The Sheikh's Destiny (Harlequin Romance)

by Melissa James

  ‘I won’t let you go, not knowing you live in hiding, never planning beyond your next escape—’ He held her shoulders, his eyes blazing. ‘Come to Abbas al-Din. I’ll buy you a house, and we can…’

  ‘I can’t be your mistress,’ she murmured, broken. ‘It would destroy my family’s good name. I can’t hurt them that way after everything else.’

  ‘You’re the one who’s suffered because of them,’ he snarled. ‘After what they did to you, you care so much?’

  She shivered and moved closer to him, burrowing into him as if the night were cold. ‘I thought I didn’t. I want to hate them, but I can’t. I can’t—I have two sisters and a brother who are innocent of anything against me.’

  Alim’s mind raced like his cars around the circuits. ‘Then we’ll marry here in Africa. We can stay here.’

  ‘No!’ she cried. ‘You can’t renounce your position for me. I’d always be the woman who stole the sheikh from his people—and my family would be humiliated again.’

  ‘So they’re more important to you than what we have?’ he grated out. ‘Or are you just making excuses to leave me? Was the way you kissed me in the car just a sham, a nice goodbye to the infatuated freak?’

  ‘Don’t.’ She pushed at his chest. ‘I’m doing this for you. You know how much I feel for you—but this can’t work. I’m the wrong woman for you!’

  ‘You think any woman of high birth is what’s best for me?’ Finally he released her. ‘You know I married a princess once, right? It was a nightmare. They said she died of a rare form of pneumonia—but the truth is Elira killed herself after the doctors said she couldn’t bear the sons the nation needed from her. She was the perfect wife in public—but unstable, highly emotional in private, always screaming and crying, wanting what I couldn’t give. In three short years she drove me nearly insane, Hana. I won’t marry for reasons of state again.’

  The words were so cold, bitter, she shuddered again. ‘Not all princesses are like that, surely?’ She tried to laugh—but he moved away, his eyes blank. ‘We had a semi-affair of a week’s standing. A few touches, a few kisses, can’t become the love of a lifetime,’ she went on, trying to smile, to be brave for his sake.

  He interrupted her noble sacrifice with words dripping with ice. ‘I’m thirty-seven, not a raw boy. I know what I want. I want you. If you won’t marry me because I’m a sheikh, I won’t be one. Harun’s become an outstanding ruler anyway—the people only want me because I was once famous. If you won’t marry me, I’ll live alone.’

  How could a heart soar and crash at the same time? She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘Sooner or later, you’ll surely find a suitable woman you can…love—’

  ‘Will you?’

  The savage words threw her into confusion. ‘Of course not, I’ve told you I can’t—’

  ‘If he was dead, would you come to me—or would you find someone else? A suitable man—what is that to you?’

  She shivered at his freezing tone. ‘I’d go home,’ she said quietly.

  ‘And find someone else?’ he pushed in a snarl. ‘Would you?’

  She shrugged helplessly. How could she stand another man to touch her after what she’d shared with him? Brief moments, enough to live a lifetime remembering…

  ‘Tell me, Hana. Say the words just once.’

  A raw command filled with all the betrayed hurt he wasn’t ashamed to show her. She gulped and looked at the floor. ‘I shouldn’t.’

  ‘Hana, it’s all I’m asking of you—well, all I’m asking it seems you can give me,’ he amended, with such painful honesty her heart melted. ‘You made no vows to Mukhtar, so you won’t betray your father; but only tell me if it’s the truth—if your kisses were real, if your desire for me was true. If it wasn’t, just walk out now and you’ll never see me again.’

  Alim was right: the vows made hadn’t been her vows; she hadn’t made them. Alim’s pain melted her wavering resolution. Why not tell him how she felt, just one time?

  She couldn’t look at him as she said words she’d never said to any man. ‘I love you,’ she said softly, and joy so poignant it hurt her soul spread through her, shining from within. Then she looked up into his eyes, glowing with bliss stronger, more lovely and heartbreaking for its being only for tonight. ‘I love you, Alim, I love you.’

  His eyes were full of anguished love. How well he knew her; he knew she was saying goodbye. ‘I love you, Hana.’ He pulled her into his arms, and all that was cold and dead in her came to beautiful life. ‘I love you.’ And he kissed her.

