The Sheikh's Rebellious Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 3)

by Albany, Cara

  Zoe felt the sincerity of Numa's remarks. There was a simple earnestness about the way Numa had spoken that impressed Zoe.

  They made their way down the flight of marble steps that ended at the expanse of the hall. In the bright, early morning sunshine, it looked so different from the previous night when Tariq had given her a quick tour of the palace's lower floor. But then again, last night, Zoe hadn't felt the lightness of spirit that she felt at this moment.

  She gazed up at the high ceiling, marveling at the elaborate mosaic decorations, the curving arches that swept all around the upper reaches of the hallway. Arched windows were open and let in a flood of hazy light, tinged with the ochre of the desert. Corridors stretched away from the hall toward other parts of the massive palace.

  A voice caught her attention. "Good morning," she heard Tariq say.

  Zoe turned toward the doorway to the dining room and saw Tariq standing there. In spite of all her reservations, despite the resolutions she had made in her room, seeing Tariq dressed in his white shirt and tight pants caused a ripple of emotion to sweep through her. He looked fresh, and she was briefly disappointed. She had assumed he would be exhausted looking, having spent his wedding night alone. But, he looked rested and calmer than she would have imagined.

  Zoe walked over to Tariq. She was aware that Numa was watching them. Zoe saw Tariq smile and spread his arms out wide. She allowed him to hug her gently and kiss the side of her cheek.

  "You smell wonderful," he said quietly.

  Zoe leaned back and ran her gaze down Tariq's long body. "And you've dressed down casual this morning," she said.

  "Do you approve?" he asked.

  She squinted at him. "I'm saying nothing," she teased.

  He grinned at her. "If you'd like to join me, we can have breakfast together," he said.

  She followed him into the dining room. Through the open French doors, she saw the breakfast table out on the terrace. Tariq led her outside and pulled up a chair, making it clear he wanted her to sit. Zoe sat down on the chair and felt Tariq push the seat in beneath her. She resisted the urge to turn and gaze up at him. Even trying to politely thank him might run the risk of encouraging Tariq to do something they might both regret. Like kiss her.

  Tariq moved around the wide, circular table and took his seat. This wasn't their first breakfast as a couple. During their previous time together there had been plenty of romantic starts to the day over their favorite foods. Sharing breakfast with Tariq had always been a simple pleasure for Zoe. She wondered how this was going to compare. They were man and wife, after all.

  Zoe took in the view from the terrace. Palm trees had been strategically planted to provide shade without obscuring the landscaped outlook of green grass and cultivated flower arrangements that had obviously been tended by expert hands. A cool breeze eased through the trees, and the air was filled with a riotous mixture of scents. This truly was paradise planted down in the middle of a wilderness.

  "How did you sleep?" Tariq asked.

  "Fine," she replied. His narrowing eyes told her Tariq probably didn't believe that. "And you? Did you sleep at all?" she retorted.

  "I always sleep well. Especially here in the palace," he said gazing out across the garden.

  Zoe decided not to push him on that. It would be best not to bicker over breakfast.

  He looked across at Zoe. "How is your room?"

  "Big and very luxurious," she replied. "But, you already know that, don't you?" she said quirking a brow at him.

  "All the rooms are the same size."

  "Even yours?" she asked.

  "Of course," he replied casually.

  "And you need this much space for what reason?" she asked.

  He shrugged. "Because I'm a sheikh," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His brows furrowed. "Do you expect me to live a modest life? I'm not a hermit in a desert cave. Although, I have to admit, there are times when that kind of life might appeal."

  Zoe frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

  "Nothing," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  The servants brought the food and laid the numerous small platters out on the table. There was a selection of plain yogurts, dried fruits, hummus and scrambled eggs. One of the most beautiful silver teapots Zoe had ever seen contained a generous helping of dark tea which she poured into her small china cup and sweetened from a sugar bowl.

  They ate in silence for a while. Zoe hadn't realized just how hungry she was. Eventually, she broke the silence.

  "How much time do you spend out here?" she asked.

