Read Online Forged in the Desert Heat by Maisey Yates - Free Book Online
Authors: Maisey Yates
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names for their manparts, in a kind of superior way that always made Ana feel gauche. But she would laugh and blush, and generally play the part of group virgin, since that’s what she was.
But she didn’t just bust out the innuendo at random.
“I do not,” he said, no hint of humor in his face.
“I figured as much. Unnamed horses aside—” in that moment she decided she would name the poor thing “—you really do want my help?”
“I more than want it, I need it. I need to be seen as a man and not an animal. I need to be...a king in the eyes of my people, and if I go on like I did today, it will not happen. All things considered, you might find it in you to ransom me?” he asked.
She breathed the words before she had a chance to think them through. It was a job. A project. A purpose. And she always said yes to a project. “Of course.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Z AFAR WASN ’ T CERTAIN what had possessed him to be so honest. Except, why not? She would not be staying here; in fact, she would never speak of her being here at all. He would forbid it, and she would doubtless see the reasoning. It was all to protect his people, and her future people, after all.
Ana Christensen did not need to see him as an infallible leader, or as a fearsome warrior. Ana Christensen only needed to see him as a man, and see how she might help that man assume the throne with more ease. And preferably without being deposed by the neighboring country.
His gut kicked in at the thought of her seeing him as a man. He gritted his teeth. He did not mean it that way. He tightened the tape around his fists and repositioned himself in front of the bag he’d been pounding on only a moment earlier.
Being in the palace like this, being indoors, made him feel restless. Like he had too much energy and nowhere to channel it. That meant a lot of hours spent swimming laps in the pool, lifting weights or hitting a punching bag.
Anything that kept him from feeling like he had during his meeting with Rycroft. Like violence was a living beast just beneath the surface of his skin, waiting to tear its way out.
Anything to keep him from feeling like he was suffocating behind the walls. Or buried alive in a tomb. A tomb that held the spirits of those lives taken here.
He had spent the years since his exile in the desert. In the open. And he had not been back to the palace since he’d been driven out.
Those two made for a poor combination and created a sensation of claustrophobia he didn’t like.
Fortunately, he had little time to worry about it. In a few short weeks he would become the face of the nation, and that meant he had to figure out just what face he would show the world.
Not his real one, naturally. No one wanted to engage in diplomatic discussion with a hollow, emotionless stone. A man who had left weakness and feeling behind him so many years ago he couldn’t remember what it had felt like to have them inhabit his body.
Neither did he want to.
He just needed an appropriate mask. And Ana would help him fashion it.
“Kazeem told me that you were... Oh!”
He turned and saw Ana standing in the door to his workout room, her jaw slack, her blue eyes wide. Her eyes, he realized, were most definitely not on his face, but on his sweat-slicked torso. And he would be lying if he denied getting any pleasure from it.
But he would not touch her. Ever. It was impossible. A little lust was hardly worth the security of an entire nation.
And you’ve followed your cock down that path before, haven’t you?
He banished that insidious voice. The one that would see him curled up on the floor crying like a child rather than taking action. He had no room for regret. He could only move forward.
He could not erase his past mistakes. They would always stain. The ghosts would always haunt these halls. The best he could do was attempt to make the future better. For his people. People who had suffered for far too long at the hands of his uncle. Indirectly, his
But she didn’t just bust out the innuendo at random.
“I do not,” he said, no hint of humor in his face.
“I figured as much. Unnamed horses aside—” in that moment she decided she would name the poor thing “—you really do want my help?”
“I more than want it, I need it. I need to be seen as a man and not an animal. I need to be...a king in the eyes of my people, and if I go on like I did today, it will not happen. All things considered, you might find it in you to ransom me?” he asked.
She breathed the words before she had a chance to think them through. It was a job. A project. A purpose. And she always said yes to a project. “Of course.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Z AFAR WASN ’ T CERTAIN what had possessed him to be so honest. Except, why not? She would not be staying here; in fact, she would never speak of her being here at all. He would forbid it, and she would doubtless see the reasoning. It was all to protect his people, and her future people, after all.
Ana Christensen did not need to see him as an infallible leader, or as a fearsome warrior. Ana Christensen only needed to see him as a man, and see how she might help that man assume the throne with more ease. And preferably without being deposed by the neighboring country.
His gut kicked in at the thought of her seeing him as a man. He gritted his teeth. He did not mean it that way. He tightened the tape around his fists and repositioned himself in front of the bag he’d been pounding on only a moment earlier.
Being in the palace like this, being indoors, made him feel restless. Like he had too much energy and nowhere to channel it. That meant a lot of hours spent swimming laps in the pool, lifting weights or hitting a punching bag.
Anything that kept him from feeling like he had during his meeting with Rycroft. Like violence was a living beast just beneath the surface of his skin, waiting to tear its way out.
Anything to keep him from feeling like he was suffocating behind the walls. Or buried alive in a tomb. A tomb that held the spirits of those lives taken here.
He had spent the years since his exile in the desert. In the open. And he had not been back to the palace since he’d been driven out.
Those two made for a poor combination and created a sensation of claustrophobia he didn’t like.
Fortunately, he had little time to worry about it. In a few short weeks he would become the face of the nation, and that meant he had to figure out just what face he would show the world.
Not his real one, naturally. No one wanted to engage in diplomatic discussion with a hollow, emotionless stone. A man who had left weakness and feeling behind him so many years ago he couldn’t remember what it had felt like to have them inhabit his body.
Neither did he want to.
He just needed an appropriate mask. And Ana would help him fashion it.
“Kazeem told me that you were... Oh!”
He turned and saw Ana standing in the door to his workout room, her jaw slack, her blue eyes wide. Her eyes, he realized, were most definitely not on his face, but on his sweat-slicked torso. And he would be lying if he denied getting any pleasure from it.
But he would not touch her. Ever. It was impossible. A little lust was hardly worth the security of an entire nation.
And you’ve followed your cock down that path before, haven’t you?
He banished that insidious voice. The one that would see him curled up on the floor crying like a child rather than taking action. He had no room for regret. He could only move forward.
He could not erase his past mistakes. They would always stain. The ghosts would always haunt these halls. The best he could do was attempt to make the future better. For his people. People who had suffered for far too long at the hands of his uncle. Indirectly, his
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