The Sheikh and the Bought Bride

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The Sheikh and the Bought Bride Page 7

by Susan Mallery


  Victoria frowned. Yusra had also mentioned Kateb being lonely. What was up with that? The man had a harem he could fill with as many women as he wanted. How lonely could he be?

  Yusra arrived in Kateb’s office fifteen minutes after he’d sent for her. She bowed slightly.

  “It is good to have you back in the Winter Palace,” she said.

  “It will always be my home.” He motioned her to sit, then abruptly rose and paced to the window. It had taken only a few hours for him to come to the obvious solution to his problem. “ Victoria must return to the city. You will pack up her things and arrange transportation. She is to be gone before noon tomorrow.”

  He stared out at the courtyard as he spoke. Dozens of people came and went, looking busy and determined. He was just like them, with responsibilities. He didn’t have time for a woman’s plan to trap him.

  “I am surprised,” Yusra said slowly. “She displeased you so quickly?”

  Victoria hadn’t displeased him, which was part of the problem. He’d felt…unsettled after their encounter. A strange state of being he did not want to repeat. Having her gone was the best solution. She would attempt to find a different rich husband, trick another man. He would not fall prey to her.

  “She is fine,” he said, still not looking at Yusra. “But I have no time for her. With the elders about to meet, I must deal with my responsibilities.”

  “She is one woman, Prince Kateb. How much trouble could she be?”

  “You have no idea. My mind is made up. I want her gone.”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  He heard the older woman stand. He looked back at her, prepared to wish her good day. She spoke first.

  “And if she is with child?”

  Six simple words that changed everything, he thought grimly. Pregnant. He hadn’t considered the possibility. Last night he’d be unable to think of anything but having her.

  He didn’t bother to question how Yusra knew they’d had sex. The ripped dress would have been clue enough and he’d left it on a chair in his rooms. Word would have spread quickly. He knew there were those who wanted him to take another wife, to have a child. They would hope Victoria was someone he would consider.

  Or at least they would unless they found out the truth about her.

  Could she be pregnant?

  He hadn’t thought to use protection. Was she on birth control? He remembered her plan to marry Nadim. No doubt had he been willing to take her to his bed, she would have been delighted to use pregnancy to trap him. There was no reason to assume she would act any differently with him.

  He returned his gaze to Yusra. “She can’t be allowed to leave until we know if she is pregnant or not.”

  “As you wish.”

  “You will tell me either way?”

  “Of course. In no more than twenty-eight days, sir. Then you can let her go.”

  Having her gone tomorrow would be easier, but not possible. A little less than a month. That shouldn’t be a problem. As Yusra had pointed out, Victoria was only one woman. He could handle her easily.

  Exactly at three, Victoria knocked on the door of the old house on the corner. A woman answered right away. She was probably close to fifty, tall and very beautiful, with dark hair hanging in a long ponytail and large, expressive eyes. Gold chains hung around her neck and bangles jingled on both wrists.

  “You must be Victoria,” she said warmly. “Welcome. I am Rasha.”

  “Thank you so much for letting me see where you work,” Victoria said as she stepped into the building.

  From the outside it looked like a house, but on the inside, it was a big, open space with skylights and windows. The floors were stone. Interior walls had been removed and work stations set up in several places. Heat billowed from the left side, where several women poured molten gold into molds.

  “I’ve admired your jewelry ever since I came to El Deharia two years ago,” Victoria said. “I just didn’t know it was yours. I bought these in the market in the city.”

  Rasha touched her earrings. “Yes, I recognize the piece. Very nice.”

  “They’re beautiful. The weaving is incredible.”

  Rasha led her around the room. “We use many techniques to make our jewelry. Molds, as you see them doing here. The weaving involves long wires or threads that are just soft enough to bend. The delicate beadwork is the most difficult. We also set stones.”

  Rasha introduced her to many of the women working in the house, then showed her their inventory. The rows of completed work was dazzling and for a moment Victoria felt a little light-headed.

  “I’m practically a professional shopper,” she joked. “Seeing this much all in one place isn’t good for me.”

  Rasha laughed. “We get used to it.”

  “That’s almost sad.” Victoria touched a pendant. “I know you sell in the city and here in the village. Anywhere else?”

  “We have a man who takes our jewelry to El Bahar and Bahania. They do well.”

  Both neighboring countries, Victoria thought. But still relatively small markets.

  “What about selling on the Internet?”

  Rasha frowned. “Is that possible?”

  “Sure. You set up a Web site with pictures and set prices. You’d have to deal with shipping and boxes and insurance. I wonder if mailing into other countries would be a problem? Customs and import fees. Maybe it would be better to find a distributor in, say, the U.S. and Europe.”

  “You have many ideas,” Rasha told her. “We are a small factory. No one would be interested in what we have to offer.”

  “Don’t underestimate your work. People would be very interested. Handmade jewelry is something to treasure. Your prices are reasonable and the work itself is exquisite. I think you could be very successful.”

  Several of the women had stopped working to listen. Victoria couldn’t tell if they were interested or if they were shocked she’d disagreed with Rasha.

