How to Seduce a Sheikh
Page 6
‘Now,’ she muttered. ‘I want you inside me now, Zafar.’
He perched on the edge of the fountain, pulling her onto his lap, his hands cupped around her bottom as she sank slowly, deliciously, onto him. Her feet trailed in the fountain, the water cool, a delightful contrast to the inferno raging inside her. She clenched around him, holding him, forcing him to still as she kissed him slowly, deeply, and then she began to move, bracing herself on his shoulders, sliding away from him, then taking him inside her again, slow and hard. His eyes were glazed. His skin was taut, stretched tight across his cheekbones. Her nipples grazed the rough hair on his chest, sending little frissons of pleasure through her. She slid up and thrust down again, holding him so tightly that she could feel him throb. Her climax was not far away, but she held on, waiting for him, wanting him. Harder. Faster. Again and again. She felt his shaft thicken, causing her blood to thicken, her own muscles to tighten. One final thrust and he cried out, pulsing into her as she pulsed around him, spilling himself, abandoning himself to the power of his climax, surrendering to her for the first and only time.
‘I love you,’ she whispered, knowing he could not hear her. ‘I love you, Zafar.’
* * *
Firas proved as efficient as ever. Over the next few days the preparations for Colette’s departure were completed. Smarting at the accusations she had flung at him, confused by the intensity of their lovemaking, Zafar distanced himself from her, telling himself that the sooner she was gone from Kharidja, the sooner he could return to the relative calm of his old life.
In a few short hours she was due to leave Kharidja under escort. Zafar prowled the battlements gazing up at the night sky. He didn’t want her to go. He did not want to return to the solitude of his old life, but he had no alternative. The vow he had made when Afifah died haunted him. Colette’s accusation, that he lived his life in fear, taunted him. He feared no one and nothing. He lived as he wished and by no one else’s rules. He was Prince Zafar al-Zuhr.
He was also a man. And he was not, as Colette had pointed out so fearlessly, infallible. Afifah was dead and there was nothing he could do to change that. If he had placed a guard at the tent. If she had not gone out alone. If he had not defeated the man who arranged for her abduction in battle. If he had not spent his rule fighting for peace...
No, there were some things he would not, could not, change. For the first time, he could see that day’s events in the context of the preceding months, even years. It was not guilt he should feel but regret. Colette had taught him that. He could begin to imagine a future where he was not weighted down with remorse, driven by the need to atone. And he could see now that Colette was right. These past two years of his life had been a victory for his enemies. He was frozen in time by the vow he had made, yet to break it...
The only possible justification there could be to break it dawned on him suddenly. A feisty, fearless Frenchwoman. He was in love with her. Zafar shook his head in wonderment. How could he have been so blind? He was in love. Not the gentle, protective love he had felt for Afifah but a love every bit as feisty and fearless as the woman who had captured his heart. The woman who would leave tomorrow for her native land if he did not try to stop her.
Taking the battlement stairs in several bounding leaps, Zafar made for the harem. He did not know what her answer would be but he knew if he didn’t ask her, he would regret it always, and thanks to her, he was finally done with regrets. Throwing open the door of the harem, he called for Colette.
The courtyard was empty. Her name echoed around the terrace as he called, running frantically from room to vacant room. Panic clutched at his heart as he strode along the corridor, calling loudly for his man of business.
‘Where is she?’
Firas bowed. ‘You wished me to expedite matters, Highness.’
Zafar stared at him uncomprehendingly. ‘What are you telling me?’
‘She is gone, Highness, just as you commanded.’
‘But she was not due to leave until the morning.’
‘She insisted, Highness. I think she wished to spare you the pain of a farewell. And herself, if I’m any judge.’
