Claimed by the Sheikh

by Rachael Thomas

  ‘I’m sorry—about that night, I mean.’ She looked shyly up at him and his heart suddenly thumped like a drum. ‘In my inexperience, I was doing what I thought right.’

  He clenched his fist harder. She was testing him fully. First the soft words, then the fiery determination, then the coyness. What would be next? The tears?

  ‘It’s not important any more.’ He moved away from her, away from the intoxicating scent of her perfume and the alluring darkness of her eyes, away from the temptation of her soft lips.

  ‘As you wish,’ she said, her words quiet but firm.

  * * *

  Amber stood and watched him, his powerful body rigid with discomfort. If her confession of love had made him so uncomfortable, she had no alternative but to insist on returning to Paris and her old life. She would demand a divorce. She wouldn’t be any worse off than the moment he’d rejected her on their wedding night.

  But you will. The thought lingered in her mind. You will because you’ve loved him in every way a woman can, with your heart and your body.

  ‘Don’t play the capitulating woman with me, Amber.’ His harsh words wounded more than she was ever prepared to let him know.

  She had to concede defeat. Their marriage was doomed. No—it was over. He didn’t love her, would never love her if his last words were true, and she just couldn’t face living like that. If she went home, back to her life in Paris, she would eventually pick up the pieces, wouldn’t she? To love the memory of the man must be better than to live each day with him, knowing he didn’t love her.

  ‘I am merely being practical, Kazim. You and I, we can’t carry on like this.’ It was an effort to keep her voice steady when her heart was pounding so frantically. But if he could be in total command of his emotions, be so cold and harsh, then so could she.

  ‘We have to remain married, Amber. I have a duty to my country to produce an heir. You know that.’ His lips set firmly and she noticed the shadow of stubble on his chin. Her mind, totally unable to process what he’d just said, instead focused on the completely irrelevant fact that he needed to shave and how much she liked it.

  ‘I can’t,’ she whispered, still unable to drag her eyes from his face. Then it hit her full force. He wanted her to stay, to remain in a loveless marriage, and he wanted her to have his child, his heir.

  Disbelief robbed her of words. How could he expect her to have a child, to bring it into the world out of a sense of duty, passing on that heavy legacy to the child—her child? No, the need to be dutiful stopped here. It stopped with her.

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’ he demanded quickly, his voice deep and gravelly.

  She took a deep breath and stood her ground, instilling as much courage into her voice as possible. This was one battle he would lose. ‘I will not have your child, Kazim.’

  ‘But that is why you are here in Barazbin.’ Incredulity resonated from him and she smiled. She had dared to defy and challenge the mighty Prince Kazim Al Amed of Barazbin. Not something he was used to, she was sure, but what could he do to her now? The worst had already happened.

  ‘That is not the only reason I’m here and you know it.’ Fury pumped around her now, forcing her on because, whatever the outcome, this had to be sorted—once and for all. ‘I am here because you blackmailed me with the health of a young child, someone I care about, Kazim. How could you be so cruel?’

  His jaw clenched but he said nothing and she ploughed on.

  ‘When we talked that night in my flat, not once did you mention your need for an heir. What were you planning? To seduce me then send me away again as soon as I’d had the child?’ Hurt spiked in her heart at the very thought of such a suggestion. Would he really be that hard and unfeeling? A few days ago she would have said no, but right now, as he looked at her, she wasn’t at all sure.

  ‘That’s outrageous!’ he protested. But she stood firm, his reaction proof enough that that was exactly what he’d planned.

  As if to test her further, the wailing of the wind increased and the tent walls seemed to flap wildly, and she wondered if it would at any minute fall down around her. Just like her marriage had. Now it seemed her life was doing the same thing. For a few short days in England she’d glimpsed what could be, sampled the delights of loving, but since arriving back in Barazbin everything had fallen apart. Her dreams and shattered hopes were crushed almost beyond recognition. He’d never wanted her, not in the way she wanted him. He needed her, not as a woman, but in the same way an actor would need a prop.

  ‘It’s the truth, Kazim, and you know it.’ Oh, how she wished she could storm off somewhere and give vent to her ever increasing frustration.

  ‘Truth seems to be something you are not familiar with.’ He spoke softly, his voice lowered and his inky black eyes fixing hers with a piercing gaze. ‘From the minute I saw you in that club, you have lied to me. You can’t deny that, Amber. Everything you have said has been wrapped in deceit.’

  ‘That is not true,’ she gasped, remembering the way she’d allowed him to jump to conclusions about the money. She’d let him assume she’d spent it all, had frittered it away on frivolous things. ‘I’m not in the wrong. You’re the one who always made assumptions because His Royal Highness is always right, no matter what.’

  ‘Now you are talking nonsense.’ He shot the words out, his anger at her ridicule obvious.

  ‘I’m speaking the truth and you know it. You deceived me about the reason I had to return here with you, not to mention the callous blackmail tactics you employed.’ The tent seemed to bow inwards to them, as if the wind wanted to join in, but she didn’t take her eyes from his.

