Sheikhs: Rich, powerful desert kings and the women who bring them to their knees...

by Clare Connelly

  She bit down on her lower lip, when she heard her own description repeated by Radiz.

  “I will be happy to arrange your tour. Simply let me know when you are available to travel to Fasiya.”

  She frowned. It couldn’t be Tom; he had precisely no interest in history.

  “I’d be thrilled.”

  Miranda gasped and broke into a fast walk. “Daddy?”

  The two men in her life stood as she entered the palatial salon area. Her father, dressed in a suit, with a tie, was strangely formal. Radiz had likewise changed into a suit. Black, with a crisp white shirt and a grey tie.

  “What’s going on?”

  “His Highness…”

  “Radiz, please,” The Sheikh corrected quietly, his eyes locked to Miranda. “We are, after all, to be family.”

  Miranda felt as though she might fall to the floor. She stared back at Radiz, completely lost for words.

  “Dad,” Miranda crossed to her father and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Would you mind giving me a moment with Radiz?”

  “I’ve overstayed my welcome,” he said in his typical, bumbling way. “I only meant to stay a moment, but we got so caught up talking about Fasiya’s rich history that I lost the time altogether.”

  Miranda nodded. “I’m going too, daddy. If you wait in the corridor, I’ll just be a moment behind you.”

  He frowned, as he looked from Miranda then Radiz. Comprehension dawning, he chuckled good-naturedly. “I’ll wait five minutes, pet. If you’re not out in that time, I’ll take the hint.” He extended a hand to Radiz and shook it congenially. “Pleasure meeting you, son.”

  Miranda watched her father go, her brows knitted together.

  “What is going on, Radiz?” She demanded, as soon as they were alone together.

  He looked at her as though he was weighing her up; trying to read her. “Tom and Steph will be here soon,” he said quietly.

  “I am going to leave this apartment right now unless you explain why my father was just talking to you about the ruins of Neman.”

  “Because I’m going to take him there. And you.”

  She shook her head. “No, you’re not. I’m never going back to Fasiya,” she said firmly, her voice cracking. “And you have no business involving my father in this disaster.” She closed her eyes, mortification overcoming her. “Please tell me you didn’t say to him what you said to Steph. That I bartered my virginity to keep her secret safe.”

  “Of course not,” he said, putting a hand beneath her elbow and propelling her deeper into the apartment, away from the door. “I told him I intend to marry you.”

  Chapter Ten

  “What?” She stepped out of his arms, and turned to face him. “What did you say?”

  “I’m going to marry you, Miranda. And soon.”

  “No.” She was trembling from head to toe. “You are certainly not.”

  His laugh was rich, his face indulgent. “You are in love with me.”

  Her stomach ached with embarrassment. “So?” There was no sense in denying it.

  “I could never love a thief,” he said honestly. “I told myself that almost every moment that we were together. My people would never accept you. You would have been made miserable. So I insisted our relationship was a fleeting sexual connection.”

  “It was, for you. I get it.”

  “No,” he reached for her, smiling when she came to him. “I loved you, Miranda. Probably from the second we met in the prison cell, and you quoted Priya to me.” He ran his hands over her braided head. “That last night… when I began to suspect you had serious feelings for me, I knew I had to send you away. For your sake, as well as mine. I owe everything to my country and my people, and yet in you, I found a reason to want to ignore my obligations.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, but she could still feel the sting of regretful tears. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I do not lie.”

  Miranda nodded. “Yes, fine. And I do. I did. But I lied for Steph.”

  “I know that now,” he conceded heavily.

  “You couldn’t have loved me and treated me as you did.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, though her whole body reverberated with feeling as their gazes clashed. “You hurt me, Radiz. So many times. And you knew it, too.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “I regret that,” he promised. “I was so angry with myself, for the way I wanted and needed you. I kept insisting that it was just about sex, when I knew all along it was so much more than that.”

  “I thought you don’t lie,” she responded acerbically, rubbing her fingers against her temples.

  His eyes narrowed. “I lied to myself. I refused to accept I could want a future with someone capable of such brazen theft.”

