"He has gone to town."
Julia froze at the bottom of the stairs, her whole body stiff as the words penetrated her mind. It was not the words, though, but the person who had spoken them. It had been years - four, she realized with a start - since they'd spoken, but she would know Zayn's voice anywhere. She dug her long nails into her palms until she thought she might draw blood, and slowly spun around.
The outfit she'd chosen that morning was absolutely perfect for stomping the fields of Glastonbury. But under the intensive scrutiny of Sheikh Zayn Al-melara, she felt like she might as well have been naked. Slowly, his dark gaze drifted over her. He started with her hair, longer than she'd worn it when they dated; it now fell half-way down her back, in dark, silky waves. She'd filled out since then too- after all, she'd only been nineteen. Now, at twenty three, she was curvy and womanly; a fact he obviously appreciated, as his insolent gaze paused on the swell of her cleavage revealed by the lemon-yellow singlet top. The shorts were perfectly fine, but the way his eyes lingered on the apex of her thighs and the tanned skin of her legs made Julia's cheeks glows.
"Are you quite done?" She queried haughtily, injecting enough ice into her voice to freeze a normal man. But beneath the cool attitude was a torrent of anxiety that threatened to burst any moment.
"When I am done, you will know it," he responded through gritted teeth, without switching his focus in the slightest. Slowly, so slowly she suspected he was trying to infuriate her, he dragged his gaze back up the length of her body, pausing again for an exaggerated inspection of her breasts, which were now heaving with her rapidly drawn breaths.
She forced herself to sound calm and crossed her arms across her chest. It was the wrong thing to do as it emphasised her narrow waist. "I see you're still as arrogant as ever."
His lips curled in a faint smile. "More so, if anything."
She lifted a perfectly sculptured brow in derision. "I find that hard to believe."
"You'll see."
A shiver of apprehension ran the length of her spine at his words, which seemed to foreshadow… something. Something ominous. She chose to ignore it. "Why has dad gone to town?"
"He had to take some contracts to his lawyer. He was impatient to file them immediately."
She frowned in consternation. "I told him a week ago that I would be visiting." Without thinking, she fished another blackberry from the cup and lifted it to her lips. Slowly, she pushed it into her mouth, wondering what on earth could have been so urgent that her dad would miss out on a chance to have lunch with her.
"It was an unexpected matter, Julia."
Her frown deepened. "Why do you always make me feel like I'm acting like a spoiled brat?"
Zayn leaned nonchalantly against the banister of the stairs, and it brought his whole body closer to hers. "Perhaps because you're running around looking like a fun-loving, irresponsible teenager in the middle of a work day?"
Color crept into her cheeks. "It's Glastonbury," she defended feebly. "And I've just graduated."
He shrugged, as if to say she'd just proved his point. And she supposed she sort of had. After all, her first instinct had been to skip the festival this year, but Andrew and Georgie had been insistent. She didn't want to be the one to break up their trio. They'd been friends forever, and all that would change now that they were taking up serious jobs.
"What are you doing here, anyway?"
Zayn's expression was inscrutable. She looked up at his face, but had to look away again almost immediately. Though he'd broken her heart, he still had the ability to wind it up to double speed. Just one quick glance at him had set her pulses skittering. She swallowed nervously, and tried not to think about how good he smelled.
"I came with a proposition."
Another tingle of warning danced along her spine. "A proposition?" She dipped her hand into her the cup and fished out another berry. "I can't imagine what you could have to say that my father would want to hear."
His smile was smug, but still so glorious on his face that it made her stomach flip over. "I offered to buy his company."
Now the warning signals were so loud they were almost screaming in her brain. She froze, berry half way to her lips. "Dad would never sell his business. He spent a lifetime building it up. It's his legacy."
"Your inheritance, too," he said with just a trace of judgment in his voice.
She made a scoff of distaste. "Of course not. I don't think like that."
