The Sheikh's Proposal

by Barbara McMahon

  How lucky for Kharun to have a stable close by. Riding along the beach sounded wildly romantic.

  Romantic?

  “Fun, I meant fun,” she said out loud. “It’ll be fun.” A light tap on her door startled her. “Great, now he’ll think I talk to myself,” she mumbled as she hastened to the door.

  “Ready?” Kharun asked. He was also dressed casually, in light pants and high, glossy riding boots. His loose shirt would shelter him from the sun’s rays, yet allow the wind to sweep through keeping him cool in the hot afternoon.

  She smiled brightly. “I sure am.” And glad to have a respite from being cooped up in the house, but she wouldn’t tell him that. She was grateful, actually, for the opportunity to keep her embarrassing mistake from her father. She needed to act accordingly.

  Obviously not all of the servants had been granted time off, there were several men working in the stables, which proved to be a short walk from the villa. Two Arabian horses were already saddled, standing in the shade near a water trough.

  One was larger than the other, as black as midnight, with a long flowing mane and tail. The second horse was a bay with one white stocking dusting the left rear hoof.

  “They’re beautiful,” Sara said, enchanted. She walked over to them and patted both on the neck. Fumbling in her pocket, she pulled out two carrots, which she fed to the well-mannered horses.

  “A way to make a friend for life,” Kharun said, watching her.

  He stood nearby his feet spread slightly, his hands on his hips. He looked the epitome of wild desert sheikh. Instead of the lush greenery behind him, he should have had miles of golden desert sand, and the crystal blue of a vast and empty sky. Maybe tents to one side, with his trusty desert raiders with him.

  Sara almost shivered in reaction. She was here to ride, not to fantasize.

  “This must be Satin Magic,” she said, patting the gleaming black horse once more. He was sleek and strong—the perfect mount for Kharun.

  “And who is this?” she asked as she ran her hand along the neck of the bay.

  “Alia. Don’t let her docile air fool you. With a rider on her back, she expects to go places and runs like the wind.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “Then, if you are ready?”

  Kharun held her waist and boosted her to the horse. Sara could have managed by herself, but kept quiet, savoring the tingling sensations where his hands were. He helped her adjust her stirrups, the brush of his arm and hands against her legs heating her blood more than the sun had.

  “All set?” he asked, looking up at her.

  “Yes.” It came out far more breathless than she’d expected. Turning her horse, she waited for him to mount his.

  In only moments they were walking the horses out of the stable yard and down a winding path toward the sea.

  The Mediterranean sparkled in the late afternoon sunshine, a deep mysterious blue stretching as far as the eye could see. The brassy glare of the midday sun had mellowed as the sun sank lower in the western sky. Colors grew richer. The green of the grass and shrubs gave way to the white of the sand.

  Alia seemed impatient, pulling a little on the bit, as if anxious to race along the water’s edge. Sara wondered if the horse and she were in communion—that’s exactly what she yearned to do, too. Race fast enough to escape her thoughts.

  As soon as they reached the sand, the horse pranced.

  “She’s ready to run,” Sara said, glancing at Kharun. He looked as if he’d been born to ride. His control of the powerful horse he rode seemed effortless, yet she knew it was a demonstration of his skill. Horse and rider looked perfect together.

  “Then let’s oblige her,” he said with a sudden wicked grin. Without a visible sign, he gave his horse his head and Satin Magic stretched out into a controlled canter, sand kicking up behind him.

  “We can’t let them get ahead of us,” Sara said as she urged Alia into a gallop, her own competitive instincts rising.

  In seconds both horses were running neck and neck along the pristine beach, sand spraying behind the thundering hoofs. The breeze from the Mediterranean enhanced the feeling of speed as they let their horses set the pace. Sara laughed out loud, feeling wild and free. It was exhilarating! She felt as if she could ride forever. As if only the darkness of night could slow them down, and maybe not even then. Alia was a magical horse with a smooth gait and easy disposition. Sara was falling in love with her after only a few minutes. Could they ride every day?

  The beach stretched out ahead of them, the blue of the water a blur to the right as the horses seemed to gallop for pure joy. Stretching their legs, bunching and shifting muscles, gaits smooth and synchronous, as if they’d matched strides a million times in the past and would that many more in the future.

  Several minutes later Kharun slowed from a gallop to an easy canter. Sara followed suit. It was almost as exciting as a flat-out, go-for-broke run and easier on the horses. She watched where they were going, but had time to enjoy the remoteness of the beach, the cool breeze from the water, the splashes when an errant finger of water crossed their path and they plunged through.

  Finally, in the distance, she began to see signs of others on the beach. Kharun motioned for her to slow down. She complied instantly, bringing Alia to a complete stop. Both she and her horse were breathing hard. Her blood pumped through her veins. She felt exhilarated, alive.

  “That was fabulous!” she said when Kharun reined in beside her. “That’s the public beach ahead, I take it?”

  “Yes. We can continue for another half mile or so if you like, but at a much slower pace. I do not wish to take the horses where people are using the beach.”

