The Sheikh's Secret Son

by Maggie Cox

  ‘You’ll pay for that disrespectful remark, you little minx.’

  Turning and fastening his hands round her waist, he effortlessly hauled her on top of him with a fierce look. It wasn’t even remotely threatening, yet never had he looked more like a warrior than he did right then. His dark hair was still tied behind his head with the black ribbon, and the style drew immediate attention to his iron jaw and hollowed cheekbones as his smouldering dark gaze mercilessly took her prisoner.

  Eagerly possessive and desirous, she felt as limp as a rag doll when she gazed back at him. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was insatiable...at least as far as he was concerned.

  ‘I vow that I will make it my life’s work to keep you pleasured until the end of our days, my Queen,’ he taunted her.

  ‘That’s all well and good, but I’m hardly a queen.’

  ‘Not yet...at least not officially...but you soon will be. In my country I am King, and naturally the woman I marry becomes Queen.’

  ‘If that’s intended to reassure me, it doesn’t. To be frank, it makes me want to run away and hide.’

  Zafir’s breath momentarily grew still. ‘Are you serious? Why would you want to do such a thing?’

  ‘Because I’ve always lived a fairly quiet life, and now it seems I’m going to be thrust into the limelight.’

  ‘You will grow into the role, my sweet—as those of us born onto this path have to. But, remember, I will always be there by your side to help you.’

  Overcome by the declaration, Darcy made to move away. But her lover dropped his hands firmly onto her slender thighs and held her fast. Her blood instantly slowed and then pumped sluggishly with the heat of molten lava as it became evident he was already aroused.

  ‘Don’t go away. All I want to do is to make you feel good. Have you forgotten how it used to be between us? What finally drove us into bed?’

  ‘I remember. And I don’t deny the old attraction between us is still there. But it doesn’t mean that we can make things right again so easily.’

  ‘If I have caused you pain at any time then I sincerely regret it. But we have a son now, and I want to try and make amends for the wrongs of the past. Can you not see that my intentions are sincere?’

  Wanting desperately to believe him, Darcy was still wary of letting down her guard. The proof of the pudding was in the eating. She prayed Zafir’s declaration was genuine but, glancing at him right then, she found herself helplessly captured by the sight of his rippling smooth muscles and powerfully built shoulders.

  She knew already how hard it was to resist him. Seeing the shamelessly inviting look in his slumberous ebony eyes, she felt her breath catch. It would be oh, so easy to give in to the temptations of the flesh and discount all that had gone before in the hope that, given time, her trust would be repaired. Then again, would she be a fool for giving in so easily and then, a little bit further on down the line, come to regret it?

  ‘You do not answer, and that perturbs me.’

  ‘It’s just that good intentions aren’t always fulfilled...no matter how strong the desire.’

  ‘I think all this talk is complicating what should be very simple. All we need to ask right now is do we desire each other or don’t we? I know what my answer is.’

  Zafir cupped her face and immediately brought her mouth down to his. His hands were large and warm next to her skin, and oddly protective. The kiss quickly became languorous and deep, with Zafir’s hot, silken tongue hungrily sweeping the soft satin textures inside her mouth and seductively duelling with hers. A charge of demanding sexual need swept through her.

  ‘Your breasts are like velvet ivory...the touch and the texture of your skin exquisite. Can you remember how it felt when I touched you there?’ he whispered against her neck.

  Stunning her, he filled his hands and captured her nipples between his fingertips. His lascivious glance unflinching, he shamelessly added some pressure and pinched hard...

  She nearly shot through the roof at the dizzying sensation of pain mingled with pleasure. Then he took one nipple into his mouth and suckled. Throwing back her head, Darcy whimpered. Her hair had already been coming adrift from the tortoiseshell clip, and now the golden strands loosened even more.

  Zafir’s hungrily searching hands began to explore the rest of her...he was running his hands freely over her body. In the meantime her hair brushed against the nipples he had so erotically inflamed and she couldn’t suppress a feverish groan. Against the tenderness of her flesh the strands felt more like knives rather than something so innocuous...

