The Sheikh's Impatient Virgin

by Kim Lawrence

  Eva lifted a hand to cover the base of her throat, where she was conscious of a pulse frantically leaping.

  ‘Do not call me that…and I’m not shrill.’ Shrill would have been an improvement on breathy. The longer his eyes held hers, the stronger a hold the languid lethargy that had invaded her limbs became.

  She disliked the entire out-of-control floaty feeling almost as much as the man who had caused it…without even trying.

  What if he tried?

  This horrifying thought made the idea of flinging herself from the moving vehicle not seem totally crazy and actually, the longer she considered it, the better an idea it became.

  ‘Take me home!’ She clenched her jaw against a grimace, shocked by the undercurrent of desperation in her shrill demand. ‘I…’ The rest of the words were lost when, without warning, he leant across her.

  She froze, stopped breathing, stopped thinking, but carried on feeling…The sensual input was painful. His dark head was close enough for Eva to smell the scent of his shampoo, close enough for her to feel the heat of his body.

  The moment did not last, but it was long enough for a drugged lethargy to wash over her and invade her limbs, then the door opened.

  Eva didn’t move. She looked at her avenue of escape blankly and felt her stomach dip as she thought about the tensile strength in the arm that brushed against her breasts.

  He was no longer touching her, but she was even more painfully aware of the tingling sensation in her nipples and the mortifying gush of liquid heat low in her belly.

  He was all hard bone and muscle, raw and male…

  Her delicate blue-veined eyelids fluttered, her lashes quivering against her flushed cheeks before they lifted and their glances locked.

  ‘You should not fight it. Marriage does not have to change everything…You and I have been enjoying empty sex outside marriage. I see no reason that we cannot carry on doing the same within marriage.’

  The cynical observation hit her like a blast of cold air.

  ‘You make it sound so tempting.’

  ‘Your alternative, Eva, is there.’

  Eva followed the direction of his nod and looked out into the scene framed by the open door and discovered the car had pulled over at the end of the road where she lived.

  A peaceful, quiet backwater, that at that moment was neither peaceful nor quiet. She blinked, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Had there been an accident…a gas leak?

  It had to be something pretty serious to bring TV crews with cameras here.

  ‘You wanted to go home.’

  ‘I don’t understand what’s happened.’

  ‘We have happened.’

  ‘Oh, my God!’

  It was hard to hear her horrified whisper and not feel a pang of sympathy, but the emotion did not show in his manner as Karim asked, ‘You still want to go home?’

  Eva continued to stare in utter bewilderment at the people, too many to count, milling around at the far end of the street. ‘But where did they all come from? Why…?’

  ‘Why do you think?’

  Eva, conscious of an icy fist of dread in her belly, felt panic lodged like a boulder behind her breastbone. ‘Me…?’ she said, losing all colour.

  ‘A student, the daughter of a famous man-hater, who didn’t know who her father was, let alone that he was a prince…Even if you had no connection with me this story would run and run…’

  ‘But they’ll lose interest. I’m just—’

  ‘The numbers will have doubled by morning.’

  The brutal observation made her flinch. ‘But when will I be able to go home?’

  ‘Do I have to spell it out? Every nut job in the country knows where you live. Pictures of you looking cute in pigtails and braces will be on TV screens. People who are your closest friends will tell their warts-and-all stories, lovers you have forgotten existed will crawl out of the woodwork.’

  ‘There are no…’ She stopped, closed her eyes and pressed a clenched fist to her mouth. The realisation hit her with the force of a boulder landing on her chest—life as she knew it was over.

  She felt resentment rise like bile inside her, and opened her angry green eyes. On one level she knew it was utterly irrational to lay the blame for all this at the feet of Karim, but she needed someone to blame and his shoulders were broad.

  Her accusing gaze drifted downwards and she thought, Very broad, while struggling to ignore the mental image of him without a shirt.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘THANK you so much for putting a positive spin on the situation,’ Eva said, injecting silky calm into her voice as she dragged her eyes from the almost surreal scene in the street to Karim’s face.

