Taken by the Sheikh

by Penny Jordan

  Assuming a businesslike expression, she followed Drax into the plane. Inside, the jet was nothing like any aircraft she had ever flown in before. There were no rows of seats. Instead there was a large open space, its walls painted a subtle shade of blue-grey and its floor covered in off-white carpet. Several very modern-looking leather chairs were artfully placed around the space, which also held a large black desk with a computer, on which Drax was already working.

  A uniformed steward came towards her, guiding her to a chair. ‘There is a TV screen concealed in the wall opposite you,’ he told her, offering her a handset and earphones. ‘And on the opposite side of the dividing screen you will find a guest bedroom and bathroom, should you wish to rest in private. However, the flight time to Dhurahn is only one hour, and I shall be serving champagne and canapés before we take off, followed by a meal. If you have any dietary preferences…?’

  ‘No, none,’ Sadie answered, trying to perch upright on the edge of the leather chair in a businesslike manner, resisting the temptation to subside into its luxurious comfort. There was something about its shaping that invited the human body to abandon itself into a languorously sensual pose that she didn’t feel was appropriate for an employee on probation.

  Putting an automatically dialled call through to his brother, Drax swung round to look at her while he waited for Vere to answer. She looked uncertain and slightly overwhelmed. That was good. He wanted to ensure that he kept the upper hand, and the slight apprehension she was betraying reinforced his confidence in what he was doing. He was pretty sure she didn’t speak Arabic, but just in case he swung back to face his desk, away from her, keeping his voice low as he answered Vere’s, ‘Yes, Drax?’

  ‘I am just about to leave Zuran, Vere, and I am returning with a very special gift for you. Perhaps it will give you a hint as to what it is when I tell you that its price is above rubies.’ When his brother made no response Drax added softly, ‘I have found you the perfect temporary wife, and I am bringing her back to Dhurahn with me.’

  ‘What?’

  Drax laughed. ‘It is true. I have found you a wife, Vere, and she is perfect for our purpose. Wait until you see her.’

  ‘Seeing her is all I shall have time for, Drax. I am leaving for London as soon as you are back.’

  Vere had sounded more incredulous than pleased by his news, Drax admitted when the call ended. He frowned as he looked across at Sadie, who was still struggling to sit upright in a chair that was designed for reclining. She looked unsure of herself, and slightly stressed. His brother was a man who liked elegant, immaculate women—and, no matter how perfect she might be in other ways, as far as her personal appearance went she was not dressed or groomed in a way that would appeal to Vere.

  Sensing that she was being watched, Sadie looked toward Drax, colouring up when she saw the way he was scrutinising her. It was not a flattering look she was being given—quite the opposite—and her face started to burn.

  ‘I have some business to attend to before we take off,’ Drax told her. ‘But it won’t take more than half an hour. Beyond this office there is a private suite, which includes a bedroom and a bathroom.’

  ‘Yes, I know. The steward has already told me that,’ Sadie interrupted him hurriedly, wondering if she looked as flustered and uncomfortable as she felt. The truth was that she simply wasn’t used to sexy, powerful men telling her in drawling, wickedly sensual voices about bedrooms and bathrooms being on hand, should she require them.

  The now familiar lift of one dark eyebrow signalled its owner’s disdainful reaction to her interruption.

  ‘Excellent. I appreciate that you left the al Sawars’ in some haste, and that you may wish to refresh yourself and change your clothes prior to our arrival in Dhurahn, when I hope to be able to introduce you to my brother before he leaves for London. Ali will show you where everything is, and bring your bag to you, should you need it. And now, if you will excuse me, I must attend to a small matter of business I have overlooked.’

  He was leaving her here alone on the plane? She had to fight not to spring up and cling to him, begging not to be abandoned. Abandoned? By a man she barely knew? She was being totally ridiculous.

  But he had taken control of her life, Sadie recognised as Ali salaamed him out of the doorway, and received another of those regal inclinations of Drax’s dark head in response. And in doing so he had thrust her into a kind of lifestyle in which she felt totally alien and insecure.

  And was she being over-sensitive, or had he been hinting that she looked as though she was in need of a change of clothes? He had mentioned that she would meet his brother. Meet him, or be inspected and then potentially rejected by him because of her appearance? Did it matter if she was? The extent to which she felt mortified by the thought of being considered not smart enough to work for the Rulers of Dhurahn told her that it did. And yet hadn’t she always despised the attitude of men like her stepfather, who judged others on their outer appearance and their material possessions?

  There was a big difference between being judged for one’s physical beauty or lack of it and being considered unkempt and slightly scruffy, Sadie told herself. To be fair, she knew that the majority of employers in the financial sector preferred their employees to look smart and businesslike.

  She reached down for her handbag, intending to open it and find a mirror to check to see if she looked as bad as she was beginning to feel, but before her fingers had curled round its handle Ali had materialised at her side, holding a tray on which she could see a full glass of pale, bubbling champagne and a plate of deliciously mouthwatering canapés. At the sight of her food her stomach gave a betraying rumble, which Ali effected not to notice.

