Her Billionaire Sheikh

by Allen, Jewel

  “Centuries-old jewelry handed down from sheikha to sheikha, and it is now yours, my love.”

  Her voice was small. “I hardly deserve it.”

  “Yes, you do.” He lifted the earrings out, one by one, and moved aside her hair. Her ears were unadorned.

  Touching her ear felt like an intimate act. Sitting close to her made him want to set aside the box and pull her into his arms for a kiss, but he had to complete the presentation first.

  Her cheeks bloomed pink, and her lips trembled as he placed one earring and then the other. He took the necklace out and hefted it.

  “It’s heavy,” he whispered.

  She turned her back to him, and for a moment, he admired her slender neck. She was a beautiful woman, alluring to him, with her scent like a night jasmine in bloom. He draped the necklace around her neck, and she appeared to shiver, her profile with her eyes cast down and waiting.

  He put the clasp together, not wanting to release contact of her skin. She put a hand up to feel the necklace and then turned to him.

  Her eyes glimmered with a fire that burned deep. Until this moment, they’d talked of marriage, but nothing had cemented it more than this…this branding of sorts.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “Like the woman who wears it.” He reached up and caressed her cheek.

  She sucked in her breath and shivered with pleasure. Raising her eyes to his, her lips parted in invitation.

  He kissed her, body and soul, to let her know—without a doubt—that he loved her. She was soft and eager, deliciously pliant.

  After the kiss, he held her for a long time on the settee, and they spoke of their future and what love would bring.

  18

  Two weeks later, the royal palace

  Reese sat on a bench in the courtyard, listening to the chirping of birds around her. She focused on her breathing to try to calm her heart.

  Today, the main celebration on the occasion of her marriage to Samir would take place.

  After Samir and Reese signed the contracts as required by the law, she’d hardly seen him. Almost by way of proxy, Alliyah had swooped in. Samir’s younger sister, close to Reese’s age, acted as a fun and indispensable guide to all the bewildering traditions.

  On day one, they went for an all-female visit to the royal baths—a glorified spa—where women pampered Reese from head to toe. The next day, Alliyah took her to a henna party where a woman artist painted the dark reddish designs on Reese’s hands and feet for what amounted to be over three hours. Reese didn’t mind. During that time, Alliyah regaled her with stories of Samir, all the scrapes he got into as a child, and long-buried secrets from his teenagehood. Reese tried to keep herself from laughing so as to not disrupt the henna artist’s concentration, but the woman adjusted patiently to all the commotion.

  Reese admired the intricate stained designs on her hands and feet as she waited in the courtyard.

  Steps approached her, and, as expected, Alliyah had come to her rescue once again.

  “Time for your final dressing and makeup,” Alliyah said.

  Alliyah was a fine-boned woman, Samir’s opposite where he was tall and broad-shouldered. But she was no pushover. Samir tried to infiltrate the all-female preparations, and Alliyah chased him off, but not before he cast a longing glance at Reese.

  “He’ll have you to himself soon enough,” Alliyah said, making Reese blush.

  Alliyah’s eyes gleamed. “Samir’s acting silly, so in love with you,” she said. “And you’re no better.” She hugged Reese. “And I love it.”

  After hours of being made up, Reese wondered how she could possibly withstand the additional hours Alliyah had warned her the wedding festivities could go on for.

  But Reese didn’t mind too much. It wasn’t every day that one got married in the traditional royal Moroccan way.

  Dressed in a long-sleeved white gown with gold embellishments, Reese rode in a litter carried by four men in the traditional djellaba, or robe. She peeked at Samir through her delicate veil attached to her tiara and flowing down over her arms and torso. He was the most handsome man in the room, with his djellaba embellished as fitting the newly crowned king of Morocco.

  Reese would be known as Her Royal Highness Princess Lalla Nerissa. In private, Samir could call her Reese in that deep, husky voice.

