The Sheikh’s Unexpected Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 16)

by Cara Albany

  "After all, I'm kinda your prisoner, here," she announced with a mischievous tone. Her gaze fixed on him she added: "Aren't I?"

  Once again he felt a throbbing sensation, hard and insistent. He wondered if she was playing with him, teasing him.

  Was it merely some kind of defense against the privacy he'd breached? Was that how she had always kept the men in her life at bay? By making fun of them?

  He decided to test that statement. He took a step toward her. When he spoke he made sure his voice was low and his tone deadly serious. "You're only a captive here if you choose to be," he growled. Then he gazed at her, challenge in his eyes.

  She met his gaze, defiant and sure. There wasn't a flicker of doubt in her eyes as she stared back at him.

  "Captive?" she whispered.

  The way she said that one simple word made heat flare in him, triggered a furious quickening of his pulse. His heart was racing with sudden, urgent need. He was sure his features had flushed, sure that his mouth had curled at the corners into an appreciative smile.

  Right now, he wanted to reach out and touch her. No, he wanted more than that. He wanted to crush her soft curves against his body; wanted to satisfy this instant need by crushing his lips against hers, tasting her, devouring her.

  For a moment they both looked at one another, an understanding passing between them both. He saw one of her brows arch slightly.

  She wanted him, but she was waiting for him to make the first move. Maybe it had something to do with what had happened last night, he reflected.

  Was this the time? He drew in a breath trying to calm his raging emotion.

  No. This wasn't the time. Not yet.

  He turned away from her and gathered his composure. When he looked back at her, he saw she was already beginning to walk slowly away from him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Gemma knew she'd been wrong in agreeing to come here, she told herself later as she sat cross-legged on the peak of the dune and gazed out across the amazing desert landscape.

  The conversation over breakfast had merely confirmed what she'd suspected. In spite of everything she'd felt last night, there was no way she was going to open herself up to sheikh Ahmed any more than she'd done already.

  As far as she was concerned, he knew too much. Those probing questions about her growing up had been difficult to answer. But, she'd felt as if she should tell him something. Anything which would stop him being so curious about her.

  Now he knew how hard life had been for her, maybe he'd understand her more. From the look on his face when she'd told him she wanted to be alone, she figured he might welcome the chance to keep his distance from a loser like her.

  Because, from the way he'd looked at her, he clearly thought that was what she was. A loser from a damaged background.

  That wasn't what he was used to in his life. She was nothing like the women he must have been with over the years.

  He was so obviously used to more wealth and privilege than she could ever imagine. His world was definitely not hers.

  In a way, she was glad it had been Rashid and not Ahmed who had brought her to Qazhar. She knew she had nothing to offer Ahmed.

  His vision of life was so different from hers and from Rashid's, that it was clear to her they had little in common.

  The attraction she'd felt last night would be something she would do well to ignore.

  It had been so long since she'd been even remotely close to someone, that it would have been impossible for her not to be attracted to a man like Ahmed.

  He was just so damned gorgeous.

  But, she'd avoided entanglements in her life. And that was the way it was going to continue.

  Nothing good would come from giving into the foolish and dangerous temptations offered by the sheikh's body.

  She gazed out across the sandy vista. She reminded herself that she'd come here to escape, to recharge, and that was what she was going to do.

  She took out her cell phone and turned on the power. It came to life and she saw that her decision to preserve the battery had been the right one.

  There was more than enough power in the device for her to make some notes. They would be useful when she finally returned home to face the music.

  She wondered what everyone would be thinking of her disappearance. Because, that was how she was sure the sensationalist media would portray her retreat to some unspecified place.

  They would be talking about her, speculating about where she could be, and when she would return. Some would dismiss the whole thing as some kind of lame publicity stunt.

  But they would be wrong, she reflected.

  So wrong.

  It wasn't just Ahmed who had affected her since coming here.

  This place had made her feel human again. The stark beauty of the place had made her face herself with a brutal honesty.

  Already she could feel the benefits of being here. Being here this morning was just so special.

  As she sat on the dune, looking out across the perfect landscape, she could feel a peace settle inside her. It was a sense of calmness and ease which she hadn't felt in a long while.

  But this wasn't her domain. This was his place. It was where he belonged. He understood this place better than she ever would.

  Thinking about Ahmed, he had looked crestfallen as she had announced her intention to spend time on her own.

  Maybe he'd had plans. Perhaps those plans had involved getting more intimate with her. The memory of last night still burned bright in her mind. The images of his naked body taunted and teased her. His glistening body; his strong muscles; his broad chest; his fullness, thick and tempting.

  Gemma drew in a deep breath and swallowed. She decided to distract herself from thoughts of Ahmed by making some brief notes about her experience.

  She knew there was no cell phone signal out here, but it didn't stop her wanting to record her thoughts. She didn't want to forget any of this.

  After a while, later in the morning, the sun became too hot for her to continue to sit on the dune any longer. She made her way back to the tents. There was no sign of Ahmed and she wondered where he could be. Perhaps he was in the other tent.