  “It would be nice not to be dependent on the only person who takes our things to El Bahara and Bahania,” Rasha said slowly. “He does not always give us a good price.”

  A few of the women nodded.

  “I don’t want to push,” Victoria said, excited about the idea of helping these women be more successful. Still, this was a different culture. Change came slowly. “Would you mind if I talked to Kateb about what I’ve seen and a few of my ideas? If he approved…”

  Rasha’s eyes lit up. “You would speak to the prince on our behalf?”

  “Of course. I know he’s concerned about growing the economy here. Selling your jewelry abroad would bring in a lot of money. If nothing else, maybe I could set up a Web site for you and see if there’s any interest.”

  She wondered how products found their way to the home shopping channels on American TV. Something she would have to look into.

  Rasha glanced around the room. All the women had stopped working and were listening.

  “Please,” she said, smiling at Victoria. “If the prince thinks this is a good idea, we would appreciate any help you could give us.”

  “I’ll talk to him as soon as I can, then get some ideas together.” She ignored the slight flutter in her stomach at the thought of seeing Kateb again. It wasn’t as if she was looking forward to another evening with him.

  Not that it was a good sign when she started lying to herself, she thought glumly. She was looking forward to seeing him and was just twisted enough to be thrilled to have an excuse.

  Which meant what? That she’d enjoyed the sex? Silly question, of course she had. Or did this mean something more? That she actually liked the man?

  Alarm bells went off in her head. Liking was the first step in the slick road to feeling more and she knew the danger of that.

  She shook off the thoughts. “I’ll be back in a few days to tell you what he said.”

  “Thank you.” Rasha picked up a bracelet and handed it to her. “In honor of your visit.”

  The bracelet was beautif
ul—links of gold that seemed to glow.

  “While I’m seriously tempted, I’m going to say no. It’s too much. Save it. If I can help, then I’ll accept it gladly.”

  Rasha hesitated, then nodded. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

  “Me, too.”

  They walked to the front of the house. Rasha let her out. Victoria noticed a young boy playing in the garden.

  “Sa’id,” Rasha said sharply. “Do not stop here. Go at once.”

  The boy looked up. He was thin and shabbily dressed, but when he saw Victoria, he smiled.

  “Your hair is very pretty,” he said. “I haven’t seen anything like it.”

  She smiled back and said, “Thank you,” when what she was really thinking was where on earth would she get highlights done in the middle of the desert? She waved at Rasha and at the boy, then hurried in the direction of the Winter Palace.

  She should see Kateb right away, she told herself. If only to talk to him about the women and her plans to take them global. She thought about how he’d kissed her the previous night and the feel of his hands on her body and found herself not-so-secretly hoping he planned to have his way with her again.

  Soon.

  Chapter Six

  Victoria returned to the harem to change her clothes before going to see Kateb. She told herself it was because she wanted to be professional when she talked to him about Rasha and the women making jewelry, but she didn’t actually believe the words.

  She kept on the long skirt, but replaced comfortable sandals she could walk in with a high-heeled pair. She exchanged her T-shirt for a fitted camisole-style blouse with lace, added an ankle bracelet, freshened her makeup, then had to press her hand to her stomach to quell the sudden attack of anxious butterflies.

  “This is no big deal,” she whispered to herself. “It’s just Kateb.”

  Whom she had recently seen naked and made love with.

  She was both excited and nervous, while oddly uncomfortable. Not a combination of emotions designed to put her into a meditative state, she thought, trying to find humor because it was better than fear or worry.

  She left the harem and went in search of the offices. All working palaces had offices where the day-to-day details were handled. Government required files and computers and good lighting. Even in a thousand-year-old palace.

  As she explored, she told herself that she’d traveled with Kateb to be his mistress, but the concept wasn’t real to her. It was a scene in a book or a movie—not her life. No wonder she was still finding her way. Yet last night it had been very real, complete with incredible sex with a sheik she barely knew. If she’d been asked before they’d been intimate, she would have sworn she wasn’t capable of being swept away so completely. Now she knew differently.

  But was it the circumstances or the man? Which was better? That she’d given in to passion because it had been a long time and the guy knew what he was doing? Or was it specifically about him? Was there something else? Something more powerful and frightening?

  She didn’t want it to be the latter. If it was, she was in danger. She could be hurt or worse. Look at her mother. No—she wasn’t attracted to Kateb in a relationship kind of way. Her heart was firmly locked away and nothing was going to change that.

  Which left chemistry. Fine. They were good together in bed. She hadn’t experienced that sort of attraction before but as long as she didn’t make it more than it was, she would be fine. Think of the calories she could burn in a night with him.

  She made her way to the rear of the palace, then followed a couple of guys in Western dress up to the second floor. Stone walls gave way to sensible drywall and offices. She walked toward a serious man in a suit, sitting behind a large desk.

  “I’d like to see Kateb,” she told him.

  The man was probably a couple of years younger than her. He was the equivalent of a receptionist, but she could tell by the way he looked at her that he thought he was just a little better than everyone else.