"No. I'm sure you worked very hard for that Porsche you almost crashed into the house."
She glared at him. So what if she had been a little indulged by her father? He had money, and he liked her to have nice things. But she'd never asked for a penny. She wasn't like that. Why did it bother Julia so much that he had cast her as a silly little diva? "You're one to talk." She snapped sarcastically, biting down on the berry in annoyance. "How's the palace treating you?"
His smile was slow and lazy, like a cat lying on sunny bricks. "Touche. While I was born to the royal family, I have worked since I was a boy. Have you, Julia? Have you ever done a whole day's work in your life?"
She felt heat in her cheeks. Angry, frustrated heat. He knew nothing about her anymore; why was he acting like he wrote the book of Julia? "What the hell is it to you?" She snapped, pushing past him and sashaying down the hallway with an unknowingly provocative swagger to her curved hips.
Zayn followed, and their height difference was such that it took him no time at all to catch her, with his long strides matched to her small, barefooted steps. Trying to seem unfazed, she moved into her father's study, simply because it was the closest room and she needed to sit and get her composure back.
He was right behind her, making it impossible for her to feel anything but uneasy. She fixed him with her most withering of glances. "You can wait for my father elsewhere. I would rather be alone."
He moved his head slowly from side to side and came to stand in front of her. "But I have also come to speak with you."
Julia's brown flecked eyes narrowed, and she stared up at him from beneath her thick, curling lashes. "Just go away, Zayn. We have nothing to talk about." He was so damned handsome, so sexy, that she felt herself being pulled dangerously backwards in time, to the first time she had seen him.
It had been just a few rooms over, in the downstairs parlor that was often used for hosting formal events. She had known her father had invited him, of course. He was royal, and so a very big deal, even for someone with as rich and distinguished a family tree as Colin Cosgrove-Howard. But she'd imagined that Sheikh Zayn Al-melara would be old, and paunchy, perhaps with a glass eye or something.
The moment he'd walked into the room, everything had stopped for Julia. The music, the chatter, the orbital spinning of the earth. She had simply stared at the most devastatingly attractive and powerful man she had ever seen. He'd come alone. That had surprised her too, for surely men of his wealth and position travelled with security and advisors constantly.
"He's the second son," her father had informed her later. "Not the heir to the throne. Though he controls the family's business empire and is himself worth billions."
Julia had hardly heard him. He was so beautiful that he should have been shadowed by security simply in the interests of preserving such a superior specimen of humanity. Pretending an interest in a conversation with Georgie and Andrew, she'd studied him covertly all evening, from beneath her lashes, until finally, while she was replenishing her champagne from the bar, he'd completely surprised her by singling her out.
"I have been watching you all night," he had whispered against her cheek, as he'd kissed her by way of introduction.
Her eyes had flown to his face in surprise. "Not possible, or you would have seen me staring at you."
Her honesty had drawn a broad smile from him. "I did see you staring, and it was all I could do not to beat a path through the room and take you outside where we could speak privately."
She had shrugged, impressing herself
with how cool she seemed. "Let's go now."
Zayn had frowned a little. "I didn't intend to take you from your friends. And it is your father's party; I do not wish to show him disrespect."
Julia had waved a hand in the air. "Don't be silly. My friends are on their way to being so sloshed they won't notice I'm gone. As for dad, if I'm happy, he's happy."
Zayn had stared at her thoughtfully for a long time. So long that she thought he might change his mind. But then, he had pressed a hand to the small of her back and gently guided her from the room. The rest, had been history. The most breathtakingly beautiful romance of Julia's life, that had burned out as disastrously as it had begun magnificently.
Out of nowhere, an image of the first woman he'd been with after her came to mind. Buxom, easy, slutty; and in the photo Georgie had reluctantly shown Julia, the woman looked like she'd just rolled out of Zayn's king-size bed. Slutty Big Boobs had been just the first in a long line of women Zayn had moved onto. And though there had now been dozens and dozens, the pain had never become easier to bear. If anything, Julia felt her sense of betrayal growing in proportion to her confusion. Why? She had thought he loved her, and then all of a sudden, it was over, and he'd moved on quicker than she could say, "But you broke my heart!".
