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The Sheikh's Last Mistress (Harlequin Presents)

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by Rachael Thomas




  Promoted to Princess!

  Destiny Richards knows she is playing with fire when she accepts charismatic Sheikh Zafir Al Asmari’s job offer, but it seems like a fair price to pay to start her life over again. Until the temperature reaches the boiling point and Destiny finds herself spending one out-of-this-world night with the sheikh!

  When powerful Zafir seduces English rose Destiny, he never anticipates she’ll hold the title of his Last Mistress. But their scorching affair has shocking repercussions. Now, before their nine months are up, Zafir must convince Destiny to make their arrangement more permanent!

  “I shouldn’t want you, I can’t want you, but I do.”

  Zafir kissed her neck and she leaned her head back against him, allowing him more access. A shiver of anticipation darted around her body as his lips touched every bit of naked skin on her neck.

  “Neither of us should want this, but we do.” Destiny’s words were a ragged whisper as her heart thudded in her chest. She wanted to turn to him, to press her lips against his, but at the same time she couldn’t break the tenuous contact they now shared. “Let’s just forget the rest of the world for a few hours, forget everything except what we feel now.”

  His kisses stilled and she felt his chest expanding against her back with every deep breath he took. Had she said too much—again?

  “I want to forget it all,” he said and pressed his lips into her hair, inhaling deeply as if taking in her scent. “I want you in a way I’ve never wanted a woman before, but I can’t be like other men. I have a duty to my country.”

  “Just for these hours of darkness,” she whispered and opened her eyes to look once again at the stars. “That’s all we need, Zafir, just the one night.”

  Rachael Thomas has always loved reading romance and is thrilled to be a Harlequin Presents author. She lives and works on a farm in Wales—a far cry from the glamour of a Harlequin Presents story—but that makes slipping into her characters’ worlds all the more appealing. When she’s not writing or working on the farm, she enjoys photography and visiting historical castles and grand houses. Visit her at rachaelthomas.co.uk.

  Books by Rachael Thomas

  Harlequin Presents

  New Year at the Boss’s Bidding

  From One Night to Wife

  Craving Her Enemy’s Touch

  Claimed by the Sheikh

  A Deal Before the Altar

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  RACHAEL THOMAS

  The Sheikh’s Last Mistress

  For James, Marian and David.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM THE SHOCK CASSANO BABY BY ANDIE BROCK

  CHAPTER ONE

  ZAFIR AL ASMARI WAS SCEPTICAL as he drove towards the old red-brick house, which was a stark contrast to the immaculate penthouse he’d just left in London. Was it possible the woman he was seeking really worked here? This riding school, nestled in the countryside beyond London, certainly looked as if it had seen better days—not at all where he had imagined finding Destiny Richards. Her reputation with difficult horses had made him travel from Kezoban personally to seek her out.

  He parked his black sports car and got out, unsure if he should even continue with this madness. He must have been misinformed. Destiny Richards wouldn’t be working somewhere so ordinary. Nothing about the old house or tired-looking sheds gave any hint of being professional stables. He was on the point of leaving when movement inside the shed beyond the house caught his eye.

  Zafir walked forward, his shoes crunching on the grit of the driveway, and, unable to contain his curiosity, looked into the building being used as the riding school. Through an open door, he could see a tall, slim young woman lunging a chestnut horse around her. Intrigued, he walked down the side of the house, intent on seeing exactly who this woman was. If she was Destiny Richards, he could settle his unease and confirm he’d done the right thing by hiring her before coming to meet her personally.

  ‘Ah, you have arrived.’ A sharp female voice behind him dragged his attention from the young woman and horse. He stopped, turning abruptly to an older and somewhat overenthusiastic woman. ‘Are you here for the Sheikh? To see Destiny work her magic?’

  Zafir narrowed his eyes. Instinct warned him of this woman’s insincerity. Her overzealous attitude jarred his nerves, but if she thought he was here for the Sheikh instead of actually being the Sheikh, then so much the better. He could ascertain if Destiny Richards did indeed possess the gift of horse whispering, something he very much hoped was true, but right now, given the surroundings, he was inclined to think he’d been misled.

  ‘I am and I don’t have time to waste. Where is Ms Richards?’

  ‘My daughter is in the school. This way.’ She gestured with a smile which didn’t reach her eyes, backing up his first impression. It didn’t bode well that Destiny Richards was this woman’s daughter. First impressions counted for a lot in his culture and he was far from impressed, but had to remember this might be Majeed’s last chance.

  Without another word, he made his way to the school, aware the woman was following. Quietly he entered, stood against the wooden interior wall and watched. For a while the young woman he now knew was Destiny Richards had no idea he was there and he couldn’t help his gaze sweeping over her, appreciating her tall and shapely figure and how the tight-fitting jodhpurs and T-shirt clung, in a way only a hot-blooded male could, just as he’d always done before duty had brought him to heel.