  Alliyah had explained that already Samir was breaking protocol by allowing his bride to be seen in public during the celebration and bestowing an official title on his wife.

  Sweet, progressive Samir.

  Reese got out of the litter and joined Samir on an ornate, cushioned bench that could fit as many as six people. She gave him a shy glance, her heart racing at his nearness.

  With all the celebrations finally winding down, the realization hit Reese—they were now man and wife.

  Reese still couldn’t believe it. To have progressed from his acquaintance, to friend, to fiancée, and now wife, all in forty days, blew her mind. She loved this man who now sat beside her in traditional Moroccan garb. She, too, had been dressed as the brides of old, with a veil over her hair and hundreds of strands of jewelry.

  Reese recognized presidents of other countries and couples who wore sashes as befit royalty. But her mind was only on one person who was conspicuously absent.

  Where was Quinn?

  She’d tried to send him a message earlier, but the message had bounced. She felt relieved and worried in equal measure.

  For now, she could revel in her new life as the royal consort of Morocco’s new king.

  Under the folds of her skirt, she felt his hand search for hers. She clung to his, grateful for his love and care. He had been a delightful fiancé, and she could only imagine how much more tender he would be in their intimate moments.

  From the side, someone approached Samir. Reese leaned over to see who it was, and her heart thudded when she saw it was Axel.

  Good ol’ Axel, hanging in the shadows like a ravenous wolf.

  “Excuse me, darling,” Samir murmured into her ear. “I need to speak with Axel.”

  She gripped his hand. “Is something the matter?” she asked.

  “I guess I’ll find out.” He kissed the top of her veil. “I won’t be long.”

  But he was long. He missed three performances before he returned, and his expression had changed completely.

  Those dark eyes sought hers as though trying to dig into the depths of her secrets. His mouth was no longer smiling. When he sat down, he didn’t reach for her. He barely acknowledged her with a terse nod.

  What had Axel told him?

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Samir’s lips tightened. “Your brother, Quinn, has been arrested by interpol.”

  On what was to be the happiest day of her life, ugly reality came crashing in. Quinn? Arrested?

  How? Why?

  All these questions crowded her head. So why was Samir cold toward her? What did she have to do with Quinn’s arrest?

  “He is being extradited to the United States. I have made arrangements for someone to seal the information on this case.”

  “What was the charge?” she asked.

  “Conspiracy to steal the Moroccan heirloom jewels. He stopped short of implicating you.” His eyes burned into hers.

  “Answer me one question,” he said. “Did you or did you not plan to steal the Alaouite jewels?”

  Her head reeled. She averted her eyes and watched the dancers circle the stage in a blur. “I…I did.”

  Samir’s lip curled. “We will talk more about this later, but for now, smile, my dear. Everyone is admiring us.”

  Reese tried to focus on the dance performances, but she couldn’t. All she could think of was Samir’s withdrawal from her. A palpable anger radiated from him.

  Someone offered a toast. Samir’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he tossed back his drink, all the while watching Reese over the rim of his glass. When someone tapped their forks on their glasses for a kiss, S
amir hesitated.

  What was going on? Surely he knew she really loved him and had changed her plans.

  Samir lowered his lips on hers for a kiss. No matter what was going on, she still loved him. Trying to convey that in her kiss, she poured her heart into it. At first, Samir resisted. She could tell he didn’t want to kiss her. But then as seconds passed, his lips softened. He returned her fervor until he left her in a cloud of longing.

  Tonight, tonight, tonight, came the drumbeat.

  All may be well again. He loved her, didn’t he?

  They pulled apart to the applause of the crowd.

  But she knew as he leaned back, his eyes cold and distant once again, that nothing had changed.

  The reception seemed to go on for hours. As time wore on, Samir didn’t even try to hide the contempt that he seemed to have for her. He didn’t try to touch her, and he no longer gave her yearning glances.

  Reese’s heart ached. How could her past catch up to her here?