  “The prince is busy.” His tone of voice dismissed her.

  “How do you know I don’t have an appointment?”

  “Because I manage his calendar.”

  She doubted that. Kateb would have a personal assistant who took care of the details. Desk Boy would probably have a copy on his computer, nothing more.

  “You might want to tell him I’m here,” she said, smiling pleasantly.

  Desk Boy looked her up and down. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  He turned back to his computer.

  Victoria wanted to slap him. Instead she gave him an even bigger smile. “The blonde thing should be a clue. Do you see many Americans out here? I’m guessing you don’t. You should also listen better when you’re getting your coffee, because I’m going to guess that there’s been plenty of chatter about Kateb’s new mistress. That would be me. Now you can take me to him or I can find my way there myself and complain about you. Either works. Which is it going to be?”

  “I know who you are,” Desk Boy said with a sneer. “I know exactly who and what you are. Go away.”

  Victoria took a step back. She felt as if she’d been slapped. Culturally, mistresses were slightly below the queen but above everyone else. It was considered respectable, even an honor, to be the prince’s mistress. While she’d had personal issues about sleeping with Kateb, she’d never worried about how she would be treated by his people.

  She didn’t know what to do or say. Before she could come up with a plan, she sensed someone coming up behind her. A heartbeat later, she felt a warm hand on the small of her back as Kateb moved next to her.

  “She is mine,” he said, his voice low and cold. “And therefore an extension of me.”

  Desk Boy went pale and stood. “Yes, S-Sir,” he stammered. He turned to Victoria. “My apologies.”

  Too little, too late, she thought but didn’t say. Instead she nodded and relaxed a little as the heat from Kateb’s hand warmed her.

  He guided her down the long corridor, then into a huge office. Once he took his hand away, she felt herself start to shake.

  “He was so rude,” she whispered. “I didn’t expect that. The look on his face…”

  “It’s not about you,” he told her, closing the door. “He comes from a powerful family. His eldest brother died a few years ago. He was a good man and well liked. The family believes if he had lived, he would have been chosen by the elders as the next leader.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Who is to say? Probably not. Last year his father approached me, trying to arrange a marriage between me and the family’s oldest daughter. I refused.”

  That could be awkward, she thought. “So basically the family hates you.”

  “No. The daughter was in love with someone else and grateful I refused her.”

  “Was that the reason you did?”

  He shrugged. “We would not have suited each other.”

  She doubted that was the real reason. Kateb had been nice and he would hate anyone to know about it. “So it’s just Desk Boy who has the attitude?”

  “Desk Boy?”

  “You know who I mean.”

  “I will send him to the city. Some time working for one of my brothers will distract him.”

  Victoria wouldn’t be sorry to see him go. “Now that we’ve solved that problem, I need to talk to you about something.”

  He walked around to his desk and sat down. “Which is?”

  There was something about the way he looked at her, she thought, unable to figure out what he was thinking. Almost as if he were angry with her. Yet he’d rescued her. Or had that been about claiming what was his? About his station rather than hers?

  “Victoria?” He sounded impatient.

  She approached the desk. It was large and carved. The room itself had to be at the base of one of the towers—the window walls angled, forming a rough semicircle. There were rugs and low sofas and an air of importance that remi
nded her of King Mukhtar’s office in the city.

  “I went to the bazaar today,” she began. “There is a small store selling locally made jewelry. I’ve seen it before and bought some.” She fingered her earrings. “The work is beautiful. Original and contemporary but with enough traditional elements to make each piece timeless.”

  He leaned back in his chair and looked bored. “And?”

  “They only sell here and in the city. Some guy takes their stuff to El Bahar and Bahania, but I think he might be ripping them off. Rasha didn’t sound that thrilled with him.” She drew in a deep breath. “I think they could do more. I think they could sell all over the world and be really successful. I don’t want to get too ahead of myself, but we could start with a Web site. I could even put it together. I’m not great at them, but I’ve taken a few classes and I’m sure I could help. I don’t know about selling to other countries, though. We’d probably need some kind of distribution arrangement or customs would be a nightmare. Maybe a catalog, too. And I don’t know about the money. There are those services that collect it for you. That would be good.”

  She paused for breath and because Kateb was staring past her, as if he wasn’t listening.

  Then his gaze swung back to her, only it wasn’t the least bit friendly. She felt the chill down to her ankle bracelet.

  “Are you on birth control?” he asked.

  “What?”

  He waited, practically glaring at her. “Are you?”

  Birth control. As in…

  Her mouth dropped open. She consciously closed it. Because they’d had sex. He hadn’t used a condom, which meant the whole protection element was up to her.

  Technically she was supposed to wait to be invited to sit, but suddenly that didn’t seem so very important. She sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk.

  “I never thought…” she began.

  “You’re not.” It wasn’t a question.

  “No.”

  “Because you wished to trap Nadim. Had you tried to get him into your bed? Did you hope to get pregnant, forcing him to marry you?” She sprang to her feet. “What? Are you crazy? I would never do that.”

 

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