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

by Clare Connelly

  He frowned against her shoulder, still moist with beads of perspiration from the afternoon heat and their pleasurable activities.

  “I don’t get it,” she said slowly, but her hands were still running up and down his back.

  Gently, he eased her to the floor, but he kept her trapped in the apex of his legs, hard against the wall.

  “We are just married,” he said honestly. “Your accident happened only one day after we arrived in Naman.”

  “But I can’t believe we didn’t…”

  “We both wanted to wait until we were married,” he explained quickly. “But I always assumed you’d had other lovers.”

  Her cheeks flushed pink. “Apparently not.”

  “It just doesn’t seem possible,” he said, lancing her with his inquisitive gaze.

  Out of nowhere, a memory came to her and she grabbed onto it with both hands. “I used to joke that you’d ruined me for other men.” She smiled up at him. “I remember having dinner with Georgie and someone asked me out. I don’t remember who. I can’t even picture their face.” She waved a hand in the air. “That doesn’t matter. Anyway, I was busy at university, or that’s what I said. But Georgie knew better. She knew that I couldn’t be with anyone else after meeting you.”

  Zayn felt his heart contract painfully in his chest. He would say she was lying, except that she had no reason to. She believed that they were in love, so why would she make up untruths about her feelings?

  Remorse flooded his body, as he thought about the lie he was perpetuating now. And fear joined it, because he could imagine her rage when she remembered the truth. Which surely she would, eventually.

  “But surely I told you?” She said quietly, and something like doubt clouded her eyes in a way that made him feel like the worst kind of bastard.

  “Does this look like the face of a man who knew he’d married a virgin?”

  She shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I kept it from you. Do you mind?”

  “Mind?” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her roughly against his chest. “You would be perfect to me if you’d slept with no men or many. Of course, I wouldn’t be a red-blooded male if I didn’t tell you that it’s a total turn-on to know only I have possessed you.”

  “Possessed me?” A shiver ran down her spine as she felt another memory dance in front of her eyes. She tried to catch it, but it was elusive, like dust mites in a sunray.

  “Just an expression,” he said quickly, and then he scooped her up and carried her to his bed. Reverently, he lay her down in the center, and a strange sense of honor infiltrated him at the sight of her there. His wife. His. For now, and forever.

  “How do you feel?” He asked earnestly as he sat beside her and ran his fingers lightly over her smooth thigh.

  “Honestly?”

  He nodded. “Always.”

  “Wonderful and exhausted.” She blinked up at him. The sun was streaming in through his bedroom window and he reluctantly left her side simply so that he could draw the blinds and immerse them into a darker state.

  He lay down in bed and pulled her against his naked torso. “Shut your eyes. Sleep in my arms, habibte.”

  And as she drifted off into a dark, strangely hollow dream, her last waking thought was that she never wanted to be anywhere but in Zayn’s arms.

  Chapter Nine

  “Another perfect day,” Julia said with a grin as she padded barefoot out onto the enormous terrace that led to the infinity pool.

  “Hard to believe you found the heat so stifling when you first arrived,” he teased gently, opening his arms for his wife to walk into. She did so automatically. In the week since the accident, she’d remembered hardly anything. But day by day, she’d realized how happy she must have been. Zayn was every bit the husband she’d hoped he would be. Even more of a partner than when they’d first dated. Their chemistry was sensational. Their common interests were varied, but their sexual need was truly earth shattering. She couldn’t believe they’d been able to wait until they were married. She just had to look at him to feel a swirling ocean of desire turn her core slick and moist with heat.

  Her pretty face looked bemused. “I did grow up in England, you know. At best, our Summer days would be like a Namani winter.”

  Of their own volition, his fingers crept inside the skimpy lycra bathing suit she was wearing, and pressed against her most private core.

  “Zayn,” she whispered, scanning the palatial home for the usual army of servants.

  His chuckle was low, and set her pulse skittering. “I have significantly reduced my workforce. Most personnel are now stationed on the property exterior. We are quite alone.”

  Her smile was dazzling. “In that case, why don’t you join me for a swim.”

  His eyes flared with pleasure. “On one condition.”

  She pressed a finger to her lips in a deliberately provocative pose. “Name it.”

  “Let’s discard these silly swimmers you insist on wearing.” He pulled at the ribbons that held her bikini bottoms in place and Julia squealed as they dropped straight down her legs.

  “Zayn!” The effect of her protest was undermined by the giggle she couldn’t contain.

  “Turn around.” His voice was like a command, and she felt a small memory try to push through her fogged brain, but it disappeared again almost instantly. She did as he said, and he reached up and tugged at the bikini strings, so that her breasts were freed.

  “Much better,” he said, spinning her within the circle of his arms so he could appreciate her naked form more fully. “You are perfect,” he said on a groan.

  “As are you,” she said with an appreciative smile. “I trust I’m not the only one going skinny dipping?”

  His lips curled into a slow smile. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  “Then allow me to undress you,” she challenged with a small smile.