  Her dark hair was pulled up high on her head into a ponytail, which swayed like a dancer to an unheard tune with each move she made. She was distracting and not at all what he’d expected, especially after having just met her mother.

  The horse slowed to a walk, then stopped at her calm command. Destiny waited for the horse to walk to her and, as she touched its face, Zafir could hear the sound of soothing words, seeing the obvious connection of trust the horse had with her. Then she turned round, her eyes meeting his instantly.

  Despite the distance something passed between them, jolting him with its intensity. She was beautiful and, for the first time since he’d inherited the title of Sheikh of Kezoban, he felt his interest stirring, awakening everything he’d turned his back on. He pushed that thought aside. Now was not the time to be distracted by a woman, not when Royal protocol dictated he had to select a bride. As the last remaining member of his family, providing his country with an heir was paramount.

  ‘Destiny, this man is here for the Sheikh. You know, the one we told you about.’ The older woman’s voice held a hint of warning, despite her smile, and the sudden tension in the air between mother and daughter was palpable, like storm clouds about to break over a hot city.

  He crossed the sandy surface towards Destiny as her mother continued to talk. He was sure he saw a flash of defiance rush across Destiny’s beautiful face as she glanced briefly at her mother before looking at him once more. Her fine brows arched in disbelief and her lips set into a firm line of disapproval. He couldn’t help wondering what kissing away that disapproval would be like, c
onfident it would be as intense as the attraction he felt for her.

  ‘I remember.’ Her voice was soft and gentle, but he didn’t miss the underlying note of determination. She stepped towards him, the horse moving with her, staying loyally at her side as she offered her hand in a Western handshake and smiled at him. ‘Destiny Richards. How can I help you?’

  A smile pulled at the corners of his lips. He liked the feisty spirit she was working hard to conceal, reminding him of a young horse that would rather run free with the wind across the desert sands than be confined and controlled. He’d had to put such ideas to one side after his father had died six years ago, his days of being the wild playboy Sheikh his father despaired of abruptly curtailed. For the first time since that day he wished he was free; the attraction for this woman was so intense all he could do was imagine taking her in his arms and kissing away her defiance.

  He took her hand and the jolt of something new and exciting sizzled through him. The deep brown of her eyes, which reminded him of polished mahogany, mirrored the attraction. ‘Forgive me for the intrusion. Your ability to work with horses that have been traumatised has come to the attention of the Sheikh of Kezoban. He has made an arrangement with the owners here for you to travel to Kezoban to work with his prized Arabian stallion, but he sent me to personally meet you before my return.’

  The deceit slipped easily from him. He was preserving his sanity by omitting the truth, sure that her mother would make matters far worse for him and probably Destiny if she knew his true identity.

  ‘I see. And if I don’t wish to travel to Kezoban?’ That firm edge in her voice was more pronounced now.

  ‘Then we will have a problem. It is all arranged—subject to my confirmation that you are as gifted with horses as the Sheikh has been led to believe.’ Zafir pressed his lips firmly together as Destiny’s spirit shone through. Would she have spoken to him in such an honest and open way if she’d known he was the Sheikh, the man who’d made the deal for her presence in Kezoban?

  ‘I have to see the horse first before I commit or agree to anything.’ Was that a challenge he saw glittering in those dark eyes? He liked a challenge. He raised his brows in a silent answer.

  ‘Destiny! What are you doing?’ Her mother’s shock was obvious. So too was his. He’d almost forgotten she was there. For a few brief moments as he and Destiny had spoken, it had just been the two of them. Nothing else had existed. The exclusive contact between him and a woman was not a sensation he was accustomed to at all.

  ‘You may leave us.’ The command in his voice was brittle as he turned his attention to the older woman, but it worked. She bowed her head very slightly in deference to him and backed away. So Destiny hadn’t inherited her spirit from her mother.

  ‘If you will excuse me, I need to deal with this horse.’ Destiny didn’t wait for his consent, but walked away. He stood and watched her go, slightly unnerved by the fight for control he was experiencing, a totally new concept for him.

  Determined to settle the agreement, Zafir followed at a distance as Destiny led the chestnut horse out of the school. Usually he was more than able to appreciate good horse stock, but right now his attention was riveted to the very alluring woman leading the horse. Her strong will and defiance stirred something deep inside him, something he had shut out of his life years ago.

  Desire.

  Why this woman? She was beautiful, but not in the glamorous way he’d liked his women before his days as Kezoban’s ruler. She had an earthy innocence about her and was far from compliant if the last minutes were anything to go by, but there was something which had connected to a forgotten and neglected part of him the second their eyes had met.

  She walked the horse into a stable, shutting the door, making it clear he was to stay outside. He leant his arms on the top of the stable door, watching as she untacked the horse and brushed it down, her gently rhythmic movements appreciated by the animal as it pulled hay from the rack, munching noisily.

  ‘So, have I passed the test?’ She paused and looked at him over the back of the horse, directly into his eyes. Again he had the distinct impression a challenge was being laid down—and he never refused a challenge.

