The Sheikh's Bought Wife Read online

  She turned to Zayed. ‘What...what is this?’

  ‘Surely you recognise a Bedouin tent?’ he questioned mockingly. ‘Did you not once tell me that your heart’s desire was to stay in one?’

  Yes, she had said that. Soft words of longing which she’d confided to him during those early days of sexual discovery, when she had been able to enjoy pleasure for pleasure’s sake—before the unrealistic demands of her heart had made her want so much more. She could hardly turn to him now, could she, and voice her concerns that the sheer romance of the setting would cause her unnecessary pain? So she followed her husband into the interior, where lavish wrought-iron lamps hung from the canvas ceiling and cast a golden glow. Priceless silk carpets adorned the floor and low divans were covered in rich and heavy brocade.

  ‘One of the maidservants will take you away to be bathed,’ said Zayed softly, and, as if she’d heard his words, a young woman appeared in the doorway.

  Jane wanted to protest as she was led away to where a bath had been prepared for her. How on earth had they managed to produce this much warm water in the middle of the desert? she wondered as she lowered her body into the milky depths. But for once her questioning mind was silenced by the delicious sensation of the scented oils rippling over her. Afterwards, the maidservant rubbed the silkiest cream into her skin, so that she smelt the drift of sweet oranges and bergamot as she was helped into her clothes. And what clothes. She’d never seen these silk-chiffon robes before and they were the most exquisite thing she’d ever laid eyes on. In deep indigo—as rich and as dark as the desert sky—the robes were delicately embroidered with silver and studded with tiny gems which glittered as she moved, so that she felt as if she were wearing the night sky wrapped around her.

  Her hair was left loose and she made her way towards the main tent beneath a sky dazzling with a blaze of stars and the perfect shining scimitar of a golden moon. This must be what it had been like for his ancestors, she thought suddenly. Because out here in the beautiful starkness of the desert, nothing had really changed. Inside the tent the overhead lights had been extinguished and in their place were dozens of candles, which reinforced the fairytale feel. As Zayed heard her enter and turned to greet her Jane thought she would recall that look on his face for as long as she lived. Or would she try to forget it on the grounds that it would be too achingly poignant to remember? For in that unguarded moment she saw desire, yes, but wasn’t there something else flickering in his black eyes? Some other emotion which looked like a deeper kind of longing than mere lust.

  Maybe she was just guilty of transferring her own feelings onto him. Imagining what she wanted to see instead of what was really there.

  ‘You like it?’ she questioned, only her voice did not sound like her voice at all. It sounded husky and tremulous.

  ‘I...’ He hesitated and that in itself was rare. ‘I have never seen a woman more beautiful than the way you look tonight, my Queen.’

  She wanted to tell him not to talk to her that way and yet she wanted him never to stop. She was glad to take the weight off her trembling knees and to sink onto the embroidered cushions which were heaped in front of the traditional low table. The Sheikh’s favoured foods were brought to them on golden platters, accompanied by the sweet date juice for which the region was famous. But Jane could barely concentrate on the delicacies on offer; she was much too churned up inside to eat or drink. And when the barely touched dishes were taken away, Zayed took her into his arms, smoothing the hair back from her cheeks with his fingers.

  ‘So pensive tonight, Jane.’

  She shrugged. ‘This is quite some experience.’ She looked around the room, desperately seeking to focus her attention on something other than the burning temptation of his eyes. ‘For once I find myself lost for words.’

  But he turned her face back to his, his palm cupping her chin so she could look nowhere else but at him. ‘Then perhaps we should occupy ourselves with something which requires no words.’

  He kissed her and it should have been wonderful—and in a way Jane supposed it was. They both achieved orgasm that night, didn’t they? Not just once but over and over. He caressed her with his mouth and with his hands. He explored every aching centimetre of skin until she was crying out yet again beneath the renewed heat of desire. But never had Jane been more aware of the shallow nature of their relationship and the fact that they weren’t giving themselves to each other as fully as they could. Because he didn’t want to. Because she wasn’t supposed to be his real lover. She was his convenient wife, that was all, and for only a limited tenure.

  Here in the romantic setting of the Bedouin tent it was easy to forget the harshness of their reality and allow herself to be swept away by the fantasy of imagining him as her real husband. And she mustn’t let herself. As she lay in the stillness of the desert night, listening to the sound of Zayed’s steady breathing, she tried to concentrate on her gratitude that he no longer suffered those terrible nightmares. And with an effort she pushed away her growing sense of hopelessness for what could never be.

  Despite the matchless beauty and solitude of the place, Jane felt a sense of relief when they left by plane the following morning to install themselves in Zayed’s sumptuous palace in Qaiyama. And she was glad of the opportunity to distract herself from her uncomfortable thoughts by exploring the city which had once been Kafalah’s capital. With its bustling bazaars, enormous square and the famous clock tower which overlooked the ancient temple, it was still very romantic—but in a much more manageable way than the Bedouin tent had been. She had a million questions for their learned guide, most of which he was able to answer but there were a couple which he confessed perplexed him. Jane said she would research the answers herself and let him know, and she saw the curving smile on Zayed’s face as he listened.

