by Opal Carew
Debt of Honor
Opal Carew
Held captive by a domineering sheikh…
…and made to pay for a crime she did not commit
Angelica couldn't believe that hopping off a plane during a refueling stop to search for one-of-a-kind souvenirs could lead to so much trouble. Now she is detained in an exotic country by a devastatingly handsome sheikh... and ends up in his harem.
Caution: Includes a little f/f, lots of hot m/f and a heart thumping, romantic, sexual adventure you won't soon forget!
Praise for Debt of Honor
5 Stars!
"Ms. Carew wrote a story that steams off the pages and when you add minor touches of BDSM it smokes."
Jo, Joyfully Reviewed
4 Clovers!
Lee M, CK2S Kwips and Kritiques
4 Hearts!
Valerie, Love Romances and More
Debt of Honor
Published by Opal Carew at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 Opal Carew
Previously published in 2006 as part of the Phoenix Rising II anthology.
Discover more books by Opal Carew at her website
www.OpalCarew.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First Opal Carew edition: May 2012
www.OpalCarew.com
Debt of Honor
Opal Carew
Dedication
To Mark,
Matthew and Jason
Chapter One
Angelica couldn't believe that hopping off a plane during a refueling stop to search for one-of-a-kind souvenirs could lead to so much trouble.
She sat staring at the glossy mahogany desktop in front of her, wishing she still wore the light, cotton sundress she'd donned this morning. The unaccustomed heat pressed down on her like a heavy blanket, smothering her last few ounces of energy. She scooped up her long hair so the breeze from the overhead fan would cool her neck. The small relief it gave seemed an intense pleasure compared to the rest of this dreadful day, and she closed her eyes to savor it. This long, robe thing she'd been forced to wear covered too much of her, as far as she was concerned. She'd undone the top few buttons, but perspiration glazed her back and dripped down between her breasts.
Why hadn't she stayed on that darned plane?
She heard the door behind her open, and then close with a firm thump. Despite her curiosity, she sat still in the stiff, wooden chair, determined not to glance around.
Who was it this time? Hopefully, not those two goons who had dragged her here. She had explained to them that she'd done nothing wrong, that in fact, she'd been the victim of a robbery, but they'd barely understood a word she'd said or they'd chosen not to. She couldn't be sure.
They'd kept her sitting here for at least two hours, with no regard to her comfort. Right now, she should be safely aboard her homeward bound flight to Toronto. Asleep.
The newcomer's presence seeped through the room, filling her with tension. As the seconds drifted by, curiosity overwhelmed her.
She twisted around to look.
The man who stared back at her was the most sinfully gorgeous man she'd ever seen. Raw masculinity emanated from his tall, muscular body. His dark hair flowed to his broad shoulder in waves, accentuating his square jaw, softened by full, yet masculine lips.
He had the most stunning eyes. Intense. Dark. Penetrating.
And intimidating.
His gaze swept over her, making a few stops along the way. On the open buttons down the front, making her intensely conscious of the fact that, at the angle he saw her, the swell of her right breast was visible. On the sash she'd added to cinch this loose, frumpy robe at the waist. On her crossed legs. She had pulled the robe up to her knees in an attempt to cool off, knowing she revealed less leg than she had in her sundress, yet suddenly she felt shamelessly brazen.
Finally, his gaze pivoted to her face. The intensity of it disturbed her.
He strode across the room and settled behind the desk, laying a manila folder in front of him.
"Who are you? And why am I here?" she demanded.
"I am Kadin and I am the one who will ask questions."
His voice was quiet, but filled with authority. The fact that he spoke English sent a wave of relief through her, followed immediately by frustration. She had a dozen or more questions to ask. She'd already missed her flight out of here, and her wallet, passport, and luggage had been stolen. She still had her purse, at least, she had until they'd brought her here and confiscated it, but she had no money.
Where would she stay tonight? How would she buy a ticket to get another flight home? And if she succeeded in getting a ticket, how would she get across the border without a passport?
Her frustration turned quickly to anger. "Look, I was dragged here against my will and I demand that—
"Silence." His eyes flared to a fiery black. "After what you have done, you have no right to demand anything."
"What I've done?" she shot back, ignoring the chill rushing down her spine at his intimidating tone. "I haven't done anything. You don't seem to understand—"
"I understand very well." His sharp glare fixed on her as he extended his arm toward her.
A large green pendant on a gold chain hung from his hand. An emerald. Actually, the largest emerald she'd ever seen. She reached out to touch it, but he snatched it into his fist.
"This is Dhiya's. As are the clothes you wear now," he stated flatly.
Her eyes widened. "So you know who robbed me." Relief washed through her. "I guess that means you've caught her. Great. I'd really like to get my things and ..."