  “I wanted to tell you about Steph,” she whispered, her words haunted. “I almost did, so many times. But as soon as you talked about revoking her passport, I knew it would be a disaster for her. I had to respect her choice, Radiz.”

  “I know. And what you were prepared to go through for her makes me love you even more. You are a woman of strength, bravery, integrity and love. I think of every moment we were together with shame and regret, for not having listened to my heart. It knew what I did not. My heart knew that you are a goddess on earth.”

  “But don’t you see? I would be forever afraid that you will hurt me like that again. I can’t do it, Radiz.”

  His groan was a sound of torment. “I have never wanted anything in life more than I want you. I need your forgiveness and understanding. I am placing myself at your feet, humble and desperate, and fully aware that I don’t deserve you. I cannot let you go, Miranda. Please don’t ask it of me.”

  She straightened her back, her mind racing. “But you have let me go,” she whispered. “No. You forced me to go.”

  “And every day since has been agonising. I began sleeping in your room, just so that I was nearer to your memory.”

  She sobbed against his chest, unable to process the emotions that were washing through her. “I thought you were bored of me,” she whispered. “That you’d had enough of me.”

  “Never,” he promised, an ache deep in his stomach. “I came to London to see Mastepha, but in the back of my mind, I knew I would find you. That I would trace you down and see if I had forever ruined what we shared.”

  She made a strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “You just about did, Your Highness. If you’d taken a moment longer…”

  “Does that mean…” He swallowed, uncharacteristically anxious. “I have to know, Miranda. I have to know I haven’t lost you. I need you to say the words.”

  Miranda wasn’t sure if she was stupid or brilliant, but in the end, she was a slave to her heart. She bit down on her lip and shook her head. “I’ve always been yours.” She put her arms around his waist. “But I never want you to push me away again. Or else.” It was a feeble joke, an attempt to make light of the very real fears that still ran rampant through her.

  He shook his head. “Please, Miranda. I can’t think about what might have been. There will be time in the future to worry about how close I came to losing you. For now, let me just enjoy this moment. This perfect, right moment. Where I love you, and you love me, and our future is before us. A long oasis of happiness after six months of hell.”

  “Hell?”

  “Missing you has been hell, yes.”

  She groaned softly, tangling her fingers in his hair. “Why didn’t you contact me?” She demanded, her voice breaking. “Every day, I woke up wondering if I would hear from you.”

  “The knowledge of how deeply I hurt you is a lifetime of punishment for me, little one,” he whispered against her head. He reached down into his pocket, and lifted a small burgundy coloured velvet box. She instantly guessed it would contain an engagement ring, but when he lifted the lid, and she saw what was inside, she almost melted into a puddle. It was too beautiful.

  A perfect round solitaire, i
n a four claw setting, she couldn’t even guess what size the ring must be. Four carats? Five? But it was the band that caught her eye. The platinum gold was ingrained with swirls of detail. It looked old.

  “It was my mother’s,” he said quietly. “She rarely wore it, but I knew you would love it.”

  “I do,” she said.

  “Miranda,” he bent to one knee, and she couldn’t help thinking what a rare occurrence it must be for the Sheikh Radiz Zamin to bow before anyone. “I did not intend to marry for many years. I did not expect to marry a woman like you; someone I love and admire, and desire desperately. When I met you, I felt our connection, and I’ve never lost that sense of kismet. You and I are two halves of a whole, and I believe we will be happiest travelling this life together. In marrying me, you will gain a servant. A man devoted to you for the rest of your life, committed to making you as happy as you can possibly be. A man who would lie down his life to save yours.”

  Miranda shook her head. “Is that a proposal?” She asked teasingly, for the beautiful speech and declarations of marriage had not included a question.

  “Yes.”

  She laughed, and the look of stressed impatience on his face was enough to convince her to let him off the hook. “Then my answer is yes.”

  He hadn’t realised until then how worried he’d been. How uncertain and hopeful. “Thank All That is Good in this World and Beyond It,” he murmured the ancient Fasiyan prayer as he slipped the ring onto her finger. “And thank you, for being so full of forgiveness even when I don’t deserve it.”