  ‘His Highness informed me that you may wish to use the guest suite. Please allow me to show you.’ He had bent down and picked up her handbag before Sadie could stop him, leaving her with no real option other than to trot obediently alongside him as he guided her through the office-cum-lounge area into a narrow corridor that led to a pair of closed doors.

  ‘This is the guest suite,’ Ali told her, somehow managing to open the door while still carrying the tray and her handbag. ‘The door next to it leads to the private suite of Their Highnesses. It is kept locked at all times, unless Their Highnesses specify otherwise.’

  A subtle warning to her not to think of going snooping around to see what the Royal suite looked like? Sadie wondered as Ali held open the door for her to precede him into the guest suite.

  To her amazement, it contained not only a large double bed but a wall of fitted cupboards and a built-in dressing table, plus two chairs and a small table. In the adjoining bathroom there was full-size shower and a basin.

  Sadie looked at the shower. The thought of standing under it and washing the dust of Zuran off her hair and body was tempting—and not just because her skin felt so grubby and gritty from her hot walk. There would be something metaphorically beneficial about having a clean, fresh start to her life and her new job.

  She would need a change of clothes, though. She had no idea where her case was, but as though he had read her mind Ali put the tray down on the table, placing her handbag beneath it, and then went to open the cupboard doors. Inside were her clothes, neatly hung up and looking undeniably tired and out of place in their luxurious new setting. A bit like her?

  ‘Thank you, Ali,’ she said to the hovering steward.

  ‘You wish me perhaps to prepare the shower for you?’ he asked politely.

  ‘What? Oh, no…no. I can manage, thank you,’ Sadie assured him swiftly.

  It was silly of her to feel so overwhelmed. The Al Sawars had employed a large staff, and Monika’s personal maid had done everything for her including running her bath. Sadie knew that.

  Was it safe to have a shower now, while they were on the ground? she wondered. What would happen if they took off while she was in it? She had visions of water sloshing everywhere, ruining the carpets and perhaps even flooding into the forbidden Royal suite. S
he looked uncertainly at Ali.

  ‘Is it all right to use the shower now?’ she asked him self-consciously. ‘I mean, before we take off?’

  ‘It is very good,’ he assured her solemnly. ‘The airplane, he does not go until His Highness is back on board. I will tell him that you use the shower and he will tell the Captain.’

  If she was quick she might have time to be in and out of the shower and dressed before Drax returned. It would certainly give her pride a much-needed boost if she could present herself to him looking freshly groomed.

  ‘Thank you, Ali,’ she said to the steward again. ‘I shall shower and change now, then, if that’s all right?’

  ‘It is very good,’ Ali repeated. ‘You will call me, please, if you wish anything? Perhaps more champagne?’

  There was no lock on the bedroom door—but then there was no need for her to lock it, Sadie assured herself. She had never found the al Sawars’ staff to be anything other than respectful and polite, and Ali certainly hadn’t struck her as being anything other than trustworthy.

  Five minutes later she stepped beneath the shower and felt the bliss of its warm water on her skin, even better than she had anticipated. To see the fine grains of sand sluicing down with the water into the shower tray made her change her mind about not bothering to wash her hair. If she couldn’t dry it then she would plait it, and at least it would be clean—even if it meant taking a longer shower than she had planned.

  Drax frowned as he watched the line of immaculately dressed young women handing over the glossy designer logo carrier bags to his waiting staff. He had bought what he had thought most suitable—not just for a young woman about to enter the employ of the ruling house of Dhurahn, but also for the prospective bride of one of them. Guessing Sadie’s size for the clothes hadn’t been too much of a problem. He had enough experience to make a pretty shrewd estimate of her measurements. But to be on the safe side he had instructed the boutiques to supply the shoes they had suggested went best with the outfits in two sizes. Now she would have a wardrobe fit for a young woman well-groomed enough to catch the eye of his fastidious brother, complete with some discreet pieces of costume jewellery and a Cartier watch.

  Drax stepped into the interior of the jet and the waiting stewards closed the doors.

  ‘Where is Ms Murray?’ he asked Ali as the steward offered him a glass of champagne, which he waved away.

  ‘She asked me if there was sufficient time for her to take a shower before takeoff.’

  Drax glanced at his watch.

  She should be out of the shower by now. He got up and headed for the guest bedroom. He had no intention of warning Sadie of his plans for her, but he would have to give her some acceptable explanation for the new clothes he had bought her and make sure she wore them from now on.

  Sadie was crouched on the floor, wrapped in a large bath towel, going through her almost empty suitcase with increasing disbelief and dismay, looking for the underwear that should have been there but so far she hadn’t been able to find. She was oblivious to the brief knock on her door before Drax opened it and walked in.

  The shock of seeing him brought her upright, but as she stood her foot caught in the trailing hem of the towel, causing it to slip from her body and leaving her completely naked.

  For a heartbeat neither of them moved. Sadie couldn’t even breathe, never mind retrieve the towel. But still her soft, pale-skinned rounded breasts lifted slightly, as though she had drawn in her breath, whilst her nipples, still damp from her shower and lightly gilded from the discreetly placed lighting, tightened subtly. But not so subtly that Drax’s attention wasn’t caught by their quick hardening—a hardening that was reciprocated far less subtly by his own body.

