by Mel Teshco
His words had the desired effect. A frisson of need speared through her body and centered in her pussy, while her pulse galloped out-of-control.
Yet he didn’t push the issue. Instead his hand tightened fractionally around her waist and his thumb trailed lazily across the bared skin of her midriff. She sighed, so off balance she didn’t know up from down.
The doors slid smoothly open on the fourth floor and Shahzad drew her past a large waiting room with low lounges and tables, and towards a set of double doors. He opened them and smiled at her wide-eyed look. “I’ve had our suite of rooms redecorated and fitted out in furnishings which I hope you’ll find more agreeable.”
“Why would you do that?”
He shrugged. “I researched and studied what I could about you in order to make you feel more at home. But if you’re not happy you can redesign the rooms however you see fit.”
She stepped onto plush white carpet and took in the dark leather sofas that sat in a semi-circle between huge arched windows and a projector that was partially hidden and operated by remote control.
The palace might have the air of being centuries old, but it was by no means outdated. It probably got a makeover every year or two.
He indicated a door at the other end of the room. “You can take the main bedroom. I’ll take the bedroom in the next level down.”
She threw him a frown, half-hoping he wasn’t serious. “Why are you going out of your way to be so kind to me?”
It wasn’t as if he’d been wallowing in guilt because he’d kidnapped her.
He stopped at the door. She vaguely noticed a wooden knob carved into the shape of a camel head, before he queried softly, “You really need to ask?”
She let out a gusty sigh. “I don’t know what you expect of me…I hardly know you.” She threw out a hand. “I’ve already told you—I have no idea how to be a queen, or a sheikha, let alone how to be a good one.”
“Lexi.” He said her name like a caress, his face set with determination and his eyes glowing with yearning. “I never meant to throw you to the wolves. But you’re strong and willful, I know you will not only endure, but thrive as my wife.”
Oh god, the wedding.
She pressed a hand to her chest. “When will we be…married?”
“Our wedding was set for next week.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Holy shit! “That soon?” she whispered. The emotions running through her were akin to being caught up in a tsunami without a life preserver. And yet she couldn’t deny that a part of her was elated. She just might find a way to catch the wave and ride it all the way into the sunset.
His head cocked to the side. “Probably sooner now,” he admitted. “Our people are restless and want to see a united front. Omana needs stability.”
“So everything you do is for your people?”
“Mostly, yes.” He cupped her cheek. “Fortunately much of the time what my people want is the very same thing I want too.”
“What your people want is a broodmare.”
He frowned. “They want a sheikha for their sheikh, first and foremost.”
“And what about you? What do you want?”
“I want a wife whose passion matches my own. I want a wonderful mother to my children. Most of all I want you in my bed every damn night of the week.”
“What about what I want?” she asked.
His eyes flared, full of possessiveness. “You want me as badly as I want you, Habibi.” He splayed a hand across her belly. “Our child could even now be growing in your womb.”
Her breath hissed. It only took one act of intimacy to create a child. But she refused to give into the maternal instinct that hoped it would be true—she’d never been clucky and wasn’t about to start now! Still, she couldn’t help but slip a hand over his, hold his stare and ask, “If we did…conceive, I’d want our child to have a western tutor and a life that doesn’t stop outside Omana.”
He cocked a brow. “Are you trying to wrangle a deal from your abductor?”
She lifted her chin. “Yes. I guess I am.”
His voice was edged with triumph. “You really will be the perfect Sheikha and wife in every way.”
She didn’t have a comeback when he spun on his heel and strode toward the elevator, a strange ache in her chest as she stared after him like a lovesick fool.
But her heart leapt when he stopped, spun on his heel and strode back to her. He bent and his mouth captured hers in a brief, hard kiss before he pulled away and murmured near her ear, “Sweet dreams, Habibi.”
