She was a good person. He couldn’t say that very often, not with certainty. She wanted nothing from him, save his company. Their time was a balm and he found himself in need of the healing only she could provide. Being with her made him quiet and content. Two very rare commodities in his life.
She had been startled by Dabir’s sudden appearance. Mazin had been, as well, but for different reasons. He had seen something as he’d watched her. Over the past six years he had become an expert at judging a woman’s reaction to his children. Some pretended to like them because they wanted to be his wife. Some genuinely enjoyed the company of children. He put Phoebe in the latter category.
He liked her. Mazin couldn’t remember the last time he had simply liked a woman. He also wanted her. The combination caused more than a little discomfort. Because he cared about her, he refused to push her into his bed, which was exactly where he wanted her to be. Holding back was not his style, yet this time it felt right.
She was different from anyone he’d ever known. He suspected she would say the same about him.
“Phoebe, you must know I’m a rich man,” he said.
She bit her bottom lip. “I sort of figured that out.”
“Does that bother you?”
“A little.”
She glanced at him. Her long blond hair fell down her back. He wanted to capture it in his hands and feel the warm silk of the honeyed strands. He wanted many things.
“I don’t understand why you spend time with me,” she said in a rush. “I like being with you, but I worry that you’re bored.”
He smiled. “Never. Do you remember yesterday when we went to see the meerkats?”
“Yes?”
“You fed them their lunch of fruits and vegetables. You were patient, feeding each in its turn, never tired.”
She sighed. “They were wonderful. So cute and funny. I could watch them for hours. I love how they stand guard, watching out for each other.”
“You told me you’d seen a show about African meerkats and how one was burned in a fire.”
She stopped walking. He moved to stand in front of her. As they had the previous day, her eyes filled up with tears.
“It tried to stand guard, but couldn’t,” she whispered. “They all huddled around it. Then a couple of days later, it left the group and went off to die.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek. Mazin touched it with his finger. “Tears for a meerkat. What would you give to a child in need?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“I know, but these tears are why I am not bored with you.”
She sniffed. “You’re making absolutely no sense.”
He laughed. “You would find others to agree with you. So tell me, what do you want from your life?”
Her blue eyes widened slightly. “Me? Nothing special. I’d like children. Three or four, at least. And a house. But before any of that, I want to get my degree.”
“In what?”
“Nursing. I like taking care of people.”
He remembered her dying aunt. Yes, Phoebe would do well with the sick.
“I would like—” She shook her head. “Sorry. This can’t be interesting. My dreams are very small and ordinary. Like I said, a small life. I’m not sure there’s all that much quality there.”
“On the contrary. You have much to recommend you.”
Then, against his better judgment, he pulled her close.
She came willingly into his arms, as he had known she would. Her body pressed against him, her arms wrapped around him. She raised her head in a silent offering, and he did not have the strength of will to deny her.
He touched his mouth to hers. This time she responded eagerly, kissing him back. He kept the contact light, because if he took what he really wanted, they would make love here in the public rooms of the castle. So he nipped at her lower lip and trailed kisses along her jaw. He slid his hands up and down her back, careful to avoid the tempting curves of her rear.
Her breathing accelerated as he licked the hollow of her throat. She wore a dress with a slightly scooped neck. The thrust of her small breasts called to him. It would be so easy to move lower. He could see the outline of her tight nipples straining against the fabric of her clothing. Desire filled him with an intensity that made him ache.
Good sense won. He returned his attentions to her mouth. She parted in invitation. He might be able to resist her other temptations, but not that one. He had to taste her sweetness one more time.
He plunged into her. She accepted his conquest and began an assault of her own. Just once, he thought hazily, and slipped his hand onto the curve of her hip. She responded by drawing closer, pressing her breasts against his chest and breathing his name.
Mazin swore. Phoebe was very much an innocent, and she didn’t know what she was offering.
He wanted her and he couldn’t have her. Not only because she was a virgin, but because he hadn’t told her the truth about everything. At first he’d withheld the information because it had amused him. Now he found he didn’t want her to know.
He forced himself to pull back. They were both breathing heavily. Phoebe smiled at him.
“You’ve probably heard this a thousand times before,” she said, “but you’re a really good kisser.”
He laughed. “As are you.”
“If I am, it’s because of you.”
The blush of arousal stained her cheeks; her lips were swollen. Her beauty touched him deep in his soul. He wanted to see her in diamonds and satin.
He wanted to see her in nothing at all.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“That you are an unexpected delight in my life.”
Her blue eyes darkened with emotion that he didn’t want to read. Slowly, tentatively she touched his mouth with her fingertip. Her breath caught in her throat.
“What do you want from me, Mazin?”
He found himself compelled to speak the truth. “I don’t know.”
CHAPTER 6
Phoebe pulled a chair close to the balcony and stared out at the stars. The balmy night air brushed against her bare arms, making her tremble slightly, although she couldn’t say why. It wasn’t that she was cold or even fearful. She knew in her heart that nothing bad could happen while she was on the island.
