Hidden In the Sheikh's Harem

by Michelle Conder

  Sweeping yet another glance around the room, she mentally checked off twenty-five tables, each adorned with a glittering crystal tree centrepiece. The overall effect was like a winter forest, with white and blue lighting completing the wintry theme. Her bride, a famous opera singer, had expressly forbidden any real flower arrangements on the tables. She had instead ordered hundreds of spherical arrangements of fresh white and pink roses, to be suspended from the ceiling in intricately symmetrical clusters.

  Dara counted across the floating flower bombs—as she had so lovingly named them. She got as far as the third row before she noticed the problem.

  She sighed. ‘They’ve doubled up on the colours.’

  Mia’s head snapped up. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Right over here.’

  She walked down the marble staircase, the click of her heels echoing on the hard surface. She came to a stop underneath the offending decoration. It wasn’t a major issue, but it was damned irritating now she’d noticed it. Mia’s quiet voice came from behind her.

  ‘Should I fetch one of the guys from the ceremony room?’

  Dara shook her head. ‘The wedding is due to start in two hours—the ceremony room is priority.’ She smoothed down the front of her sleek red pencil skirt, trying to focus on everything but the mismatched flowers above her. Her eyes drifted upwards again.

  Mia laughed. ‘I’ll go and get somebody.’

  She disappeared out through the door, leaving Dara alone in the glittering winter ballroom.

  The rest of the room was perfect. Her team was talented, and very capable of doing most of the work unchaperoned. She could pick and choose which events to attend, leaving her plenty of time to travel with her jet-setting husband. But it had been three weeks since she and Leo had been together—his newest business expansion into Asia had kept him away much longer than usual.

  The restlessness that had plagued her over the past months seemed to have intensified in the absence of her husband. Three weeks was the longest they had spent apart. She was unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong—or perhaps something was about to go wrong.

  Their joint venture into charity work in Sicily kept her busy. The Valente Foundation was doing fantastic work in some of the most disadvantaged areas on the island. And with Christmas fast approaching there was lots of volunteer work to do. But, as busy as she kept herself, something still kept her wide awake at night and staring at the ceiling.

  Making a snap decision, she grabbed a ladder from nearby and set it up, removing her heels in the process. She didn’t need to stand here waiting for a big strong man to fix the problem. There was no reason why she couldn’t do it herself.

  She quickly reached the top, keeping both hands in front of her on the cold metal for balance. It was true: if you wanted a job done well, sometimes you had to do it yourself. She focused on the arrangement, unhooking it from its place and lowering it down. It was heavier than she had expected, and she gasped as the world unexpectedly tilted on its axis.

  ‘Dio, what is it with you and ladders?’ a deep voice shouted from below her as the ladder suddenly righted itself and she was entirely vertical again.

  ‘Leo.’ Her heart gave a sharp thump.

  Her husband was looking up at her, his hands holding the metal ladder steady. Dara dropped the flower arrangement and cursed.

  ‘It’s nice to see you still haven’t lost your love of daring stunts, carina.’

  Dara descended the ladder as quickly as she could manage and practically fell into her husband’s arms. The familiar smell of him surrounded her, making her sigh involuntarily.

  ‘Surprise...’ he whispered huskily against her neck.

  His permanent five o’clock shadow brushed against her skin and she shivered. Oh, how she had missed those shivers.

  ‘You’re a week early.’ She pulled back in his arms.

  He smirked. ‘I like to be unpredictable.’

  She loved it when he smiled like that, filled with mischief. Life was too serious without Leo around.

  ‘I’ve got a surprise planned. Do you think you can manage a few days away from your work?’

  ‘Right now? Leo, that sounds wonderful, but I’m needed here.’

  Dara made a noise of protest, only to have him silence her with a finger against her lips.

  ‘Do you remember your wedding vows, Signora Valente?’

