Sheikhs: Rich, powerful desert kings and the women who bring them to their knees...

by Clare Connelly

  “It is the best chance to take her. There will be many people. It is easy to separate someone in a crowd.”

  “The security …”

  “You forget how easily I am able to infiltrate them.”

  She closed her eyes. Nausea was a wave in her gut, but she squashed it with mental strength. They had already put an end to one royal wedding. Now, they would do the same to this union.

  “Do it.” She disconnected the call, her pulse hammering with tension. She wished there was more she could do, but from the safety and distance of the mountains, there were only books to read. She settled in the hammock outside, fanning her face with one hand and idly turning pages with the other. She was marking time.

  She was waiting. Waiting for news of the second Ibarra who would never be Emira.

  The heat was thick and oppressive, not just in the mountains, but at the palace too. The sun was unrelenting as it made its way across the sky. And beyond the palace walls, there was a constant noise. A rumbling of speech and excitement that formed a single backdrop of sound.

  She has come. The words were being spoken in many dialects, by many people. Flanked by several security guards from the palace, they moved through the crowd. Gifts of money were bestowed by the guards as they went.

  It was not the security presence that made her feel safe though. It was him. Khalid ash-Hareth, strong and commanding.

  Gone was the man who had pleasured her only hours earlier. In his place was this dynamic, macho ruler. The man a kingdom would turn to.

  The crowd was dressed brightly, and many had donned the traditional purple colour that signified the Ibarra royal family.

  “I can’t believe there are so many people, despite the change of plans.”

  His expression didn’t shift. She wondered if he’d heard her. He was stiff. Immovable.

  No. He was tense.

  Sally pulled her gaze away, wishing there was some way she could reassure him. They were fine. Nothing was going to happen.

  “Ma’am,” one of the security guards who looked vaguely familiar caught her attention with a deferential bow of his head. “There is an elderly lady who wishes to meet you.”

  “Oh!” Sally smiled. This is what it was about. Meeting people. She leaned closer to the guard, so that she could be sure he heard her. “Where is she?”

  “I will take you to her.”

  Sally turned to say something to Khalid, but he was in deep conversation with Kaman. Their expressions were equally clouded, and Sally could guess the nature of their discussion. Though Kaman was different in many ways to Khalid, he would no doubt have shared the Sheikh’s view that this was an exercise far too dangerous to have been contemplated.

  Defiance blinked in her face. “Yes, show me.”

  Sally wasn’t worried. In fact, the kindness of the enormous crowd had given her an inflated, and perhaps false, sense of confidence.

  There might have been factions that wanted to cling to the old ways of hatred and violence, but for the most part, their people welcomed this coming together.

  The guard stayed close as they moved through the crowd. Without the presence of the Sheikh, the people moved closer to her. They were less awe-struck. She still didn’t feel afraid. After all, they had come to celebrate the union.

  And they were smiling.

  She remained within an easy reach of the guard nonetheless.

  They went only a few metres, but it felt like so much further, because of their slow progress and the way everyone seemed to want to speak to her.

  “Here, by the wall.” He pointed across the group, to a woman shrouded in a dark robe, her eyes focussed on the ground.

  Sally fixed a smile to her face as she went. The woman must have been at least eighty years old, but more than that, she had the face and hands of a woman who’d lived a hard life. When she spoke, her voice was a silhouette of what it must once have been. Thin and crackling. “You are the Emira,” the woman croaked, her dark eyes shimmering as they studied the very young woman who would be princess.

  “Sally Ibarra,” she nodded. “It is a pleasure.” She held out one of the gold envelopes, which contained folded bank notes and a commemorative slip of card.

  The woman shook her head. “I didn’t come for money.”

  Sally nodded, taking the seat beside the woman. “You came for another purpose.”

  The woman looked up at the guard, but his attention was focussed squarely on maintaining a small perimeter between Sally and the crowd now.

  “I was at the wedding of Islander and Arina.”

  “Sheikh Khalid ash-Hareth’s grandparents,” Sally murmured.

  “Yes. My mother was an advisor to Arina. I was only a girl. No more than ten or eleven.”

  “Do you remember it clearly?”

  The woman lifted a wizened, knobbly finger to the side of her head. She tapped her dark shroud slowly. “Clear as the bell.”

  “Was it like this?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It was more serious. More nervous. It was not a love match. My mother told me that the wedding was only the third time they’d met. Even as a child, I remember the sense of apprehension. The worry.”

  Sally became very still. The smile was frozen on her face, but her body was unmoving. Even her hair stayed where it was, plaited around her head like a crown.

  It was not a love match.

  Well, nor was this.

  She and Khalid didn’t love each other. But nor did she feel remotely anxious or nervous marrying him.

  In fact, she was excited.

  It wasn’t a love match.

  Khalid didn’t love her.

  And as for her …

  Sally remained as she was, listening without hearing, and certainly without reacting.

  Beside her, the guard made a sudden movement. Reaching for her. It caught her attention, from the corner of her eyes. She startled and looked up. His arm was extended to her, his expression unreadable. His body, encased in the Tari’ell military uniform, was rigid.

