  “Ready?” Karim asked.

  Zafirah’s gaze darted to Desiree, then to him. “Since you have no official duties tonight, I thought it might be nice if you had dinner with Amaya and Deedee in the private dining room.”

  He frowned, not wanting to share Desiree. Not tonight. “I don’t think—”

  “Oh, Karim, can we, please?” Amaya begged.

  “But—”

  His sister turned those pretty dark eyes up at him again, like she was some kitten or lost puppy and, curse the gods, it worked on him every time. “Fine. No need to follow my wishes.” He huffed out. “I am only crown prince after all.”

  His sister’s squeal of delight and her small arms wrapping around his neck as she jumped toward him, however, made it all worth it.

  “Since you will be dining out,” Zafirah began. “I thought you might want to wear something more appropriate.” She handed Desiree a bundle of yellow cloth. “There are slippers in there too. Now, Princess, let’s get you dressed up for dinner, shall we? Karim, why don’t you escort Deedee to dinner. Say, in twenty minutes?”

  “Of course, Aunt Zafirah.”

  “I—thank you. I should get dressed so we won’t be late.” Desiree said, before she headed into the bedroom.

  Karim raised a brow questioningly at his aunt, but the older woman merely gave him a mysterious smile. “You seem presentable enough,” she said. “But do comb your hair. It looks like you’ve been pulling at it the whole day.”

  Yes, with frustration, he said silently. “I’ll see you at dinner, Aunt Zafirah.”

  “Of course.” She bowed her head and then offered her hand to Amaya. “Come along, Princess.”

  Karim sat down on the couch as he waited for Desiree to emerge from the room. Minutes ticked by like hours, and he could hardly sit still.

  How had he come to this? All he wanted was for her to stay put for a few days. Then this morning, things had changed, and he thought an understanding had passed between them and that tonight—

  “Uh, I hope this is okay.”

  Merciful mother Nammu.

  Desiree looked at him shyly as she stood in the doorway. The traditional kaftan she wore covered most of her, but somehow, the way it clung to her curves made her even more alluring. The yellow was a contrast to her caramel hair and light eyes, making her skin glow. There was something missing …

  Jewels. Gold. A voice inside his head rumbled. Adorn her.

  Yes, she needed to be draped in jewelry. Maybe even just jewelry as she lay naked on his bed and—

  “Prince Karim?” She cocked her head to the side. “Did I put it on backwards or something?”

  “No, no.” He stood up and cleared his throat. “You look …” What word could do her justice at this moment? “Perfect.”

  The blush under her fading tan deepened. “Th-thank you.”

  “We should go,” he offered her his arm and gestured toward the door. “I’m hungry.” But not for food.

  Karim couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Amaya so happy. In fact, he didn’t know the last time he’d enjoyed a meal so much, and he wasn’t talking about the food. Aunt Zafirah had gone all out, preparing the finest Zhobghadian dishes, but he couldn’t quite concentrate on the meal, not when Desiree sat opposite him looking like some goddess in her yellow tunic, her hair tumbling down her shoulders, her eyes sparkling as she spoke.

  “What most people think of when they say American Indians are usually the Crow or Apsáalooke,” Desiree said when Zafirah asked her about American tribes. They had been having a discussion about archeology, and his aunt had been interested about the Native American civilizations. “They lived in teepees made of buffalo or elk hide, wore moccasins and feather headdresses. But there are so many indigenous people and tribes all over the Americas. They lived anywhere from caves to houses made of red clay.”

  “Such a rich history,” Zafirah commented.

  “Do they also practice mummification?” Amaya asked.


  “Amaya …” Karim warned. “I don’t think that is proper conversation for the dinner table.”

  “But, Karim,” Amaya whined.

  “I think your brother is right,” Desiree said. “But tomorrow, I’ll tell you about the Aztec mummies.”

  “Really?” The young girl seemed mollified when Desiree nodded. “I will remind you so you don’t forget.”

  “Maybe it’s time we give Desiree a rest,” Karim said. “She’s been telling you so many stories non-stop.”

  “I don’t mind,” she replied. “I rarely get such an enraptured audience.”

  “Why don’t we tell Desiree a story?” Amaya suggested. “I … oh!” She clapped her hands together. “I know, how about I tell you the story of the The Great One?”

  Karim was going to protest, but when he saw her face and his sister’s face light up, he didn’t have the heart.

  “A wonderful idea,” Zafirah said. “You can use the murals to tell the story.”

  “Murals?” Desiree asked.

  Amaya stood up from her seat at the low table and gestured around her. “See? The murals around you, painted in the walls.”

  Desiree’s plump lips opened, and her head swung around. “Oh my. I didn’t notice …” Her face turned into an expression of curiosity, and he could practically see the cogs in her head moving as she soaked in the murals. He had to admit, to see her like this, so caught up in history and knowledge, was strangely turning him on. But then again, everything about her incited lust in him.

  “The murals start there.” Amaya pointed to the east wall. “And move this way.” Her hand moved around in a counter-clockwise moment. “Tell her, Karim.”

  Desiree fixed her gaze on the east wall where there was a painting of a walled city. It looked like shadows were climbing the walls.

  Karim hesitated for a moment, but he supposed it wouldn’t be so bad, to tell her the story. Clearing his throat, he began. “One thousand years ago, a plague had arrived in Zhobghadi. The oubour, a race of monsters whose only purpose was to consume, came upon us. They were set to devour the entire nation when the gods answered our prayers.”