Breaking the Sheikh's Rules

by Abby Green

  As Iseult watched he started to press teasing hot kisses up her inner thighs, and then she felt his breath feather between her legs as he showed her exactly what he meant.

  The following early evening Iseult looked around at where men were taking down tents, packing up. Lina had already left with Iseult’s baggage, and now she waited for Nadim by his Jeep. For their return to Merkazad, there was no question of how she was travelling. She was with Nadim. As effectively as if she had a sign around her neck that proclaimed, I slept with Nadim and am now his property!

  But even that thought couldn’t dampen the ardour in her veins as she saw Nadim in the distance, with his head inclined towards an old and gnarled man who leant on a stick, listening patiently. He’d awoken a hunger within her that she feared might never be quenched.

  Even the memory of Lina’s reaction to her arrival back at her own tent early that afternoon couldn’t quench the heat. The teasing, warmly affectionate banter was gone, and Lina had morphed into someone who wouldn’t meet Iseult’s eyes. She’d acted with such an obsequious manner that Iseult had felt a little ill. When she’d asked Lina if something was wrong, Lina had replied evasively that nothing was wrong, but clearly things were different now. Iseult had become part of Nadim’s retinue and therefore had to be treated accordingly.

  Even so…Iseult couldn’t feel regret or remorse for the decision she’d taken. She watched Nadim stride towards her, with his cream robes billowing out around him, and felt weak with longing.

  As they made the journey back down the mountains and into the Merkazadi plateau again, Nadim spent most of his time on a cellphone, speaking in a dizzying array of languages. One minute French, the next Spanish, back to English, and then something unmistakably Arabic.

  Iseult tried to relax and look at the scenery but it was impossible. Her body seemed to be vibrating at a higher frequency, and Nadim would periodically reach for her hand, touching her, seeking her eyes, setting off a chain reaction of heat waves through her body and over her skin.

  Nadim had made love to Iseult over and over again, but each time without seeking his own release. He was letting her body get used to the pleasure he could so effortlessly evoke, and even though she’d begged him to take her he’d held back, showing her how pleasure could come in many different ways. It had left her feeling sated and restless all at the same time.

  ‘What are you thinking of?’

  Iseult whirled around, face flushing. She’d been so engrossed that she hadn’t even heard him terminate his conversation. ‘No…nothing…’ she stuttered ineffectually, as she feared what she had been thinking about must be engraved all over her face.

  Nadim smiled that seductive, mocking smile and took her hand, taking it to his mouth where he pressed a kiss against her inner palm. Iseult squirmed and blushed and tried to pull her hand away. ‘Don’t…the driver…’

  She looked to the front, but the driver was looking resolutely forward. Nadim let her hand go and drawled softly, ‘We’re as good as alone. Asad doesn’t speak English.’

  Iseult blushed more. ‘That may be, but he wouldn’t have to speak English to know what’s going on.’

  A familiarly autocratic look crossed Nadim’s face, and Iseult cut in before he could speak. ‘I know, I know—you’re the Sheikh and no one questions what you do. But what about me? I have to work—’

  ‘You don’t have to work any more…’

  Iseult’s mouth opened and closed. As much as she hated the thought of gossip, she wasn’t going to hide away either. Fire built in her belly and she rounded fully on Nadim. ‘I am not going to be locked up in that castle like some concubine. I want to keep working with Devil’s Kiss. And I want to help Jamilah in the stables.’

  Nadim shrugged, nonchalantly picking a bit of non-existent lint off his regal cuff. ‘I have no problem with you working—as long as you’re in my bed when I want you…’

  He came close then, and Iseult saw that his nonchalance was just a thin veneer. She’d angered him again with her outspokenness. ‘You’re my mistress now, Iseult, in my bed until I say so…’

  Rebellion quivered in Iseult’s belly. ‘What about me? Don’t I have any say in this?’

  He shook his head, and again reality chaffed. No other woman had ever questioned his intentions. ‘Not really, habiba.’

  Distracted for a second, Iseult asked, ‘What does that mean? Habiba?’ He’d called her that a few times over the past night.