  ‘I never could get enough of you,’ he confessed huskily.

  Leaning towards him to fully receive his kiss again, all she could manage in reply was a murmured, ‘Mmm...’

  In less than a heartbeat, he thrust inside her. He was hard, hot, and everything she could have wished for, and straight away their bodies fell into a sensual rhythm.

  Feeling dazed with relief at having this basic but very necessary human need fulfilled, she realised how much she’d missed the carnal satisfaction this man could deliver. She was thrilled by the touch of his mouth against hers, and his avid response told her he felt the same. No matter how much time had passed since they’d first become lovers, it seemed their physical desires remained perfectly in tandem. And with intimacy came the knowledge that she was somehow able to set aside the devastation and heartache she’d endured and focus her attention purely on the present.

  It was a welcome revelation. The truth was that all she’d ever wanted from Zafir was his love...passionate, devoted and undying. Anything less would just not be good enough.

  Darcy had the distinct sense that time had slowed down, and now it was stopping altogether as she was in Zafir’s arms. All she was aware of was him. One caress flowed into another like a seamless symphony, as though they had never forgotten which note came next. She didn’t want his amorous attentions to end. Together they were creating a magical world of their own, where no one could intrude or make demands, and she revelled in the freedom of that.

  When the urgency of their lovemaking came to a wholly gratifying end they lay back together on the cool sheets beneath the counterpane. Her satisfying sense of fulfilment thankfully didn’t disperse quickly. Instead of feeling almost numb to the idea of experiencing intimacy again, Darcy wondered how she had managed so long without it. Yet again the man at her side had awakened feelings in her she’d been sure she’d buried long ago. The notion that they’d been revived and might possibly remain in that state for many years to come couldn’t help but tantalise her.

  With a sigh, Zafir turned towards her. Lifting his hand, he let his artistic fingers explore her face with fascination. They put her in mind of a master sculptor, so enamoured of his craft that he wanted to imprint the shape and texture of the features he studied on his memory for always.

  The very notion that he should want to do such a thing made Darcy’s heart race. For such a masculine man his touch was remarkably gentle, and what woman wouldn’t revel in the carnal feelings it instigated?

  But all of a sudden he looked perturbed.

  ‘You tell me there has been no one in your life since me...’ He frowned. ‘But during all these years have you not missed having a man to hold you and make love to you? Knowing how passionate you are, I cannot believe you have never longed for that.’

  In truth, she had forgotten how frank Zafir could be sometimes. Now she recalled how he always cut to the chase rather than beating around the bush.

  Her cheeks flaring with heat, she replied, ‘Occasionally I’ve missed not having someone to hold me—yes, of course I have. The single life gets lonely sometimes. But I’ve not wanted another relationship since I had Sami. I certainly haven’t missed the physical side of things so much that I would risk bringing a stranger into my son’s life.’

  ‘It pleases me to hear that. Your devotion to our son is commendable. It reaffirms that my decision to marry you is the right one.’

  ‘And
you, Zafir?’

  Focusing her attention on him so she wouldn’t misread his expression, Darcy tucked some drifting tendrils of hair around her ear. In the throes of their lovemaking her disarrayed hair had fallen down past her shoulders.

  ‘Have you had many other women in your life since me?’

  She almost held her breath.

  ‘I suppose it is only fair that you should ask me that.’

  Reaching behind him, he arranged his pillows behind his back and sat up.

  His powerful shoulders tensing, he glanced round at her. ‘I don’t deny that in my position I have many opportunities to meet beautiful and well-connected women. But that doesn’t mean I want to sleep with them all. And if all I wanted was to be with someone suitable who met with the dictates of my family do you not think I would have gone ahead and married Farrida?’

  Now she sat up too. Tugging the counterpane a little further to cover her breasts, she drew up her knees. ‘It’s just that you’re a very attractive and virile man, and I can’t see you willingly going without—without sexual attention for very long.’

