The Sheikh's Rebellious Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 3)
Page 7
Still Tariq waited at the door. The tension was building in him. It felt like a fire had started within his middle. Just standing here, looking at Zoe, was proving to be more difficult than he had imagined.
Zoe went to a table by the french doors. There was a bucket with a bottle of champagne which Tariq had requested should be opened upon their arrival. Zoe picked up one of the glasses and filled it with champagne. She sipped it and then looked at Tariq.
She paused, gazing at him, and he could see the thought hovering behind her eyes. She was probably wondering whether it was safe to ask Tariq to join her. Of course it wasn't, he said to himself. He felt like a caged tiger waiting to be released.
Finally, she lifted the other glass and clinked the two together. "Won't you join me?" she asked softly. Tariq was sure he saw a flicker of a mischievous grin on her face.
Tariq felt something soften inside himself as he stepped into the room, trying to disguise his eagerness.
He strode across the room, watching Zoe filling his glass. When he was by her side, she handed him the glass and smiled. "Here's to us, my beloved sheikh," she said with a cheeky grin. Now she was trying to push him too far, he told himself. Who did she think was in charge here? Who was the real master of this situation?
He sipped from the glass, peering over the rim at Zoe. She lifted the glass to her mouth, bubbles making her crinkle her nose in a gesture he suddenly found irresistible. She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and laughed innocently. This woman was bent on driving him to insanity, Tariq thought.
Once more he saw the beautiful henna designs that traced a path across her wrists and up her forearm. The mere sight of them made something catch in his chest. He wanted Zoe in his arms. But, before he could place the glass down and take her, she moved away from him.
Tariq turned and watched her glide easily to one of the large sofas and sink down onto the cream colored seat.
He moved across and stood above her, looking down. She looked like she was enjoying teasing him, because every once in a while she glanced up at him, as if checking for his reaction to her cute little gestures. He felt as if he was a hunter tracking a prized catch, but one that could turn on him at any moment. He knew this was all a game to her, one that ensured she could avoid the most important, awkward moment of this evening.
Zoe flipped off her shoes and lifted her legs up, tucking her feet close to her. She patted the sofa by her side. "Have a seat," she said.
Was she intent on testing him? Didn't she know that if he sat down beside her, there would be only one outcome?
"I'll remain standing, if you don't mind," Tariq said.
Zoe's eyes narrowed. "You don't want to sit with your new wife?" she teased.
Tariq felt himself tighten. "I think you might need some time to settle into your new surroundings," he said, incredulous that he had passed up a chance to crush her against himself down on that sofa.
She looked unbelievably lovely gazing up at him like that, with a teasing expression filling the deep pools of her eyes. The way she was sitting had made the dress tighten against her body. Her full breasts strained against the fabric, and Tariq wanted to reach down and loosen them, swooping his head down onto their luscious curves. Her hips curved delectably, and he imagined running his hand around their softness. Tariq was sure he must be quivering with desire, but he was determined to contain the craving he felt. To show weakness would be to hand Zoe an easy victory.
Was this how his wedding night was going to be? He dare not touch her, because he did not know if he could restrain himself, contain the fierce hunger that had taken hold of him.
Zoe peered up at Tariq. "I must say, the wedding was quite something," she said.
"Tradition has its own charms," he replied.
"Do you think anyone has guessed?" she asked.
"Guessed what?"
Zoe's eyed him sardonically. "That all of this is a sham."
"Is it?" he growled.
"You know it is. That's the agreement."
"And you still believe nothing has changed in the past two weeks," he said.
"I wouldn't know about that. Life in your family's palace has been unreal. I've had so much to think about."
"And you have done your very best to avoid me," he said sharply.
Zoe scowled. "Avoid you? What gave you that idea?"
"It seems that every time I came near you in the past two weeks, you ran from me like a frightened animal," he taunted. He knew she would react, and she did.
She laid the glass heavily on the table in front of the sofa. "I don't run from anyone, Tariq."
"What about two years ago? I seem to recall chasing after you," he replied.
Her eyes lit with fury. "Don't bring that up. That's a low blow," Zoe said.
"Why?" he asked.
Zoe shook her head. "Nothing. Forget it." She seemed suddenly preoccupied, and he got the impression he'd touched a raw nerve. There was a pain inside Zoe that he hadn't seen before.
"But, why would I forget it? You ran from me, and I lost you. That is a fact you can't deny," he said.
Zoe threw her head back and gazed at the ceiling. All her former levity had evaporated in an instant.
"We're here now, Tariq. Isn't that enough? Things can't be as they were."
Tariq took a step closer to the sofa and made as if to sit down next to Zoe, but the sharp look she gave him made him hesitate.
He paused. What was she running from? Hadn't he done enough by consenting to marry her? Wasn't that sufficient to shatter the barrier of years of separation?
He looked down at her, and she suddenly seemed smaller, less defiant than she had looked while inspecting her rooms a short while before. Perhaps she needed time. Maybe he would have to wait. He started to turn away.