  She surprised a look on his face that had he been anyone else at all she would have interpreted as sympathy.

  ‘If you want positive spin or, for that matter, spin, I’m not your man.’

  ‘You’re not my man,’ she retorted seamlessly.

  ‘I could be.’

  ‘I…’ Her protective anger fell away so abruptly that Eva shivered. The anger had been her insulation, her protection. Suddenly she felt exposed, vulnerable and more alone than she had in her life previously.

  She reached for his hand and held on as if he were the only thing between her and drowning.

  ‘I can’t go home, can I? Not ever.’

  It wasn’t a question.

  She heard the choked sound of distress that came from her throat and bit down hard on her quivering lip, determined not to give him the satisfaction of falling apart before his eyes.

  ‘It is rarely a good thing to go backwards, or even stand still.’

  His voice was almost unrecognisably gentle…She sniffed and clung to his hand. Was he trying to make her cry?

  Karim struggled to maintain his objectivity as he watched her struggle to come to terms with reality. It was a big task…this sort of thing was tough enough if you had been brought up knowing that your every thoughtless action and careless word would be seized on by the media, scrutinised and pored over.

  Karim hardened his heart and reminded himself that she was overdue a reality check.

  A cry from outside made Eva turn.

  ‘It’s her!’

  Someone took up the cry and all turned in their direction. She watched as the pack began to advance en masse towards them.

  Karim spoke to the driver in his native tongue and, leaning across her, pulled the door closed, shutting out the yells and the crowds. ‘It’s all right.’ His hand went to the back of her head as she leaned into his chest; she was shaking hard.

  ‘I can’t do this.’ Her hands clenched into her sides, her nails gouging half moons into the soft flesh of her palms as she fought back the sobs of emotion that rose in her throat.

  ‘I can.’

  It was no boast, just a statement of fact.

  She turned her head. In profile his features radiated confidence and maybe some of it seeped into her because she was able to control the quiver in her voice as she asked, ‘So what happens now?’ Don’t think too far ahead, she advised herself—just take things one step at a time. ‘Do I have to go into hiding or something?’ Her smile was painfully false as she added, ‘Should I dye my hair and wear dark glasses?’

  Her comment drew Karim’s glance to her bright head and an image of it lying spread out on a pillow around her face flashed into his head. His jaw tightened.

  ‘That should not be necessary.’ But it might be necessary to put his libido back in its box; he had no time for distractions while he had this many potentially explosive balls in the air.

  Eva shrugged. ‘Just an idea. So what does happen now?’ Feeling emotionally battered, she struggled to feel any real interest in his response.

  ‘We are going to the hospital.’ As he turned his head to assess her reaction to this information it occurred to Karim that had he walked through the doors of Casualty with Eva now they would have jumped her to the head of the queue.

&nb
sp; The only trace of colour in her alabaster-pale face was the deep emerald green of her spectacular eyes. Her pallor served to emphasise the impression of fragility suggested by her fineboned features and slight build.

  Her self-possessed act might be more convincing if she had been able to stop her teeth audibly chattering.

  ‘A hospital?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Why—are you ill?’ There was still the suggestion of shadows of fatigue under his eyes, but he was projecting an aura of such vitality that Eva struggled to associate it as a sign of physical vulnerabilty.

  ‘I am not,’ he confirmed. ‘But my daughter is.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘You have a daughter?’ Eva didn’t know why the information came as such a shock.

  His brows lifted. ‘Is there any reason I should not have a daughter?’

  The regal hauteur in his manner made her feel irrationally defensive. ‘No, that is…no reason at all. I just didn’t…’ She stopped and angled him a questioning look. ‘She’s not well?’

  ‘No.’