  And though she had just been thinking how silly all the worry was, anxiety plumed in her breast now. She looked beyond him, to see the thunderous face of Khalid bearing down upon her.

  Flanked heavily by security and a pale-faced Kaman, he strode towards his intended bride. Everything seemed to happen at once. He pulled her against his chest, while the guards began to speak loudly to the single man who had brought her to the elderly woman.

  “Stop,” she was shaking like a leaf. Though nothing was wrong, the fear had been real, and adrenalin was its bedfellow.

  Khalid was not speaking, so she couldn’t have said why she asked him to stop.

  Kaman, beside him, was equally furious. She looked from one to the other, and then to the guard. “Do not be angry with him, please.”

  Khalid swore harshly in his own tongue. “You disappeared.”

  “I …” She swallowed, but her mouth remained dry. “I came to meet this woman.” She stepped a little to the side, revealing the hunched figure of her companion. Her eyes were meek as she lifted them to Khalid. The fear in his expression was enough to make her regret her hasty decision. “She was at your grandparents’ wedding, and she wanted to speak to me.”

  His temper, so quick to flare, was being reined in, slowly but surely. He allowed himself the luxury of studying every single inch of her face, to assure himself that no harm had befallen her. Then, he shifted his gaze to the crone.

  The woman had her head bent, not from weariness of years, but in a marked sign of deference.

  Khalid expelled a breath from his nostrils and shook his head. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

  She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, and all of Fadi’s lessons flew out the window as she began to fidget her fingers in front of her. It made her seem exactly as she had on that first day. Young, charming and utterly out of her league.

  “This was a mistake,” he repeated.

  And his chastisement filled her with a
dramatic sense of failure. She blinked, but the tears still moistened her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered unevenly. “You were talking to Kaman. I didn’t want to interrupt. I thought I’d only be gone a moment. But then we began to speak, and …”

  Her obvious emotional distress quelled the last vestiges of his anger in a way nothing else could. He clamped his lips together before another curse could escape.

  “And you nearly gave me a heart attack,” he said softly.

  He had been so focussed on his betrothed that he hadn’t realised a crowd was forming. The thought of anyone witnessing the manner in which he’d appeared to chastise Sally brought remorse to him instantly.

  “Are you ready to finish this?”

  She had looked forward to the Haranathi-al, but all pleasure had now been sucked from it. “Yes,” she said with a nod, her eyes not meeting his.

  “The guards will distribute the rest of the gifts.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Can you manage a smile for the crowd, habibi?”

  She blinked, like him, coming to recognise the number of people watching them rather late in the day. “Oh!” She plastered a serene smile on her face, but her lips trembled slightly. It was only visible to him.

  For the rest of the people, assembled to pay homage to the woman who would be their Queen, she appeared regal, kind and perfectly suited to the Sheikh.

  Chapter Eight

  The silence arced between them like flashing electricity. It crackled with the emotions and words that neither dared confront.

  “You promised you would be careful.” He was taking great pains to speak calmly, but Sally could feel the displeasure rolling over her like a huge tidal wave.

  “I was careful.” She shrugged out of her ceremonial robe, placing it carefully over the back of a chair. Beneath it, she wore a fitted cream vest and navy blue pants. She was so distracted by the words she was trying to express that she didn’t realise she was undressing before him.

  “You left me. You went with a guard. Can you imagine for a moment how that felt?”

  “I can,” she conceded readily. “You were worried, and I’m sorry. I was having fun. I was relaxed. I forgot, for a moment, about the possibility of danger.”

  It still seemed like a very distant possibility.

  “I know.” He lifted a hand to her cheek. “You are hot.”

  “Hot?” She frowned. “I’ve been hot every minute of every day since I came here.”

  His hands dropped to her shoulders, then lower, to gently caress her forearms. He lowered his head, so close to hers that she thought (hoped!) he would kiss her. But instead, he murmured in possibly the most seductive tone she’d ever heard, “Come swimming with me.”

  “Swimming?”

  “Mmm,” his hands dropped to her hips. They were strong and possessive through the flimsy fabric of her shirt.

  “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  His eyes were wide with amusement. “Then wear nothing.”

  She glowed like a firefly. “Um, no.”

  “You are to be my wife. You do not need to feel any embarrassment.”

  Her eyes were wide with challenge. “And you? Will you be naked too?”

  His laugh was a rumble; and a match to her tinder. “If it pleases you.”

  Damn him! It was so easy for him to switch it back on her; to make her reveal more of herself than she was sure she should. She dropped her gaze uncertainly.

  But he wouldn’t allow it. He pressed a finger beneath her chin, and lifted her face to his. “Come swimming with me. It is the eve of our wedding. A night we will always remember.”

  Not as much as the next night, she thought with a twist of her lips. But she nodded, eager to do anything that would guarantee more time with this enigmatic ruler.

  “Where?”

  He laughed. “You’ll see.”

  He stepped back to look at her properly, and then nodded. “Come.”

  Without another word, he led her through the palace, and into the courtyard. With a single word, and only a moment’s wait, he was able to conjure two perfect white steeds. Their saddles were ready. He helped her onto the smaller, and then jumped easily onto his.