  An idea seized her and she took out her cell phone. She wouldn't only need written notes, she told herself. It would also be cool to have some photos of the encampment. They'd provide evidence of her stay here.

  She knew how skeptical people could be. These days no-one believed anything if they didn't see pictures or video.

  Gemma took her phone and switched on the camera. She started taking pictures of the tents and the oasis, knowing that they would look impressive once posted to her social media feeds. Then she could really give people something to distract themselves away from the idea that she and Ahmed had had a thing going.

  She was taking a wide shot of both tents when suddenly Ahmed appeared in the frame of the photo, emerging from his own tent. Immediately, he stared at Gemma. There was a visible surprise written all over his features. Then surprise turned to the beginnings of indignation.

  She quickly lowered the phone, but it was too late.

  "What are you doing?" he asked sharply.

  "I thought I'd take a few snaps," she explained. "For when I go back."

  "Why?" he asked coming toward her. She could see the sudden tension in his shoulders. His brows were deeply furrowed. His footsteps were heavy in the soft sand. He did not look at all happy, and she searched her mind quickly for something she could say.

  "I figured they'd be useful," was the best she could come up with.

  He halted a few feet away from her and faced her directly. "Useful for who?" he snapped. His voice was emphatic and clearly filled with indignation. But it was worse than that, she told herself.

  Ahmed was beginning to sound positively angry. Had this touched a raw nerve?

  "I didn't think you'd mind," she offered tentatively.

  "Really?"

  She nodded. "I can delete them if you like." />
  "That isn't the point," he replied.

  She peered at him. "What am I missing here?" she asked.

  He sighed heavily. "I thought you understood what this place is."

  She shrugged and smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but she saw it had no effect. In fact, it seemed to have had the opposite effect. Now he looked even more seriously at her.

  "I know. It's your private space," she said. "And I'm sorry if I intruded on it by taking pictures."

  She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to judge whether he was being serious. He was, she concluded.

  "Okay," she drawled. "If it's what you want, I'll delete them. If it'll make you happy."

  He said nothing, merely nodding.

  "Here goes," she replied, peering at the phone's screen. She pressed a few times and then looked up at him.

  She held the phone out to him so that he could see the screen. "There. Gone," she explained. "Happy?"

  He glanced at the screen and then back at her. She saw his brows furrow even deeper and he shook his head. "No."

  Ahmed turned away from her and paced for a few moments. He came back to her and stood right in front of her. "Why would you do something like that? I thought we trusted each other," he said.

  She frowned at him. "What are you talking about? Of course I trust you. Didn't I come all the way out here, even though I hardly know you?"

  "That isn't the same thing."

  She shook her head. "I think it is. I took a risk coming here."

  He seemed surprised at that choice of words. His brows lifted. "A risk? What are you talking about? You're not in any kind of danger here."

  "It isn't about feeling unsafe," she explained.

  "Then what is it about?"

  Gemma looked away from him and crossed her arms. She couldn't dare give him even a hint of the attraction she was feeling toward him.

  He didn't even know she'd seen him last night, so how else would he know. She'd done everything she could to mask that attraction, and she was sure she'd succeeded.

  So far.

  Suddenly the prospect of getting away from here was tempting.

  Now they were having an argument. Like any other, regular couple, they were bitching about something as stupid as taking photos.

  But, they weren't a couple, she reminded herself. And they never would be.

  "Look, why don't we just forget this whole thing," she suggested.

  He gazed steadily at her. He looked like he was calming down, now. Had that been her first sight of his infamous temper?

  He nodded. "You're right. It isn't important. I should have expected someone like you to want to take photos."

  "Someone like me?" she asked narrowing her eyes.

  "Someone who spends her whole life online is going to want pictures," he replied. His features darkened visibly. "Maybe you'd like to take some videos. Or maybe you'd like an exclusive interview with the reclusive sheikh," he snapped.

  She felt her body tense again, just like it had done when he'd emerged from the tent. "That's not fair," she retorted.

  "Why not?" He gestured with a sweep of his arm. "This must be great material for your fans to gaze at. In fact, I'm sure they'd find it fascinating to marvel at how the primitives can live. After all, the likes of me don't come from your world." He leaned forward and was now clearly indignant. "Your world that is so much better than mine."

  She stiffened, feeling a chill up her spine. She had definitely touched a raw nerve. She was shocked at his words. Was that really how he thought of her? Did he really harbor so much disgust at the world she'd come from?

  Her home.

  "That's not what I think of you," she replied quickly. "Not at all."

  "It isn't?" he asked, raising his brows in obvious skepticism.

  "No," she shot back emphatically.

  He moved closer to her. Now he was almost within touching distance. If he wanted he could reach out and take her arm.

  If he wanted.

  But he didn't. Instead he she saw him breathe deeply and gaze darkly at her for a long moment. He was trying to hold something back, she told herself. She could see it in his eyes and in the way his nostrils had suddenly flared.