  She had to put up a brave face. Her mother-in-law watched her like a hawk, frowning. Even she could sense something was amiss. Reese faked a smile and pretended nothing was wrong. That this stranger sitting next to her had been her loving fiancé just a mere two hours before.

  Finally, it was over. Samir went one way, and Reese was whisked the other way by maids. They pampered her and readied her for her wedding night. Despite Samir’s coolness at the wedding celebration, she was sure it was an aberration. He would come to her as he had, a devoted husband.

  The maids sighed happily and declared Reese ready. She stared at her reflection in the mirror—her eyes bright and her cheeks pink from the heightened excitement of preparation, contagious from the maids whom she’d dismissed. She hoped Samir would find her beautiful.

  She had her own room, as was tradition for the king’s consort, next to Samir’s, and she went to hers now. Gauzy curtains surrounded the bed, pure in its whiteness like the rose petals that had been strewn around. She parted the curtain and climbed on the king-size bed, slipping between the covers.

  King-size indeed.

  She was his princess now. And yet she knew her future hung in the balance. At Samir’s hands.

  The sheets were cool under her feet. She couldn’t wait for Samir to warm them with her.

  She waited for what seemed like a long while. Maybe an hour or so? She had no clock to see the time, but in her simple faith, she knew he would eventually come.

  At least she thought he would.

  Tonight was their wedding night, and tomorrow, they would go on their honeymoon. A combination of travel through Morocco to see the countryside and to make their first joint appearances as king and his princess consort.

  Soon she felt drowsy, her eyelids growing heavy. She forced herself to stay awake despite the exhaustion from the day’s festivities. The bath had been relaxing, though, and now a languor crept through her bones.

  Someone knocked, and the door opened.

  Samir appeared in the doorway, dressed in street clothes. Even in slacks and that button-up shirt whose sleeves were carelessly folded to the elbows, he exuded power. An animal magnetism.

  And anger, not just coiled in that body, but especially in those dark, dark eyes.

  19

  Samir paused at the doorway, his mind in a frenzy of anger. He had to collect himself. It wouldn’t do to lose control, not when he’d taken some time already to wait, to make sure he wasn’t going in to see his wife in a rash moment.

  His wife. The co-conspirator in crime.

  What a laughable thing.

  The lamps were on by the bed, illuminating the gauzy curtain that screened her somewhat from his sight.

  Earlier in the day, after their wedding, he’d imagined their sweet consummation. Now, he wanted nothing to do with her. He only wanted to shore up whatever was left of his dignity.

  Axel had given him irrefutable proof of Reese’s deception, but Samir heard the truth from her lying lips.

  He walked over to the bed. A mistake of huge proportions. She blinked at him now, giving him a tentative smile. A smile of invitation.

  “Hello, darling,” she whispered.

  The endearment, once so appropriate, sounded like a taunt.

  She was covered by the sheet, but he could make out the form of her slender body. A body he’d adored and desired but realized now she’d used as a weapon against him. Or rather as bait, to lure and trap him into marriage.

  “You can’t possibly think that after your plot was exposed that you and I could still be man and wife?

  She sat up, her eyes huge. “I didn’t know what to think.”

  The sheet slid down, exposing the graceful column of her neck and the top of her nightgown. Hours ago, what he would have given to lie next to her. But now, that desire mingled with revulsion. He swallowed and averted his eyes. It wouldn’t do to be distracted from the matter that needed to be dealt with.

  “When you gate-crashed my party, you not only wanted to meet me. You wanted the Alaouite jewels.”

  She shut her eyes and then opened them, her expression full of regret. “I did.”

  He wanted to laugh. Else, he would weep. He thought she would deny it, but she hadn’t. And now the irrevocable course of action would have to proceed swiftly.

  He turned her direction, careful to place his eyes on her face, into her dishonest gaze.

  She averted her eyes.