  “Khalid, where are we going?”

  His smile, washed with gold from the fading sun, was magical. “This way.” He took her reigns in his hand, marrying them with those of his horse, and together they navigated a path away from the palace.

  On it went, further from the building, further from the guards, and further from anyone.

  They were alone. Just the two of them, and a sky that was gradually shifting into greys and blacks.

  It was several minutes before he changed their course, and moved them in a different direction. Several minutes after that when the sound of bubbling water came faintly to her ears.

  He brought the horses to a stop in a clearing. Her eyes looked first to him, and then beyond, at one of the most beautiful sights she’d ever beheld. On her deathbed, she knew it would be with her as clearly as it had emerged in that moment.

  A cascade of crystalline water seemed to fall as if from the heavens high above. It shimmered with the power of the stars and the blessings of the moonlight, and it landed with a muted hum in the rock pool beneath.

  Khalid was watching her. In fact, he was rendered incapable of looking away. Her expression was one of such delight, that he almost exclaimed.

  “I came here often, when I was younger. Kaman and I would swim in this water until our arms ached and our legs could barely move.”

  His statement broke the spell, and it added to it at the same time. He climbed from his horse with the same athleticism he’d exhibited in mounting it, and reached for her waist.

  Though she was an adequate horsewoman, she let him jump her down, purely because it brought them back into intimate contact.

  He linked his fingers through hers, and walked her slowly towards the gently lapping water

  “Don’t you need to tether them?”

  His smile was lopsided. Her heart galloped. “No.” As if to prove it, he let out a single whistle, and the horses stilled, their black eyes seeking him out in the darkness. “They are well trained. Long have they ridden with me.”

  She sighed with an intentional drama. “You know, there are times you speak like someone from a fairy tale.”

  His laugh was caramel and butter, melting over her soul. “I speak like the man I am.”

  “Then you,” she whispered, “are a man from a fairy tale.”

  “Am I?” He stopped walking at the edge of the water. Sally didn’t. She let her toes flick against it, a hint of a smile on her lips as the coolness brought instant relief. “And am I a villain or Prince Charming, in your narrative?”

  The question surprised her, for many reasons. The moon cast a silver hue over him. Her pale brown eyes devoured every detail of his appearance.

  Well? She demanded of herself. What was he? “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

  She turned her back on him, ostensibly to give her attention to the dramatic waterfall. His arms around her waist surprised her. He was close. So close she could feel the hard planes of his body.

  “Nor have I.”

  “About me?” She whispered, shivering as his fingers curled into her stomach.

  “Oh, not about you. I understand what you are, Saaliyah.”

  “But not you?”

  “No.” She didn’t see the way his lips curved in a derisive imitation of a smile. “I am at a loss when it comes to you. The way you make me feel, and the things you make me want, are unfamiliar.”

  She turned in the circle of his arms. “And unwelcome?”

  “Strangely no.” His laugh was a short bark.

  “I’m glad.” She lifted her hands to his chest. The atmosphere around them was contemplative. “I’m sorry for disappearing today.”

  He tightened his grip around her waist. “I know.”

  “You and Kaman were furious.”

  “Y
es.” His lips lifted with genuine amusement. “Kaman is the best friend any man could hope for. My suffering is his, apparently.”

  Butterflies laden with guilt batted her stomach. “I had no intention of causing you to suffer.”

  “I know this.”

  “The guard was with me.”

  He brushed an imaginary piece of her hair away. “Don’t forget, habibi, that it was a palace driver who took part in your cousin’s assassination.”

  Her throat knotted as she swallowed her grief. The silence throbbed with sadness and regret. “It must have been very hard for you,” she said finally.

  “Hard for me?” His smile was a gesture of sympathy, rather than mirth. “Harder, I think, for you.”

  “Undoubtedly. But in different ways. Losing Tasha is something from which I’ll never recover. Particularly not given the horrible circumstances. When I think about what she must have gone through, in that last moment. The fear. The terror.” Her sob was impossible to resist.

  “Don’t think of it then,” he closed his eyes against her words.

  “But you,” she continued as though he hadn’t spoken, “had to contend with the knowledge that it was your palace employee who was complicit in it.”

  He focussed his attention on her shrewdly. “You blame me?”

  “Not at all.” She splayed her fingers across his chest. “But I know you now.”

  “Do you?” A flattened tone was in his voice, as though he felt greatly and was trying not to show it. “What do you know?”

  “That you’re an honourable, decent man who takes his responsibilities very seriously. You are bound by your expectations of yourself, as well as what you feel your country deserves.”

  She felt the way his heart was hammering in his chest. “And what makes you so certain this is correct?”

  “Everything. The way you speak to your attendants. The way you’re being so gentle and patient with me. The way you’re trying to keep me safe and protected.” She swallowed. “And the fact you’re prepared to marry, simply to bring an end to an ancient, futile war.”

  It was the reason he’d suggested his marriage to Tashana, and the reason he’d sought Saaliyah as a replacement bride. But standing in the moonlight, he had almost forgotten. His smile was a ghost.