  Dara remembered their wedding day as if it had been yesterday. She had originally planned a simple ceremony on the beach in the Caribbean. But then they’d both realised there was only one place they could imagine becoming man and wife, attended by a few select family and friends: the castello, which had become the setting for the most romantic day of her life.

  ‘We both agreed to remove that medieval part about obeying one’s husband from our vows.’ She raised a brow.

  ‘I’m talking about the part where we promised to spend each and every day loving each other.’ His gaze darkened as his hand drifted lower on her back. ‘And it seems I’ve got about twenty-two days of loving to make up for.’

  His mouth lowered to hers and captured it in a scorching kiss full of dark, sensual promise.

  A muted cough interrupted them from their interlude. Mia, accompanied by one of the movers, stood awkwardly at the top of the stairs. Dara stood back from their sensual embrace, her cheeks flaming.

  ‘Nice to see you home safe, Mr Valente,’ Mia said and blushed. ‘Shall I book you both into the restaurant for lunch?’

  ‘I’ve come to steal my wife away, I’m afraid.’

  Dara placed a hand against her chest, straightening her blazer as casually as she could manage under the scrutiny of her staff. ‘Leo, I can’t just leave two hours before an event—’

  ‘Actually, you can,’ Mia interrupted, blushing even more as both Leo and Dara turned to face her. ‘What I mean is, Dara, you’ve been working so hard... What’s the point in being the boss if you can’t take some time off? The rest of the team can see this through perfectly well.’

  Leo moved forward, grabbing Dara’s shoes from the floor. ‘Mia, you are the voice of reason.’

  Dara shook her head, smiling. ‘This is crazy. I have a million things I should be doing.’

  ‘That’s what makes stealing you away so much fun.’ He winked, pulling her by the hand. ‘Mia, you are only to call my wife if there is a fire or some other catastrophic event.’

  ‘Understood, sir.’ The assistant saluted, giggling uncontrollably as Leo commandeered his speechless wife from the room in her bare feet.

  * * *

  ‘Is the blindfold really necessary?’ Dara asked, feeling for Leo’s hand in the close confines of his sleek sports car.

  ‘Necessary? Perhaps not,’ Leo’s voice purred silkily somewhere next to her ear. ‘But it adds to my enjoyment.’

  Dara reached out, her hand coming into contact with his arm: a band of hard muscle covered in the rich silk of his dark shirt. ‘Well, in two years of marriage you’ve never mentioned this particular fantasy.’

  Dara’s breath whooshed out of her lungs as a warm hand settled possessively upon her inner thigh. It had been weeks since she’d felt her husband’s hands on her body, and the sensation was just as addictive as she remembered.

  ‘I’ve never been one for power plays, but I must say I am enjoying the effect so far,’ he murmured seductively.

  ‘I’m open to the blindfold, but I’m drawing the line at handcuffs,’ she replied, focusing on the agonising slowness of his fingers as they progressed towards the hem of her skirt.

  ‘We’re hot enough in the bedroom without adding props, carina,’ he rasped, gripping her thigh and squeezing gently. ‘And I’m liable to stop this car on the side of the road if you don’t stop making those delicious little noises.’

 
Dara smiled to herself, hearing his laboured breathing. ‘I’ll behave myself if it means avoiding an accident. Still, I’m not opposed to you being so out of control.’

  He chuckled. ‘I’ll make note of that.’

  Less than fifteen minutes later the car had moved off the motorway and onto rougher terrain. She had expected him to take her to the private airfield where they normally housed the jet, but he wouldn’t have needed to blindfold her for that. The past Christmases of their relationship had been spent travelling abroad. Sipping champagne at the top of the Eiffel Tower...exploring deserted beaches in Bali. She wondered what on earth he had planned this year. Curiosity made her stomach jolt with excitement as she felt the car suddenly pull to a smooth stop.

  Leo jumped out from the car, ordering her to wait as he opened her door and helped her out into the crisp night air. He gently removed the blindfold, allowing Dara a moment as her eyes adjusted to her surroundings.