  His answer was part grimace and part smile. ‘You’re right, of course. But it goes against my personal code to be promiscuous, so when I first returned to Zachariah after our relationship ended I took a mistress. We entered into what you might call a business arrangement, in so far as there were no feelings involved. But it wasn’t long before we parted. The whole thing felt indescribably empty to me. That was when I resolved to get on with my life and put my energies into running the business.’

  Her mouth drying at this latest revelation, Darcy listened intently. But her heart still clamoured painfully at the thought of him being with other women.

  She forced herself to ask, ‘So, because it felt so empty, you decided it was a better option to marry Farrida? At least you know her family. When did you meet up with her again?’

  ‘We bumped into each other at a function in New York. She reminded me of our families’ hopes that we would marry if we hadn’t met anyone else by the time we reached thirty.’ He shrugged. ‘Well, I was thirty-six and she was thirty-five. She’d had a couple of relationships that hadn’t worked out and she told me she was getting “broody”.’

  He flushed a little under his skin at the phrase.

  ‘It was most unlike her. She’s never been one for sentiment. Time was running out, she said. And, knowing that I was still single and needed an heir, she thought it the ideal solution that we get together.’

  ‘So you agreed that you would get engaged?’

  Zafir’s expression was rueful, but frank. ‘I did. As I’ve already indicated, the agreement was a purely pragmatic one.’

  ‘And then I turned up again.’

  ‘I can only thank the powers that be that you did...especially when I found out that I already have the heir that I longed for.’ He affectionately drew his fingers down her cheekbone.

  ‘But I’m neither suitable nor well-connected, Zafir... What if your family don’t approve of us marrying? What if they suggest you make me your mistress instead?’

  His hand lowered to cup her chin and his dark eyes were unflinchingly possessive. ‘You are most definitely going to be my wife, Darcy...not my mistress.’

  ‘And that’s really what you want, is it?’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Do you honestly need to ask me that? Haven’t I already made my feelings more than clear?’

  She shrugged a shoulder. ‘I’d like to think that everything you’ve told me is true, but after what happened last time I’m understandably wary.’

  ‘Are you saying that you will never trust me again?’

  ‘No. That’s not what I’m saying. But it’s going to take me some time.’

  ‘I cannot say I like that...but I understand. So I will ask you again—do you agree to marry me?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ The slight smile she gave him was fleeting. ‘Seeing as you are my son’s father, and that you intend to honour your responsibilities as far as he’s concerned, I know it makes sense.’

  Zafir’s own smile was wry. ‘Indeed... But you could also endeavour to look a little happier about the prospect. Our son’s life and yours are definitely going to change for the better.’

  ‘I’m sure time will tell,’ Darcy murmured.

  Reaching down to where Zafir had discarded her clothes, she matter-of-factly pulled her dress over her head, balled up her underwear in her hand and wriggled to the end of the bed. Once there, she moved the voile hangings to one side and, testing her ankle, gingerly stood up.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he demanded, his tone sounding irritable.

  ‘I’d like to have a bath... It’s easier than negotiating a shower.’

  ‘Of course.’ His expression visibly relaxed.

  ‘Can you help me to set things up?’

  ‘I will do more than that. I’ll accompany you and make sure you have everything you need. You’re going to need my help, getting in and out of the bath.’

  Knowing that she wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse, she reluctantly nodded. ‘You won’t have to do this for much longer, you know. When my ankle is better I’ll—’

  ‘I know it’s your nature to want to be independent, Darcy, but sometimes...’

  Joining her, he firmly turned her towards him and she gasped. He was shamelessly naked—hadn’t even paused to grab a sheet to wrap around him.

  As his warm breath gently fanned her face he smiled. ‘Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to accept help...yes?’

  * * *

  The next day Zafir went in to his plush office at the bank. Having grabbed some coffee on the way, he sat down at his desk and buzzed Jane Maddox, one of the senior secretaries, to come in. Studying her over the steaming cup as she entered, he straightaway noted that her perfume was a little on the overpowering side.