  Nadim’s mouth twisted for a moment. Something dark crossed his face, and then with clear reluctance he said, ‘It means beloved…but it’s just a figure of speech.’ He put a finger under Iseult’s chin, and his voice was hard. ‘I know how your first lover can inspire feelings… Don’t fall in love with me, Iseult. I won’t be responsible for your heart.’

  The sharp pain that gripped her chest made her lash out without thinking about what she was saying. ‘I can take care of myself. I wouldn’t be foolish enough to give my heart to someone who didn’t even love his own wife.’

  Nadim’s eyes flashed in angry response and his hand tightened on her chin. Immediately Iseult felt contrite. But before she could say anything he just replied, ‘Good. Then we both know where we stand.’

  Iseult jerked her chin away from Nadim’s finger, going cold inside at the evidence of his implacable stance. ‘And, anyway, who’s to say you won’t fall in love with me?’

  Something about her was so endearingly vulnerable, like a lion cub standing up to a much bigger opponent, that Nadim had to curb his reflex to haul her into him, crush her against his chest and kiss her into oblivion, until they were both going up in flames and it would be the easiest thing in the world to slip out of his robes and open her jeans and pull them down… He cursed the driver just inches away. He might not understand English, but Iseult was right. He already had a damn good idea what was going on. His whole retinue did after he’d carried Iseult into his tent last night like some ancient warrior.

  The lack of his usual control made him say starkly now, ‘I won’t fall in love, Iseult. You can be assured of that. Love serves no purpose in my life.’

  As she looked at him he could see something much more vulnerable cross over her face, and she said quietly, ‘But you’ll marry again some day…’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ he dismissed easily with a hand. ‘But this time I’ll make sure that my chosen bride is under no illusions that there will be love.’ His face was no less harsh, but not as closed as he said, ‘The present, Iseult, is all I’m interested in, and you are the present. When we get back to Merkazad you’ll see that Lina will have moved your things to a room closer to mine.’

  Iseult’s mouth twisted. ‘Out of the women’s quarters and into the harem?’

  Nadim smiled. ‘Something like that.’

  Iseult shivered, and wondered what it was about this man—how he could hold her in such thrall when he could be so cold and cruel. She wondered if his aversion to the notion of falling in love had become hardened by the very tragic and weighty expectations of his wife. She could understand that as a ruling monarch the luxury of falling in love wouldn’t be an acceptable reason for marriage. He would have to marry strategically and well.

  Nadim’s phone rang again at that moment and he answered it curtly, releasing Iseult from his intense gaze. She welcomed the brief respite, but cast him a quick, surreptitious glance and felt weak all over again just looking at his regal profile—that strong jaw, that olive skin—and remembering how he’d so easily brought her to ecstasy countless times with just his hands…his mouth.

  Was she being the biggest fool on earth to indulge in such folly? Two voices warred in her head with contradictory answers… She knew that unless she was to walk away completely, and go home and risk the security he now gave her family, she had no choice but to stay. And, if she was being completely honest, she knew she couldn’t leave. This man was taking her on a sensual journey and she simply didn’t have the will to deny herself. Not when she’d resi
gned herself to a fate of never exploring it.

  Jamilah and Nadim needn’t have warned Iseult to be careful; she wouldn’t be falling for him. No way.

  It was very hard to cling to that assertion, though, some hours after they’d arrived back at the castle and Iseult heard the door of her bedroom open and close quietly. Her new bedroom was even more sumptuous than the last one, but none of that captivated her now. What captivated her was the tall, broad figure that darkened her doorway, long flowing robes barely concealing his powerful physique.

  In a few long strides he was by her bed and the robe was gone. Iseult’s throat dried at the stunningly perfect musculature of Nadim’s body as he stood tall and proud. He reached down and twitched back the sheets. Iseult lay there in just pants and a T-shirt. Nadim grimaced. ‘I need to see about getting you some more alluring nightwear.’