  "Then what do you think of me?" he murmured.

  She felt her heart quicken. She wanted to drag her gaze way from him, but she couldn't. His own gaze was penetrating, insistent and, for the moment, totally impossible to dismiss.

  Their eyes were locked in a electrically charged combat. She knew this was a dangerous moment and that her next words could change everything.

  But, she wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

  Perhaps, not ever, she told herself.

  "You know what I think of you, already, don't you?" she asked. Her voice was weaker and softer than she would have liked.

  He shook his head. "I thought I did. But, now? I'm not sure."

  She tilted her head toward her shoulder, feeling regret that she'd provoked this argument in the first place by stepping over his boundaries.

  She sighed heavily. "Look, Ahmed. I apologised. Isn't that enough?"

  Ahmed took one more step closer, and then he did what she thought he'd never do.

  He touched her.

  Deliberately.

  Casually.

  He reached out and cupped his hand beneath her elbow. He rested her elbow gently in his open hand. There was no pressure. He simply wanted to touch her, it seemed.

  Then his fingers curled around her arm and she felt a warm, instant sensation. Her breathing tightened and heat raced uncontrollably to her face, warming her cheeks.

  She glanced down at his hand and then back at him. He seemed to waiting for some kind of reaction. His gaze was steady, unflinching.

  Gemma could see the determination in that gaze, a hint at other things, at other kinds of promises.

  She didn't move away from him. Instead she held his gaze, saying nothing for a long moment.

  Finally she forced herself to speak. "I'm going to take this phone into the tent and leave it there. Okay?" she said.

  He didn't move, at first. Had he been expecting her to say something else? Something more intimate?

  Then he moved his hand away from her. She felt the sudden absence of his touch keenly. Had she wanted him to do more?

  Gemma moved away from him and started toward the tent. She heard his voice from behind her. "You still haven't answered my question," he said.

  She shook her head and refused to respond. "I'm going to take some time on my own, again. If that's okay with you."

  He paused and then nodded slowly.

  She was sure he wanted to say something to her, right now. Especially now that he'd touched her and she hadn't rejected that touch.

  Would that simple gesture encourage him even more, she asked herself?

  In spite of his disappointment, would her acceptance of his touch merely spur him on?

  "I'll talk to you later, Ahmed. Okay?" she said.

  And then she pulled back the flap of the tent entrance and rushed inside.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  He should not have touched her, he told himself as he watched Gemma enter the tent and close the flap shut behind her.

  That had been a mistake.

  But he'd been seized by such an irresistible urge to do it.

  The way she'd looked at him had made the impulse overwhelming. Her gaze had been so soft, so alluring, so tempting that he'd been unable to control himself.

  It had been such a simple thing. How could the merest touch of her arm cause that rush of sensation through his entire body? Because that was what had happened.

  The feeling of her arm in his hand had been exquisite. And it had been made even more so by the fact that she hadn't pulled her arm away from him. In fact, he was sure she'd been secretly pleased by the gesture.

  He'd wanted more. So much more, but he'd known that this wasn't the time. He wondered if that time would ever come. Whether she would just exit his life and lea
ve behind an emptiness, an unsatisfied longing.

  Ahmed turned away from her tent and walked across to the pool. He leaned against a tree and felt like roaring his frustration out loud.

  Why had she done that? Hadn't she realized how much he valued his privacy? That this was the one place in the kingdom where he could feel truly himself?

  Of course, she didn't. How could she know that. They'd only just met. Even if their brief acquaintance had been strangely intense, almost like an instant attraction, it was still to short a time for Gemma to really know what he thought, what he felt.

  He dragged in a deep breath and sighed, closing his eyes. He pictured in his mind the image of her pretty, even features, her glowing cheeks, her slightly opened lips, her bright blue eyes.

  What was it about this woman which had affected him so much? How had she found a way into his heart?

  Because, as he stood leaning back against the tree, he knew she had taken up a place somewhere inside him. A place he'd once believed had been exclusively reserved for someone really special.

  But, wasn't she just such a woman?

  Absolutely unique in every possible way?

  A woman he could only hope to meet once in a lifetime?

  He felt his jaw tighten and frustration curl his fingers into balls of exasperation.

  So, why had he reacted like that to seeing her taking photos? It had been simple, really.

  Instinct had kicked in. Instinct to refuse her world any access to his.

  He hadn't wanted images of his private world spilling out across the globe for others to stare at in their moments of idleness.

  No. This life was too precious to allow it to be devalued like that.

  He'd assumed she'd understood that. Hoped that she would respect it. But she hadn't.

  In the end, though, she had deleted the photos and apologized.

  Perhaps that was why she'd allowed him to hold her like that. She'd finally understood something crucial about him.

  Now, though, the day would be long, even longer without her by his side. But, he was determined to honor his commitment to her. He would leave her to her own devices, give her the space to do what she'd come here to do.