  She was hot and dusty by the time they returned to the palace and made a couple of quick notes on her computer before going into the bathroom to douse her hot skin with the refreshing splash of a cool shower. It wasn’t nearly as relaxing as bathing by candlelight in the desert, but she reflected that you couldn’t have everything. Her hair was damp and her silk robe brushing against her scented skin when she walked back into the room and saw something on Zayed’s face that she’d never seen there before. She frowned, her senses instantly alert. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  What was it?

  ‘Everything okay?’ she questioned.

  ‘Couldn’t be better.’ He began to walk towards her. ‘Did you see how much pleasure you gave to our guide today, when he realised that the new Queen was so literate in Kafalahian history?’

  She was about to make a flippant remark about enjoying being a queen while it lasted, but something in Zayed’s eyes stopped her. Something dark and dangerous. But dangerous in an exciting way, if that was possible. Her tongue snaked out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. ‘Is...is something the matter?’ she said.

  ‘The matter?’ His hand reached out to cup her face and she could feel the roughness of his fingers as they smoothed over her skin and it matched the sudden roughness of his voice. ‘On the contrary, I’m just beginning to realise what a fool I’ve been, Jane.’

  ‘You? A fool?’

  ‘Mmm. I know it is difficult to comprehend, but even I am capable of making fundamental mistakes.’

  Curiosity overrode her desire to reproach him for coming out with such an arrogant statement. ‘What sort of mistakes?’

  He pulled her into his arms and brushed his lips over hers. ‘I want to possess you so much that it’s eating me up,’ he husked. ‘I can’t go on like this for much longer, Jane—and, what’s more, I don’t intend to try.’

  Her heart was beating so fast that she could hardly speak. She assumed he was just going to pleasure her in one of the usual ways but suddenly there was a new tension about him which told her something had changed. ‘Do you
want me to try to work out what you mean from the vague clues you’re giving me?’

  He gave a laugh. A soft laugh edged with mockery but tinged with something darker. ‘Ah, Jane,’ he murmured. ‘Clever, clever Jane. I don’t doubt for a moment that you could work out my meaning if I gave you enough clues, but that would only waste precious time and I’m not prepared to waste any more.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘But you will. Very soon you will,’ he promised as he stroked a reflective fingertip over her trembling lip. ‘I’m going to make love to you. Fully. Properly. Completely.’

  ‘But we c—’

  ‘Yes, we can,’ he intervened, and before she had a chance to protest any further his other hand started caressing the indentation of her waist through the soft silk of her gown. ‘I have spoken to my lawyers.’

  ‘Lawyers?’ she repeated faintly, because, in the context of his hands smoothing down over her body, the word seemed to jar.

  ‘Mmm.’ His lips were on her neck now. ‘The conditions of the will have been met and I have inherited Dahabi Makaan. It is done. So now we can do the hell what we want.’

  ‘But that means we won’t be able to dissolve the marriage within six months!’ she said, trying desperately to ignore the thundering of her heart and sudden rush of heat to her sex. ‘We’ll have to wait at least two years for a separation.’

  ‘And would that bother you?’ he questioned, his fingers splaying over one engorged breast.

  At that moment she was so aroused that she felt the whole Kafalahian army could have charged through their bedroom and it wouldn’t have bothered her. Because six months or two years—what difference would it make? They were still going to get divorced, weren’t they? And why shouldn’t Zayed be the man to take her virginity when she wanted him so much? Why shouldn’t she enjoy that unique and precious experience with someone she’d come to care for more deeply than she’d ever imagined?

  ‘I guess I could live with that,’ she said coolly, determined not to scare him away with her eagerness.

  ‘Then so be it.’

  His lips were no longer on her throat and his voice was no longer a murmur. It had the undeniable ring of determination, which matched the darkening of his face as he picked her up and carried her over to the divan like every masterful fantasy she’d ever had about him. By time he peeled the robe from her body she was already desperate and aching as she watched him undress. She was scared and excited as all that magnificent tawny flesh was revealed, her hungry gaze taking in the broad shoulders, the narrowed hips and the powerful shafts of his muscular legs. And there, at the cradle of his groin, was the daunting sight of his erection—so big and so proud. She had touched him there so many times before but now—at last—she was going to feel him deep inside her.

  He came to lie on the divan beside her, his finger tracing light circles around each of her puckered nipples, before bending his head to lick each one in turn and Jane shivered as tremors of pure bliss rippled over her. She’d thought that once the decision had been made Zayed would seek to possess her very quickly but to her surprise he seemed to be taking all the time in the world. How could he be so controlled, she wondered yearningly, when it was plain that he was as tense and as hungry as she? She sucked in a ragged breath as his tongue cleaved its way over her belly while his fingers moved against her heated sex.

  ‘How long shall I make you wait?’ he questioned, almost idly. ‘Long enough to make you beg, as you begged me that first time I ever touched you intimately?’

  ‘Is that what you want?’ she gasped, but he shook his head.

