The Sheik's Mistress

by Brittany Young

  No room at all.

  When Jensen awoke, it was just beginning to get light outside. She lay still, aware that Michael was gone without looking.

  Last night had been a revelation. Never before had she felt so completely safe as when he lay beside her.

  She was in the best of hands, and if anyone could find Henry, it was Michael.

  She turned her head and looked at the indentation on the pillow where his head had lain so close to hers.

  Moving slightly, she rested her cheek on it and took a long, deep breath.

  It smelled like him; clean and manly.

  Closing her eyes, she took another deep breath and slowly let it out. Book after book, she’d created the perfect fictional man.

  But Michael wasn’t fiction. He was very real, very attractive—and very unavailable.

  Opening her eyes, Jensen lay still for a moment before rising. Keeping an eye out for snakes, she sponged herself off and dressed for the day, then tossed her things into her pack and walked out of the tent with it slung over her shoulder.

  She stopped suddenly at the sight of Michael standing a few feet away, staring out at the desert.

  His long, dark hair was still wet from his own sponge bath. He was naked from the waist up, his bronzed skin almost glowing in the early-morning light.

  Her gaze moved up his muscled back to his powerful shoulders and arms and rested there.

  “You’re up,” he said without turning around.

  Jensen moved to stand beside him. “How did you know I was behind you?”

  “I think there are some people in this world that others are simply aware of.”

  “In general terms?”

  “Oh, no,” he said quietly. “In very specific terms.” He turned his head and looked at her for a long moment. “I just know where you are without having to see you.”

  Their gazes locked. It was Jensen who looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. “What time is it?”

  “Early. I was just coming to wake you.”

  Again she looked at him. Things had changed between them since their first meeting. In fact, things had changed dramatically since last night. They were both aware of each other in new ways.

  Ways they shouldn’t be.

  Ways they needed to avoid.

  But this time when their gazes locked, Jensen didn’t look away; didn’t want to.

  Michael’s gaze moved over her face feature by feature. “Ali has the animals ready.”

  “What about the tent?”

  “It stays where it is. It’s a tent, but it’s a permanent desert lodging nonetheless.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Do you have your things?”

  She indicated her backpack. “Everything I need.”

  Ali arrived at that moment, his long legs astride one horse and leading the other as well as the camel.

  Michael took the pack from Jensen and handed it to Ali, then helped her onto his horse. After sliding a white robe on over his head, he climbed up behind her, their bodies touching intimately.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked as his arms went around her and the horse started forward.

  Jensen closed her eyes, her body a mass of sensation as her back was pressed against his chest and his strong thighs cupped hers. She could barely form a coherent thought. “I dreamed a lot,” she finally managed to say—and then couldn’t shut up. “I don’t usually. At least, if I do, I don’t remember them in the morning.”

  “What kind of dreams?”

  She turned her head to look at him for a moment and he saw the color rise in her cheeks as she remembered what she thought was a dream of touching him; kissing him.

  Michael knew her thoughts exactly.

  “Nothing that would interest you,” she said firmly.

  “You’d be surprised,” he said softly against her ear.

  Her heart hammered against her breast as she tried desperately to focus on something other than the man whose body was pressed against her own.

  Chapter Six

  The trip wasn’t so bad at first. The desert at dawn wasn’t exactly cool, but it was manageable.

  But by the time the relentless sun had fully risen, Jensen felt as though her flesh was going to melt. The horse beneath her; Michael’s chest behind her; pure heat.

  She refused to complain, though. Michael was in the same heat she was in and he was handling it, so she could, too.

  And she just knew Ali was waiting for her to fold. Never.

  Hours passed with frequent rest and water stops for the horses. They passed very few other people, and those were either riding or leading camels.

  Finally there appeared in the wavery distance a long wall. “Is that your home?” asked Jensen hopefully.

  “Yes. We’ll be there in half an hour.”

  Okay, Jensen thought. She could make it for half half an hour. She could survive anything for half an hour.

  She watched as they closed in on the wall. It was the color of the sand, but she could see that it was made from great blocks of stone. Beyond the wall rose a palace that was built long and low to the ground except for a few sections that towered three stories.

  “The wall,” said Michael, “is five hundred years old. Parts of the palace are that old as well, but most of it has been renovated in the past several decades.”

  “Why is it so far away from any city?”

  “It was a fortress in the old days that stood up against invading tribes. Today, it’s where we go to get away from everyday things. Our main public home is less than two miles from the hotel where you stayed.”

  “How many homes do you have?”

