Love-Slave to the Sheikh

by Miranda Lee

  Admittedly, Ali’s suite was splendid, even by the most exacting standards. And the view was second to none, enhanced at that moment by the setting sun, its golden rays slanting off the Opera House and highlighting Sydney’s famous harbour bridge.

  She ran inside and grabbed him by the arm. ‘You have to come out here, Bandar, and look at the view. It’s absolutely gorgeous!’

  ‘I have seen it before,’ he replied, resisting the pull of her hand. Resisting the pull on his heart as well.

  ‘When?’ she asked, tipping her head on one side as she glanced up at him.

  ‘A few years back. I stayed here with Ali one weekend. We went to the races together. Which reminds me. We will be going to the races at Randwick tomorrow afternoon. I will take you shopping in the morning for a suitable outfit. And for some other things.’

  ‘What other things?’ she asked excitedly.

  He adopted a stony face. ‘Do not ask questions, Love-slave. Now, go and run us a bath whilst I order some food from Room Service.’

  ‘Shall I unpack your clothes as well?’ she asked, doing her best to act and look subservient, but Bandar could see the mischievous gleam in her lovely blue eyes.

  ‘The butler has already done that,’ he replied brusquely.

  ‘Oh, yes. The bowing and scraping Antoine. No wonder you’re spoilt, Bandar. Having this kind of service all the time. And living in such glamorous surroundings. Just look at this place. I’ve never stayed in anything as fancy as this.’

  ‘It is acceptable.’

  ‘Acceptable! My goodness, I’ve never seen furniture like it. Or lamps, or rugs. And what about those paintings on the wall? They’re absolutely stunning.’

  ‘They are not originals,’ he informed her, glancing at the well-known Renoirs and Picassos.

  ‘Who cares? They still look great.’

  He sighed. ‘I do not think the role of love-slave suits you, Samantha. Perhaps mistress would be better. Mistresses are allowed to have opinions. And argue with their lovers.’

  ‘Can’t I be both?’

  Bandar rolled his eyes. ‘How can you be both?’

  ‘I could be your mistress out of the bedroom and your love-slavein the bedroom. That way you can dress me in designer clothes and shower me with diamonds in public, but still order me around in private.’

  ‘You wish me to shower you with diamonds?’ he asked rather coldly. So! It was beginning already—the changing. An hour or two of sharing his lifestyle and she was thinking about diamonds!

  ‘Why not? You could give me a racehorse or two while you’re at it. I don’t come cheap, you know.’

  His teeth clenched down hard in his jaw, his facial muscles stiffening with disapproval and disappointment. He had honestly thought she was different. He should have known better.

  Her laugh startled him. ‘Oh, Bandar, you should see the look on your face.’

  He frowned. ‘You were only jesting?’

  ‘What do you think?’ she said, still smiling. ‘I like to buy my own things, Bandar. And earn my own money. With my brains. Not flat on my back. I told you. This weekend is just fantasy stuff. For me, anyway. You might do this kind of thing all the time, but it’s way out of my league.’

  His relief was still tinged with irritation. He did not like the way she was always judging him, and making him feel he had to defend himself. ‘I do not do this kind of thing all the time,’ he stated curtly. In fact he could not remember the last time he’d taken a woman away with him for the weekend.

  She grinned at him. ‘Yeah, right. You’ve got all the moves down pat, Bandar. That speaks for itself. I’m not complaining, mind. I love your hoity-toity lord-and-master routine. It’s going to be fun—and you’re right. Quite good for me. I already feel different. More confident, in a weird way. Is a love-slave allowed to feel confident?’ she added, with the most bewitching smile.

  His heart lurched in a most alien fashion. This was not good. Not good at all. She was supposed to be a distraction, not an addiction. Or an obsession.

  ‘Go run that bath,’ he ordered sharply. ‘Then get in. I will be along shortly.’

  ‘Yes, Master,’ she said, her lips twitching. ‘Whatever you say, Master.’

  The room felt very empty once she was not in it.

  Just as your life will be empty when she is not in it.

  Bandar scowled. What life? He’d probably be dead soon.

  She is better off without you, so don’t start complicating things. Besides, you are nothing to her but her sexual tutor. Her fantasy master. She might like you making love to her, but she does not reallylike you, or respect you.

  This last thought truly rankled. His male ego was not at all happy with such a thought. He was used to respect.

  No, you’re used to being bowed and scraped to all the time, like she said. That is not true respect. That is just your money talking.

  Sometimes Bandar hated his money. In his recently made will, he’d left all his racehorses to Ali and the rest of his estate to cancer research. But what if he lived? Maybe he should give it all away. Then perhaps he should come back to Australia.

