Bought by The Sheikh

by Clare Connelly

  "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 busy.”

  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.

  “These shorts are ridiculous,” he muttered. "How can you wear such a thing in public?"

  Julia was beyond the point of speech. Her eyes flew wide as Zayn pulled at the button and eased the waistband down, just low enough that he could move his thumb past the layer of denim, and the cotton of her underwear, to her most intimate flesh.

  His eyes held hers as slowly, he dipped his finger inside her, and felt her clenching warmth. Julia let out a long, slow moan of pleasure as once again, he increased his speed. This time, he didn’t stop. He pleasured her until she cried out and collapsed, spent and warm, against his chest.

  Then, with a clinical detachment, he removed himself.

  Julia’s fingers were unsteady as she pulled her shorts back into place and refastened the button. She couldn’t believe that had just happened. It had taken him minutes, a few minutes only, to erase all of her barriers and prove that she was as weak-minded as ever, where he was concerned.

  “There has to be another way,” she said quietly, to his implacable back.

  “Your father has less than a week to appease his creditors.” He shrugged. “If you would prefer to take your chances with them, I will leave now.”

  As though it meant nothing to him.

  She gulped frantically. “But… even if I agreed to this ridiculous proposal, there would have to be guidelines."

  She didn’t see his cynical smile. "I appreciate your attempt to negotiate with me, Julia. I've always admired your spirit. But in case it is not clear to you, allow me to spell it out. You have no bargaining chips to use, beside your body. And even that, I will own."

  "No!" She breathed out hotly. "I will never sleep with you, Zayn, do you understand?"

  He turned to regard her slowly, and his face was completely expressionless. Only his dark eyes glowed with emotion. “When we are married, you will take your place in my bed whenever and however I want.”

  She stared up at him, her mouth hardly working. “No way, Hosé.”

  He shrugged coolly.“Then I will leave. Give my best wishes to Colin.”

  Julia watched as he moved to the heavy oak door of her father’s study and pulled it open. Was he really going to leave? Again?

  “Wait.” She moved towards him on legs that were like jelly.

  “Yes, Julia?” His look was one of pure boredom.

  “I need to think about it.” She lifted her eyes to his face. The same face that had filled her dreams for years, since her first semester at Oxford. “I just don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

  “You don’t need to understand.” He said with a note of steel in his voice. “You need only accept my offer, or allow your father to be dragged through the bankruptcy courts. Tell me, how is his heart these days?”

  Her eyes flew wide, like saucers in her pretty heart-shaped face. “You bastard.” Colin’s heart attack had been mild, but Julia had been terrified since then that his health was suffering.

  His smile was cold. “I get what I want, Julia, using whatever means are necessary.”

  “But why do you want me?” She asked urgently. “Why do you want me now?”

  “Oh, I wanted you then, too. But you were a child. You have grown into a woman, ready to be a wife and mother.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “Your delectable body has no doubt pleased many men since I knew you. Now it’s time to add me to the list.”

  “You’re one to talk!” She muttered, old wounds suddenly rubbed raw. “Or have your escapades as the Playboy Prince been exaggerated?”

  His mouth twitched in obvious amusement. “Guilty as charged,” he said, unconscious of how his admission made her heart clench uncomfortably in her chest.

  “I couldn’t open a magazine without seeing pictures of you with woman after woman,” she said quietly, but her expression had a faraway look, as she remembered the totally unceremonious way he had dumped her, and then moved on to a field of more available, experienced women.

  “What I did, and with whom, is none of your business," he said firmly.

  “It is if I’m to marry you,” she pointed out logically.

  “How do you figure that?”

  She rubbed at her temples with her fingertips. “You seem to be a man with a voracious appetite. How do I know that you’ll be faithful to me, when we’re married.”

  “You don’t.” His voice was firm, his tone unapologetic.

  “You can’t be serious,” she spluttered, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him with frustration. “You actually expect me to marry you, not knowing how many women you’re dragging into bed besides?”