  "Almost every day. I'm in Qazhar City only occasionally."

  "The life of the busy sheikh," she said with more than a hint of irony.

  He frowned. "Do you disapprove of the way I live my life?" he asked.

  "I hardly know anything about you, these days," she replied. "How could I possibly disapprove?"

  "It's just that you seemed to have judged me already." He gave her a wry grin. "And we've only been married a day," he joked.

  Zoe turned to see if anyone was standing behind her. They were alone. "I'm not judging you, Tariq. You have your life. And I have mine."

  Tariq's eyes narrowed. "And that's the way you'd like it to remain?"

  Zoe sighed and sipped some tea. Placing the cup down, she gazed across at him. "We both know what we're doing, Tariq. Let's keep things simple," she said. Zoe immediately regretted the harshness of her tone. He didn't deserve that. He'd been nothing except courteous to her since she'd come down from her room.

  Zoe saw Tariq's gaze shift toward the garden. "Did you tell me you have a stable here?" she asked.

  He turned and nodded. "I have a few horses that I ride when I get the chance. I also use them for the polo competitions, of course. But, that's just play, as I'm sure you would agree. Completely superficial."

  She had offended him. It was clear to her that she had stepped over a line. "Where do you ride to out there?" she asked glancing out in the direction of the distant desert.

  He lowered his head and gazed across the table. "You really want to know?"

  "Of course."

  "There are places only I know. Secret places where I can escape from the tribulations of the world" he murmured, his eyes becoming darkly distant. Zoe wondered what he had to escape from. Surely he had everything a man could want. Wasn't his life already perfect?

  Before she had a chance to press him further he continued. "That is my true land. The desert. It's in my blood," he murmured. He turned to Zoe. "It's where I feel truly at home." He glanced up at the exterior of the palace and shrugged. "Here is merely a temporary shelter."

  "Some shelter," Zoe replied. "But, the horses you ride in the desert. Surely they must be pure breeds. It's a difficult environment for a horse," she said.

  "They are well tended by my loyal staff. In any case, the horses love the freedom of the wilderness. It brings out their true spirit."

  The subject had piqued Zoe's interest. She could tell he had a genuine affection for his horses. It wasn't merely the casual indifference she saw in so many of those involved in the polo circuit. For them, the horses were secondary to the social benefits gained by mixing with the right people. Perhaps she had misjudged him, after all.

  "Perhaps I can interest you," he said.

  "In what?"

  "A ride in the desert," he said bluntly.

  Zoe paused, images flashing into her mind. Hadn't that been one of her fantasies? It might be exciting to do that. She shook her head. "I don't know if I'm ready for that."

  "It will be a welcome break from all the stress you've been under lately."

  "I haven't been under pressure," she retorted, feeling stung.

  Tariq smiled and gave her a disbelieving look. "All of this must come as a shock to you. This is a different world from what you're used to."

  She knew he was trying to be kind, attempting to ease her gently into this strange new life.

  "I know that
," she said.

  Zoe considered his offer. Riding horseback across the desert dunes in sweltering heat alongside the man she had just married? Now there was an offer she couldn't possibly refuse, she told herself.

  She'd never ridden in the desert. All of her involvement with horses had been either as an inexperienced veterinarian, or in her capacity as event organizer. She glanced across at Tariq, who was still awaiting her reply. He lifted his china cup to his lips and took a sip. His eyes watched her across the cup's rim. He was sizing her up. She was sure of that.

  Zoe realized that of all the experiences she hadn't yet tried, chief amongst them was being truly alone with Tariq, and with no-one around for miles. Could she trust him? Could she even trust herself?

  Tariq put his cup down. "Well?" he asked, brows rising.

  Zoe drew in a deep breath and nodded vigorously. "Okay. Let's do it," she stated.

  She saw him quirk a brow. Had she handed him an easy victory?

  "I'll get the stablehands to fix you up a mount," Tariq said.

  He suddenly looked satisfied. There was a fresh brightness in his eyes, and the crease of a smile at the corner of his mouth. She knew that look. He got it whenever he thought he had won even a minor victory.