  “Just a bit farther, then.” She walked her horse and Kharun came along beside her, his knee almost brushing against hers. She could have reached out to touch him with no effort. She glanced his way.

  His hair was tousled from their run, but he didn’t appear to be having trouble catching his breath. He slid a look in her direction.

  “You ride well.”

  “I told you, best lessons money could buy. I always wanted a horse, but talk about impractical with Dad’s job and all.”

  “If you like, I can arrange for you to ride while you are here. As long as you are accompanied by a groom, of course,” Kharun said.

  “You’re not very trusting. Do you think I’ll just ride away and never return?”

  He shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter if you tried, I would come after you.”

  His words sent a shiver of awareness down her back. Of course he would. They had an agreement. But even beyond that—if she left, he would be humiliated before everyone. That would prove an even worse situation than the incident she almost caused by being caught taking illegal photographs.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” she said.

  “You would do nothing to jeopardize your father’s career, right?” His voice held a mocking tone.

  Sara flared up. “That’s true. But that’s not the only reason. I gave you my word, and that means something to me. As long as the situation is as it is, you have nothing to worry about with me, Kharun. I stand by my promises. I said I’d stay until the leases are signed and I will. I said I’d pretend this was a great marriage and I will. I’ve done nothing to give you cause to think otherwise!”

  “It’s still early days. Who knows what you might decide to do given the opportunity.”

  She could tell from his tone he was skeptical. She chafed at the restrictions but reminded herself she’d brought it all on due to her impetuous actions. Time would show him she could be trusted.

  But none of that mattered right now. The ride was not over. She’d enjoy each moment as it came.

  So she could remember when she left?

  The thought surprised her. Would she want memories about her marriage? It was a sham entered into solely to prevent a scandal.

  She began to wonder what a marriage to Kharun would be like if it weren’t a sham.

  Wou
ld he follow his father’s example and marry for passionate love? Or would he follow the dictates of his uncle’s ministers and his aunt and marry for dynastic reasons?

  Her own parents had a solid, loving marriage. But she didn’t want to have a marriage like her mother’s. Sara wanted to be a person in her own right, have her own interests and goals. Her own career.

  Her mother was the perfect businessman’s wife, loved to host parties, mingle with strangers, wear the right gown and always knew just what to do at the right time. Always knew the right thing to say.

  As Kharun’s wife would need to.

  Sara sighed. It was hard to follow in such a paragon’s steps.

  “Why the sigh?” Kharun asked.

  “What? Oh, I was thinking about my mother.”

  “She is a lovely woman. You will look as lovely when you are her age,” he said.

  She looked at him in startled surprise. “I will?”

  He nodded once, abruptly.

  “Thank you. That’s one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever had.” Made even more special coming from a man who didn’t appear to like her, or trust her. “But Mom’s a hard act to follow. She always knows what to say, what to wear, how to act.”

  “Perhaps that’s her calling in life. She has made a niche for herself as your father’s supporter. Somehow, I don’t see you in a similar role.”

  Sara grinned at him. “Got it in one!”

  “So what do you want to do in life, Sara Kinsale?”

  Her grin faded. “I don’t have a clue. That’s what makes it so hard. My sister Margaret always knew she wanted to be an attorney from the day she started high school. Josh was scientific-minded from kindergarten, so they tell me. I know my parents despair of me ever settling down.”

  She didn’t want to mention how pleased her mother had been that she married Kharun. She had to find something she was good at and pursue it. She had hoped the photojournalist job would be it. She had been taking pictures since she was little, and had a flare for it. But she’d blown her first major assignment.

  “Did you always know you would one day run your family’s business?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “When I was growing up, I wanted to drive race cars, fly airplanes and pilot a submarine. But as I grew older, business fascinated me. Especially after my father let me work in various departments of the different family companies between school terms. I was hooked.”

  She was delighted to learn this tidbit about the serious man beside her. Who would have thought he once had frivolous ideas?

  “So did you pursue any of those subjects in school? Maybe not piloting a submarine, but maybe racing?”

  “Flying. I have a multi-engine license. But none of the others. By the time I was sent away to school, my father made it clear business acumen was important. So I focused my studies in that direction. My family has several interests that span shipping, manufacturing and exporting. That was the role I was groomed for.”

  “Did you want it?” she asked. Dynastic family responsibilities were beyond her experience.

  “I find it much more challenging and rewarding than trying to garner the consensus of ministers each of whom seem to have their own agenda. My father loved that aspect.”

  “Do you have to run the companies? Can’t you go back to your earlier dreams?”

  “One cannot fight one’s destiny. Surely you know that by now.”

  “Ouch.” Was it her destiny to roam restlessly searching forever for some career that would hold meaning and interest?

  Kharun drew up his horse. “Here is the path back to the stable. Have you had enough riding for today?”

  “Yes. It’s been great, but such a long time since I’ve been riding. My legs are a bit stiff already.”

  He led the way along the path until the stable came into view. Dismounting when the grooms ran out, Kharun tossed the reins to one of the men.

  Sara slid off her horse before Kharun could come around to help her and smiled at the groom who took the reins.