  She looked up at the familiar facade of Castello Bellamo and felt her breath catch. Thousands of tiny twinkling fairy lights adorned the steps to the double doors. The entrance glowed as though lit up by some kind of magical force.

  ‘The real surprise is inside.’ Leo took her by the hand and led her up the steps and through the open doors into the grand hallway.

  The castello had always been a magical place to her, with its vaulted ceilings and mysterious corridors. But now it simply took her breath away. Thick garlands of flowers adorned each side of the staircase, and tiny ornamental elves sat on a side table surrounded by candlelight. The light from the chandelier above had been left dimmed for maximum effect, and she could see a warm glow emanating from the doorway leading into the front sitting room.

  ‘Leo, the place looks like something from a fairy tale.’ She sighed, wandering through the archway. Her breath caught as she took in the enormous Christmas tree that dominated the room. The tree had to be at least nine feet tall, and was perfectly decorated in an array of red and gold. ‘Did you do this all by yourself?’ she asked, still stunned by all the effort he’d gone to.

  ‘I had some help,’ he admitted. ‘I remembered you spoke about how much you loved the traditional family Christmases you had as a child.’ Moving his weight onto one foot, he leaned against the archway and watched her. ‘Do you like it?’

  Dara turned to him, feeling tears well up in her eyes as she realised that her powerful jet-setting husband was actually nervous.

  ‘Leo, this is so thoughtful, I’m actually—’ She swallowed down her emotion, trying not to ruin the moment with silly tears.

  ‘What’s wrong? Have I upset you?’ Leo was by her side in an instant and enveloping her into his strong embrace. ‘I know that we usually spend this time of year somewhere warmer and more exotic. Are you disappointed?’

  Dara shook her head quickly, looking up into the brilliant emerald depths of his eyes. He was so serious, so concerned, and yet she couldn’t seem to find the words to assure him that this was wonderful.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ she rasped. ‘Thank you.’

  She felt his arms relax around her, pulling her closer into the wall of his chest. She tilted her head up and claimed his mouth in a kiss full of heat and promise.

  * * *

  Leo groaned and smoothed his hands down Dara’s back slowly, allowing his hands to rest on her supple curves. She was still as addictive as ever, his wife. And he’d be damned, but he couldn’t wait another moment before having her.

  The soft rug before the fire made for an excellent makeshift bed. He lowered them both to the floor slowly, unbuttoning his shirt in the process. Dara began to pull at the buttons on her own blouse, but Leo had other plans. He laid a hand gently on top of hers.

  ‘I’ve been fantasizing for weeks about undressing you,’ he whispered sensuously as he ran a slow, torturous hand down her ribcage.

  Dara shivered, heat rising in her cheeks. ‘You still fantasize about me?’ She looked doubtful.

  ‘Amore mio, you are the only woman who gets me like this. Look at me—I’m rock-hard and struggling for breath after one kiss.’

  Dara’s eyes sparked with possession as she laid her hand on his belt buckle. ‘I’m glad. Because I plan on being the only woman for a long time yet.’

  Leo sucked in a breath as her fingers undid the buckle, lowering the zip of his trousers in one smooth movement. Her hand wandered, momentarily grazing his erection and making him groan.

  ‘Such a tease,’ he growled, pushing her back down onto the rug. ‘This is my fantasy, remember?’

  Leo grabbed the waistline of her pencil skirt, tugging it low on her hips before removing it completely. What he saw beneath made his eyes widen and his heart thump uncomfortably. Delicate thigh-high stockings covered her legs, held in place by a black lace garter belt.

  ‘This is new.’ He felt his throat run dry.

  Dara’s blush deepened. ‘I had a feeling you’d like it.’

  Leo ran his hand across the flimsy lace, feeling the heat of her skin underneath. A matching thong was the only thing that lay between his fingers and the moist heat of her delicate skin beneath.