Perhaps it was the memory of Mazin’s kiss that made her unable to keep still. Something had happened that afternoon when he’d taken her in his arms. She’d seen something in his eyes, something that had made her think this might not just be a game to him. His inability to tell her what he wanted from her made her both happy and nervous. One of them had to know what was going on, and she didn’t have a clue. Which left Mazin.
She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her long white cotton nightgown fluttered in the breeze.
There had been a difference in his kiss today. An intensity that had shaken her to her core. Did he want her that way? Did he want to make love with her? Did she want to make love with him?
He was not the man she had fantasized about. In her mind, Mazin had no life, save that time he spent with her. Now she knew that he had been a husband. He was a father, with four sons. He had a life that didn’t include her, and when she was gone, he would return to it as if she’d never been here at all.
Were all his sons like Dabir? She smiled at the memory of the bright, loving little boy. Spending time with him would be a joy.
Several years of babysitting had taught her to assess a child very quickly. Dabir would no doubt get into plenty of trouble, but he had a generous heart and a sense of fun. She bit her lower lip. One child would be easy, but four? Worse, Mazin’s oldest was only a few years younger than she was. The thought made her shiver. Not that Mazin’s children were going to be an issue, she reminded herself.
Phoebe stared up at the stars, but the night skies didn’t hint at how long until Mazin grew tired of her, nor did they whisper his intent. Instead of meetin
g her during the day tomorrow, Mazin had arranged for them to spend the evening together. Somehow the change of time made her both excited and nervous.
No matter what, she told herself, she would never have regrets. Just as Ayanna had made her promise.
* * *
Moonlight sparkled on the ever-shifting ocean. Phoebe breathed in the scent of sea spray and nearby flowers. Whatever else might happen in her life, she would remember this night forever.
Mazin sat across from her, handsome as always. Tonight he wore a suit, making her glad she’d spent more than she should have for a pretty blouse in the hotel boutique. Her slim black skirt had seen better days, but it was serviceable enough. After nearly an hour of fussing with her hair, she’d managed to pin it up into a French twist. She felt almost sophisticated. Something she would need to counteract the effect of Mazin’s attraction by moonlight.
“I feel a little guilty,” she said as the waiter poured from the wine bottle.
“Why?” Mazin asked when the waiter had left and they were alone. “Have you done something you should not have done?”
“No.” She smiled. “But it’s evening. You should be home with your family.”
“Ah. You are thinking of my children.”
Among other things, she thought, hoping he couldn’t read her mind and know how many times she had relived their kisses.
“Dabir, especially,” she murmured. “Wouldn’t you rather be home, tucking him into bed?”
Mazin dismissed her with a shake of his head. “He is six. Far too old to be tucked into bed by his father.”
“He’s practically a baby, not a teenager.”
Mazin frowned. “I had not thought he would still need that sort of attention. He has Nana to take care of him.”
“That’s not the same as having you around.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Not at all. I just don’t want you to take time away from them to be with me. I know if I had children, I would want to be with them always.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “What of your husband’s needs for you? Would they not come first?”
“I think he’d have to learn to compromise.”
Mazin’s humor turned to surprise. “It is the children and the wife who must compromise.” He shrugged. “Most of the time. I was married long enough to have learned that on rare occasions the man does not come first.”
“I should think not.” She leaned toward him. “Tell me about your sons.”
“Why do I sense you are more interested in them than in me?”
“I’m not. It’s just…” She hesitated, then decided there was no point in avoiding the truth. “I find the subject of your children very safe.”
“Because I am unsafe?”
Rather than answer, she took a sip of her wine.
He chuckled and reached forward, capturing her free hand in his. “I know you, my dove. I have learned to read you when you avoid my eyes and busy yourself with a task. You do not wish to respond to my question. Now my job is to learn why.”
He studied her, his dark eyes unreadable. She wished she could know him as well as he seemed to know her.
“Why do you fear me?” he asked unexpectedly.
Phoebe was so surprised that she straightened, pulling her hand free of his. She clutched her fingers together on her lap.
“I’m not afraid.” She bit her lower lip. “Well, not too afraid,” she added, because she’d never been much of a liar. “It’s just that you’re different from anyone I’ve ever met. You’re very charming, but also intimidating. I’m out of my element with you.”
“Not so very far.” He patted the table. “Put your hand here so that I may touch you.”
He spoke matter-of-factly, but his words made her whole body shiver. She managed to slide her hand over to his, where he linked their fingers together. He felt strong and warm. He made her feel safe, which was odd because he was the reason she felt out of sorts in the first place.
“See?” he said. “We fit together well.”
“I don’t think that’s true. I don’t know why you spend so much time with me. I can’t be anything like the other women in your life.”
Now it was his turn to stiffen. He didn’t pull his hand away, but ice crept into his gaze. “What other women?” he asked curtly. “What are you talking about?”