Chapter Eight
The main bedroom was beyond palatial and she stood at the door for a moment to take it all in. A person might need a map to find their way around the room, which not only showcased a magnificent four poster bed with tied-back gauzy netting, but a tiled area with a huge sunken bath the size of a small pool. A servant or maid, or whoever it was sheikhs employed, had filled the bath with water and a generous handful of pink rose petals.
Twin sliding doors had been opened wide to a balcony outside, allowing the air to come into the room and bring with it the scent of jasmine and the honey-sweet aroma of ripened dates.
Compared to her dorm room and her mother’s tiny rental in England, this was beyond expansive and luxurious. Her belly squeezed. Her mother would no doubt be despairing over her plight, and probably thinking the worst. She had to talk to her.
She froze, eyes widening. Perhaps she could talk to her! Sitting on one of the twin bedside tables was a landline telephone. She picked up the receiver, listened for the dial tone, and then keyed in her mother’s phone number.
When her mother’s tired voice answered, Lexi’s throat thickened and her vision blurred, her hands gripping the receiver until she wonder how it didn’t break. But then her mother had to repeat her greeting, and Lexi finally breathed, “Hi, Mom.”
Silence filled her ear, before her mother gasped, “Lexi? Oh my god, are you okay? I’ve been going out of my mind with worry!”
Weak-kneed with relief, Lexi flopped back onto the bed. “Aside from being kidnapped, I’m surprisingly good.”
“Good?” Her mother’s shock couldn’t have been more absolute.
“Yes Mother, good. Despite…everything, Shahzad has been…kind.”
She wasn’t about to mention his amazing bedroom prowess, his hard, toned body and good looks. Even his consideration to her every comfort and need.
“Really?” her mother queried. “I had hoped…that is, after the obscene amount of money he transferred into my bank account…”
“He’s been more than generous too,” Lexi agreed.
“I’m sorry I sheltered you from all this. After all these years I’d hoped things might have changed and that archaic marital contract was all but forgotten.”
Lexi sighed. “I guess my royal blood means something over here.”
Silence again greeted her ear and Lexi could imagine her mother twisting the phone cord with fluttery hands. When she finally spoke, it was in a rush. “I only wanted what was best for you, Lexi. You got to experience normal life, normal relationships. I never wanted you to be locked up in a harem with twenty other women.”
“Is that what happened to you?” Lexi asked. “You had to share my father? Is that why you ran away?”
A ragged breath sounded down the line. “Yes, Lexi. Your father was much older than me when we met. But he was charming and gracious and so damn impressive in the bedroom…”
Lexi grimaced, but understood all too well the passion her mother had experienced. “And?” she prompted.
“And I was overwhelmed by him, by his gifts and his wealth. I was already in deep when he lured me back to his palace. But I had no idea how badly he wanted sheikh heirs. His infertility made him desperate. He wasn’t above having sex with three or four women a day in the slim hope he might conceive a child.”
Lexi closed her eyes, hearing the pain echoing in her mother’s voice. “I’m sorry Mom. I couldn’t have en
dured that either.”
It must have almost killed her mother to witness the longed-for pregnancy happen to one of Sheikh Hassan Nazari’s other women.
“But that’s what your Shahzad will expect too,” her mother said quietly. “You know that, don’t you?”
Lexi stifled a quiet sob of denial. Shahzad had said how seeing her had made him feel differently about marriage, but he’d never specifically said he wouldn’t wed other women. If having more than one wife was what his people wanted, she wasn’t so sure he’d disappoint them.
She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. “I’d better go now Mom.” Some things hurt too much to talk about. “But I’ll ring you again soon, okay?”
“Lexi, come home, before you’re hurt. I don’t want you going through what I did.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, hoping her words wouldn’t come back to bite her. “I don’t plan on getting hurt, Mom. Bye.”
She hung up with a heavy heart and her fears pressing right to the surface. But she managed not to give into them and instead pushed to her feet, determined not to jump to conclusions. She’d ask Shahzad outright about his future marital plans.