  ‘I planned to take my time...’ He bit his lower lip, watching her eyes darken as she arched her hips against his hand. He leaned down, taking the lace between his teeth as he undid one catch and rolled the stocking slowly down the smooth skin of her thigh. Discarding it on the floor, he turned his attention to the other thigh and repeated the action. Dara shivered, unconsciously spreading her thighs wide for him. Or maybe it wasn’t unconscious at all; maybe she was deliberately trying to drive him insane.

  Pushing the thin lace to one side, Leo trailed one fingertip along the slick crease between her thighs. Dara moaned under his touch, pressing closer into his hand. He could tell that she was ready for him. But a wicked part of him made her wait a moment longer. He leaned just close enough to blow a single breath of hot air against her sensitive flesh.

  Dara gasped, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck to pull him closer.

  The action drove him wild. She was flushed and breathing harshly. Leo obeyed her breathless plea, pressing his lips to her tender flesh and hearing her groan in response. He moved his mouth in sync with his fingers, driving her closer and closer to that point of no return. He felt her body tense under the onslaught of pleasure. A single curse escaped those delicate lips as she reached her climax.

  No sooner had her aftershocks subsided than he was thrusting deep inside her, sinking into her molten heat with a muttered curse of his own. ‘Oh, Dio, I’ve missed this.’ He groaned as he built up a steady rhythm, spreading her legs wide as he leaned down and took one taut nipple into his mouth.

  Dara caressed his back with her fingertips as he drove into her with all the control he could muster.

  His release came hard and fast, taking them both by surprise.

  Once the wave of pleasure had subsided, he sank down on the rug by her side and exhaled hard.

  Dara sat up on one elbow, tracing the hairs on his chest idly. ‘That was worth the wait.’

  Leo murmured his agreement, feeling her hands on his chest and listening to her rhythmic breathing as his eyes closed.

  * * *

  Dara couldn’t sleep. She stared up at the two stockings that hung over the fireplace. They looked so plain, so small on that huge mantelpiece. That same feeling that had plagued her for the past few months threatened to overcome her again.

  This wasn’t about the stockings.

  The same way as her frequent trips to Syracuse had nothing at all to do with business.

  Since they had opened up their charitable project, the Valente Foundation, she had been required to attend a handful of fundraisers and benefits. Her presence wasn’t necessarily required in any of the institutions they supported on a day-to-day basis, and yet she had found herself ta
king on the role of patroness at the Syracuse orphanage with the aim of being a silent figure.

  The first couple of trips had been to check on the progress of some renovations, and then she had arranged for a new playground to be built. That playground had been finished in the summer, and yet she still found reason to visit as often as she could manage. With Leo away she had found herself making the hour-long trip up to three times a week. Even the ever-smiling house matron had begun to look confused at her continued presence.

  There were stockings up on the fireplace at the orphanage too. Seventeen of them, side by side, hanging on a string in the common room. Now that Leo was home she supposed she would find no reason to go to Syracuse again. He would ask questions about why she visited only one orphanage—why not all the others? Why not the hospitals? He would know, just as she knew, that her actions weren’t about being charitable at all.

  The press had been merciless in the beginning: everyone had wanted to see Leo Valente transformed from playboy to father. Dara had never made a secret of her inability to bear children, so it had been no surprise that the press had caught wind of it soon after their wedding. The rumour mill had gone into overdrive. Would they adopt? Would they use a surrogate? They’d been a hot topic for quite some time.

  They had decided that their business was their own, and that their choice to remain childless was both private and definite.

  Hot tears threatened to fall from her eyes now, as emotion built in her throat. It just didn’t make sense. She had made it clear from the start—before they married—that children were not in her future. She’d made her peace with that on a hospital bed, upon being informed that her condition was incurable. She hadn’t been foolish enough to hold out any hope of some day carrying a child of her own. It was better to be realistic. She had never had strong maternal tendencies anyway. For goodness’ sake, she was a workaholic and a complete neat freak—both qualities didn’t exactly mix well with motherhood.