"I mean it, Zayn. You're just someone I thought I knew, years ago. I really don't want to spend another minute in your company." She pinned him with her angry glare. "Why would you even want to buy daddy's business? He deals in spice imports. Hardly your usual line of work."
"No. I will certainly either on-sell it or arrange for a manager to handle it." His tone was dismissive. He reached down and picked up a crystal glass that looked half-full of sparkling water. He lifted it to his lips and drunk it one mouthful. "It was not the business so much as the assets that come with it that attracted my interest."
Julia thought of her father's company with a mind that was slow to focus. There was the warehouse in Hammersmith, and the transportation vehicles, but other than that, it was a relatively asset poor company. She implored him with her eyes to continue.
He was more than willing. "You see, Julia, your father's business is in a lot of trouble."
Julia shook her head to deny it, but his words formed a little bridge in her mind and memory. Various pieces of knowledge suddenly slotted into place. Her father's stress, the long times between lavish holidays that had once been frequent, the downsizing of his lifestyle, and the slowly diminishing collection of antiquities every time she returned to Howard Manor.
Still, she refused to believe it. "His business is excellent. He is always picking up new contracts." She tried to think of the last time he'd said as much to her, and drew a blank.
"No, habibte. He is in a lot of debt. He has no new contracts. I made sure of that."
"You... you... what do you mean?"
"I had to be sure the incentive would be sufficient enough to guarantee your acceptance."
Julia glared at him, but she couldn't quite understand what he was saying. "What incentive? Accept what? Jeez, Zayn, stop beating about the bush and tell me what the hell you want from me."
"I have offered to buy your father's business. What Colin doesn't know is that I will only go through with the sale if you agree to marry me."
Chapter Two
Julia felt her throat constrict with angry tears. “But… I would never marry you. Not in a million years.”
Dark eyes flared wide, and glowed with an anger she would never have believed Zayn capable of. Not when she’d first met him. Then again, that had been four years ago. A lot could happen in four years. If the papers were to be believed, a lot had happened to Sheikh Zayn Al-melara. “The choice, of course, is entirely yours. But if you do not agree to my proposition, I will not purchase your father’s company.”
She pulled herself up to her full, not-very impressive height of just over five feet. “I’ll have you know I have an excellent offer to join a top law firm. My salary will be more than enough to help daddy out. If he even is in financial trouble, which I find hard to believe.”
A curl of his lips showed him to be amused, rather than impressed. “Your father is in debt more than six million pounds.”
Julia felt her knees buckle beneath her and she reached out for the solid timber desk for support. “Six million pounds?”
Her voice was little more than a whisper, and it pleased Zayn to see her surprise. She had hurt and embarrassed him, and he’d been waiting a very long time to exact his revenge.
“I don’t suppose you have such an amount lying around somewhere?”
Julia’s pale brown eyes flew to his face. “You’re enjoying this.”
His shrug of pure insolence drew her attention to his broad shoulders and muscled torso. A body that had been torturing her dreams for years. “I am certainly relishing the prospect of claiming you as my wife, and taking you to my bed.”
Julia’s bow shaped lips gaped wide open. “You cannot be serious.”
Zayn closed the distance between them with two easy strides. “Oh, I was prepared to wait for you before. You were, after all only nineteen years old. And, I believed at the time, an innocent.” His lips twisted in a sneer of self-derision. “You’re a big girl now. And you have the body to prove it.”
Julia froze as he lifted a hand a ran it down her side, brushing the edge of her breast and pausing to lightly grip her hip. “This is some kind of bad dream.” She bit down on her lower lip, trying to connect the man she had once believed she loved with this demonic stranger before her now.