  Instantly Iseult was defensive, reaching down for the sheet again. But Nadim came down beside her and stopped her hands. She rounded on him. ‘I’m not some doll you can just dress up for your pleasure only. I happen to be very comfortable as I am.’

  With his hands holding her captive, and far more naked than her, Nadim bent down and covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply and so thoroughly that by the time he’d finished she was dizzy with lust.

  He growled at her, ‘You could be dressed in a coarse sack and you’d still turn me on…but you need to know the sensuality of silk and lace too…and I can do that for you…’

  Rendered defenceless just by his kiss, Iseult said unthinkingly, ‘I don’t need silk or lace. I just need you…’

  Nadim released her hands and pulled at her T-shirt until she lifted her arms and it was gone. Sitting back for a moment, he looked his fill at her beautiful full breasts, with their hard rosy tips. She lay back like a courtesan of old, hands above her head, hair spread out around her in glorious abandon, and Nadim had to wonder in that moment if he’d been mistaken—if she hadn’t been as innocent as he’d believed.

  But just as he thought that she bit her lip and brought her hands down to cover her breasts, and something exultant moved through him. To disguise it, he bent forward and took her hands away, and before lavishing attention on each generous mound of flesh he said, ‘And no more unflattering sports bras…’

  Iseult sucked in a breath and closed her eyes when she felt Nadim’s mouth on her. Hot, wet, and sucking her into some parallel universe of pleasure. With an economy and deftness of movement he’d taken off her knickers, sliding them down her legs, and then he was right beside her, the whole length of his naked body next to hers.

  Iseult instinctively closed a hand around him in an intimate caress, loving the feel of his steely strength covered with such silk. ‘Please, Nadim…’ she said between drugging kisses. ‘I want you to make love to me…like you did before.’

  Nadim pulled back for a moment. His hand smoothed down over her contracting belly and sought the juncture of her thighs, where she felt so wet she was embarrassed. ‘You’re not tender any more?’

  Iseult was struck at his concern. This was why he’d held back? She shook her head and moaned softly when she felt him penetrate her with a finger, moving her hips towards him in wanton abandonment.

  She barely heard the foil wrapper, or saw him smooth the protection over his erection. He didn’t lie her flat on her back; he pulled her in close to his body, face to face. She felt him lift her leg so that it lay over his hip, opening her to him intimately.

  And then he shifted down slightly, and she felt the blunt head of him at her slick entrance, and then with a surge of power his mouth found hers and his body penetrated hers so fully that stars danced before her eyes.

  Her hands were clasped around his neck, hips locked with his. Nadim was buried inside her, and in that moment, before he started moving again, Iseult knew that whatever assurances she’d given herself earlier about not falling for him were lies, lies, lies.

  Nadim started to move, slowly and powerfully, in and out. His mouth moved down her jaw and neck and Iseult couldn’t think any more. He cupped her breast, and as he thrust again he took it into his mouth, sucking roughly, biting gently. Iseult’s hand funnelled into his silky hair, holding him to her as her back arched into him even more, as her leg tightened around his hip, clasping him to her, while his powerful buttocks threatened to make her world explode.

  And, feeling one long thrust deep inside her, Iseult couldn’t hold back and did explode—and it was far more earth-shattering than anything she’d known before.

  When Iseult woke the next morning to the alarm clock on her phone, she knew she was alone in the bed—on her front, spreadeagled in abandon. She immediately felt self-conscious and grabbed for the sheet, pulling it over her and lying on her back.

  Her whole body felt sated and lethargic, as if some soporific drug had been injected into her veins. When she and Nadim had recovered last night, after making love again, Nadim had cradled her against him as her breath had finally returned to normal after the tumult. But then he’d extricated himself from her embrace, picked up his robe and left the room as quietly as he’d entered.

  Iseult had heard the term wham-bam, thank you, ma’am before, but never really had a context for it. Now she did.

  And yet, she had to ask herself angrily, what had she expected? She could be under no illusions. Nadim had been brutally clear and honest from the very start. What had she expected? Tender words of love? Hours of cuddling and hand-holding?