She sensed that she had insulted him. “Mazin, I didn’t mean anything specific. Just that I can see that you’re a handsome, successful man. There must be dozens of women throwing themselves at you all the time. I have this picture of you having to step over them wherever you go.”
She wanted to say more, but her throat tightened at the thought of him being with anyone else, even though it probably happened all the time.
“Do not worry, my dove,” he said softly. “I have forgotten them all.”
For how long?
She only thought the question. There was no point in asking. After all, Mazin might tell her the truth, and that would hurt her.
“I can see you do not believe me,” he said, releasing her fingers. “To prove myself, I have brought you something.”
He snapped his fingers. Their waiter appeared, but instead of bringing menus, he carried a large flat box. Mazin took it from him and handed it to her.
“Do not say you can’t accept until you have opened it. Because I know in my heart that once you see my offering, you won’t be able to refuse it.”
“Then I should refuse it before I see it,” she said.
“That is not allowed.”
Phoebe lightly touched the gold paper around the box. She tried to imagine what could be inside. Not jewelry. The box was far too big—at least eighteen inches by twelve. Not clothes—the box was too slender.
“You won’t be able to guess,” he told her. “Open it.”
She slipped off the bow, then pulled the paper from the box. When she lifted the lid and drew back the tissue, her breath caught in her throat.
Mazin had given her a framed picture of Ayanna.
Phoebe recognized the familiar face immediately. Her great-aunt looked very young, perhaps only a year or two older than Phoebe was now. She stood alone, in front of a pillar. Behind her, open archways led to the ocean. She recognized the palace at once.
Ayanna wore a formal ball gown. Diamonds glittered from her ears, wrists and throat. With her hair pulled back and her posture so straight and regal, she looked as elegant as a princess.
“I’ve never seen this picture before,” she breathed. “Where did you find it?”
“There are photographic archives. You had mentioned that your aunt was a favorite with the crown prince. I thought there might be pictures of her, and I was right. This one was taken at a formal party at the prince’s private residence. The original remains in the archives, but they allowed me to make a copy.”
She didn’t know what to say. That he would have gone to all this trouble for her moved her beyond words. Still, she had to make an attempt to speak. “You’re right. I can’t refuse this gift. It means too much. I have a few pictures of Ayanna, but not nearly enough. Thank you for being so thoughtful and kind.”
“My only motive was to make you smile.”
She didn’t care what his motive had been. There was no other present in the world that could have had so much meaning. Phoebe didn’t know how to explain all the feelings welling up inside her. She wanted to go to Mazin and wrap her arms around him. She wanted to try to explain her gratitude, and she wanted him to kiss her until she couldn’t think or speak or do anything but respond to him. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, her heart ached and there was a hollow place inside that she couldn’t explain.
“I don’t understand you,” she said at last.
“Understanding isn’t necessary.”
She wondered what was.
He sipped his wine. “In two nights there is a celebration of the heritage of Lucia-Serrat,” he said. “While we are a tropical pa
radise, our roots are in the desert of Bahania. Along with a special meal, there will be entertainment. Dancers and music. Although this event is not on your Ayanna’s list, I suspect you would enjoy yourself. If you are available that evening, I would be honored if you would accompany me.”
As if she had other plans. As if she would rather be with anyone but him. “Thank you for asking me, Mazin. The honor of accompanying you is mine.”
He stared at her, his dark eyes seeing into her soul. “It is probably for the best that you cannot read my mind,” he murmured. “All that is between you and the death of your innocence is a thin thread of honor that even now threatens to unravel.”
Once again he left her speechless. But before she could try to figure out if he really meant what he said—and deal with the sudden heat she felt in her belly—the waiter appeared with their menus. The mood was broken. Mazin made a great show of putting the picture safely back in the box. They discussed what they would have for dinner. His comment was never again mentioned.
But Phoebe didn’t forget.
* * *
Two days later, a large box was delivered to her room. Phoebe knew instantly that it was from Mazin, but what could he be sending her? She unfastened the large bow and ribbon holding it in place, then lifted the cover.
Moving aside several layers of tissue revealed a dark blue evening gown that shimmered as she lifted it up to examine the style. Her breath caught in her throat. The silky fabric seemed to be covered with scatters of starlight. The low-cut bodice promised to reveal more than she ever had before, while the slender skirt would outline her hips and legs. It was a sensual garment for a sophisticated woman. Phoebe wasn’t sure she had the courage to wear it.
A note fluttered to the floor. She set the dress back in the box and picked up the folded paper.
She recognized the strong, masculine handwriting instantly. Besides, who but Mazin would be sending her a dress?
“I know you will try to refuse my gift,” he wrote. “You may even call me names and chide me for my boldness. I could not face your temper—for the thought of your anger leaves me trembling with fear. So I am leaving this dress in secret, like a thief in the night.”
The Sheik's Virgin Page 6