With a little inner harmony restored, she explored the walk-in closet that was hidden behind the bedhead’s wall.
She pressed a hand to her mouth. Hundreds of outfits—both traditional and western—hung neatly in what appeared to be formal and informal wear. Dozens of racks were filled with shoes, and a vast selection of exquisite jewelry was displayed in a huge velvet glass-case. Underwear and nightwear, swimwear and occasional wear, it was all there and then some, and all in her size.
She slid off her clunky sandals and selected a filmy nightgown and underwear, before heading to the white and gold tiled bath, where shampoo, soap and salts sat temptingly on the wide-edged lip. She’d enjoy a long, leisurely soak, and then wash the sand and grit from her hair.
She had no idea what would be expected of her as future Sheikha of Omana. Would she need to face the media tomorrow? Would she have to present herself so soon to Omana’s people?
Anxiety ate away her confidence as she rinsed and scrubbed, and a piece of her yearned for the freedom she’d taken for granted, where she could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.
Finally climbing out from the bath, she dried herself with a huge, fluffy white towel that had been hanging on a heated rack nearby, before she pulled on her silky nightwear and then brushed and dried her hair.
A rap on the opened double doors had her hurry back through the bedroom and into the sitting room, but her smile of welcome died when the sheikh she’d expected was instead his ex-lover, Kaela. “What are you doing here?”
The other woman’s expression looked serene, as though the sobbing mess she’d been earlier had never happened. “I know I’m the last person you want to see right now.”
Damn right. “How did you get up here and past security?”
Kaela smirked. “I’ve never been denied access before.” She shrugged slim shoulders. “And besides, I have…friends here.”
The Arab woman didn’t need to point out the obvious. Lexi was an English rose wilting alongside desert cacti. A stranger in a harsh land full of unrest and uncertainty. Despite Shahzad’s theory their people wanted them wedded, she doubted all of Omana’s people would be rolling out the welcoming mat.
She threw her shoulders back, refusing to back down. “Leave now. Shahzad—“
“Isn’t here right now. He’s giving you this one night to adjust.” At Lexi’s shocked intake of breath, Kaela’s self-assurance seemed to soar. “He tells me everything, I’m his confidante as well as his lover.”
She wasn’t stupid. This woman was doing her best to undermine her fragile trust in Shahzad. She stepped forward. “That will change once Shahzad and I are married.”
Kaela sneered, her features twisting into something not quite so beautiful. “You might get to be his first wife and sheikha, but when he takes me as his second wife, don’t think I’ll sit back and let you take all the power.”
The world could have stopped spinning for all Lexi knew. Right then her entire focus remained on the woman who’d delivered the one bit of news she’d never imagined to hear.
Had Shahzad lied when he’d openly said he and Kaela would never marry? Her belly clenched. Had she simply chosen to believe everything the sheikh told her, despite the fact he’d kidnapped her without remorse?
Even when her mother had tried to warn her, she hadn’t wanted to listen. She was blind and deaf in the face of her deepening affection for Shahzad.
Kaela’s expression danced between triumph and concern. She pressed long-tipped nails to her mouth. “My god, he didn’t tell you, did you?”
Lexi felt the blood drain from her face, her legs becoming weak. But she wouldn’t give this woman the satisfaction of seeing her pain.
I believed in him, imagined I was the only one he wanted. What a naïve fool I’ve been.
Turmoil swamped over her; drowned her. She’d unwittingly followed in her mother’s footsteps. At least now she understood—with perfect clarity—why her mother had left. Lexi couldn’t share her lover either.
She blinked back angry tears. She’d been deceived by the one man she’d come to imagine was worthy of her trust.
Kaela shook her head. “Lexi, you really don’t understand the ways of my people, do you?”
Lexi closed her eyes, hating the pity she saw in Kaela’s. “What ways?” she croaked heavily. “Aside from the lack of monogamy in a sheikh’s marriage.”