  Despite the unwelcome realisation that perhaps this was how his wife had felt, Iseult felt her treacherous heart give a little lurch in longing, and suddenly she knew with a terrible misgiving that Nadim had the potential to destroy her.

  That evening Iseult ached all over: from tension and from work. She’d held her head high all day, but it was clear in the way that everyone treated her now that they all knew about her new status in Nadim’s life…and bed. People walked on eggshells around her, and she could only hope and pray that if she resolutely got on with the job as normal they’d soon forget about it…

  To her intense relief Jamilah had treated her no differently. She’d given Iseult an enigmatic look, but then Iseult had noticed that the other woman had been distracted and slightly strained-looking herself. When she went looking for her at the end of the day, to see if anything was wrong, Jamilah had gone out somewhere.

  Taking advantage of Jamilah’s empty office, Iseult called home to speak to her brothers and sister and father, as it had been a few days. Putting down the phone on the conversation, she took a deep breath—just as Jamilah’s door opened with a bang and Nadim stood there, glowering.

  Immediately Iseult’s protective instincts kicked in, and her back stiffened even as another part of her melted inside to see him dressed in a stunning suit and tie, every inch of him the urbane businessman again.

  ‘Why aren’t you up at the castle waiting for me?’

  Iseult stood up, quivering from head to toe at his autocratic tone. ‘I wasn’t aware of any schedule I had to follow—perhaps there’s some Mistress to the Sheikh guide-book I need to study?’

  Nadim came in and closed the door behind him, instantly threatening. ‘Still as impudent as ever. So much for hoping that passion might tame that tongue of yours.’

  Iseult’s shoulders straightened. ‘I’m not some animal that can be tamed, Sheikh. Just because I’ve stupidly agreed to sleep with you it does not mean that I’ve become lobotomised in the process. Strange as this might sound, it wasn’t my life’s ambition to become the mistress of a sheikh.’

  To Iseult’s utter surprise, Nadim threw his head back and laughed uproariously. He came even closer, eyes sparkling, and pulled a resisting Iseult into him.

  She struggled and said, feeling curiously emotional all of a sudden, ‘Don’t laugh at me.’

  Suddenly all mirth was gone as Nadim looked down into her eyes and said, almost musingly, ‘I think that’s why you’re so good with thoroughbreds…you can sense their struggle a
gainst being tamed and they can sense your empathy…’

  It was the first time anyone had articulated what Iseult had always felt instinctively.

  And then he said huskily, all arrogance and autocracy gone, ‘I thought we’d moved on from Sheikh? And you weren’t stupid to agree to sleep with me…I think that was a very wise decision… In any case, you weren’t going to be allowed to refuse.’

  ‘I wasn’t?’ Iseult asked shakily, mesmerised by the tension in his body and his glittering gaze.

  Nadim shook his head. ‘No. I wouldn’t have rested until I had you exactly where I wanted you.’

  He pulled at the band holding her hair up in its habitual ponytail and she felt her hair fall down around her shoulders, saw how his eyes followed the movement. He was so close now she could feel the latent strength in his body, could feel him stir against her, and she had to fight not to squirm against him.

  He looked down at her again and quirked his mouth. ‘I don’t think Jamilah would appreciate us making love on her desk, do you?’

  Iseult shook her head faintly, a gush of liquid heat rushing to her groin at the sudden image of Nadim stripping and spreading her back on the desk to move between her legs and take her.

  ‘Well, if we don’t make a move soon, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. We’re having dinner together this evening in my rooms, and I’ve bought you some gifts…’

  Nadim watched a wary look cross Iseult’s face as he took her hand to lead her from the room. He could still remember the hot irritation that had surged through him at finding she hadn’t returned to her rooms. Through all his intensive meetings today he hadn’t been able to concentrate—helplessly distracted when images of their night together last night had inserted themselves with dismaying frequency into his mind.

  The hunger to see her again had been so powerful that when she hadn’t been waiting meekly for him he’d seen red and come racing down to the stables—only to find her in Jamilah’s office, evidently calling home.