  His face was blank as he watched her unbutton his shirt. She worked so slowly that he wanted to pull the garment off, even if it tore it in two. But he waited, because there was something incredibly sexy about watching his wife removing his clothes. Her fingers were shaking a little as bit by bit she removed the shirt and tossed it onto the tiled deck.

  She ran her hands across his shoulders, and down his arms, then nipped them in to the top of his jeans. “What happened here?” She lowered her lips and pressed them against the puckered scar just above his left nipple.

  Zayn sucked in an uneven breath.

  “Or have you already told me and I’ve simply forgotten?”

  Zayn closed his eyes against the burgeoning need that was making speech suddenly difficult. “When we were boys, Amal and I got into a fight. We used to quarrel often, but this was different for the simple fact that it involved knives.”

  Julia’s mouth gaped open. “You and your brother were in a knife fight?”

  His laugh was rich with amusement. “Believe it or not, it was all in fun. We’d watched a movie and thought we’d replicate a scene for ourselves. He was a better mark with the blade than I.”

  “Oh dear. Poor Amal. Your parents must have been furious.”

  “Yes.” He shrugged. “Though my mother has always held the attitude that boys will be boys, and we were excellent at proving her right.”

  An image of Amal floated into her mind and a memory with it. Julia frowned. “Your brother doesn’t want to become King.” She didn’t know how she knew, but it was a fact lodged somewhere in the spongy recesses of her malfunctioning brain.

  Did she imagine the way her husband seemed to tense?

  “Why do you say that?”

  Julia stared down at the tiled floor beneath their feet, lost in thought. “His wife… Adele?”

  “Adina,” Zayn supplied automatically.

  “Yes. Adina. And I liked her.” She frowned. “It is the strangest thing. I have no specific memories, but just a sense of things. I am certain she told me that Amal wants you to take his place.�
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  Zayn chose his words cautiously. “We have discussed the possibility in the past.”

  There was something more important at the center of her knowledge but she couldn’t remember for the life of her. She groaned in annoyance. “It’s right there,” she said, stamping her foot. “I know there’s big stuff missing and I can’t get to it. It’s like clouds in the sky, just blowing out of my line of sight.”

  “It will probably come back.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?” She looked stricken, and suddenly, her nakedness made her feel inexplicably self-conscious.

  “I have told you many times. The doctors made me promise not to give you all the answers. It could do more harm than good.”

  She grabbed hold of his shoulder with her hand, and stared up at him beseechingly. “But Zayn, you wouldn’t lie to me, would you? If there was something important that I hadn’t remembered, I mean.”

  Zayn felt his whole world grind to a slow stop as he tried to think of a way to answer her question. She had placed her trust in him innocently and blindly, and he felt a sudden certainty that he had damaged it beyond repair. “I can tell you something very important right now.”

  She lifted her gaze to his hopefully. “Oh?”

  He lowered his mouth and claimed hers, kissing her until her heart was hammering so hard against her breast that he could feel it. “I love you.”

  Julia felt a strange, unbalanced sensation tip her system. It was a statement that he must have made a million times. They were married, after all. But she couldn’t recall his having said it in the week since her accident, and for some reason, the words were very precious to her. She clutched them to her heart and buried them deep in her brain, hopefully immune from the ravages of her memory loss.

  All doubt evaporated from her mind. “I love you, too,” she said honestly. “It’s funny how I just know that. I’ve forgotten so much else, but I know for sure that I do love you.” And at that exact moment in time, she knew it with all of her heart. There was no room for doubt, nor uncertainty. He was her other half, and she didn’t care if she never remembered ‘their story’, just as long as she had him.

  Chapter Ten

  “Have I ever seen this before?” She asked on a sigh of total awe-struck disbelief.

  Zayn gave her a side long glance. “No. We have not been to the palace.”

  Julia stood back from the car and tried to appreciate the sheer size of the royal residence. From this angle, it seemed to loom large out of the earth. It was completely circular in design, with lattice like windows carved into the marble to create the most fragile and beautiful effect Julia had ever seen.

  “Aren’t palaces supposed to be terrifying?”

  Zayn’s smile was unmistakably proud. “This was a palace built to show the cultural strength of the nation, rather than the military might of its army. Naman has a rich culture, and our architects and builders from the seventeenth century were renowned for their innovation and skill. This palace was the piece de resistance of the movement.”

  “It’s stunning,” she said honestly. Around the base of the building, palm trees had been planted and they stood tall and immovable, like sentinels in the sand. A solitary flag was flying from the very center of the palace roof.

  “I’m glad you approve.” If he freed Amal from the responsibilities of ruling, it would, after all, be their home. He caught her hand in his and squeezed it. “Come, I will show you inside.”

  Julia nodded, feeling more than a little intimidated by the sheer size and opulence of the palace grounds. In contrast to the bustling city that their home overlooked, this was a place of serenity and calm. In the middle of the desert, green lawns sprawled into the distance, and exotic looking flowers were bursting into colorful life. A warm breeze rustled past, carrying with it the scent of something sweet, like jasmine or magnolias. Julia’s dark hair caressed her cheek and she hooked it behind her ear. When she lifted her eyes, Zayn was watching her, and though his expression was guarded, there was something in his eyes that made her pulse scatter uncontrollably. She turned her attention back to the palace, trying not to show how easily he could disconcert her.