His dark eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Don't play me for a fool. Why was my beloved Dhiya's pendant in your purse? Why was she seen boarding a plane wearing your clothes, traveling on your ticket, using your passport?"
Her jaw tightened. She didn't like the sound of this. This situation looked like trouble with a capital 'T.' She had to straighten this guy out right now.
"I already explained to the other men that I went into the washroom and this woman—"
He slammed his fist on the desk, the sharp sound reverberating through the room like a gunshot.
"Silence!"
She gulped back the rest of her explanation and stared at him. Quietly.
"That's better. Now, you will listen."
He stepped from behind the desk and paced, his hands folded behind his back. His white robes billowed as he strode back and forth.
"As I see it, there are two possibilities. One, you were involved in kidnapping Dhiya and transporting her out of the country. Two, you helped Dhiya at her request, taking her necklace as payment. Either way, you are in grave trouble. Both are an insult to me and my family."
She shook her head in disbelief, knowing she had to set him straight.
"She robbed me at gunpoint."
"Dhiya would never touch a gun."
"But—"
"—if you were a man, there would be many options open to me to exact justice."
He sat on the edge of his desk facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.
Her heart hammered loudly and the muscles in her chest tightened painfully. Just what did he intend to do to her? She'd heard of officials in these small countries throwing people into prison for years because of some inadvertent transgression. She pictured herself stuck in a grimy jail cell, sharing scraps of food with rats.
"But I cannot bring myself to be so harsh with a woman." He watched her with those coal-black eyes.
She let out a sigh of relief. She'd never wanted to use her gender as an advantage, but right now, she had no such qualms.
"What …?" Her voice came out choked, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "What do you intend to do with me?"
He stared at her for a long moment and his gaze slipped past her chin to her chest. She raised her hand to toy with the top button of the robe, at least the top button that was still fastened.
A drop of perspiration glided slowly down her neck. Like a breath of fire grazing her skin, his gaze seared her as he followed the progress of the drop as it forged a path down her chest, then disappeared between her breasts. He lingered on the swell of flesh peeking from the deep neckline. He might as well have been caressing her breasts physically for the affect he was having on her. Her nipples pebbled, hardening and peaking against the thin fabric.
Awareness shimmered through her, of his overwhelming masculinity, and of just how vulnerable she was.
His gaze shifted to her face.
"To repay the debt of dishonor, you will serve me."
"What do you mean 'serve you'? "
"You will warm my bed. Tonight, and for as many nights as I see fit."
She blinked at him.
"I … beg your pardon?"
"You may well do, but I will not pardon you. You have wronged me and you will pay with the only currency you have as a woman. Your body."
Her stomach clenched painfully and her hands started to shake. Oh, God. This couldn't really be happening.
"You can't mean …"
His hot gaze told her otherwise.
"But that's barbaric." Yet the thought of this man dragging her into his arms, his mouth devouring hers, sent shivers of excitement through her.
"Insults will not better your position."
"How long do you intend to … keep me here?"
"When Dhiya returns, I will have answers. If you merely helped her, then I will consider your debt of dishonor repaid and I will let you go. If it turns out you were involved in kidnapping her, then your situation will change, for the worse."
"And if she doesn't return?"
His expression turned dangerous.
"You had better hope that she does," he growled.
She bolted to her feet, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
"You don't seem to understand. I'm the victim here."
"Silence."
Obviously, he wasn't going to listen. Fear sliced through her, colliding with anger at the unfairness of it all. There had to be some way to straighten out this whole mess.
She glared at him.
"This is ridiculous. I have rights. I demand to see the Canadian ambassador at once," she said with as much authority as she could muster.
She stomped across the room toward the exit and flung open the door. Two very large, very scary looking guards turned and stared at her. Their expressions dared her to try and leave. She took one step forward and they tensed. She glanced at the long swords settled in scabbards at their waists. Of course, they wouldn't even need to unsheathe those things. All they'd have to do is pick her up bodily and put her where they wanted her.
"They won't let you leave unless I allow it."
She turned to face the man at the desk.
"And I will not allow you to leave my house, or my country, until you have paid your debt."
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
Chapter Two
He stepped toward her and she froze.
Did he mean to take her now? Here? With each step he took forward, her heartbeat accelerated. Pounding in her ears. Demanding that she flee. She had to fight the overwhelming impulse.
She sucked in a deep breath, and planted her feet firmly on the floor, refusing to run. Even if she wanted to, there was nowhere to go.
She was intensely conscious of the distance between them diminishing. When he stood within arm's reach, he wrapped his long, and very strong, fingers around her arm, below the elbow.
Her stomach clenched. Oh, God, she wasn't ready for this.
