Taken by the Sheikh

by Mel Teshco

  Of course she was Maysarah El Habib. She could be no one else; because this was the woman he intended to make his bride.

  But the words lodged in his throat. Because he saw the truth in her eyes.

  She wasn’t Maysarah.

  A wild rushing sensation filled his mind and the world rocked on its axis. He, Khalid Salah al Din, had made a mistake of such monumental proportions he couldn’t wrap his brain around it.

  All his life it had been instilled in him that as a member of the Salah al Din dynasty, mistakes were unacceptable. He was of royal blood. In his land his word was law. In business he ensured he knew all relevant facts before making a decision. He never took anything at face value and always insisted on irrefutable proof before proceeding.

  It was the way of his forefathers. The reason they had survived and prospered while other noble houses had fallen.

  But when it came to the most important personal decision of his life he had forsaken the cold logic of his father’s people for the hot passion of his mother’s Gallic blood.

  The woman in his bed, the woman whose virginity he had so enthusiastically claimed, was not his in the eyes of his world.

  “Sanura Jones?” His voice was hoarse, as though his throat had been seared with hellfire. “What were you doing at the princess’s residence?”

  What the fuck was he saying? He sounded as though he was accusing Sanura of something, when she was the innocent party in this mess.

  He was the one who had screwed up. The one who had assumed Sanura wasn’t telling him the truth.

  And he had assumed that because he had wanted her to be Maysarah. Because he’d wanted her in his bed from the second she’d opened the door to him.

  “It’s my aunt’s house.” There was the slightest tremble in her voice, and it killed him. “She takes in students. May’s lived with us for the last three years.”

  The ruby glinted on her finger, like a malevolent eye. She caught his glance and tugged the ring free and dropped it onto the bed. It lay between them, a deep blood-red jewel condemning him for his incalculable error.

  He had been so sure he knew all there was to know about Sanura. The truth was he didn’t know anything.

  Except now he had found her, nothing would induce him to let her go.

  He ignored the priceless ring and took her hand. She continued to clutch the sheet to her throat, but at least she didn’t shove him away. He tightened his grip around her fingers.

  “You and the princess are friends?”

  She stiffened. “I don’t know where she is.”

  Right this second he didn’t care where the princess was. It didn’t matter where she was, because it was only a matter of time before she was found. But it stung that Sanura assumed all he cared about was finding Maysarah. His question had been aimed at finding out more about Sanura, not his disloyal betrothed.

  He suppressed a shudder. Even the thought of wedding another but Sanura turned his stomach.

  “I’m not asking you where she is.” Now he understood why she’d looked so cornered when she’d opened the door to him yesterday. She had been expecting an interrogation on the whereabouts of the missing princess. Instead he had jumped to the only conclusion he had wanted, and ruthlessly seduced her out of her senses.

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  He dragged his thoughts back to the present and frowned at her. She was staring at him, her beautiful blue eyes glassy with unshed tears. Remorse stabbed through his chest. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. This situation might be of his making, but it wasn’t of his choosing.

  And then her words hit him. “Lie to you?” He hadn’t lied to her. Admittedly he might have withheld the whole truth, but only because he thought he knew who she was.

  “You told me your name was Andre.” A shudder ran through her and she briefly closed her eyes, as though she couldn’t bear to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me who you really were?”

  Still holding her hand, he shifted position on the bed so he sat next to her. Despite her rigid body language he wound his arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his chest. Her hair was silky soft against his jaw, and he threaded his fingers through hers.

  She wasn’t who he had imagined. But she was still Sanura.

  “I didn’t lie to you. My name is Andre. My mother named me in honor of her beloved father.”

  She drew back and frowned up at him. “Your mother? I don’t understand… wait, your mother is French?”

  “Yes.” The memory of his father’s brutal death knifed through him and he suppressed a shudder. “She was my father’s second wife. My father died three months ago.”

  *

  Raw grief throbbed through every word and for a moment Sanura forgot everything but the pain she saw in Andre—Khalid’s—eyes.

  Nausea churned her stomach and she wanted nothing more than to wake from this nightmare, but she couldn’t bear the tightly bound agony that radiated from the man who held her so tenderly.

  “I’m sorry.” It was a soft whisper, and for one brief moment her fingers tightened around his in sympathy. She knew what it was like to lose beloved parents without any warning. “Was it… unexpected?”

  “He was murdered.” The stark words cut through her and she pressed her free hand against his roughened jaw, uncaring of the way the sheet slipped to her waist. She might be dying inside with the horrifying knowledge of what she had done but right now all she wanted was to comfort this strong, enigmatic man who was hurting so deeply.

  “Murdered?” It was terrible enough when people you loved died in a horrible accident. She couldn’t begin to think how Andre—Khalid—must be suffering.

  His jaw tensed. It was obvious he was reluctant to speak of it. And why would he wish to speak of it with her? She was nobody to him. She was worse than nobody.

  She was a mistake.

  The enormity of that mistake clawed through her heart and she shivered. He had made love to her throughout the night thinking she was May. It was the reason he had proposed to her this morning. It was no longer a mystery as to how he’d had an engagement ring all ready for her.