  “Whoa,” she said, as she took a step and felt her legs fold up beneath her. Before she could hit the ground, however, Kharun’s arms were around her, beneath her knees, behind her back. In one swoop he picked her up and held her against his chest.

  “I can walk,” she protested, leaning just a little into his masculine strength. Of course she could walk, but what woman in the world had never fantasized about some dashing, romantic man sweeping her off her feet and into his arms?

  “Your legs will feel wobbly for a while. Sit and rest.” He set her on a bench near the side of the stable.

  Sara blinked. She had visions of Kharun carrying her through the flower-scented garden, through the opened French doors to her bedroom and—

  Get a grip, she told herself, feeling the heat of embarrassment sweep up her cheeks.

  “You’re right, I’ll be fine in a minute.” She couldn’t look at him. What if he suspected where her wild thoughts were running? Theirs was a contrived marriage, lasting only as long as the treaty negotiations. There were no romantic overtones, no enduring emotions between them.

  But for a moment, Sara didn’t think there had to be. They were married. He had kissed her a couple of times already. She looked up at him, her eyes focused on his mouth. She wanted more from him. And she suspected he wouldn’t turn her down. What would happen if she kissed him?

  Kharun was sitting at his desk in the study the next morning when Piers knocked on the open door and stuck his head in.

  “Got a moment?” he asked. “I took a chance and came by to bring you the latest proposals.”

  “Piers. I wondered if you’d drop by this morning. Come in.” Kharun put down the report he was reading and motioned his long-time friend and most trusted adviser to enter.

  “Honeymoon over?” Piers asked, grinning at his friend. He carried his briefcase over to the desk and placed it in a cleared area, then sat in his usual spot.

  “Such as it was.”

  “And?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s more difficult being married than I had anticipated.”

  “An engagement would have been better.”

  “But probably would not have fooled Garh, Hamin and the others.”

  Piers laughed. “A hastily planned ceremony doesn’t make a marriage.”

  “It’s binding enough.”

  “True, but an annulment will be easy once the negotiations are finished.” He opened his briefcase and pulled out a folder. “The latest from Samuel Kinsale. Do you think he is mellowing because his daughter married you? It seems we may be able to close the deal sooner than anticipated.”

  Kharun looked up at that. “I can’t imagine that tough businessman softening for anyone. How soon?”

  Piers shrugged. “Within a few days it looks like. Going to New York for the signing?”

  “That’s where his corporate offices are. I decided that when we began this I’d go there. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  “I might join you if you go. How about your wife?”

  “Sara will be thrilled to hear the negotiations are progressing so well. She originally came to join her parents while they were here. I suspect she’ll wish to continue that vacation when we separate. Has there been any further repercussions due to her actions?”

  “All’s quiet on the Garh and Hamin front. I think they are beginning to cave on their stance. It wouldn’t look good, challenging the new wife of the negotiator, now would it?”

  “And when we separate?” Kharun leaned back in his chair and studied his adviser. “What will be the repercussions then?”

  “Ah, good question. Perhaps they will surge back stronger than ever in their anti-progress stance. Who can say at this point?”

  Kharun rose and walked to the window. He didn’t notice the beautiful blossoms in full bloom. Nor the glimpse of the sea beyond. He saw instead Sara’s laughing face when she was happy, the sparkle in her silvery eyes when she was angry, and
the graceful feminine way she had of walking or swimming or riding.

  “Something wrong?” Piers asked, watching Kharun curiously.

  “What would be the ramifications of a divorce instead of an annulment?” Kharun asked without turning.

  The silence stretched out behind him.

  Finally he turned to meet Piers’s puzzled gaze.

  “I don’t understand.” He blinked, slapped the side of his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Oh, damn, I do understand. Kharun, you and she didn’t—”

  “It is a hypothetical question,” Kharun said firmly. At least at this point. But the desire he felt around Sara seemed to escalate each time he saw her. And he knew she was aware of the sparks that seemed to fly between them.

  Yesterday at the stables, for a moment, he’d thought she’d start something. She’d looked at him intently, then color had risen in her cheeks. She’d been distant ever since. What had she been thinking?

  Piers cleared his throat. “Actually, it might be better to divorce, than have an annulment. More believable, if you know what I mean.”

  “Elaborate.”

  “Let’s face it, Kharun, no one in their right mind is going to think you and she didn’t do anything—unless the marriage was a sham. It’s one thing to fool your ministers—something else to let them know they’ve been fooled.”

  “Ah, so now you think it expedient to get a divorce rather than an annulment?”

  “Can I have a few days to think over the situation?” Piers asked warily.

  “Take as long as you like. It is hypothetical.”

  “But for how long, I wonder,” his friend asked.

  Sara appeared in the doorway, stopping suddenly when she saw Piers.

  “Oh, excuse me, I didn’t know you had company.”

  “Come in, Sara. You remember Piers.”

  “The best man. Of course. How are you?” She smiled warily, but remained at the doorway.

  “Was there something you wanted?” Kharun asked politely.

  “I wanted to phone my mother. She’ll wonder why I haven’t contacted her at all. I mean, I did come here to visit them, then disappeared. The next thing she knew, she was attending my wedding.”