  “Stop talking like that, Radiz. We need to clear this up once and for all. When you walked into that prison cell, I was afraid for my life, scared of what I’d done and what might happen to me, and all I could think about was ripping your clothes off you.” She laughed at the memory now, for how ridiculous it seemed. “I was as, eager, shall we say? To make the deal we had. I would have agreed to almost anything if it led to us being together.”

  He shook his head. “But you were terrified. I took advantage of your fear.”

  “No.” She knelt down, so that she could press her lips to his. “That’s the strange thing. I was never afraid. At least not of you. Only of how much I loved you. But not you yourself. From the moment you appeared I felt safe.”

  He arched a brow, his surprise obvious. “Did you really, little one?”

  “Yes. It was as though as I just knew that you would keep me safe.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight. “I want you to feel that forever.”

  She grinned. “And I will.”

  Tom was nervous. His palms were sweaty, his mind was blank, and his mouth was dry. His beautiful partner stood beside him, serene and calm, and he wanted to jump up and down a thousand times.

  “Relax, Tom. He’s not so bad, really.”

  He shook his head in sheer frustration. “You’ve spent the last eighteen months telling me what a dictatorial grump your brother is, and now you’re full of praise for the man.”

  She smiled at him knowingly. “He’s changed.”

  “Really?” Tom arched a brow, his expression sceptical. “Here. Take this before I drop it.” He handed Hakim to Steph, who laughed.

  “This is a He, stop being such a twit.”

  “I can’t help it. I’m really, really, totally nervous.”

  The elevator doors pinged open and she reached down and squeezed his hand, keeping Hakim propped in the crook of her arm. “You’re a twit that I love. He knows that, and he won’t risk upsetting me. So just… relax. Be yourself. Only maybe don’t sing. Not on the first encounter.”

  Tom relaxed a little, but not enough. When they arrived at the door to the Sheikh’s hotel, his hands were drenched. “Lord, I think I’m about to pass out.”

  “You’re hilarious,” Steph commented drily, raising a hand and knocking on the door.

  Miranda pulled it inwards, and to Steph’s pleasure, an enormous smile was on her face. Steph put her free arm around her best friend’s shoulders. “I’m so glad to see you, Mirry. And you look happy. Did he fix everything?”

  Miranda smiled like the cat who’d got the cream. “Come inside, guys. And pass me this beautiful bundle.” She took baby Hakim and lifted him to her face. She nuzzled his cheek and breathed in his sweet, powdery fragrance. “Oh, I love you, baby boy,” she whispered in his ear. The secret knowledge she had that he was going to officially become her nephew made her heart swell with love and delight. She placed him into the highchair Radiz had organised and strapped him in tight. It was a little roomy for him, so she swiped a sofa off the cushion and tucked it behind him, to give him more comfort and support.

  “Radiz is just finishing some business in the study. Tom, you look like you could use a wine.”

  “A scotch more like,” he whispered. “What’s he like, Mirry?”

  She smiled at him, her lips bright red, her eyes a sparkling blue. “He’s… amazing. But I suspect I’m biased.”

  She walked into the kitchen as though her feet were drifting on clouds. “He’s brought some of the palace champagne,” Miranda commented, as she opened the hotel fridge.

  “Almost like he expects to be celebrating,” Steph commented drily, coming up behind her best friend and reaching for her hand. She lifted the glimmering rock to her face and squealed.

  Miranda lifted a finger to her lips in a gesture of shush. “We were going to tell you together.”

  “Oh, Mirry. This was my mother’s,” Steph said quietly, running a fingertip over the cold, smooth surface of the ring. “I remember her wearing it when I was young.”

  “I know.” Miranda licked her lower lip nervously. “Do you mind, Steph?”

  “Mind?” She frowned. “I think it’s utterly wonderful. And I know my mother would agree. Of all the women in all the world, I think you might be the only one capable of bringing my brother to his knees.”