But then, Zoe did something that took Tariq completely by surprise. She stood up and faced him directly. Although she was a foot shorter than him, Zoe made up for that by the sheer vibrancy of her spirit, her defiant will. Her gaze burned with rebellion. It was as if she refused to allow him to end the conversation on his terms. Was this how marriage to Zoe was going to be? Maybe this would be more enjoyable than he had anticipated, Tariq thought. He withheld a grin.
"I know what you're thinking, Tariq," she said.
Tariq quirked a brow. "Really? And what is that?"
He saw her jaw tighten, fury in her eyes. How he liked her when she was maddened with rage!
"That you can bring me to your palace and make me your prisoner. You want to shackle me and cage me, don't you. Just like all those years ago," she taunted.
Tariq frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"You wouldn't allow me to be myself. Isn't that why we broke up?"
Tariq shook his head. "I believe you were the one who left me. Not the other way around, Zoe," he retorted.
"You know why?"
Tariq wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. Not on this of all nights.
"You stifled me. Stopped me from being myself," Zoe blurted out, a sob catching in her voice.
Tariq felt something churn in his middle, an unfamiliar sensation. He didn't want to see Zoe like this. Their wedding night wasn't turning out the way he had expected. Not at all.
"I think you're tired, Zoe," he said, knowing that it sounded feeble, and that he didn't even believe it himself. She was speaking from the heart. All the emotion of the day was spilling out now.
"I am not tired. I've never felt better," she said.
Tariq knew that was far from the truth. "Nevertheless. Perhaps some rest would be a good idea," he said reaching out to take her arm. She twisted away from him. Her rejection cut at him sharply. He knew that if this continued much longer it would only end in even more unhappiness.
Not tonight, he told himself.
Tariq drew himself up to his full height. He saw Zoe's eyes widen as he moved toward her. This time, she didn't resist when he took her gently by the arms. "Come, Zoe," he said gently but with
an undercurrent of authority. "Rest now. We can discuss these things another time."
They turned, and he slid an arm around her waist. She walked silently by his side as he led her into the bedroom. Tariq firmly drove away the thoughts that threatened to undermine him.
The wide expanse of the bed was so very inviting. And the woman by his side was calling to his spirit, beckoning him to take her, join them together in a delicious union.
Tariq halted by the side of the bed. He gazed down at Zoe, seeing the emotion in her eyes. It took every ounce of strength in his body to simply lean down and kiss his new wife on the forehead. It felt like a gesture of mere acquaintances, but Tariq knew the truth was so much more profound.
Perhaps the waiting would bring them closer, make his mission easier, ensure a victory for them both.
Right now, Tariq had to do something unthinkable on his wedding night.
He had to walk away from Zoe and leave her to sleep alone.
He released her and turned away. As he made his way toward the door, he looked back. Zoe was still standing by the bed looking disconsolate and watching Tariq.
As quickly as he could, Tariq closed the door behind him and immediately asked himself if he was now the greatest fool in the world.
CHAPTER NINE
The first thing Zoe did upon waking the following morning was recognize where she was, recalling the events of her so-called wedding night. She rolled her eyes and groaned.
Stretching out on the bed, she stared up at the white ceiling. The bed felt huge, especially since she was utterly alone. With her petite frame, her feet didn't even reach the end of the bed. It was too big for someone as small as her, she thought. She turned and stroked the long pillow and tried not to think about Tariq, but that was impossible.
This was where he would have been. If their marriage had been real, Zoe would have been waking up with Tariq alongside her. He would have been gazing into her eyes, his face a picture of satisfaction after a night of passionate lovemaking which would have left both of them sated and content.
As it was, Zoe was alone in bed, and probably would have to face this every morning until their arranged marriage had been undone. She sighed and rolled over, facing the window. She could see the sunlit desert, and the sight of it gave her a keen sense of the isolation of the palace.
Why did Tariq choose to live in such a place? Didn't he prefer the busy life of Qazhar City? She'd always imagined he lived an exotic lifestyle filled with the pleasures of the rich; good food; unlimited leisure; beautiful women.
That last thought caught her unawares, and she felt an unfamiliar sensation curl tightly in her middle. Women.
Now, Tariq would have to give up any involvement with other women. At least, until this was over. She wondered how he would cope with that, especially since there was no way Zoe and Tariq were going to get involved on a physical basis.
Or was that true? In the limousine on the way to the palace, he'd made it pretty clear that he wanted Zoe in every sense, now that she was his wife. That wasn't going to happen, Zoe told herself. She remembered the pain she'd felt when they'd split, and she didn't want to go through that again.
No. This marriage was in name only, and that was the way Zoe was going to keep it. Even if it meant cohabiting with a sheikh in a fairytale palace in the desert for the next twelve months. The reward was too great to give that up. In any case, she wanted to talk to him about spending time in Qazhar City. She had a global business to run, even if she had to administer it from the security of an office in this kingdom.
What did she need protecting from?
Tariq, for one thing, she concluded.
Zoe sat up in the bed and leaned back against the ornately upholstered headboard. The bedroom was huge. There was a ridiculously expensive looking dressing table with massive mirror. Zoe could imagine spending plenty of time in front of that. The walk-in wardrobe doors were open. Zoe's clothes had been hung there by the servants.