His gaze locked with hers and he drew her toward him. Her heart flailed like a caged animal crazed with fear and she couldn't seem to draw in any air. He reached out with his other arm. She stiffened, expecting his hand to clamp around her, to pull her against his body, but he didn't.
He pushed on the large wooden door behind her. It closed with a click, then he tugged her back to her chair. Her legs had gone rubbery, so she had no choice but to sink into it.
He stepped to his desk and pressed a button. A moment later, two women came into the room. They inclined their heads in his direction and he spoke to them in a language she didn't understand. The women stepped toward her and linked their arms with hers. She tried to pull away but failed. They seemed quite adept at this.
"Go with them. I will see you at dinner."
She let out a sigh of relief. A reprieve.
The women led her through high-ceilinged, marble hallways, up a wide curved stairway, down several more hallways, then through an arched doorway.
Before her stood a luxurious room with a large four poster bed in rich, burgundy wood, and light-weight, sapphire-blue silk bedding. A sitting area, composed of two plush, jade and blue paisley loveseats with a low, round wooden table between them, filled one end of the room near a large doorway leading to a balcony. Sunlight filled the room.
The women guided her across the room then through another doorway where she saw a large, sunken, marble bathtub. One woman ran water into the tub and the other gestured for Angelica to take off her clothes.
She'd been traveling for ten hours. Her feet hurt. She felt hot and sticky, and she desperately wanted to get out of this cumbersome robe. A bath would be wonderful, but she refused to do it with an audience.
She pointed at the door and made shooing motions to give them the idea she wanted them to leave, but they shook their heads. Finally, she crossed her arms over her chest in a stubborn stance and glared at them. They must have gotten the idea, because they reluctantly stepped toward the door.
Once they were gone, Angelica returned to the bedroom and glanced around. She stepped to the door and tried to open it. Locked.
She sighed. They could walk in at any time, but at least they had given her some space. She stripped off the cotton robe, which clung to her damp body, then peeled off her white lace bra and panties and laid them on the bed. A moment later, she dipped her toe in the tub. The water was slightly warm, which was perfect. She stepped in and sank into the water. She sighed and leaned back, allowing the water to sooth and rejuvenate her body. Her eyes closed and she began to relax, until thoughts of the tall, sexy man with the coal black eyes, who'd introduced himself only as Kadin, tumbled through her mind.
Did he really expect her to willingly give herself to him? Would he force her when she refused? Fear welled up inside her, yet at the same time, excitement thrummed through her. The man might be arrogant and intimidating, but his dangerously sexy good-looks combined with the overwhelming sense of power emanating from him played havoc with her hormones. Just thinking about him kissing her, touching her, took her breath away.
She sat up and reached for an oval bar of soap from a brass soap dish at the side of the tub. As she rubbed it between her hands, it lathered, filling the air with the sweet scent of jasmine. She massaged the smooth bar over her shoulders, then along her arms. The velvety lather felt good against her skin. She ran the soap over one breast, then the other
. Thoughts of Kadin shimmered through her.
Her eyelids closed as she moved the bar around and around the smooth flesh of her breast, imaging Kadin's hands caressing her. Curling around her nipples, stroking them. The bar, like his imaginary hands, stroked down her chest, then slid over her curls.
A sound from the other room startled her. She released the soap and sat up, staring at the doorway. She heard female voices murmuring, then the door close. Then silence.
Angelica grabbed a small bottle of shampoo from a basket of toiletries beside the soup dish and washed her hair. The same jasmine scent as the soap wafted around her.
A few moments later, she stepped out of the tub and dried off with one of the large, cream, plush towels, then wrapped it around her body, tucking the corner between her breasts. She towel-dried her hair, then combed it in front of the oval mirror on the wall. When she returned to the bedroom, she noticed with a start that her clothes were gone. All that was left was a silk robe, which she quickly slipped into, dropping the damp towel.
A tall pitcher full of ice and what looked like lemonade stood on the low table. A small stemmed goblet stood beside it, already full and waiting for her. The glass dripped with condensation and Angelica's mouth watered at the thought of the cold liquid moistening her throat. She picked up the goblet and sipped, enjoying the tartness of the lemon. A few moments later, she decided to lie down, suddenly sleepy. Not surprising, after the day she'd had. A short nap would be a good idea. She closed her eyes and consciousness drifted away.
* * *
Angelica heard quiet murmurs and felt soft hands on her body. Her eyes slowly opened as she felt her arms being raised and she realized two women were sliding a bra over her shoulders. She found it difficult to push back the blanket of sleep. Lethargy weighed heavily in the stifling heat. Sunlight no longer shone in the window and long shadows filled the room in the dim twilight. A third woman wrapped something around her hips. She felt hands all around her, fastening and adjusting. She pushed herself up off the bed and past the women, then shifted out of their reach, backing away from them.