“A sheikh’s vitality is measured by how many wives and lovers he keeps satisfied. As Sheikha you’re expected to abide by those conditions.”
Lexi opened her eyes and turned to Kaela, asking in a voice that sounded as brittle as her emotions. “And if I can’t?”
The other woman cocked a mocking brow. “Then you shouldn’t be here.”
Lexi knew Kaela would do anything to get rid of her, but she also knew the Arab woman was right. She had no place in this world. She’d been raised with western beliefs and ideals, and no matter how much it’d hurt to leave Shahzad, it’d hurt a hell of a lot more seeing him with other women.
“Even if I wanted to leave, Shahzad would find a way to bring me back.”
“On the contrary, if you leave him now you will have dishonored him and your father. You would have broken the contract. You won’t be welcomed back. Besides, his people are beyond offended he’s not already married and breeding children. They want him wedded, yesterday.”
Lexi resisted pacing back and forth and instead faced Kaela. “Let me guess. With me out of the picture you’d be honor bound to step into my place?”
Kaela nodded. “Something like that.” She stood too. “But unlike you, I would accept his other wives, just as long as I was his first.”
She couldn’t in a million years accept her husband being with other women, other wives. But could she walk away from the man who’d come to mean so much to her in so short a time? She swallowed hard. What choice did she have? Staying here would slowly kill her love for him.
Love?
She crossed to the arch-cut window on shaky legs, and then stared at the freeform pool below. Her belly twisted with rejection even as her head told her to leave while she still had her heart intact. She didn’t face the other woman when she spoke, “I’m guessing you’ve already got a plan in place to get me home?”
Kaela stepped beside her. Lexi didn’t need to see her face to perceive the smug look.
“You don’t know me at all and yet you understand me so well.” Kaela clapped her hands and a figure in a black burka appeared in the open double doors. “The Sheikh’s mistress wants to return home. See that she does.”
The mysterious burka wearer inclined his or her head, and then swept a hand toward the elevator. Lexi inexplicably shivered, before she snapped her attention back to Kaela. “Now?”
Kaela’s eyes sharpened. “Now or never. Once you’re married,
you’ll never be able to leave.” Kaela didn’t back down an inch when she added, “Your mother is understandably frantic to see you.”
So Lexi hadn’t been the only one communicating with her mother. The idea niggled at a nerve. Kaela had trespassed by talking to Lexi’s flesh and blood. But really, what was the harm in that compared to a lifetime of her being watched?
But can I trust this woman?
“How do I know you won’t just dump me out in the desert to slowly die?”
Kaela shook her head. “Oh, please! If I wanted to kill you I’d hand you over to the rebels. But I don’t want your death on my conscience. All I’ve ever wanted is the Sheikh back in my bed where he belongs.”
He’s not your sheikh!
She swallowed the words forming in her throat and instead blew out a slow, steadying breath. She might want to yell and scream denial; even wrap her hands around the other woman’s slender throat, but now was not the time for jealousy. Shahzad wasn’t hers…he’d never been hers.
She lifted her chin, and reverted to the code of reckless spontaneity she’d always lived by. “Let’s do this.”
The figure in black stepped forward, a folded burka in hand. Kaela deftly helped Lexi into it, draping the black fabric over her nightgown before pushing the clunky sandals back onto her feet.
Lexi grimaced. The thick, almost claustrophobic burka had only a mesh insert for her eyes, which made her feel blinkered and somehow separated from her decision to leave.
She followed the other burka-clad figure into the elevator and to the ground floor, noting that since her arrival a short time ago, everything seemed much more subdued. No servants scurried around. Only a few guards maintained their positions, and they certainly didn’t take any notice of her in the flowing black robe.
Goodbye, Shahzad.
Chapter Nine
She’d never felt more invisible. A nothing and a nobody. The feeling of distance from her own body was strangely disconcerting, especially when her long, curling red hair and brazen personality was oftentimes the center of attention.