  * * *

  ‘This has gone on long enough,’ Kazim snapped as fury and frustration boiled over inside him. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing more to discuss. They were married and that marriage would produce the heir he needed.

  He watched as Amber took in a deep breath. He’d never met such a challenging woman. Neither had he met a woman he wanted so much. Even now, with furious words flying between them and the undisguised mistrust radiating from her, he still desired her.

  ‘Yes, it has and as soon as I can I am leaving. I want to go back to my flat in Paris, and to start my art course. I want my life back, Kazim. I will not be a part of your power games.’

  ‘Strong words for a woman in such a weak position.’

  ‘I’m not the one who needs the heir,’ she said slowly, her delicate brows raised in mockery. ‘Which I think will put you in the weak position. And yes, I intend to be strong.’

  ‘You are back in Barazbin as my wife, truly my wife.’ He watched as annoyance flashed across her face. ‘That, at least, is something we can build on.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘The attraction we have for one another. You can’t deny that, even now. You don’t want me to kiss you?’ He watched her eyes turn a deeper brown and become heavy, but as her lips pressed together he saw her expression change, as if she’d just stepped behind a protective barrier. A wall meant to keep him out.

  ‘I most certainly do not,’ she retorted as she walked away.

  She wasn’t getting away with it that easily. If he had to face up to things then so did she. Love was what she’d called the simmering tension that stretched tautly between them every second they were together. He called it lust.

  ‘Prove it,’ he said as he followed her, grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her against him, the silk of her abaya whispering softly. Her breasts pressed against his chest and a hot stab of lust hurtled through him. All he was doing was proving he was the one attracted to her, while she remained rigid in his arms. Unyielding and unrelenting.

  ‘No, I will not.’ Each word was razor-sharp and she glared up at him.

  The challenge was too much.

  ‘Then I will.’

  With tha
t his lips claimed hers in a demanding kiss, one that made his pulse race. Beneath his lips, hers remained still and pressed tightly shut, but as his hand plunged into the softness of her hair they parted and a sigh escaped. His heart rate rocketed and desire thumped in his blood.

  He’d proved his point. It didn’t matter how much she protested, she wanted him. She was his. He should stop now, should pull back and let her know he’d won, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. Hot need for her was rushing through him and as she sighed against his lips once more, pressing her body harder against him, he knew he was lost.

  ‘How can this be so right when everything else is wrong?’ she whispered as she pulled back to look up at him, her breathing hard and fast, her eyes like molten gold and heavy with desire.

  He couldn’t answer her, not when he didn’t even know why himself. He’d never known such an overwhelming need before, such all consuming passion that had the power to render anything else inconsequential. ‘All that matters at the moment is kissing you,’ he said in a hoarse whisper as he ran his fingers once again through her hair before angling her head so that he could kiss her deeper and harder than ever. ‘I don’t care about duty, the wind or the rebels. All I care about is kissing you.’

  Amber was intoxicating and Kazim was well and truly lost. Could it be that he was hers, that he would for ever be hers?

  ‘Kazim, I...’ Her voice was barely above a whisper as she looked up at him, her brown eyes full of the same desire that thudded in his veins. ‘I can’t...we mustn’t.’

  ‘We should,’ he said in a low rumble, unable to deny his need for her any longer. ‘And we will.’

  With that he moved her towards the low bed, laid her down against the array of cushions and covered her body with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her, all protest and fight gone from her glorious body.

  ‘We shouldn’t,’ she said in a husky whisper as she spread her palms against his back, which only increased the heated hardness of his body. The very fact that she still wanted him, that, despite her protests, she couldn’t stop kissing and touching him, made him want her all the more.

  * * *

  Urgency filled Amber’s kiss as she pulled him down closer to her. She wanted him. She knew that doing this would only make it harder to leave, but she was powerless to resist. She shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. It was madness—total madness.

  Kazim’s hands deftly worked to remove the daring red abaya she’d dressed in until she lay on a bed of red silk, totally naked to his gaze, her whole body on fire. Eagerly he pulled his robe off, towering above her as he knelt among the cushions. He was magnificent; every honed muscle made her quiver with desire.

  ‘Do you still think we shouldn’t?’ His deep voice, now a hoarse whisper, sent a shiver of anticipation racing down her spine.

  She shook her head and licked her dry lips as his dark-skinned nakedness was revealed, her eyes drawn down to the evidence that, if nothing else, he desired her.

  Warmth pooled between her legs and she reached out to touch him, enjoying the sudden power as he closed his eyes and groaned in pleasure. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more—much more.

  As if sensing her desire, he moved and once again covered her body, this time the heat of his scorching hers. Then, with frantic need, more powerful than she’d ever experienced before, she wrapped her legs around him, encouraging him deep inside her. She lifted her hips, moving with him as a tidal wave of passion submerged them. She cried out, hearing him cry out too.

  Passion slipped away and she lay naked against him, the wind blowing less wildly against the tent. Kazim had been right. The storm had blown itself out and, like the wind, her heart rate slowly became more normal.

