The Sheik's Dangerous Temptation

by Mary Jo Springer

  The stench of rotting food and unclean bodies accosted them. Turning his head slightly, he looked over his shoulder at her. Even in the darkness, he saw the determination on her face.

  He caught the faint sound of a woman weeping as they rounded the next bend and started down a long tunnel. The noise became louder as they approached the end. Allison tried to move past him, but he blocked her progress with his hand. They didn’t know where the sound was coming from, and even if it was her mother, they could be heading into a trap.

  He withdrew his scimitar from his belt, the long blade shimmering in the fraction of light leaking in from above. As they continued their approach, he noticed a bloodied woman sitting in a cell, hugging the man who was her cellmate. Clasped in an embrace, they rocked back and forth, sobbing like wounded dogs. His stomach lurched into his throat. This time he couldn’t stop Allison when she scrambled around him and knelt next to the crying older couple. He remained where he was, standing guard. Allison’s mother gave a surprised gasp when she recognized her daughter. Malik watched as all three of them hugged and kissed in the joy of their reunion. He smiled, happy for his wife. His medical team swarmed around the woman, offering their assistance. Malik stationed guards outside the cell, with orders to shoot his uncle on sight.

  Leaving the happy scene, he continued to make his way down the darkened corridor. Using a hand as a guide, he made his way through the aperture in the aged stone. He stumbled over something on the floor and bent to investigate what impeded his progress. On closer inspection, he recognized the object as a human femur bone. Disgust roared through him. Dropping the bone, he continued to make his way deeper into the black hole.

  He had made it about thirty feet when something hard hit him in the back of his head. He went down to his knees, fighting to remain conscious. Then a booted foot slammed into his gut, knocking the wind out of his lungs. But when the dark figure came at him again, he was prepared for the attack. Using his forearm to ward off a blow, he stabbed at the invisible assailant with his scimitar. Hitting his mark, he felt his curved sword glance off bone and heard the painful grunt of the man attacking him.

  He grinned into the darkness.

  “You little bastard.”

  Malik’s smile widened. “Ah, uncle, you know that term fits you more than it does me. My parents were married.”

  Safwan growled like a wounded dog. “Why couldn’t you just die like the rest of your useless family?”

  If Safwan was hoping to throw him off his guard, he’d succeeded. He stiffened his resolve and fired back, “I’m not that easy to kill. Sorry to put a kink in your plans, dear uncle.”

  Malik heard the swish of the sword only seconds before it hit his. The clang of metal on metal was deafening in the blackness. Thankfully, he’d already raised his scimitar in defense, warding off the fatal blow. He liked fighting with his sword. It took a long time for a man to die cutting him to shreds, and he wanted a slow death for his uncle. Wanted him to suffer the maximum pain.

  Using all his skill, Malik parried the thrust, but his uncle was fast. He punched Malik in the face with the metal hilt. The metallic scent of his own blood filled his nostrils seconds before he became aware of the blood flowing into his mouth. Malik came back on guard. Crossing one foot over the other, Malik swung his sword in wide circles before coming in low under Safwan’s defenses, sinking his weapon deep into his uncle’s belly. Malik pulled the sword upward, slicing through the fascia. He’d scored a significant blow, and his lips tilted up in an ugly smile. “That move I learned from my father.”

  Malik sensed Safwan couldn’t last much longer, his blood loss significant. Even in the darkness, he identified the paleness of his uncle’s face.

  Grunts and groans saturated the air as Safwan staggered, pressing his hand against the stone wall. Then, without warning, he lunged at Malik. Side stepping his attack, Malik slammed the hilt of his sword against the back of Safwan’s head, knocking him unconscious. Safwan fell against him. He pushed him off just as his men rushed down the corridor. Torch light flooded the narrow hallway as a worried Nazem bolted toward him, his gun riveted on the motionless Safwan.

  “Is he dead?” Nazem asked.

  “Not yet, but he is gravely injured,” Malik gasped, leaning against the stone wall, winded from the fight. “I kept from killing him because of what you said. If he does by chance survive, I want him to stand trial for the crimes against the royal family in our courts. I want all of Baharah to know him as a traitor and murderer.”

  “Good. That’s the right thing for a leader to do. Let’s get out of here.” Nazem started forward, but Malik’s hand stopped him. “What is the condition of Allison’s parents?”

  “We rescued both of them. They are pretty beat up and in bad condition. They will need urgent medical attention.”

  Without even a backward glance, Malik blurted out, “Then there isn’t a moment to lose, show me to them.”

  They ran through the darkened corridors and when Malik rounded the corner, he saw Allison holding her parents’ hands. Tears ran down her beautiful face. Glancing up, she caught sight of him.

  “Safwan?”