  It had been a challenge to win Samantha Nelson’s body. It would be a much greater challenge to win her heart. And her respect.

  Meanwhile, he could do little to change the present situation.

  She wanted him to teach her everything this weekend? That was another challenge. Was he up to it?

  Bandar’s hand lifted to rub the slight ache which had gathered behind his eyes. In truth, he was not so sure. Suddenly he was feeling very tired.

  Samantha hummed happily as she poured some fragrant bubble bath into the simply huge corner spa.

  She’d decided the second she’d stepped out of that incredible helicopter onto the roof of the equally incredible Regency Hotel to put aside any doubts about this weekend and treat it exactly as it was: the fantasy of a lifetime and a simply fabulous adventure.

  Everything that had happened so far only confirmed that decision. The personal security man who’d escorted them to this hotel suite. The personal butler who’d been there to greet them. And the suite itself: superstar luxury and then some, including complimentary flowers and fruit and chocolates and champagne—and who knew what else?

  If she started taking any of this seriously she’d end up in some funny farm somewhere.

  If there was one last lingering fear it was that she might never find this kind of sexual happiness with another man. But Samantha appreciated that sexual happiness wasn’t everything in life—though it was difficult to appreciate it right at this moment.

  With the bath rapidly filling, Samantha set about stripping off her clothes and trying not to think that shortly she would be lying back, naked, in that water with an equally naked Bandar. She felt thankful for the coverage the bubbles would supply, which was crazy considering that episode on the helicopter.

  What did it matter if he could see her body through the water?

  Perhaps it had been too long since he’d touched her, she decided as she scooped her hair up with both hands and wrapped it into a knot on top of her head. There was no doubt that once Bandar started making love to her all sense of embarrassment swiftly fled her mind, replaced by a delicious feeling of abandonment.

  The bath was finally full, the temperature of the water just right. As Samantha lowered herself down into the fragrant bubbles she wondered just how many other women had run Bandar’s bath for him. And obeyed his every command.

  A lot, she forced herself to accept. So don’t start imagining that you’re anything special in his eyes. You are here just for his amusement and entertainment.

  ‘Excellent,’ he said as he walked briskly in, taking off his jacket and draping it over one of the many rails in the ultra-spacious bathroom. ‘Our evening meal will be delivered in two hours. That gives us time to bathe and relax together before it arrives.’

  ‘Relax together?’ she echoed. ‘Er…what does that mean?’

  ‘You
are asking questions again.’ He stripped with amazing speed before slipping down into the water and settling back in the corner opposite her. The spa bath was so huge not even their feet touched. He leant back into the corner, sighing rather wearily, Samantha thought, as he stretched his arms along the sides of the bath.

  ‘You sound tired,’ she said.

  Her observation brought forth another sigh. ‘A little,’ he admitted. ‘Perhaps I should not have ridden that horse of mine so hard this morning.’

  ‘Why don’t I give you a massage after our bath?’ she suggested. ‘That will make you really relax. You might drift off for a while.’

  He laughed. ‘Do you really think so? I rather doubt it. But you tempt me. Do you know how to give a proper massage?’

  ‘I’ve had enough of them myself to be able to make a good attempt. I used to have a remedial massage once a week during my soccer-playing days.’

  ‘You playedsoccer ?’

  ‘Soccer, cricket, and Australian rules football. I had four older brothers and a father who were right into sport. If I hadn’t done what they did, I would have been left home alone all the time. No way was my dad ever going to take me to dancing lessons.’

  ‘I see,’ he said.

  ‘That’s the reason I went on the Pill.’

  ‘Pardon? I do not understand.’

  ‘All that sport and training stripped every ounce of fat from my body. I was so skinny that I was late going into puberty. Even then I only had a period every six months or so. By the time I went to university things had improved somewhat, but I was shockingly irregular. When I did get my period it was very heavy. Too heavy sometimes. After a few embarrassing episodes I went on the Pill. And I’ve never come off. The doctor said it was good for me. He said that with my physical lifestyle I needed to put some extra oestrogen into my system, so that I don’t get osteoporosis when I’m older. A pleasing side effect was that I finally got myself some decent boobs. Decent enough for me, anyway.’

  ‘Your breasts are lovely,’ he complimented. ‘Your whole body is lovely.’

  Why did she blush? He couldn’t even see her body.

  ‘That is not flattery, either,’ he added. ‘I cannot seriously believe that other men have not found you as attractive as I do.’

  ‘There was this man once,’ she confessed. ‘A man I worked with here in Sydney.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He said he loved me.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He was married.’

  His eyes darkened. ‘Did you sleep with him?’

  ‘No. I told you. Before you, I hadn’t had sex in years.’

  ‘Did you want to sleep with him?’