Now, there was something she was going to have to get used to. Servants.
Normally, Zoe was independent, a legacy of the upbringing her father had provided. He'd always taught her to stand on her own two feet, and Zoe had been grateful for those lessons so many times since her father had passed away.
Wasn't this a betrayal of his guidance? Now that she was temporarily dependent on Tariq, some of that independent spirit might well be undermined.
Zoe was determined that wasn't going to happen. Not if she had anything to do with it. Tariq and she both needed each other. Once that was over and done with they could both move on, consciences clear.
****
In his own bedroom, not far from Zoe's, Tariq opened his eyes and immediately wanted to close them again. He groaned. This wasn't what he had planned. Not at all.
The bed and the room felt grotesquely empty. Zoe's absence felt like a strange illusion. Any moment now she would step into the room from the balcony; she would look amazing, untidy, yet gorgeous. And, Tariq would take possession of her, making wild, passionate love to Zoe on this, their first morning together as man and wife.
But, that was not how things were, he reminded himself. They had an agreement and last night had been a wedding night to forget.
So, today was their first day as man and wife.
What could they possibly do that would begin to bridge the gap that had opened up between them yesterday?
The early morning sun seemed unnaturally bright this morning. How was he going to get through the day after what had happened last night?
Tariq sat up in bed and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He had tossed and turned the whole night, images of Zoe mercilessly tormenting him.
Of course, he'd done the right thing. Not wanting to take any kind of advantage of the situation, he had left Zoe in her own room, despite the desire that had been coursing through his body. Why was it that doing the right thing sometimes felt so bad, he demanded of himself.
Tariq sighed and gazed out the window. It was at times like these that the only place where he could calm his spirit was out there, in the midst of the heat, astride his favorite stallion, alone and untouchable. That was where he needed to be, right now. He paused, an idea springing into his awareness.
He swept out of bed and dashed to the bathroom, stripping naked and leaped into the shower, turning the temperature of the water down to the coldest possible. The cutting edge of the chill water invigorated Tariq. He suppressed a roar of shock. The water felt good, driving the night's insanity inducing thoughts from his mind.
The biting cold gave clarity to his thinking, and that was what he needed, right now. He dared not think of Zoe in her room next door, lying on the bed, alone. Tariq plunged his head beneath the icy torrent, but the water had only a partial effect. Tariq felt his passion rise, and his body responded, making him large. If he could have leaped into a frozen pool, Tariq would have done so right at that moment.
After a while, his body adjusted to the temperature of the water, and the purifying effect started to wear off.
He stepped out of the shower, dried himself and dressed in loose white shirt and casual pants. Tariq left his room and went downstairs. He gave breakfast instructions to the servants and then dashed to the stable building which was situated on the east wing of the palace.
He told the stablehand what he wanted and then made his way back into the palace. He headed to the dining room and found that the staff had made preparations to bring the food to the breakfast table. The table was out on the terrace and had already been set exactly to his specifications.
Tariq wanted his first breakfast with Zoe to be a memorable affair. He asked Numa, the young woman who would be Zoe's maidservant, to go upstairs and wake Zoe.
Then, Tariq strode onto the terrace overlooking the gardens, took his seat at the dining table and waited.
****
There was a knock at the door as Zoe stepped out of the shower. She'd needed to freshen up, especially since she cou
ld see that the day promised to be a hot one.
One of the young maidservants, Numa was her name, entered the room. She was plainly dressed in a cream colored robe, her head covered with a plain shawl of thin material. Numa had a kindly expression on her face, and Zoe could tell that the woman was eager to please the sheikh's new wife. That simple thought made Zoe busy herself choosing an outfit for the day.
Numa recommended something simple, and Zoe chose a plain, blue cotton dress and flat shoes. She dried her hair while Numa watched her, plainly awkward, witnessing her new mistress prepare herself without demanding any help. Maybe she'd have to get used to the idea of having a maidservant, Zoe thought. But, the last thing she wanted was to offend the young woman.
Once it was clear that Zoe was fully prepared for the day, Numa spoke, her voice quiet and matter-of-fact. "The sheikh requests your presence in the dining room for breakfast," Numa said.
"Really?" Zoe responded. He was already up and waiting for Zoe downstairs? She wondered how long he'd been awake. She couldn't resist a slight grin at the thought that he might not have slept at all.
"If you would like to follow me, I can lead you there," Numa said gesturing toward the door.
Zoe smiled at Numa and followed her out of the room. As they walked along the corridor, Zoe asked Numa a question. "How long have you been working in the sheikh's palace, Numa?"
The young woman seemed momentarily taken aback that the sheikh's new wife had deemed to ask her such a question. Zoe was determined she wasn't going to follow the rules set up by Tariq. She wanted to be on good terms with the staff, especially if she was going to be here for a year.
Numa's brows furrowed and she hesitated before replying. She was obviously unsure whether or not to reply. After a few moments, she spoke. "My family and I have served the sheikh for over five years. Since he took up residence here," she said.
"And, do you like it here?" Zoe asked.
Numa paused and smiled. "The sheikh is a very kind man. He is wise and generous. I have nothing but good things to say about living and serving here."