  ‘You can never give me what I want, Jane,’ he answered, his voice dark. ‘But I can give you what you want. And I can ensure that you will never forget me for as long as you draw breath. That no man will ever come close to giving you the pleasure which you are about to experience in my arms.’

  It had the ring of a territorial boast and something about the dark note underpinning it told Jane she ought to stop him, because their needs were too different. She cared for him more than he cared for her. More than she suspected he would be capable of caring—for anyone. She bit her lip, knowing that everything he’d said had been true. If she let him take her virginity, she would never be able to rid herself of his memory—his hawkish face and hard body would haunt her for as long as she lived. But she couldn’t stop him. She couldn’t and, what was more, she didn’t want to. So instead she just lay there as his gaze was directed to the swell of her rapidly rising breasts before travelling down to stare at the soft triangle of hair between her thighs. It was a candidly assessing look and for a moment she could imagine what a whore must feel like, but somehow she didn’t care about that either.

  ‘You have one last chance to change your mind,’ he said softly, as if he’d been able to read her thoughts.

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to change my mind.’

  He smiled as he moved over her and parted her thighs and she could feel the tip of his erection teasing her moist flesh. And although they had come this far before, this time was different. His eyes were dark with ebony fire as he looked straight into hers and slowly entered her.

  It hurt, yes—but only a little—and the hurt was quickly replaced by an indescribable feeling of warmth and joy because this was what she had wanted for so long. He filled her and she cried out his name. He pushed deeper inside her and she said his name again. And again. Wrapping her legs around his back, Jane gave herself up to the delicious rhythm as he began to move, her hands at his shoulders and her lips at his neck. She gasped as she felt her orgasm building and the familiar pleasure began to sweep her up—and suddenly she was crying out loud and so was he. As the delicious spasms racked her body he gave a low, shuddering moan as he bucked inside her.

  For a while they said nothing. Feeling closer to him than she’d ever done before, Jane tightened her arms around him as she lay listening to the muffled thud of his slowing heart, wanting nothing more than to just savour the moment. But somehow she couldn’t hold back the unwanted thoughts which came flooding into her mind. She wasn’t unrealistic enough to hope for words of love but wasn’t it possible that they needn’t rush into getting a divorce? That Zayed might be prepared to give their marriage a chance?

  ‘That probably wasn’t the smartest move in the world,’ he drawled.

  His words startled her and, uncomprehendingly, Jane raised her head to stare at him. ‘I’m sorry?’

  Shaking his dark head, he withdrew from her. ‘We shouldn’t have done that.’

  ‘Well, I know.’ She swallowed. ‘But we did.’

  ‘Yes, we did,’ he agreed, his hawkish face tight with tension. ‘Maybe it was inevitable after all these weeks. Unrealistic of me to think I could share my bed with a woman and not possess her.’

  Suddenly Jane wanted to scream. She’d thought it had been about passion but for Zayed it seemed to have been all about possession.

  ‘I’ve let you down,’ he continued, still in that same tight tone. ‘And because of that I’m going to let you go.’

  ‘Let me go?’ she repeated, because wasn’t that the euphemism bosses used when they wanted to sack someone?

  ‘I’ve broken my word—something I’ve never done before,’ he said, and suddenly she could see contempt contorting his tawny features. ‘So I’m setting you free, Jane. I’m not going to mess you around more than I already have done. I don’t need you. Not any more. I’ve done what I set out to do and done what I needed to do for my people. You can walk away from me right now.’

  She opened her mouth to say she didn’t want to walk away until she realised it wasn’t an option. This was the Sheikh’s command, thinly disguised as concern for her welfare. Was she going to humiliate herself by begging him yet again?

  Stiffly she got up, picking up her discarded robe from the floor and pullin
g it over her head, relieved to disguise her nakedness from his piercing gaze. ‘In that case, can you organise my return to England as quickly as possible?’ she questioned, her voice low and shaking.

  He sat up, the rumpled golden sheet falling to his waist. ‘Have you got enough money?’

  ‘We agreed my fee at the very beginning, if you remember,’ she answered coolly and then curiosity got the better of her. She remembered the darkness on his face as he’d started to seduce her. She remembered the harshness which had underpinned his words just before he had entered her.

  ‘Something has changed, hasn’t it?’ she said slowly. ‘Something which made you want to break your word and have sex with me. It wasn’t just because you’d cleared your inheritance with your lawyers, was it, Zayed? It was something else.’

  He gave a hard smile as he pushed back the rumpled sheet and pulled on his own robe. ‘I think you know the answer to that yourself, Jane.’

  ‘Actually, no. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Really?’ He stood up and there was a pause as his gaze skated over her. ‘You haven’t been secretly writing to lover-boy from the Foreign Office, then?’

  It took a full ten seconds before she realised what he was talking about. ‘You’ve been reading my emails!’ she said in a low voice. ‘You’ve been spying on me!’

  ‘The computer was open on the desk,’ he snapped. ‘When a message came through while you were in the shower, I didn’t realise it was open on your account. And it was from David. How touching. Nice of him to be planning a cosy new beginning for you for when you start your new life. You didn’t waste much time, did you?’