  Shouldn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t all went out the window as she threw her arms around him and deepened the kiss to beautiful, pure passion that sent dark memories of Mukhtar’s one attempt to arouse her spinning to the mental garbage. This didn’t make her feel shamed or dirty, because it was Alim…

  She felt him removing the rest of the burq’a to reveal her plain cotton skirt, rose-hued shirt and sandals as she wound a hand into his hair, the other holding him tight at his waist. She loosened his shirt and slid her hand beneath, palms and fingers drinking in the man she loved. ‘Ah,’ she cried as his mouth trailed over her jaw, her ear, shivering with a primal force growing with each time they touched. ‘Alim, say it one more time, call me your star.’

  ‘I love you, Sahar Thurayya,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘My bright, beautiful dawn star, you lit me up when I was hiding in the darkness, you made me a man again.’

  Clinging to him, whispering clumsy words to him of her love, she felt the change begin, her joy fail. Their love was like the dawn star he’d compared her to: seen for a brief, shining moment, lighting her life like the morning sky, but it was impossible to hold within her hands. She was a beggar maid to his king, a gutter snipe to his poet. This wasn’t real love; it was gratitude for saving him, she knew that…but that he even thought he loved her now was her life’s private treasure. It had to be enough, because it was all she could have.

  ‘I have to go,’ she muttered as his kisses grew so frantic she knew it was now or never—and for his sake it had to be never.

  ‘Stay with me tonight,’ he murmured against her throat, hot, rough, demanding.

  She shivered again, fighting temptation with all she had. ‘I can’t,’ she whispered, feeling a jolt of pain rush through her as she took her hands from him. ‘Please don’t,’ she cut in when he began to speak. ‘It will only make things worse.’

  She had to cut the connection while there was a chance he’d get over it. He had to produce heirs for the sake of his nation—and she wasn’t kidding herself that he’d love her for ever. She knew she wasn’t unforgettable by the way Latif had left her life at a speed faster than Alim could create in his best Formula One car.

  The passion died in his eyes, but the love, the care for her, grew stronger. ‘If he finds you, Hana…do you want that to be your first time? Or will he do worse to you to protect himself?’

  She wheeled away. If he knew what she believed Mukhtar would do to her, no force on earth would stop him from trying to protect her from him. ‘I’ll be fine. I promise.’

  ‘You can’t promise. In the Russian-roulette life you live, there’ll always be another Mukhtar, another Sh’ellah.’ His voice was harsh, but not aimed at her. ‘Come back with me to Abbas al-Din. I swear you’ll be happy—and I couldn’t be otherwise if you’re near me.’

  The lure of happiness pulled at her heart and soul, poor, helpless fish—but the hook he dangled with the lure was a killer. ‘I’ll be fine. I survived twenty-six years before I met you—’ she forced the teasing twinkle into her eyes ‘—I’m fairly sure I can stumble through the days, aft…’ The words dried up, and she closed her eyes. She couldn’t say it. After you’re gone.

  ‘For thirty-seven years I tried everything the world could offer, education, travel, excitement—and my heart wasn’t in anything, Hana. Then I met you and it was as if I crammed an entire lifetime into a few days. Strangers’ souls entwined for ever, my star. What we feel
is for life, whether you believe it now or not.’ He turned her back to him, caressing her arms as he looked into her eyes. ‘This isn’t over. I won’t let it be over. I won’t let you hide from me.’

  She blinked hard, but the tears welled up faster than she could control them. ‘It has to be over. Please don’t ask me again.’ She hiccupped on the last word.

  His thumbs brushed her cheeks; his mouth followed, kissing her tears away, and more fell. ‘I mean it, Hana. This isn’t over. I’ll find a way for us. You have my heart, my wise, cheeky star, you bring light and love to my life. I refuse to endure life without you.’ He smiled down at her, as strong as he was tender, and another hiccup escaped her, a half-controlled sob of loss. His arms enfolded her. She snuggled in, trying to catch her breath, to stop her throat hurting so badly.

  ‘You’re tired. I’ll call Yandi to take you to your accommodation,’ he murmured, after a long time had passed, and the music on the CD player had faltered to silence.