“On the contrary, this is a very, very good dream.” And he lowered his head and took possession of her lips, roughly, not at all like he had had kissed her in the past. Then, he had been gentle, tender and caring. Now, his lips and stubbled chin ravaged her, taking and plundering what he wanted from her mouth, making the last of her strength dissipate in waves of wanton weakness.
She couldn’t help it. She had wanted him for years, and despite his horrid behaviour, she felt a kick of lust stir in her stomach. She drew a hand to his chest, intending to push him away, but instead it clung to the soft cotton of his shirt.
Zayn lifted his head, and stared down at the woman he intended to marry. “We will marry on Friday, and travel to Naman directly afterwards.”
“No.” Julia shook her head to clear the cobwebs his kiss had woven throughout her brain. She knew it was vitally important to hold onto her determination.
“Very well.” His eyes narrowed as he regarded her seriously. “And how do you think your father shall like living in a one bedroom flat? It will be a shame for him to lose his precious horses, but, of course, a bankrupt man cannot keep such expensive beasts.”
“Stop it,” she hissed, crossing her arms defensively in front of her chest. She realised, in the small part of her brain that was capable of normal, rational thought, that she was shaking like a leaf. “I can’t believe his situation is so dire.”
“It is. He has had a rather lacklustre four years.”
"Because of you?" She shook her head with fury.
His shrug was one of a total insolence. "I had to be sure you would come when I was ready."
"You … bastard!" She spat at him, palming her hair roughly. "How could you do this?"
"Actually, it was surprisingly easy."
Guilt and anger made her cheeks flush pink. “I’ve been away. I should have paid more attention.” She closed her eyes on the anguished wave of self-recrimination.
“You have had more pleasurable activities to keep you busy, I am sure.” Zayn’s voice was razor sharp with accusation.
A sensible woman might have realised that he held all the cards, but Julia had never been sensible where the Sheikh was concerned. Not since the first moment their eyes had locked, across a crowded ball room, and she had felt something fall into place in the core of her heart.
“I would hardly call an international law degree pleasurable,” she said forcefully. “But it has certainly kept me bu
sy.”
His lips formed a sneer. “All work and no play makes for a very dull Julia. Never mind. Once we are married, you will have your hands full. With me.”
Despite her innocence, something about the tone of his voice made her think she’d missed a double entendre. Or maybe it was just that her mind seemed to go straight to sex whenever Zayn was nearby. “Why do you want to marry me anyway?” She asked jerkily, piercing him with her direct stare. Her eyes were wide-set and almond shaped, and he had always found them quite hauntingly alluring.
“Because, Julia, I made myself a promise that I would possess you, and I never break my word. Particularly not to myself. I rather like the idea of owning you.” His words ran over her body like warm oil.
She shivered a little at his cool assertion, laced with hot intent. She tried to sound brave, but her voice shook with a lack of conviction. “I’m not a possession though.”
“Aren’t you?” He let his hand run up her exposed inner thigh, to the ridiculously high edge of her denim cut offs, then padded his thumb across the apex of her legs, watching from narrowed eyes as her breath hitched in her throat, and her face froze with desire. “You are saying I could not possess you now if I chose to?”
Julia forced herself to speak, though her throat felt tight and dry. “I am not property. Stop acting as though I am.”
“You forget, Julia, I know you. I know how much you adore your father. I know you will do whatever it takes to save him from destitution.”
She squeezed her eyes shut as the intimate contact of his palm became almost too heavenly to endure. “Like marrying you?”
He growled his agreement, and increased the rhythmic stroking of his thumb. Julia’s breath was coming in snatched gasps, and he could tell she was close to exploding. He could take her up against the desk right now, if he wanted to. She was aching for him. Only he’d waited four years for her. He didn’t just want to have sex with her. He wanted to make her need him as she’d never needed anyone else. He wanted to punish her.
Sheikhs: Rich, powerful desert kings and the women who bring them to their knees... Page 75