  “Why didn’t you tell me when I asked you about the party? You had your chance. Maybe then I could have put the brakes on this madness. Before our wedding at any rate.”

  “I didn’t think it mattered.”

  His jaw clenched. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I mean, I loved you. Regardless of how I wanted to meet you, or what my intentions were, I had fallen in love with you. Isn’t that all that matters?”

  Her words struck him deep in his heart. He could hear the sincerity of her voice about her love for him, and yet now distrust was ingrained in him. Every single pronouncement now was cast in shadow and doubt.

  “I have my kingdom to think of too. And those jewels. What did you plan to do with them, if you haven’t already?”

  * * *

  Her heart pounded, feeling his pain. She had hurt him deeply, and she understood why, but she wished there was a way for her to make it all right.

  “I was going to give them back to you, for safekeeping.”

  He laughed harshly. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”

  Reese flinched at his words. She didn’t argue, however. She knew she had continued to wait for Quinn, so she could give him the jewels and ask him to never bother them again.

  He marched over to the elegant dresser with a large attached mirror. “Come,” he said, “and sit.”

  Confused, she followed as he said. Once sitting, she stared at their reflection: her, pale as a ghost, and he, dark as the devil. The fury in his eyes scared her.

  With deliberate movements, he opened the jewelry box and took out the choker necklace. He draped it around her neck and clasped it in place, the metal cold against her skin.

  “I want you to stare at the piece of jewelry you traded your husband for.”

  Something came alive in Reese’s soul. That scrappy Reese from her childhood who refused to stay down and wallow in self-pity.

  She lifted her chin and stared at him, defiant. “Take it off,” she growled.

  Surprise and admiration gleamed in his eyes, but he didn’t move.

  She tried to unclasp the necklace and, failing to do so, tugged on it impatiently.

  She froze as his fingers settled around her neck. Her spine arched at the surprising contact. But he was only unclasping the necklace, which slipped into her neckline. She caught it and stood, whirling around.

  “I don’t want it,” she spat out, throwing the jewels on the carpet.

  His eyes narrowed, and then she was drowning in his gaze. Despite all that their supposed wedding celebration had brought, despite
his accusations and fury…she still loved him. Still wanted him with every fiber of her being.

  At the realization, she staggered back until she hit the dresser with her hip. “You loved me, didn’t you?” she cried. “Do you no longer love me?”

  For a few seconds, he couldn’t answer. The sense of self-preservation was so strong, he had to lie through his teeth.

  “No,” he said in a clear voice that rang in the room. “I don’t.”

  20

  Reese wanted to weep. She could endure anything, even her incarceration for crimes real and imagined, but not that. Not his coldness, declaring he no longer loved her.

  She thought maybe they’d have a chance, but now…

  But she didn’t grow up in a tough neighborhood in New York just to quail from hardship. She could do this too. She needed to win him back somehow. Before it was too late.

  She stood tall before him and smoothed her hair and gown. He watched her how he used to, with desire. Perhaps he was telling the truth that he no longer loved her, but his eyes betrayed him. He looked away.

  “Samir,” she said, standing with her heart in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  He closed his eyes before glancing at her. “Sorry’s not going to cut it.”

  She didn’t really want to know, but she may as well ask, “What will we do, then?”

  “I could have our wedding annulled immediately. Our marriage has not been consummated, so that shouldn’t be a problem. I could, on top of that, have you jailed for conspiracy and fraud.”

  He had thought of everything. She shivered in her bare feet, even though the carpet was plush and comfortable.

  “Or we could stay married for three months if you prefer to avoid prison. Axel is the only one who knows the truth, and he has been ordered to keep it that way for now.”

  Hope surged in her chest even though she recognized the threatening ultimatum. “Did you say…?”

  “Don’t expect it to be as a normal marriage. You will stay out of my way, and I will stay out of yours, and to the world, it will appear as though you and I are married. Don’t worry.” His mouth twisted. “I will not share your bed.”