  She nodded against his shoulder. Alim helped her back into her burq’a, her old friend and shield that had begun to feel like her enemy, symbolising all she was leaving behind. Again.

  When Yandi was waiting outside the house for her, Alim held the door open, and she almost ran through it. At the top stair of the wide balcony leading to the night-flooded beach, she turned for a moment. Taking her last look at him.

  ‘It’s not over. I’ll find a way for us,’ he said, low and intense.

  She shook her head. ‘Go home. Be the man you were always meant to become. And—and be happy, Alim. I need you to be happy.’

  She fled down the stairs before she could do something stupid, like tell him she’d changed her mind, she’d do anything to be with him another day. Another moment.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The next afternoon

  THE female UN delegate looked directly at Hana. Alim could see she wanted to squirm every time one of them paid attention to her. She’d sat through the interview for three hours in silence unless someone asked her something directly. ‘Hana, you did a brave thing in saving Sheikh El-Kanar. If you ever need help with anything, please call me.’ She handed her a card.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said yet again, and rose. The need to get away, to hide once again was so strong on her face, he wondered if they could all see it. ‘I’ll leave you all now.’

  With ten long strides he caught up to her in the doorway. ‘Hana.’

  She gave a silent, mirthless laugh as she turned at the outside door. ‘I don’t know if I’d have been more disappointed or relieved if you hadn’t followed me.’

  ‘I told you we’re not over,’ he said, gently pushing her outside the door, closing it behind him. The sun shone brightly on them both; the warm breeze caressed them.

  ‘Please stop,’ she whispered with an anguished glance around, to see who watched. ‘We can’t do this, Alim, you know we can’t.’

  His eyes blazed, but he spoke gently. ‘I made a few calls last night. There are things you need to know.’ He pulled a thick roll of paper from his jacket without ceremony.

  Her gaze lifted, searched his for a moment. Slowly she took the paper from his hand.

  ‘I hereby find the marriage ceremony between Mukhtar Said and Hana al-Sud, signed by Malik al-Sud on behalf of his daughter Hana al-Sud, to be illegal according to Amendment 1904 of the year 2001 by The Supreme Ruler of beloved Memory, Sheikh Fadi El-Kanar, and therefore declare the marriage to be void. Signed, Mahet Raad, Supreme Justice of the nation of Abbas al-Din.’

  She read the document aloud in Gulf Arabic in a dazed voice. Eyes glazed with shock stared into his. ‘The marriage is void? But how…Alim, I told you—my family…?’

  ‘I found Mukhtar,’ he replied grimly. ‘He was persuaded to give me a written confession to his lies, and the deception he practised on your father and the imam. He’d forged your signature on a betrothal agreement, so they’d believe the marriage was legal.’ He held out a second piece of paper, Mukhtar’s confession. He didn’t tell her about Latif’s heartfelt apologies. He didn’t want any ghosts between them.

  When she finished reading the second paper, her hand lifted unsteadily to her forehead. ‘Alim…I’m free?’

  Her other hand reached out to him. He took it in his, again feeling the inexplicable sense of homecoming. ‘You’re free, Sahar Thurayya. Free to do whatever you wish.’

  Her eyes darkened; she shook her head. ‘But…my family? Do they know?’

  ‘They know,’ he said grimly. ‘They’re waiting to see you. You’re coming to Abbas al-Din with me—’ he checked his watch ‘—in five hours.’

  Her hand gripped his, her eyes dazed. ‘What? I—I didn’t hear you…’ She swayed.

  Alim cursed himself, and scooped her into his arms. ‘Too many shocks in a few minutes.’ He opened the door and, without looking to see if the assemblage of people inside his house watched them, he carried her into a spare room, laying her down on the bed. He removed the veil that was her shield, her protection against the world, and caressed her cheek. ‘I took your strength for granted, my star. Rest here until it’s time to go.’

  Eyes huge with uncertainty stared up at him. ‘What did you say before?’