* * *
Colette sat straight in the saddle of the camel, trying desperately not to cry. Above her, the silver carpet of stars winked in the vast desert sky, oblivious to the forlorn woman beneath. For two days she had waited, telling herself that Zafar needed time to come to terms with the truths she had hurled at him. For two days she had nurtured a dwindling hope that he would seek her out, that they would somehow be reconciled before she left. On the third day, she knew he would not come, and she could not endure the pain of waiting, nor could she risk giving way to the more desperate urge to throw herself at him and tell him how she felt. Zafar had suffered enough guilt to last a lifetime; she would not add unrequited love to his burden.
She could not bear to say goodbye, and so she had left, quietly and unobtrusively. She would survive, because it was in her nature to do so. She would make the best of things because that was what a general’s daughter did. But she would never forget, and she would always love him.
They reached the tiny oasis where they would camp in the dead of night. Colette had been eager to continue, desperate to put as many irrecoverable miles between herself and Kharidja as possible, but the guide was adamant. The camels needed rest, and so too did she. Sitting at the mouth of her little tent, she was watching the small caravan of trusted guards take their meal when a cry of alarm went up.
‘Get in the tent, madame,’ the guard urged. ‘Take this. Use it if necessary—it is loaded. Be assured I will die before I allow any harm come to you, for if it did, my own life would be not worth living,’ he said with a twisted smile. A gun was thrust into her hand.
She did as she was bid, crouching in the far reaches of the goatskin tent, her heart pounding. She could use a gun, of course; it was one of the accomplishments her father had insisted upon. Outside, a shot was fired. A shout, curses and then a stream of furious Arabic, followed by a dark shadow looming in the doorway. ‘Do not move, or I will shoot,’ she said, her voice tremulous.
Zafar strode in, wild-eyed and dishevelled. She almost dropped the gun but remembered just in time that it was primed and set it carefully down on the floor. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘Colette.’ He stopped short in front of her. ‘Colette. No. Do not speak.’
She wasn’t sure she could. She waited, her heart fluttering, trying to quell the vain hope that she could not prevent from rising in her breast.
‘You were right,’ Zafar said. ‘I did all I could to save Afifah but it was not enough. I have not yet ceased blaming myself, but I know that in time I will. And you were right about the consequences, too. I have allowed the fear that it would happen again to rule me. You were right, and I thank you for having the courage to show me.’
‘Oh. Well, that is most—I am very pleased to hear it Zafar, but—’
‘I am not finished yet! By the gods, woman, I am trying to ask you to marry me. You might at least have the decency not to interrupt.’
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Zafar pulled his headdress off and cast it to the ground. ‘I love you,’ he said baldly. ‘I am in love with you. I want you beside me, with me, in my life. Always.’
‘But you said you would never take another wife. You said—’
‘I know what I said! Must you throw my words back at me? I was wrong! I am not infallible, as you know only too well. I was wrong. I want you to be my wife. I don’t know whether it is possible that you return my feelings, but—’
Finally, she found her voice. ‘I do,’ Colette said hurriedly. ‘Zafar, I do. I love you so much, and I’m sorry for interrupting you, but I have waited so long to tell you—’
‘You love me?’
‘I am in love with you. I have been for...I don’t know, days, weeks, it feels like forever.’
‘Then you will stay?’
/> ‘If you want me.’
‘If I want you!’ He burst into hearty laughter, then pulled her tight against him, holding her so close she could scarcely breathe. ‘Mignonne, I have never wanted any woman the way I want you. I want you in my bed and in my life and I never, ever want to let you go. I know there is danger—I will always have enemies, but—’
‘Zafar, I would far rather be happy with you no matter what the dangers than unhappy without you.’
He laughed again, though softly. ‘You stole my very words. Will you marry me, chérie?’
‘Yes, yes and yes, my desert prince,’ Colette replied.
‘Yes!’ Zafar exclaimed in a most unprincely manner, taking her into his arms amid the awesome vastness of the desert landscape and kissing her.
* * * * *
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ISBN: 978-14603-1307-7
How to Seduce a Sheikh
Copyright © 2013 by Marguerite Kaye
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