  “I thought today was about helping me remember things, anyway,” she said a few minutes later, as they made their way beneath a tall arch in the side of the building.

  The frown that crossed his face disappeared again so quickly that she thought she must have imagined it. He fixed a small grin onto his features instead and shrugged, in that sexy, nonchalant way of his. “You don’t know what will bring your memories back, habibte. The doctors are happy with your progress. You heard them. It is very unlikely your brain will be permanently damaged.”

  As he spoke the words, he felt an invisible steel band tightening around his chest. This idyllic time as husband and wife was the eye of an enormous storm. One that would certainly wreak havoc when it returned.

  His Julia. He had never stopped thinking of her as his, and this week, she had been. But it was a house of cards, and the winds were brewing steadily, gusting and ready to blow it all apart around him.

  “They said they couldn’t make guarantees.” Her voice quavered a little, and Zayn stopped walking, so that he could turn to face her. Julia paused beside him and looked up uncertainly into his handsome face.

  Zayn lifted a hand and brushed his fingers along the downy skin of her cheek. How he wished things were different. That this bond could remain. “If you don’t remember, we’ll make new memories,” he promised. His eyes shone with intention, and silently, he willed her to trust him.

  Julia swallowed down the strange sense of confusion that assailed her. For the last two days, she’d had the weirdest intuition that she was angry with her husband. And yet, she wasn’t. He was the perfect lover and companion, and she knew she felt only love and affection for him. So why was there this weird bubbling mistrust inside of her? Like the shadow of a memory, it haunted her, and colored everything he said now.

  Her smile was shaky. “We’ll see.”

  Zayn didn’t like her non-committal response, but he pushed it aside. He had spent his entire life controlling, dominating and directing. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose something as intrinsic to one’s being as knowledge and memory.

  “I just wish I could remember how this happened,” she said with a small grimace. “You and me… it’s all blank.”

  He nodded slowly. How could she know the memories she sought simply weren’t there?

  “I mean, we must have dated for some time before getting married?”

  His brow knitted together. “Why do you say that?”

  “Just a guess, I suppose. Why? Are you saying we didn’t date for long?”

  He angled his face away from her, staring down the long corridor in which they stood. “It’s pointless for me to tell you, Julia. You know what the doctor said.”

  “Did we email back and forth, like we used to?”

  His frown was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. “You remember that we used to email?”

  “Of course.” Her smile was wry. “I remember sitting through Intro to Law drafting emails that I hoped would be funny enough to make you laugh. So why don’t I remember anything more recent?”

  He sighed with exasperation. “Be patient, habibte. It will come back to you when it is supposed to.”

  She gnawed on her lip dubiously. Again, the feeling that her husband was keeping something from her fogged into her brain and she wished she could pinpoint exactly what was making her doubt him.

  “I want to show you my favorite part of the palace,” Zayn whispered into her ear, and his smile was so full of seductive charm that she grinned back at him, despite it being a clunky attempt to derail her investigations.

  “I’d love to see,” she responded honestly, shelving her strange intuitive sense that something was amiss. For now.

  Zayn put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his firm body. She fit so perfectly in the cr
ook of his arm, beneath his shoulder. As they walked, Julia was surprised by how deserted the palace was. She said as much to Zayn and he agreed.

  “My parents are overseas, on a tour of Asia. Father’s role is mostly ceremonial now, leaving much of the day to day running of the government to Amal.”

  Again, that blurry cloud hovered on her mind. “Why doesn’t he want to rule?”

  Zayn titled his head to her. There were many reasons. He chose the one least likely to remind her of previous conversations with Adina. “He has never liked power. He has never liked making decisions.” Zayn let out a breath of frustration. “My brother is a great man. A kind man. But he is soft-hearted and soft-stepping. Naman has always respected Kings who were made of iron.”

  “A gentle King is not bad,” Julia said thoughtfully. “If he is smart and makes well-informed decisions…”

  Zayn nodded. “Perhaps. At the end of the day, he simply doesn’t want the job. It is the one thing he has been told from birth he must do, and he has grown up believing it to be an albatross about his neck. He simply wants to travel with Adina, and write his precious poetry.”

  “He’s a poet?” She scrunched up her nose in amusement. “You’re so different to one another.”

  “You don’t think I’m poetic?” He teased gently, kissing her on the top of her nose.

  Julia blushed. “I think you’re a man who could inspire poetry.”

  He laughed. “You are flattering me, Sheikha. For what purpose?”

  It was Julia’s turn to giggle. “It’s true! When I first saw you, I’m sure a thousand sonnets ran through my mind.”

  He slowed his steps and once more turned to look at her. “For me, too.” It was true. He just hoped she would remember how strong their connection had always been when she finally pieced the truth of their marriage back together.