  “She has already done that, Mastepha,” Radiz appeared in the kitchen, his demeanour one of such happiness that it stole Miranda’s breath. “And then some.”

  Miranda flushed, and crossed to him, as if pulled by magnetic force. She lifted on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “Be nice to Tom. He’s freaking out.”

  Radiz leaned down and replied, “Only to please you, little one.” He turned his attention to the man who would be his brother-in-law. “We need to talk, Tom.”

  Tom sent Steph a look of total panic, but she shook her head. “You’ll be fine. He won’t kill you.” As Tom fell reluctantly into step behind Radiz, Steph turned to Miranda. “He has security agents for that.” They burst out laughing, earning a look of reproach from Radiz as he led Tom through to his study.

  “Your Highness,” Tom mumbled anxiously, “I have to tell you that even if you disapprove of our decisions, I will fight you to the ends of the earth to keep my family together. Your sister is the love of my life and our baby means the world to me. I know you probably don’t approve, and that you might want to take them back to Fasiya, but I won’t let you. I won’t.” He frowned, and fidgeted his hands together. “Of course, I don’t know exactly how I’d stop you, actually, but the point is, I would.”

  Radiz looked bemusedly at the younger man. “Sit.”

  Tom did, only because he thought his legs might give out beneath him.

  “I have no intention of taking my sister away from you. I do not approve of the clandestine nature of your relationship --,”

  “You and me both,” Tom interjected. “But Stephie was adamant that she wanted to keep things private. And I understand that. She grew up in the spotlight, and here, with me, she got to be sort of anonymous.”

  Radiz held up a hand to encourage Tom’s silence. “Listen, Tom,” he said, leaning forward in his chair when Tom finally stopped jabbering. “I would like to consider you a friend, one day. But you will need to discover a greater economy of words.”

  Tom’s cheeks flushed. “I’m not usually so talkative. I’m nervo
us.”

  “Yes.” Radiz nodded. “As you should be. Conceiving a child with my sister, without doing her the honour of marriage--,”

  “I beg your pardon, Radiz, but I have pleaded with Steph to marry me. She’s stubborn. She’s got it into her head that it’s old fashioned and unnecessary.”

  “I see,” Radiz smiled at the poor man, his opinion of him improving by the minute.

  “I know you mustn’t think much of me,” Tom said, lowering his gaze. “The truth is, I’m a humble guy. I fell in love with Steph before I knew she was a goddamned princess. She did her best to hide it. She and Mirry came to the pub just about every day, and I only cottoned on after two weeks that neither of them ever drank anything.” His smile was loaded with happy reminiscing. “But I do love her. I want the best for her. And I know being estranged from you makes her miserable.”

  “As it does me,” Radiz agreed swiftly. “Tell me, Tom, is working in a pub what you have always wanted in life?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Call me Rad,” The Sheikh interjected.

  “Rad,” Tom nodded. “My father was a wine maker in the South of France. He lost his job during the last recession, and we moved to London because my mum’s a teacher. I studying winemaking, and would have gone to Spain or France to look for a position, except that then… well, I met Steph.”

  “I see,” Radiz nodded.

  When Tom looked at the Sheikh, he was surprised to see a beaming smile coming back at him. “What is it?”

  “Tom, it’s a little known fact that Fasiya has an exceptional grape growing region. My palace oversees one of the most prestigious wineries in the area. Perhaps we can find a way for you to pursue your two great loves after all?”

  Epilogue

  “I can’t believe he did this,” Miranda whispered, turning her enormous blue eyes to Steph’s face. She didn’t know what to say, but her expression spoke volumes.

  “Can’t you?” Steph teased, linking an arm through her best friend’s. Beyond them, a small city of elegant marquees had been established, but they were well outside the old city’s wall. Neman was as it had long been. Bathed in dusk light, the gently decaying walls were golden and peach, made even more so by the thousands of candles that had been lit in windows and doorways. Strung from building to building were tiny fairy lights, just starting to shimmer as the dusk turned to night. Nocturnal scented jasmine trailed over the walls of the city, spreading green leaves and fragrance over the old town.