  “In custody.”

  “Thank God. I was so worried . . . I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Malik’s gaze swarmed over her, as protective as ever, warming her to her core. A million-watt smile etched his lips only seconds before he bent to kiss her. Warm, moist flesh molded to warm flesh. Their kiss extended to a full minute before Allison remembered her parents. They stared at her with their mouths hanging open.

  Giving Malik another quick kiss, she turned her attention back to her mother and father. Both were bleeding from multiple small wounds. Malik gently brushed Allison aside and knelt next to them. A moment later, Allison placed his medical bag beside him.

  Allison’s grey-haired mother looked up at him through pain-filled eyes. “Who are you?” she asked, pulling away when Malik tried to take her pulse and assess her condition.

  “I’m a doctor,” he reassured her, but she continued to back off.

  “Mom, you have to let him examine you,” Allison said, kneeling in front of her father and patting his hand.

  “But I don’t know him,” her weak voice insisted.

  “He’s my fiancé.”

  “Your what?” her parents asked in unison.

  “My fiancé. Mom, Dad, this is Malik. Malik, this is Susan and Donald, my parents.”

  Malik smiled at the surprised look on their faces, but said nothing, just continued to render medical treatment until Nazem walked into the cell.

  “Your Highness, we are ready to transport when you are.”

  Allison’s mother straightened from her position on the floor. “Did he say ‘Your Highness’? I thought he was a doctor.”

  The entire group broke into laughter as the stretchers appeared.

  Allison patted her mother’s hand. “Yes, Malik is also the king of Baharah.”

  Her parents stared, dumbfounded. “You’re engaged to a king? What else have we missed?” Her mother inquired, her eyes wide with excitement.

  Malik and Allison exchanged looks before Allison informed them, “We’re having a baby.”

  “Oh, my God!” her parents shouted in unison, their voices taking on the sound of renewed strength and surprise. “We’re finally going to be grandparents.” The entire group laughed as Malik signaled for the stretchers to be lifted and carried out.

  Chapter 14

  The multitude of women attending her assisted her as she stepped into the regal heavily beaded tulle white gown. Miles and miles of tulle shimmered with platinum thread, Matching sequins illuminated the bodice. It was a dress fit for a queen and her hands trembled as they smoothed the satiny material into place. Sunlight glinted off her
engagement ring, forming a rainbow, the large diamond heavy on her finger. From this day forward, she would be linked to Malik, King of Baharah . . . forever. She would be Queen Allison. The thought both excited and unnerved her. What did their future hold? More children? She certainly hoped so. A hand drifted down over the glossy dress and rested on her expanding stomach.

  Today was a new beginning. Malik decided that their wedding would resemble that of a western nation, not only to honor her parents, but to reinforce Baharah’s new modern position in the world.

  Susan picked up the diamond choker Malik had surprised Allison with at dinner the previous night and secured it around the bride’s neck. Her mother turned and smiled at Allison as she bent to pick up the cathedral length white veil which she pinned in place. Next, her mother placed the jeweled headpiece shaped like a crown and studded with emeralds and diamonds which Malik’s mother wore when she had married his father.

  Malik.

  He alone was her hope, her salvation. She trusted and loved him beyond comprehension. She shook her head in disbelief, smiling. In a few short minutes, Malik would finally be her husband.

  When she stepped out onto the terrace, the bright sunlight momentarily blinded her. Donald smiled and took her hand, wrapping her shaky fingers around his forearm.

  Little Lacey walked in front of her, her gown an exact replica of her own with rows and rows of lace. By mutual agreement, they’d adopted her as soon as they returned from the rescue in the desert. Lacey would get her wish; she’d be a bona fide princess.

  Giving her a wink, her father escorted her down the aisle to where her king, the love of her life, stood awaiting her. Her smile widened as she witnessed him rocking back and forth . . . Malik was nervous.

  As the music began to play, she settled her trembling hands and placed one foot in front of the other, inching closer to the man she loved.

  “You are absolutely stunning,” her father whispered in her ear. “Malik is a very lucky man.”

  “Thanks Dad. Your approval means the world to me. And thank you and mom for making this day special. You guys are always there for me. I hope you will be there for Malik and our child, as well.”

  Her father nodded his approval, “He loves you,” he said, as they made their way toward Malik.

  She turned her head and gave her dad a small wink, “Well, the feeling is very mutual.”

  Her father patted her hand. “Make him happy. He deserves a little happiness after the pain of losing his family.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Oh, I intend to make him deliriously happy.”

  Her father released her to Malik, who took over as her escort to the end of the flowery aisle.