  The words ‘blood out of a stone’ popped into Eva’s head as she regarded him with growing frustration. ‘I’m sorry your daughter isn’t well.’ And it would explain why resolving her problem was less of a priority. Eva realised that she had been relying too heavily on the hope he could pluck a solution out of the air.

  This was her problem, she reminded herself.

  ‘Your wife.’

  ‘She died.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, wincing at the inadequacy.

  Able to hear the next probing question she was working towards, he acknowledged her words with a curt jerk of his head and said, ‘We were married nearly seven years. She was killed in a car accident two years ago. I have had lovers since.’ He arched a brow. ‘Does that satisfy your curiosity?’

  Eva looked away and thought, Not really. He hadn’t answered the important questions like had he loved his wife? Did he still love her?

  Karim regretted his tone. He was aware that, as the only person available, she was taking the brunt of his growing tension. The final round of blood results would be revealed soon. He was trying hard not to anticipate them one way or the other, and failing.

  It actually helped being forced to turn his thoughts to something that he could control—he slid a glance towards the woman beside him and thought, To a degree.

  Eva registered that they were entering an underground car park, a vast echoing concrete space. If this was for the hospital, business was not good because they were literally the only vehicle in it.

  ‘If you want to visit, I’ll wait in the car. Don’t worry, I’ll duck down if anyone comes,’ she promised.

  ‘I admire your ingenuity but there will be no other cars.’

  Before she could question this peculiar prediction he added, ‘And you are coming with me.’

  Eva threw him a doubtful look. ‘If your daughter is ill she might not want to see strangers.’

  ‘I will visit my daughter alone after the ceremony.’

  All at sea now, Eva shook her head. ‘What ceremony?’

  ‘The civil wedding ceremony. By the time the story appears we will be husband and wife.’

  Eva stared. ‘You know, you don’t look insane.’

  ‘Of course, the venue is not ideal.’

  The concession drew a strangled laugh from Eva.

  ‘King Hassan favoured waiting until he arrives tomorrow, but—’

  Eva’s eyes shot wide. ‘My grandfather is coming…?’ she yelped in alarm. ‘What is this—a conspiracy?’ Stupid question—of course it was.

  He ignored her interruption and said calmly, ‘We met when at your grandfather’s palace last year.’

  ‘We did?’ she said, humouring him.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And was it love at first sight?’

  Frowning at her sarcastic interjection, he continued stonily, ‘The official wedding plans were put on hold when Amira became ill. But we married in secret at a civil ceremony because you wished to be by my side and support me through this difficult time.’

  Eva found it bizarre to hear this fairy story recounted in a flat, detached tone she associated with someone reciting the periodic table.

  ‘And this is your idea of a solution?’ She shook her head. ‘You look like you have a mind like a steel trap—how wrong could I be? I won’t even bother pointing out all the flaws in your plan, because it isn’t going to happen.’

  ‘That is up to you.’

  ‘That’s the first sane thing you’ve said,’ Eva observed, feeling not at all comforted by his admission.

  ‘Look, I don’t have the time for this.’ He glanced down at the watch on his wrist and the furrow lines between his brows deepened. ‘So I will spell out the facts and then you may make your decision.’

  She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter what you say—’ She intercepted his expression and, with a disgruntled sniff, said, ‘Oh, all right, then, I’m listening.’

  ‘Your grandfather is a pragmatic man. He is not averse to change and progress, but he understands that such things are not brought about overnight. He could impose change but he would not because he knows that for change to succeed he must take his people with him on the journey.’

  He said her grandfather but as she listened Eva got the impression that the philosophy he espoused was perhaps a little more personal—his own?

  ‘Honour seems an old-fashioned concept to you.’

  He was presuming she had no moral values; Eva’s lips tightened at the assumption.

  ‘But,’ he continued, ‘it is a central precept to your grandfather’s life. If King Hassan did not react to an insult offered his granddaughter he would lose respect and be viewed as a weak king. He has no choice in this matter.’

  ‘Is he very angry?’ she asked in a small voice.