  It had nothing to do with him miraculously falling in love with her, and wanting to spend the rest of his life with her. What a fool she’d been to think that had been the case, for even a few magical moments.

  Shame burned through her. Her hand dropped from his face and she attempted to pull away from him. But his grip around her shoulders tightened, preventing her escape.

  “This is… difficult for me to speak of.” Each word sounded tortured. She looked at him, and what remained of her foolish heart melted at the desolation on his face. “He was killed at the opening ceremony of our country’s Millennium celebrations. He didn’t stand a chance.”

  In the depths of her mind a memory stirred. May had told her about this, months ago, and it had been in all the media. But she hadn’t followed the story. She had no idea what had happened afterwards and May hadn’t mentioned it again.

  But things were different now. Now it was personal. Because the sheikh who had died was no longer a faceless stranger. He was Andre’s father.

  “That’s terrible.” And then another thought hit her. Instinctively she once again cradled his jaw. “Was your mother… did she…?”

  His deep sigh pierced through her. “No, thank God. My mother was due to attend on the following day. Had I and my brothers not been delayed at her palace earlier that morning we also would have been in the royal enclosure when the bomb went off.”

  He lived in a world that was almost beyond her comprehension, but none of that mattered. She understood his pain and empathized with his loss. Right now, in his arms, he was simply a man grieving for the death of his father.

  She closed her eyes and sank against him, and for a few brief heartbeats luxuriated in the feel of his arm around her, and his fingers clasping hers. Yesterday she’d known this could be nothing but a one night stand. But during the hours they’d spent togeth
er she had dreamed of so much more.

  A shudder inched along her spine. Would it be easier if she could hate him for what had happened? Would her pride be eased if he had lied and coerced her into his bed?

  Except it wasn’t her pride that lay shattered in her breast. And there had been no need for him to coerce her into anything.

  She needed to leave. To put this behind her and try and forget it had ever happened. Andre—Khalid—was the man whose very name terrified her best friend. But May was wrong about him. He wasn’t the cold, evil bastard she had always imagined.

  The knowledge didn’t make her feel any better. Whether May wanted him or not, Sanura couldn’t rid herself of the sickening feeling that she had betrayed her friend by sleeping with Andre.

  By falling in love with him and wanting a future she could never have.

  She took a deep breath and forced herself upright, untangling their fingers and once again pulling the sheet around her breasts. He didn’t try and stop her. He leaned back against the pillows, arms by his sides, and merely watched her.

  “It’s a dreadful thing to have happened.” Her voice was husky, from the tears she refused to shed for the tangled mess her life had become and sorrow at how Andre had suffered. “Did they catch whoever was responsible?”

  His features tightened. “At first we believed it was rebels, attempting to destabilize the alliance between Omana and Qtara. But,” he paused, as though debating whether to continue or not. She held her breath, not sure why it was so important to her that he trusted her enough to share this information.

  After today they would never seen each other again. How could they? And yet she desperately wanted—needed—him to confide in her.

  “But?” It was barely a whisper, but it was enough to pull him from his reverie.

  “But there is more to it than that.” He sounded reluctant to admit it. “We fear it could be someone with links to the family. How else would they know my brother Rafi was in the desert two months ago? His tent was riddled with gunfire. Officially he was supposed to be with our elder brother Shahzad and me in the capital.”

  Shock punched through her. Had he lost his brother as well? Without thinking she took his hand for shared comfort. “They killed your brother?”

  His thumb stroked the back of her hand. She wondered if he even knew he was doing it. “No. He escaped death, but only just. There’s no doubt it was an assassination attempt, and whoever was behind it had access to privileged information.”

  It sounded terrifying. An equally terrifying possibility hit her. “Do you think someone is trying to kill all your family?”

  He inhaled a deep breath. “It looks that way. Before we could interrogate the only bomber who survived the attack he died of his injuries. He was dressed in traditional Qtara costume, but his accent was that from Omana’s northern province, Ketaya. Whoever is behind this wants us to believe El Habib is involved.”

  El Habib. May’s father. She stared at their clasped hands, and couldn’t bring herself to break their contact.

  She had little enough time left with him as it was. Still staring at their entwined fingers she forced the words past the blockage in her throat.

  “But you don’t think he is?”

  “No.” There was no doubt in his voice. “He has far more to gain in forging a strong alliance with us than destroying us. We need each other. Omana has oil. And Qtara has access to the sea.”

  And May was the link between them.

  Reality crashed through her and she tried to tug her hand free. But Andre pulled her closer.

  “Don’t, Sanura.” His voice was low and so persuasive she looked up at him. A fatal mistake. His beautiful eyes ensnared her and she was lost. “I know what you’re thinking. But I was betrothed to Princess Maysarah before my seventh birthday. We had no choice in the matter. It’s a political alliance, nothing more.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say. May has feelings too.”

  “Of course.” But he gave her an odd look, as though he didn’t quite understand her point. “Sweet Sanura, please don’t distress yourself. I don’t want you to remember this morning with anything but joy.”