  A soft breeze off the ocean ruffled Malik’s raven hair, disheveling it over his brow, and he smoothed it back in place as he glanced over at her. His eyes widened as his gaze roamed over her from head to toe. His lips lifted at the corners into the sexiest smile she’d ever witness. Her heart leapt with joy. Could this day be any more perfect? She was surrounded by the people who loved her. A solitary tear of joy trickled down her cheek. Malik’s thumb swiped it away.

  “You are a vision. I wish my parents were here to see you.”

  She felt a wave of happiness and relief as she stared up at the man who would forever be her love . . . her husband. Oh, how she liked the sound of that. Her husband. Forever hers.

  As the sound of the ocean breaking against the shore and the gulls playfully calling to their mates danced around them, she gripped his hand. Her heart was filled to bursting with love for this exquisite man—her strength, her love. The black Prada tuxedo molded to his beautiful muscular body, framing his assets to perfection. The essential alpha-male—he protected what was his. She was right where she wanted to be . . . right where she felt closest to home. For a moment she faltered, missing a step. He leaned forward, whispering into her ear.

  “Is everything all right? You look a little stunned.”

  For a long moment they stared into each other’s eyes. Then she hooked her hand behind his neck, drew his lips down to her, and kissed him. The world ceased to exist, leaving only her, only him. It was a moment of absolute truth between them, in which all the barriers of ego and fear were gone. Trust settled deep in her gut. She loved him so completely. Loved him and trusted him to protect her and her baby.

  The elder’s quiet cough intervened. “Your Highness, there will be plenty of time for that once the vows have been spoken and sealed.”

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured apologetically.

  Malik leaned down, his lips against her ears, the heat of his breath ruffling her dangling diamond earrings against her face. “I’m not,” he said, a slight grin curving his sensual lips. At the elder’s “humph,” he immediately affected a stoic look—the proper ruler once more. She tightened her grip on his hand, the tension so strong it drew his attention away from the minister and down to her.

  “I can’t wait another moment to make love to you,” she whispered right into his ear.

  His eyes widened in shock. She felt him falter, his rigid stance shifting, as a tremor roared through him.

  “Your timing . . .”

  “This is the perfect place and the perfect time to tell my husband how much I want him. I love you to the depths of my soul.”

  The smile that broke across his face rivaled the warmth of the sun, his sparkling white teeth giving life to a flame of arousal in her core.

  Again, the elder interrupted. “Your Highness, can we proceed?”

  Ignoring him, Malik continued to stare at her. “What’s going on?”

  She gave her head a little shake as she replied, “Nothing, everything is perfect.”

  Turning in unison, they faced the elder once more.

  “Allison?” Malik was addressing her. She’d never tire of the way he spoke her name. The way it rolled off his tongue made it sound exotic, foreign, sending a thrill coursing down into the pit of her stomach. The enchanting spice of his cologne spiraled through her, penetrating her every pore.

  “Allison,” he repeated, snapping her out of her daydreams. Dumbfounded, she stared up at him. “The elder asked you if you want to be my wife. You must answer.” The smile tugging at the corners of his mouth was sexy as hell.

  “Oh—” embarrassment shot through her, “—yes, of course.”

  After all the challenges they’d faced together, their future hinged on one simple word: yes. A word that had rolled so easily off her tongue, a word that would make all her dreams come true.

  He raised her fingers to his lips and pressed a warm kiss against her knuckles. She trembled at the ultra-soft touch.

  “And now, wife, it is time for me to make good on the promise in your eyes. “

  “With pleasure, my lord.”

  He swept her up into his arms, carrying her across the terrace as the elder’s declaration of “I now pronounce you man and wife” rung out behind them.

  Allison couldn’t think of a more glorious day. Only moments ago, they stood as king and queen and recited their vows for all their people to hear. Funny how things turn out sometimes. She hadn’t come to the Arabian Peninsula looking for a fairytale, yet here she was, smack in the most magical tale ever told.

  She was anxious to be alone with her husband. She hadn’t seen him for two days prior to the ceremony, in honor of the Baharah tradition. She wanted him now—wanted to be in his strong arms.

  Wanted to be in his bed.

  As the sun set, she excused herself and moved toward the tent that had been set up on the palace grounds for the wedding night. Slipping inside, she found what she’d been seeking, and quickly changed out of her dress and into the garment. She only had a few minutes before Malik’s arrival, and she wanted to surprise him. When she heard the whisper of the tent flap being pulled aside,
she stepped out of the darkness and into the candlelight. She was wearing the same teal dress she’d worn that night in the desert.

  His eyes rounded in amazement as he recognized the dress.

  “Do you think this dress is spectacular enough to tempt the sheik?”

  His eyes crawled over her, inching their way over every molecule of her body. With his hand cupping his chin, he walked around her, studying her from every angle. “Most definitely.”

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