  "Let's get this straight," she said quickly. "I don't want to go too far."

  Tariq squinted at her, puzzled. "I'll make sure of that," he said with a hint of irony.

  Was he playing with her?

  He stood and tossed his napkin onto the table. "Numa can help you choose a suitable outfit," he said. He started toward the door. As he passed her, he paused, laying a hand softly upon her shoulder. His touch triggered an instant rush of sensation down her spine. She tried to subdue the feeling, drive it away, but it ran its course in spite of her best efforts.

  Zoe glanced up at Tariq. His gaze was filled with a mixture of triumph and dark, barely contained, desire. Once again she wondered if she'd made a wise choice.

  "You're going to love it, Zoe," he said and smiled warmly.

  Zoe merely nodded, any kind of smart reply frozen on her lips.

  Then he was gone, and Zoe let out a long sigh. Something twisted in her middle, a warm mixture of anticipation and concern. Why had she agreed to do this? Was she testing herself? Being alone with Tariq was going to expose her to dangers. There was no doubt about that.

  Compared to him, the desert was going to be easy. Maybe she just wanted to be out of the palace. They'd have plenty of time over the coming months to settle down to whatever kind of domestic life they could carve out of their arrangement. Glancing quickly around, Zoe let out a disbelieving gasp. Just your normal domestic life in a desert palace, she thought with a wry smile.

  But, why had these sensations suddenly taken hold of her? She'd felt the same this morning when she'd woken up and realized she was alone. Zoe closed her eyes and tried to press down on those sensations, drive them to a corner of herself where she could ignore them. But, they were insistent and unyielding.

  Suddenly the prospect of a wild race across a savage and unforgiving terrain seemed like a perfect solution.

  Zoe stood and drew in a deep breath. Time to show Tariq what she was made of, she thought. If he thought she was just a spoiled brat with no backbone, and no spirit of adventure, then he was in for a surprise. A really big surprise.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Zoe held on tight to the reins of the horse as it raced across the flat desert plain. She gripped her thighs against the horse's sides, feeling the ribs of the taut, lean animal press against her soft flesh. Her hair, loosened from inside the hood of her desert outfit, flew behind her in the wind as she leaned low over the top of the horse's lowered head. The horse's neck stretched back and forward, driving relentlessly on. The thudding of hooves on sand was a throbbing, hypnotic beat that matched the racing of Zoe's heart. The hot desert wind blasted her face with an exquisite warmth.

  The speed was exhilarating, and she suddenly felt like letting out an exultant yell at the top of her voice. She'd forgotten the elation she could feel when riding. Especially like this.

  Then, suddenly, next to her, Tariq appeared, atop his own mount. His eyes blazed toward Zoe, his lips stretched wide with a beaming grin. In contrast to the heady excitement Zoe was experiencing, Tariq looked as if this was a perfectly normal ride across the desert. He leaned slightly forward, reins gripped tight, his taut, lean frame hidden beneath his white tunic. The sides of his white headcloth flapped open revealing the face of a man in his element. She'd never seen him look like that.

  Tariq pushed his white stallion onward, matching the pace of Zoe's eager black mare. For a few moments, the hammering hooves of both horses matched one another in a primal, pulsing rhythm. It was as if Tariq and Zoe were dancing together, racing at speed across this unearthly landscape. She had to hold back the jubilant grin, not wanting to expose the sheer joy she felt.

  Instead, she leaned forward and dug her heels back into the mare's flanks, charging forward, speeding away from Tariq. She was sure she saw his eyes widen in surprise as she raced ahead of him.

  The gauntlet had been thrown down.

  Zoe laughed as she heard Tariq emit an outraged roar. She glanced back and saw the shocked expression on his face.

  "Come on, slow coach," she cried out to him. "That the best you can do?"

  Before she turned around to focus her attention on the dune that was just up ahead, Zoe saw Tariq's features tighten, his jaw firm, his brows furrowing.

  Then she gazed ahead, listening with one ear for the sound of Tariq's stallion chasing to catch up.