  You could tell a lot about a woman by the perfume she wore, he mused. It certainly didn’t make him warm to the brunette, even though he’d never found fault in her work. But, more importantly, today he wanted answers to questions that were long overdue.

  ‘Sit down,’ he instructed, indicating the leather chair opposite him at the desk.

  ‘I trust all is well, your Highness?’

  Intent on keeping the secretary on edge, he took his time responding. When he did reply, his tone was deliberately aloof. ‘That rather depends on your answers to my questions, Ms Maddox.’

  Her thin, rather drawn face couldn’t hide her disquiet. ‘May I know the topic of these questions, sir?’

  ‘You may.’

  He bit back the fury that had been simmering inside him since he’d heard that Darcy had tried to contact him many times, to no avail. This woman was in charge of his administration, and if anyone knew what had happened to all Darcy’s messages it was her.

  He let the woman have the full force of his gaze. ‘The topic, Ms Maddox, is Darcy Carrick...’

  * * *

  They were about to be married.

  They were having a simple, dignified ceremony at one of London’s most famous register offices and their two witnesses were Rashid and Darcy’s mother, Patricia, who diligently held their son’s hand.

  As the male celebrant began to lead them through their vows Zafir had had a sense of everything being quite surreal. He’d been crazy about the woman at his side from the very first moment he’d set eyes on her, and knew that his decision to marry her couldn’t be more right. But the fact that they’d originally separated due to what was beginning to look like the most terrible misunderstanding on his part didn’t sit well with him.

  It didn’t sit well at all.

  Especially now Jane Maddox had admitted that she’d made the decision not to pass on any messages from Darcy because she hadn’t wanted to upset him all over again. In her opinion, she’d done him a favour.

  ‘How dare you make such a judgement on my behalf?’ he’d demanded coldly. ‘Just who do you think you are?’

  Zafir was by no means a violent
man, but he didn’t know how he hadn’t immediately throttled her. Instead, he’d had great satisfaction in telling her to collect her things and leave the building, never to set foot in it again.

  With a heartfelt sigh he glanced at Darcy and again was taken aback by her beauty. Not only did she resemble the mythical Aphrodite, goddess of beauty, love and sexual rapture, but she had a beautiful heart too. She hadn’t hesitated to raise their son on her own when she’d been abandoned by him and that told him a lot. Now Zafir aimed to make it up to her in whatever way he could.

  It grieved him deeply that he’d unknowingly turned his back on her when she’d been pregnant with his child. But how could he even have suspected that was the case? How did a man even begin to come to terms with such a thing? He wished that his father still lived. He was the only person who could have helped him with his sage advice...

  When the time came for him to repeat his vows he nearly missed his cue because he was so lost in the tumult of his feelings. He’d missed not having intimate relations with Darcy in the days leading up to the wedding, but she’d explained that she needed some time on her own with Sami.

  Zafir hadn’t been able to argue with her when she’d told him that she wanted to introduce him to the idea of her getting married sensitively, and also to inform both his school and her employers that they would shortly be leaving to start a new life abroad.

  In light of that, Zafir had agreed to abstain from any intimacy until they were married. He was already feeling the strain.

  He’d worked hard to bring the ceremony forward, but it had still been several days before he’d been able to make it happen. In the interim, he had utilised his time wisely. First of all he had rung his mother, to give her the news. Admittedly she had been upset when he’d broken off his engagement to Farrida, but she had been overjoyed when she’d learned he had a son and heir.

  Even though she didn’t know the woman who was the mother of his child, she had agreed that it was the right thing to do to marry her. She knew he wouldn’t have made such a decision if he didn’t care for her. Understandably, she still had a lot of questions, but Zafir assured her that they would all be answered to her satisfaction on his return. He’d also told her that his new family would need some time to adapt to their new situation, and to their royal status, and had asked her not to advertise the fact that he was coming home with them straight away.