  ‘Not with you.’

  ‘With you…’ Her shoulders slumped. ‘Oh, God! I’m sorry, I really am, but don’t worry,’ she added brightly. ‘I’ll make it right. I’ll tell him how it was that you were…I’ll—’

  Looking visibly unappreciative of her assurance, Karim cut across her, his voice sounding to Eva awfully like that of a man who had reached the limit of his—limited—patience.

  ‘Have you been listening to a word I have said? Clearly not.’

  The dry afterthought brought a militant sparkle to her eyes. ‘I can—’

  ‘No,’ he interrupted in a tone that made Eva retreat back into her seat. ‘You do not appear to understand anything. If this scandal is not smothered before it takes on a life of its own—’ Karim had seen it happen ‘—there will be consequences. Consequences that no earnest assurances or your version of the truth will alter.’

  Eva’s defiance in the face of his uncompromising edict was shaky. ‘What could happen that would be so bad?’

  Even as she voiced the perfectly valid question the voice in her head was saying, Bad idea.

  The voice got louder when Karim smiled with, it seemed to a resentful Eva, a certain grim relish and told her, ‘The contract that is yet to be signed to allow the pipeline from our oilfields to pass through Azharim in order to reach the coast—this would not happen. The knock-on effect…’ He shrugged.

  ‘It would be massive and not just economic. This thing will not happen in isolation. The surrounding countries of the region would undoubtedly be drawn in—sides would be taken.

  ‘Political stability is not something we take for granted. It is something we work at and have done for many years. Our countries have collaborated on several projects, at the present a cancer hospital—it would be the only one in the area.’

  The light of determination in his eyes glowed bright as Karim considered the project that was very close to his own heart.

  The royal connection went deep. His own cousin, Hakim, who was an internationally renown oncologist—Hakim had diagnosed Amira’s condition—had left his position at a Swiss clinic to personally get the project u
p and running.

  ‘So no pressure then.’ Underneath her flippancy Eva was feeling utterly trapped; she felt as if the stability of an entire region had been placed on her shoulders.

  He levelled a questioning look at her pale face and said quietly, ‘You wish me to go on?’

  Eva’s disbelieving laugh contained no humour. ‘There’s more?’

  Karim stayed silent and she turned her head, looking out of the window into the empty car park. ‘I get the general idea. If I don’t marry you, I’ll be responsible for, well, just about anything and everything.’ She expelled a shaky breath and gave another strained little laugh. ‘I suppose it would be easier to say what I won’t be responsible for.’

  ‘It is your choice.’

  It so was not! Eva, her eyes filled with simmering resentment, turned in her seat to face him. ‘It’s moral blackmail.’

  ‘It is necessity, but semantics aside—’

  ‘Semantics aside,’ she gritted though clenched teeth, ‘you’re relying heavily on me having a conscience.’

  A glimmer of emotion Eva struggled to put a name to flickered across his face before he took her chin between his finger and tilted her face up to his.

  ‘I know you have a conscience, so, yes, this is a stacked deck, but remember I am not asking you to do something that I am not willing to do myself.’

  His fingers slipped away and Eva, her full lower lip caught between her teeth, dropped her gaze and didn’t see Karim’s shoulders relax in relief when she nodded her head.

  ‘I feel like I’ve just jumped off a cliff.’ And while I’m doing it all I can think about is the texture of his skin…which makes me not only suicidal, but insane!

  ‘Don’t worry. As your husband it will be my job to catch you.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry—if I jump I’ll take you with me.’

  A slow smile spread across his sombre features. ‘A woman who thinks in terms of retribution…I can identify with that.’

  Eva closed her eyes; she was so out of her depth!

  The lift doors opened onto a large square reception area.

  It was ultra-modern and like no hospital Eva had ever seen. The decor involved a great deal of glass. Staring at a solid wall of it with water running over it, Eva followed Karim’s impatient direction to precede him.