  ‘For a moment or two. But I didn’t.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I…I didn’t believe he really loved me, and I didn’t want to be used.’

  ‘Did you love him?’

  ‘I liked him. We’d worked together for some years and we’d become close. But. no, I did not love him.’

  ‘But he was the reason you left Sydney and went to the country to work?’ Bandar said, startling her with his intuitive conclusion.

  ‘Well, yes. Yes, you’re right. Paulis the reason I left Sydney.’

  And the reason she wanted to go back?

  Bandar stared at her, but she was off in another world, her eyes not registering him. She was thinking about this man, this married man she claimed not to love. He did not believe her.

  ‘How old is he?’ he asked, trying not to sound as though he cared.

  ‘Who? Paul? I’m not sure. In his forties, I guess.’

  An older man. Possibly very experienced. Did she want to learn all about sex so that she could please this Paul in bed? Had she run away from him because she had no confidence in herself and in her femininity?

  ‘Is he handsome?’

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘He’s not unattractive.’

  So! Hewas handsome!

  Bandar had never been jealous of a man before. But he was jealous of this Paul. Blackly, insanely jealous.

  ‘You are not to contact him when you come back to Sydney,’ he declared. ‘You are not to sleep with him.’

  Her head shot up. She was clearly taken aback by his demands. ‘I have no intention of doing so.’

  ‘You are not lying to me?’

  She blinked, then smiled. ‘Would I lie to my lord and master?’

  ‘You are not taking your role seriously,’ he snapped. ‘You will get out of this bath immediately and have towels ready for me. You are to dry every inch of me. Very thoroughly. Do I make myself clear?’

  She nodded.

  ‘You will wear no robe. You will stay naked, and wet. And you will not speak. Is that also clear?’

  She opened her mouth, then closed it again before standing up a little shakily and climbing out of the bath.

  The dark triumph which washed through Bandar went some way to soothing his jealousy. And his ego.

  This Paul might have her respect. Buthe had her obedience.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘COME,’ he said, and held out his hand to her.

  Samantha took it, and Bandar helped her from the taxi onto her feet.

  They had come to the races at Randwick racecourse, as he’d said they would. But he had not taken her clothes-shopping this morning; they hadn’t woken early enough.

  Samantha liked the feel of Bandar’s hand around hers. It was such a simple intimacy compared to those they had shared last night, yet it sent tingles running up and down her arm.

  ‘You are very quiet today,’ he said as he drew her towards the members’ entry gate. ‘Is there something wrong?’

  Wrong?

  That depended on his definition of the word. Was it wrong the way he made her feel, the things he made her do? Was it wrong that she had surrendered herself to him to the extent that she would do even more if he asked her? Was it wrong that the strong-minded, feisty girl she’d always been seemed to have disappeared?

  Images flashed into her head: massaging Bandar all over, kissing him all over, going down on him. She’d fed him afterwards, her own satisfaction deliberately delayed. Then finally he’d made love to her, spoon-fashion, making her cry out loud. Then afterwards he’d used the ties of the complementary bathrobes to secure her hands behindhis back, keeping her body bound to his whilst he slept.

  But she hadn’t slept. She hadn’t been able to. She’d waited breathlessly for him to wake, her body wanting him instantly when he did. He’d brought her release with his hands this time, making her beg him to untie her. Which he had, eventually. But only to bind her in other ways. Her favourite had been with her wrists wrapped together, then stretched high over her head and attached to the bedhead.

  Bandar had been so right. She’d loved the delicious feeling of helplessness, of having no control.

  Light had begun to break over the city when she’d finally fallen asleep, not waking till nearly noon.

  And now here they were, at the races, with Samantha already wishing that they hadn’t come. Usually she loved the races, but the trouble was she loved being alone with Bandar more—much more.

  ‘I’m a little tired,’ she told him. A lie. She had never felt more alive.

  His laugh was low. ‘I can imagine. But I thought we needed a break. At least, I did. Now, let us go inside and see if we can pick a winner.’

  He paid their entry, then took her hand again, leading her through the crowds of people and over to the mounting yard, where the runners for the third race were already being saddled up. The horses’ coats gleamed in the winter sunshine, testimony to the good work of their grooms. Samantha tried to show an interest in picking out a potential winner, but she could not think of anything but the man by her side.

  Did she love him?

  Probably.

  There had been far too many moments last night when her emotions had been engaged as well as her body. When she’d been massaging him, for instance. She’d felt almost
maternal towards him, very caring and protective, which was crazy: he did not need protecting.She was the one who needed protection—from him.

  Bandar’s hand tightening around hers brought her sharply back to the present.

  ‘That man over there is staring at you,’ he ground out. ‘Do you know him?’

  She glanced over and almost died.