  She really hadn’t heard him. He sat on a chair by the bed, taking her hand in his. ‘I got all the information within hours—Mukhtar’s escape plan failed when you left, and he ended up in prison. He was persuaded to tell the truth in exchange for a transfer to a lower-security facility.’ He didn’t mention the hours of haggling negotiation with Mukhtar’s lawyer as Mukhtar tried to gain freedom in exchange for his confession. Instead he moved to the point he knew really interested her. ‘I talked to your father last night, Hana. They’re in Abbas al-Din now, visiting your sister. They know you told them the truth. Any more is their story to tell—but they want to see you. We fly out in five hours.’

  A shiver raced through her. She looked anything but happy. Slowly she shook her head. ‘No.’ The word quivered, but sounded final.

  ‘No to what?’ he asked, frowning. His mind was sieving through mud right now after a sleepless night arranging for Hana’s freedom.

  ‘No to everything.’ She turned her face from him. ‘I need to go.’

  ‘No, damn it, you don’t. You’re not running away again, Hana. I won’t let you play the coward,’ Alim snarled, losing it without warning—and she stared up at him, her eyes huge, and filled with the strangest mixture of uncertainty, stubbornness…and intrigue.

  Exultation shot through him. She wanted to say yes, he could feel it—and she was responding to his fury with interest instead of in mockery. Hana would never accept orders—unless she trusted him, wanted and loved him enough to hope there could be a future for them…

  But one thing was painfully obvious to him: if she was thinking of a life together, she wasn’t ready to admit it. He’d known that last night even as she’d said I love you. She might want a future with him, but she didn’t believe in it. But if she came to Abbas al-Din with him, he was hoping to show her that, again, her deepest fear was over. It existed only now in her mind, like the monster in her childhood cupboard.

  ‘You’ve faced and passed the hardest tests on earth the past five years—so why are you being such a coward now?’ He purposely kept his voice hard. ‘You’re free of Mukhtar, free of the chains holding you. Your family made the wrong decision, and yes, they hurt you—but you love them. It’s time to stop running from them. It’s time you forgave them.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ she muttered, a frown between her brows.

  ‘You say that to me?’ He laughed in her face, pushing her away to bring her closer. ‘Do you have any idea how hard it was to face Harun, knowing what I’ve put him through in the past three years? Yet he paid my ransom without thinking twice, and came to meet me the hour I was released.’ He lifted her chin. ‘At least your family deserved your distrust. I deserved for him to let me die at Sh’ellah’s hand.’

  Her lashes flutter
ed down, reminding him of the hour they’d met—it was the only time she’d hidden her real self from him. Secrets, yes, but never had she hidden the person she was. ‘I’m not ready for this.’

  ‘You think I was ready to face Harun? Yet I was the one at fault, needing his forgiveness,’ he demanded, his caressing finger beneath her chin at odds with his uncompromising tone. ‘So tell me, Hana—when will you be ready to forgive them? Would you like to pick a day when you’ll finally feel brave enough to do the right thing?’

  ‘When would you have been ready, if the circumstances hadn’t forced you into it?’ Her cheeks blazed with colour; her lashes lifted to reveal eyes as aroused as they were furious.

  She was consumed with desire, because of a simple movement of his finger, and a plan flashed into his mind.

  Acting on it, he laughed in her face. ‘What circumstances? You mean that I chose to save your life and risk my own for you? Or do you mean that I announced my name and offered a ransom so you could get away safely? Are they the circumstances that forced me?’

  Her mouth set in a stubborn line.

  He shrugged. ‘I’m calling your bluff, Hana. Come back with me, or I tell your family how you’ve been risking your life for five years rather than face them—and then I’ll send them to you. You know I can,’ he growled as she stared up at him in mingled desire, fury and resentment. ‘This is going to happen, so accept it and move on.’ Before she could argue he bent and kissed her, deep and hard, gathering her close. He wasn’t above using any means possible to convince her to come with him. She needed reconciliation with her family as much as he’d needed to face Harun and apologise for the nightmare he’d created of his brother’s life by disappearing.

  Half expecting a rebuff, or for her to lie stiff and cold beneath him, he felt jubilation soar when she moaned and wound her arms around his neck, meeting his passion with blazing flame. She arched against his body, moving in delicious friction, her hands in his hair, caressing him with ardent eagerness. Oh, how she wanted him! All her slumbering fire belonged to him—and he’d do almost anything to keep it that way for the rest of their lives.