  “I have never had to drag a woman into my bed, habibte. More often I find they leap there with alacrity.”

  Julia’s fingers itched to slap the arrogant grin off his face. “You disgust me.”

  “You wish I disgusted you, but actually, you are just the same as these women. You would lie down here for me, on this cold tiled floor, if I wanted to take you.”

  Colour infused her cheeks at his crude, yet accurate, assessment of her desire. “As if,” she said weakly, turning away from him and pacing the length of the floor.

  “Careful, Julia. It sounds like you’re asking for a demonstration. As though you need reminding you were just moaning in my arms.”

  Her body shook with anger, but she tried to sound dismissive. “So what? By your own admission, you’ve had a lot of practice. Of course you can push a woman’s buttons. Am I supposed to be impressed by your sexual prowess?”

  “Whether you are impressed or not is not my concern,” he said with a lazy glance at his watch. “Your role as my wife will not be a hardship for you.”

  She shook her head slowly, a great sadness running through her. Once, she had wanted nothing more than to be married to the great Sheikh Zayn Al-melara. But he’d hurt that innocent young girl beyond repair. When he’d broken her heart, he’d broken it completely, and she knew she’d never be the same again.

  Julia wanted to beg him not to do this. He was a very wealthy man. He could help Colin with the spare change in his pockets, just about. There was no need to throw her into the bargain. Except that, for reasons known only to him, he’d decided he wanted to marry her. And Sheikh Zayn Al-melara was not someone to accept defeat.

  “Stop it!” She whispered harshly. “Just stop talking about it like that. Just stop.”

  Her anguish was obvious, but he was done feeling sorry for this woman. She had fooled him once before. He’d believed her to be all that was sweet and good in this world, and he’d been wrong. He was not going to be wrong about her twice.

  She twisted the ends of her hair around her finger. It was a gesture that was so sweet, and so familiar to him, that he felt a strange lurch in the pit of his stomach.

  Her earnest eyes sought his. “Did you ever really love me?”

  “Love is a fantasy,” he said with an impatient wave of his hands.

  “So that’s a no?” She turned away from him, so that he wouldn’t see how deeply his words hurt.

  Zayn watched her carefully. He knew she had made up her mind to accept, and yet still, she was seeking a way out. It did not please him. He had always believed that, when he finally chose his bride, she would be grateful. Eager to
take her place by his side.

  “What about work?” She stared unseeing out of the window, towards the stables that housed Colin’s beloved horses.

  Zayn’s confusion was genuine. “You will not need to work.”

  “I want to work,” she said, spinning around to face him. “You obviously think I'm lazy, and that I have no work ethic, but you're wrong. I have just spent four years slaving away to get my degree. I fully intend to put it to use.”

  “What job could my wife possibly have?” He said with arrogant disbelief.

  “You don’t have law firms in Naman?” She lifted her chin defiantly.

  “You will not have time to join a law firm, Julia.”

  “Of course I will,” she said with a determined insistence he admired.

  “You will be a princess. Even you must see it is not possible.”

  She pursed her lips. “What about your mother? I remember you saying once how you were proud of her for how hard she worked.”

  He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “She heads committees. Fundraises.”

  Julia nodded eagerly. “Fine. That will work. I have to do something, Zayn, don’t you see that? I’ll go spare if I’m simply expected to be on your arm. You understand, don't you?”

  “I will think about it.”

  “Zayn, I’ve never been good at handling the spotlight. How can you expect me to marry someone like you, knowing I would never want to be in the public eye?”

  He resented the need to lie to her. It weakened his upper-hand to be dishonest. But he knew her naturally shy disposition, and it would be a major problem for Julia if she thought he might ascend to the throne of Naman, taking the place of his older brother. He was impatient now. He had not come here to negotiate, after all, but to take what he had long thought of as his. “I have answered enough of your questions. Now it is your turn to answer mine. Will you marry me?”