  ‘Yes. I have seen enough.’

  ‘But you have not passed my test.’ She angled her head slightly, her ponytail swinging gently. ‘I want to know exactly what is expected of me.’

  Zafir could only admire her courage. Nobody challenged him. Ever. Would she have been so unguarded if she knew who he was? Briefly he was tempted to tell her, but he was enjoying this sparring so he decided to allow her to continue under the misapprehension of his identity that her mother had started. He had no wish to set her right just yet.

  ‘You will travel to Kezoban where you will work with Majeed, the Sheikh’s prized stallion.’

  She looked at him, her brown eyes regarding him warily as she resumed brushing the horse. Zafir didn’t appreciate the look of mistrust in those deliciously dark eyes, but he had no option other than to wait patiently for her response—and waiting was something he was not used to.

  ‘What is the problem with the stallion?’ She glanced briefly at him as she finished with the horse and came to the stable door.

  Zafir stood back to allow her out, shocked that already her question was dragging up the past. He knew that would have to happen if he ever stood a chance of soothing Majeed’s tortured spirit, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Neither had he envisaged being under her scrutiny.

  ‘The stallion was involved in a tragic accident which claimed the life of the Sheikh’s sister.’ He was strangely detached as he spoke of his sister, referring to that night as if it hadn’t really happened. Despite this temporary reprieve from guilt, he knew it didn’t lessen the blame he’d set firmly at his own feet. He was the one Tabinah had been running from, the one who had made her unhappy. The knowledge of that would never leave him.

  * * *

  Destiny looked at the handsome man who seemed somehow unsuited to the jeans which hugged his long legs and the light blue shirt, open at the neck, giving her a tantalising view of dark hair against olive skin. She already knew him to be a man of the desert and, despite his casual clothes, she could just imagine him in white robes. He had a raw essence of power about him and was handsome enough to melt her vulnerable heart. But from the upright stance of his body and the regal tilt of his chin, she knew he was also very much used to giving orders—and having them obeyed.

  Well, she wasn’t about to be ordered around by anyone. She’d had enough of being the one who always had to give in to the demands of others. Her stepmother had gone too far this time, accepting the job before she’d even spoken to her. Everything was about money for her, never the person and least of all the horse involved.

  Her stepmother was as cold as her father and equally controlling, which only reinforced Destiny’s need to escape them. She couldn’t stay here any longer. The stables might be entwined with precious childhood memories of her mother and the few short years of happiness before her death, but she had to leave. Just as her younger sister, Milly, had done. And she had to do it before her stepmother completely obliterated those happy memories.

  ‘I’m very sorry about the situation the Sheikh is in, but I cannot help.’ She kept her gaze locked with his, trying to meet his aura of power with determination, wanting to convey the message that she would not be controlled—not any more.

  His eyes, as black as onyx, narrowed with irritation and his jaw clenched beneath the dark trimmed beard, so precise it was barely more than stubble. ‘That is not the arrangement I have come to with Mrs Richards. She assured me you would be available to travel to Kezoban immediately.’

  The words fired out at her but she stood her ground, adamant she would not to be ordered around be either this superior man or her stepmother.

  ‘Firstly, I am her stepdaughter and, secondly, she had no right to make any such arrangement without consulting me. Not even with a wealthy Sheikh. So I sugg
est you look elsewhere for the help you require.’

  She moved towards him, intending to walk past him and away, wanting only to turn her back on this man who exuded a potent mix of masculinity and sexuality which terrified yet enthralled her. His eyes, full of fiery intensity, met hers as she came level with him, but it was the enticing aura of this powerful man as she came close—too close—that made her step falter. It became impossible to do anything other than stand and look directly into his handsome face.

  Her stomach somersaulted and, like a teenager in the throes of a first love, her heart skipped a beat. Not that she knew anything about first love, having shied away from all that, using horses as her shield. She was angry with her stepmother and not at all affected by this exotic man. She reminded herself of that fact, but struggled as his gaze continued to hold hers.

  ‘The deal is agreed, Miss Richards. You will travel to Kezoban in two days.’ The control in his voice, the hardened words and the command he exuded made anything other than looking up at him impossible, even though she wanted to get as far away from the effect he was having on her as possible. The anger glittering in the blackness of his eyes reminded her of the night sky, full of stars.

  For the last sixteen years, since her stepmother had become a permanent feature in her and her younger sister’s lives, she’d done her stepmother’s and father’s bidding, putting aside all of her dreams and aspirations. She’d wanted to be there for Milly as she grew up but more recently it had become all about helping Milly set herself up in London and escape their father’s oppressive control. Now that Milly was settled and happy it was time she did the same.

  Milly had left home earlier in the year and there was no one to protect now, no one to look out for but herself. She was free to do what she wanted. Now this man, with his high-handed attitude, thought he could waltz in and more or less demand she go to a desert country because it was what his Sheikh wanted. Surely the Sheikh had enough money to hire the top professionals in the field.

 

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