  “A few, but don’t get excited. We aren’t as rich as the Gulf Arabs. We don’t have oil here. We mine some minerals and other things.”

  “Do you have your own army?”

  “Of course. And air force. Both small but effective.”

  “You were in the army once, weren’t you? I seem to remember Henry saying something about that.”

  “My brother was in the army. I was in the air force.”

  “Let me guess,” said Jensen. “You were a pilot.”

  “Yes.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him and he smiled at her. Jensen felt as though she’d been given a gift because something told her that this was a man who rarely smiled any longer.

  They rode through an open gate in the wall and up to two great, arched, ornately carved wooden doors.

  Men appeared from seemingly nowhere to take the horses and camel, completely avoiding looking at Jensen by keeping their eyes lowered to the ground.

  She waited for Michael to finish speaking with one of the men and then the two of them, with Ali close behind, walked into the palace.

  There was a sudden explosion of color everywhere, from the tiles on the floor to the vaulted and arched ceilings that had been painted like the Sistine Chapel.

  “This is the great hall,” said Michael. “The paintings you’re looking at were done about two hundred years ago. If you go left, you enter the men’s quarters. Right is the women’s.” With his hand in the middle of her back, he steered her toward the right, through another elegant hallway.

  “Are you allowed in here?” asked Jensen.

  “Of course. But you’re not allowed to visit the men’s side unless you’re specifically invited.”

  Jensen shook her head, but she didn’t say anything.

  He opened a door into a brightly lit room full of plants with a small fountain in the middle. The floor was marble and beautiful tapestries hung from the walls.

  Huge doors opened into a courtyard that had grass and flowers and another, larger fountain. Two women, one in a modern dress and one in head to toe elaborate robes were seated under a tree reading.

  “Nira,” said Michael.

  Both women looked up.

  “Come here, please.”

  The woman in the dress set her book aside and crossed the courtyard to them. As Jensen watc
hed, she saw Michael and the other woman make very brief eye contact before the woman lowered her lids. Michael inclined his head and the woman did likewise.

  “Jensen O’Hara, this is my sister, Nira.”

  Jensen smiled. Nira didn’t. “O’Hara?” she said. “Are you related to Henry?”

  “I’m his sister.”

  “Is Henry with you?”

  “No,” said Jensen. “He’s missing. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Missing? What do you mean, missing?”

  “He disappeared from Sumaru,” Jensen said. “Michael is going to help me find him.”

  “Don’t ask a lot of questions, Nira,” Michael said. “We have a lot to do and not much time to do it in. I need you to take Jensen under your wing for a night. Show her how to dress and behave like a proper Sumaruan woman. Tomorrow I’m taking her to Adjani. We think Henry might be there.”

  Nira looked at her brother in alarm. “Adjani? She has no place there. You have no place there, either. What are you thinking?”

  “You forget yourself, Nira,” said her brother in a tone that brooked no argument. “You will do as I ask and help Jensen.”

  Nira was clearly angry, but she stopped arguing and nodded.

  Michael turned toward Jensen. “Please listen carefully to whatever Nira tells you. Your life might depend upon it.”

  “Michael, I’ve been thinking.”

  “That usually means trouble.”

  “You really are a chauvinist, aren’t you?”

  “That has nothing to do with chauvinism. It has everything to do with what’s happened since we met.”

  “I’ll admit that there have been some problems...”

  Michael lifted a dark brow.

  Jensen gave him a withering look. “Do you want to hear my idea?”

  “You’re going to tell me whether I want to or not.”

  The look turned into a smile. “It’s as though you’ve known me all my life.”

  “Come on. Out with it.”

  “Taking me to Adjani is full of problems,” she said.

  “True.”

  “I won’t be able to go anywhere alone, or go into any of the same places as men. That means I’ll be completely dependent on you for everything.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Michael.

  “But that all changes if I go as a man instead of a woman.”

  He gave her a single Clint Eastwood-like blink. “A man?”

  “Exactly. As a woman, I’m powerless. As a man, I’m on an equal footing with you.”

  Michael reached out and touched her cheek then let his hand fall away. “By what magic am I to transform these delicate features into those of a man?” His gaze moved down her body, but not in an offensive way. “Not to mention the rest of you.”

  “I won’t wear any makeup.”

  “You aren’t wearing any now and, believe me, you don’t look anything like a man.”

  Nira looked from Michael to Jensen and back to her brother. What was going on here?

  “It’s not a bad idea, though,” Michael said. “You’d be less conspicuous as a man. And you’d probably be safer. What do you think, Nira? Can you make her look like a man?”