  Joy? Was he insane? Well okay, so she had been filled with joy up until the point she’d discovered who he was. But knowing she’d just had amazing sex with the man betrothed to her best friend did kind of shatter the moment.

  She couldn’t bring herself to think that he might have the same amazing sex with May.

  She shivered. It didn’t help when Andre immediately pulled the exquisitely embroidered cover around her. Because it only served to remind her she had no right to accept his thoughtfulness, his charm or the wicked delights of his perfect body.

  “Everything will be fine.” He slid one finger beneath her chin and forced her to look up at him. “I want to know everything about you. Why do you live with your aunt?”

  Why did he want to know? It was simply prolonging the inevitable goodbye. Except it warmed her battered heart that he wanted to know more about her. Perhaps last night had meant something to him, after all. Perhaps he wouldn’t forget her as soon as she walked out of the door.

  “She took me in after my parents died when I was twelve. She was my dad’s sister.”

  “To lose your parents while still so young is a terrible thing.” He was entirely focused on her. She knew it was wrong, but all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and never leave this bed. “What happened?”

  She sighed. “A pile up on the motorway. A lorry jackknifed.”

  His frown intensified. “I am indebted to your aunt for taking care of you so well.”

  Despite everything, that made her laugh. It was only a small laugh, but it appeared to please Andre if his smile was anything to go by.

  “Poor Aunt Clara didn’t have a lot of choice. She’s my only other relative. My mum’s family disowned her when she married my dad.” Her mother had always said it was no great loss. That all she needed was Sanura and her dad. But sometimes Sanura desperately wanted to find her maternal relatives. Not that she’d ever try to. They’d turned their back on her mum and for that she would never forgive them.

  He looked intrigued. “Why didn’t they wish her to marry him?”

  Because he was a commoner. It didn’t matter that her mother was a commoner by then. Her mother’s grandmother had standards, and a poverty stricken English schoolteacher by the name of Oscar Jones didn’t cut it for her. Oh, the things she’d say to that grandmother if they ever crossed paths.

  “Just the usual. They didn’t think he was good enough for her.”

  “Hmm.” He appeared to consider that. “Where are your maternal relatives from originally?”

  “Egypt.” She hoped he left it at that.

  “I’d wondered about your name.” He wound a finger around one of her curls and tugged gently. “It suits you. Kitten.”

  Any other time she would have been enchanted that he knew the meaning of her name, but right now it simply reinforced the knowledge that they had no possible chance of a future together.

  But she couldn’t help answering him. “Mum named me after her mother.” Sanura’s fragile grandmother who had apparently lived in terror of her own mother who ruled with a rod of iron. She certainly hadn’t stood up for her daughter when she had needed it the most. Sanura wasn’t sure how she felt about her grandmother. Pissed by her lack of backbone or sorry for her.

  “And you are an artist? I should like to see your art one day.”

  What was he talking about? He was shredding her heart. There would be no one day for them.

  And then something occurred to her. Something so wonderful for a second she forgot how to breathe.

  Did Andre intend to break his betrothal to May? It wasn’t as though May would care. She would be thrilled by her freedom.

  But was that possible? And if it was, did that mean Andre still wanted to marry her?

  Chapter Nine

  “You mean you still want to
be with me? Even though I’m not who you thought I was?”

  “But of course.” He gave her a strange look, as though he thought her question redundant. “How can you think I’d let you go, sweet Sanura? You will make a perfect wife.”

  Relief flooded her and a great weight lifted from her heart. “I’ll have to speak to May.” She trusted Andre, but she wouldn’t give away her friend’s location until she’d spoken to her. It was only right May heard what had happened from her. Sanura was sure May would be thrilled to escape the marriage contract, but Sanura had to make sure before she could fully commit to Andre.

  Andre smiled. He looked thoroughly satisfied. “It gladdens my heart that you and the princess are so close. Will you excuse me? I need to make some arrangements. The bathroom is through there. I will have fresh clothes brought for you.”

  Khalid closed the bedroom door behind him and exhaled a long breath. Things hadn’t gone as he had planned and certainly weren’t the way he would wish, but the circumstances were far from disastrous. He straightened and called his chief of security.

  “Find out everything about Sanura Jones and her family. Report only to me.” He gave Sanura’s address.

  “Highness.” The single word served both as deference to his rank and as an affirmative. Khalid ended the call and punched in his brother’s number.

  “Rafi. I have bad news.”

  “Don’t tell me you find Princess Maysarah unpalatable to your fastidious Gallic tastes?” There was a mocking note in his brother’s voice, but Khalid was in no mood for joking.

  “Princess Maysarah has vanished. It’s clear she has no wish for this alliance to take place.”

  Rafi cursed. There was no trace of amusement in his voice now. “I’ll find her. It shouldn’t be hard to trace her whereabouts.”

  “This has to be kept between us. By the sound of things she’s terrified at the thought of this marriage.”

  “With a father like hers, who can blame her?” Disgust threaded through Rafi’s voice. “But how do you know she’s terrified, Khalid? Have you spoken to those close to her?”