  She shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have given into the carnal lust that just one touch from him could spark. How could she leave and go back to her old life after a moment like that?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE JOURNEY BACK to the palace had been strained, the week in the desert abandoned. The tension had pulled them almost to breaking point. Amber still couldn’t understand how they had ended up making love the previous night. Had Kazim been proving a point to her or himself? If so, what was it?

  Did he want her to admit she was unable to resist him? Or was it that he could share such a moment without uttering a single word of love? He’d made it perfectly clear that love wasn’t and never would be on his agenda. It was only ever going to be about duty.

  As she’d argued her point last night she’d been sure she wanted to leave, but now, as the hot sun shone down on the peace of the palace gardens, she didn’t know what she wanted any more. She had fallen more deeply in love with him with each passing day and, whilst she craved love, she couldn’t imagine a future without him.

  ‘I was told I’d find you here.’ Kazim’s deep, sexy voice broke through her tumultuous thoughts and she looked up, shielding her eyes against the sun, watching him approach.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as her stomach turned over. The image he created in his white robes and headdress was overwhelming. His tanned face was so handsome her fingers itched to touch him, to caress his face and feel the slight roughness of his stubble.

  But she couldn’t. In that moment she realised she would be fooling herself if she stayed. She had to leave this place and this marriage, in order to keep her sanity. Her reaction to just seeing him now proved this beyond any doubt. And now was the moment to tell him. The inevitable had been delayed long enough.

  She stood up, not wanting to have him tower over her, reminding her of his power. ‘I must leave Barazbin. I need to go back to Paris.’ She kept her voice hard and determined. The previous night in the desert had proved just how easily he could derail her.

  He looked at her, his eyes searching her face, then he crossed his arms over his chest and took in a deep breath. Those seconds she waited for his response seemed like for ever.

  ‘As you wish.’ His tone was curt and his eyes sharp as he looked into hers.

  Had he just agreed? Just like that, she was free? Relief washed over her and she took in a deep ragged breath, amazed how easy it had been. Then hurt rattled in. He thought so little of her he was willing to let her go, to leave for good.

  ‘I need to be back in Paris for when Annie and Claude arrive home.’ She pressed her palm hard against her collarbone, as if doing so would keep in all the hurt that threatened to escape, to make itself known to him.

  She saw his jaw clench. ‘Will you stay in Paris?’ His voice was a guttural growl, reminding her of the first rumbles of thunder.

  Was he asking if she intended ever to return to Barazbin? Was that why he’d accepted her request so calmly, because he thought it would be a visit? Whatever the reason, she had to make it clear.

  ‘Yes, Kazim,’ she said, hating the slight falter in her voice. ‘I will be staying in Paris—for good.’ She looked into his eyes and again the seconds ticked by, but she couldn’t remain like that and she lowered her gaze, breaking the connection.

  He pressed his lips together and nodded in acceptance of what she’d just said. The sun hurt her eyes and she had trouble seeing his face clearly, unable to read his expression. Why, after all that had happened in the desert, was he allowing her to walk out on him?

  She hadn’t expected this, but it hurt. She loved him—so much it was painful, and he was totally devoid of any emotion, any reaction to the news that she was leaving him. She swallowed down hard as tears threatened her. Quickly, she used the fierceness of the sun as an excuse. ‘That sun is so bright, I can hardly see you.’

  ‘I know,’ he said calmly, his eyes never leaving her face.

  What did he know? That her heart was breaking just to say those words? That she loved him so much she had to leave? Frantically, she searched for something else to
say, anything that would take her mind from the pain of saying goodbye.

  ‘What about Annie and Claude? Have you any news from them?’ A little edge of desperation crept into her voice. She hadn’t spoken to Annie and was nervous as to what she would say, especially about her marriage. Shamefaced, she realised that if she’d lied to Kazim by omission she’d also lied to Annie the same way.

  ‘They are due to return from America next week, all being well.’ He walked along the pathway that staked its claim boldly through the garden. He broke the eye contact that had seen every move she’d made, every emotion that had crossed her face.

  After a few paces he stopped, his back to her, pausing as if he wanted to say something else. She waited. Nothing.

  She looked at him, drinking him in as if it was the last time she’d see him, trying to imprint him on her memory, her heart.

  ‘Good, that will give me time to get the flat in order before they return,’ she said brightly—a little too brightly if his sudden glance at her was anything to go by. ‘I’d like to leave as soon as possible.’

  * * *

  Kazim knew what she said made sense. Their marriage should never have been revived. It had been a mistake for him to ever think of getting her back, they were so wrong for one another. Yes, he might desire her with a raging fire more wicked than the desert heat, but that wasn’t a foundation on which to build his marriage and the future of his kingdom. Still, her eagerness to leave hurt.

  ‘I have a plane ready. You will leave at once.’ He couldn’t look at her and instead feigned interest in the plants that flowered in the garden, with little regard for the anguish he felt deep inside. That pain was something he couldn’t yet analyse; all he could do was lock it away, pretend it didn’t exist.

  ‘You have a plane ready?’ The shock was more than evident in her voice and he closed his eyes against the wave of nausea that thrashed his body. He nodded his answer, unable to trust his voice to work, and remained with his back to her. He had to appear in control and right now he wasn’t.