  Moments later, Tariq's stallion was by her side. Tariq peered across at Zoe. There was a feral look on his face. The challenge had been set, and he had delighted in accepting it.

  "You think you're a better rider than me?" he roared above the sound of the pounding hooves.

  Zoe laughed, raising herself up in the saddle. "Of course I am, Tariq," she taunted.

  "Never," he cried out. "This is my domain. You will never best me out here."

  Then she saw Tariq glance forward at the approaching dunes. She saw his eyes widen with a sudden alarm, and he suddenly tugged on his reins, forcing his stallion close to Zoe's mare. Her horse reacted, suddenly slowing, as if sensing the proximity of the other horse. Zoe was thrown to one side, but she tightened her grip on the reins and clamped her thighs tight against the sides of her mount.

  Then Tariq reached over and grasped the reins of Zoe's mount and jerked on them hard, lifting the mare's head up, slowing its pace. Zoe whipped her head around and glared at Tariq, seeking an explanation. He tugged on the reins a few more times, each time slowing the pace of Zoe's mount, until both horses had slowed to a measured trot.

  Zoe tried to slow her rapid breathing. Her heart was still thudding with leftover adrenalin, and with irritation at Tariq's action. "Why did you do that?" she gasped.

  After a few more yards both horses came to a standstill.

  Tariq released the reins of her horse and peered up ahead. The flat plain of sand ended in a group of high sand dunes which stretched all around them. "If your horse hit that dune at the speed you were doing, you might have been thrown," he explained.

  Zoe peered ahead. The dune was steep, rising dozens of meters high. She could see the tumbling drifts of sand sliding down the sides. Maybe Tariq was right. The footing for the horse would have been less secure, especially at that pace. But, surely he could have found another way to halt her progress toward the dune. Why did he always have to assert himself like that? Why the continual need to take control?

  Zoe's breath began to calm. Tariq glanced across at her, his eyes fixed on the front of her loose white desert outfit. His gaze drifted across to the loose thickness of her hair. "You might want to cover up. The sun will get to you pretty fast if you leave your head uncovered like that," he suggested.

  Zoe gathered the folds of her outfit around her neck and started to wrap the material of her head covering around hers
elf, finding it more tricky than she'd anticipated.

  Tariq pulled his stallion closer and leaned across. "Let me help you with that," he said evenly.

  She waved his hand away. "I can do it myself. I know how this works," she insisted.

  "Really?" he replied with a grin. He straightened in his saddle, folded his arms and peered at her.

  Zoe twisted the folds of material around, but for some reason she couldn't get them to stay in place. Every time she thought she had succeeded, the material came tumbling down the side of her head.

  Tariq's satisfied grin triggered a stab of irritation. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

  Tariq shook his head. "Nothing," he replied. "I'm saying nothing."

  Zoe tried one last time and then groaned. "Okay. I'll let you show me. Just this once," she relented.

  There was a look of triumph on Tariq's face as he leaned in toward her. She caught the aroma of his scent, a mixture of his cologne and the sweat caused by desert heat. Trying to ignore that, she cocked her head toward him. She felt his fingers take the material, expertly turning and twisting it, until it finally settled in place around her head.

  Immediately she felt the sharpness of the sun lessen upon her head, and she realized he had been right. The effects of the sun were so subtle and yet so deadly that only one who was accustomed to those perils would know how important it was to keep the head covered.

  "Better?" he asked. His dark eyes were filled with genuine concern.

  Zoe nodded wordlessly.

  Tariq leaned back in his saddle and gazed ahead. "I think if we head to the top of that ridge the views will be spectacular. Want to see?" he asked.

  "Sure," Zoe said .

  They both kicked on and started toward the dune.

  Zoe thought about what had happened. Tariq had shown that he wanted to protect her, keep her safe. It was as simple as that. There had been respect in what he had done. She hadn't realized just how patient he could be.

  It had been the same back at the palace stables when he'd allowed her to choose the horse she wanted from the six that were housed in the stalls. Why did he need six horses, she had asked herself.