  Without taking his gaze off her he pushed the door shut. Its soft click as it locked them together into the silent privacy of the bedroom made a small pulse jerk in Sadie’s throat. She made a small sound, a protest that wasn’t a protest at all, more a moan of female acknowledgement, her eyes widening as Drax took a step towards her.

  It was almost as though she had been turned into two different people, Sadie thought. One of them, the Sadie she knew, was urging her frantically to pick up her towel and conceal her nakedness and her vulnerability with it. But the other Sadie, a Sadie who bemused and astonished her, wasn’t listening. She was choosing to stay where she was; she felt only the pure female awareness of the power of her naked body and its right to accept the homage of the man who was subjecting its every curve and line with the look of a critic and a connoisseur.

  Sadie had never stopped to think of her body as an object of artistic beauty before, and the Sadie she knew was horrified by the thought. But the other Sadie took pride in knowing that she could command the silent attention of such a man. She might as well have been a slave girl, commanded to stand before a man who would buy her for his pleasure, Sadie told herself, trying to goad this new, rebellious side of herself into submitting to angry shame. But instead that Sadie mocked her for her cowardice, and whispered to her that a slave girl could command the man who was her master if she had the courage to do so. She could give him such pleasure that she was the one who enslaved him—so that he was commanded by her pleasure to worship the sensuality she embodied. Such a woman knew how to tempt and torment a man until all he could think of was possessing her; until the slavery between them encompassed and held them both; until he was as shackled to her by the unseen chains of his own desire as surely as she was shackled in the market place for his inspection.

  With every thought this unfamiliar Sadie had the old Sadie could feel herself becoming her, so that her belly hollowed erotically, and her breathing deepened and quickened, and the tight thrust of her nipples hardened into flushed arousal.

  He had come here to tell her about the clothes he had bought for her, but the truth was, Drax decided, she didn’t need clothes. She was perfect the way she was. And the heavy, unsteady thud of his heartbeat echoed the potency of his thoughts.

  The only covering such perfection should have was that of his hands, exploring every silken centimetre of her soft flesh, or his lips, paying her the homage of his male hunger. She would taste of the fruits of her own country, ripe summer berries salted with just enough sharpness before being dipped in honey-sweetened cream that would meld on the tongue, leaving behind the memory of its velvet softness and warm scent. Her skin was as pale as the desert sand in the moonlight, her nipples the rose-gold of the dawn shadows on the mountains beyond the plain, the cleft between her legs as delicately hidden as one of the secret valleys deep in those mountains, concealed from the eyes of men.

  If she were his he would command that she always came to him unclothed. He would build her a house with a secluded courtyard, its floor covered in the softest, deepest rugs, so that she could walk upon them without damaging the tender flesh of her feet. He would plant it with thornless roses and scented plants, so that when he took her in its seclusion the scent of the petals crushed beneath her body would release their perfume all around them. She would be his to enjoy as and when he wished.

  But she wasn’t going to be his. He had chosen her for his brother.

  With one swift movement he reached down and retrieved her towel, handing it to her. His curt, ‘Cover yourself,’ brought Sadie out of the spell her unfamiliar half had woven around her, snapping her back to reality and to the humiliating embarrassment of her nudity.

  She snatched the towel from Drax, holding in front of herself, her face on fire. ‘You should have knocked,’ she told him fiercely.

  ‘I did. When you didn’t answer I assumed…wrongly…’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Or perhaps the assumption I made was the right one? At least as far as you are concerned.’

  It took several seconds for his meaning to reach her. When it did, the embarrassed pink of her face changed to an angry red.

  ‘If you’re trying to suggest that I wanted you to come in…Well, I didn’t,’ she told him flatly, when he didn’t say anything. ‘And now I
’d like you to leave, please, whilst I get dressed.’ It struck her that she was in no position to order him around on his own plane, but there was no way she was going to have him making those sort of accusations against her.

  ‘You will have to be quick. I came to warn you that we are about to take off. You will need to be seated in the lounge area and wearing a seatbelt.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll only be two minutes.’

  ‘You were looking for something when I came in?’

  ‘It wasn’t anything important,’ Sadie said quickly. There was no way she could tell him that Monika’s maid had omitted to pack her underwear in the case. And not just some of it. All of it.

  ‘We can’t waste any more time. There will be a robe in the bathroom—put that on.’

  He obviously wasn’t going to leave the bedroom without her, Sadie realised. She hesitated, and then, seeing the irritated look he was giving her, wrapped the towel tightly around herself and hurried into the bathroom to retrieve the robe she knew she ought to have put on in the first place.

  While she was gone Drax looked at the bed. If he had followed his instincts right now she would be lying on it, her eyes closed in pleasure, her heart beating against the delicacy of her flesh, whilst he kissed and caressed her until she opened herself to him and begged him to possess her. But she wasn’t his to possess. That pleasure would belong to Vere—if he chose to take it.