  She walked around Jensen, giving her the once-over and stopping in front of her, arms crossed. “As far as her figure, we can bind her so that she isn’t as curved. The robes will cover the rest. And we can artificially darken her skin. If she wears the cloth of the headdress forward, it will cover her profile. And her hair, of course, will be hidden.”

  Michael shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I do,” said Nira. “Let the women handle this.” She gave Michael a little shove. “Leave us now. We have a lot of work to do and only one night to do it in.”

  He turned back to Jensen. “We leave early, by car.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  He leaned over and kissed the top of his sister’s head. “Thank you, Nira.” Then he looked at the woman across the way and inclined his head again before leaving.

  “Who is she?” asked Jensen, assuming the woman was another sister.

  “Ayalah, Michael’s fiancée.”

  Jensen looked at Nira in surprise. “His fiancée? Then why did they greet each other so coolly?”

  “Come,” said Nira as she stook Jensen’s arm and led her into the palace. “It’s a long and unhappy story. I’ll tell you when you’ve finished bathing.”

  She signaled some women who were standing nearby and spoke to them in Arabic. They instantly went in separate directions while Nira took Jensen to a large tiled room with a sunken mosaic bath large enough to hold four people.

  One of the women, who had followed them, turned on a faucet and water began spilling into the tub. Another woman came in and added a jasmine fragrance from a glass pitcher.

  “I’ll see you shortly,” said Nira. “Enjoy your bath. It’s the last one you’ll be having until you return.”

  When Nira had gone, one of the women held up a bright red cloth while the other helped Jensen out of her clothes. Jensen tried to send them away, but she spoke no Arabic and they spoke no English.

  Jensen had no choice but to set aside her natural modesty. Taking the two steps down into the bath, she sank into the warm, fragrant water with a sigh of pleasure that spread through her entire body. She ducked her head in the water, wetting her face and hair.

  A woman knelt behind Jensen above the bath and soaped her hair, then poured pitcher after pitcher of water over it until all of the soap was gone.

  Once she was out of the bath, she was wrapped in yards of cloth and placed on a cushion while her hair was brushed out. The cloth was then taken away and replaced by a robe.

  Nira walked in just as Jensen finished. “All clean,” she said with satisfaction. “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “Starving!”

  Nira took Jensen’s hand and led her to a small room with a low table set with at least a dozen small bowls, each holding some delicacy. They sat on cushions across from each other. “Please,” said Nira, “enjoy. If you want anything else, you have but to ask.”

  “What about Ayalah?”

  “She’s not permitted to socialize at the moment.”

  “Oh. I thought perhaps she was with Michael.”

  “Heavens no.”

  “Why do you say it like that? If they’re engaged, it would be only natural.”

  “They’ve never spoken.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She was originally engaged to our older brother. It was not a love match, but a matter of politics.” Nira’s eyes filled with a sudden sorrow. “As you may know, he was killed recently and now it falls upon Michael to marry her.”

  Jensen couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You can’t mean it. That’s barbaric.”

  Nira shrugged. “Perhaps, but that’s the way it is. Michael understands his duty and he is the kind of man who will always do the honorable thing.” She looked at Jensen for a long moment. “Regardless of what his own desires might be.”

  “How will he ever find happiness?”

  “There are options for men in Michael’s position. If he finds himself in love with a woman, he can take her for his mistress and have children with her. They won’t be in the line of succession, but they would certainly be well cared for.”

  “What kind of woman would be willing to do that? If one loves a man, she loves him completely. Sharing him with another woman would be absolutely unthinkable.”

  “What if there were no other way to be with him?”

  “But there would have to be.”

  Nira shook her head. “Whoever falls in love with Michael must be willing to accept what he is able to offer or will have to stay out of his life altogether.”

  “What about his fiancée? Doesn’t she have any say in her own future?”

  “None at all.”

  “I don’t understand this.”

  “You used to have arranged marriages
in America. In some cases, you still do. This is no different.”

  “Times have changed.”

  “Not here. Not for us.”

  “But your mother was American. She couldn’t have approved of marrying her sons to women they don’t love.”

  “She didn’t. But she didn’t live long enough to bring about any real change. And my father didn’t have the strength to do it without her by his side.”

  “And you, Nira? Will the same thing happen to you? Will you be married off to some man you don’t love?”

  “Anything is possible, but I don’t think so. It falls upon Michael to make those decisions for his family now, and he would never ask me to marry where there was no love. Unfortunately, there’s nothing he can do to save himself. Or his fiancée for that matter.”

  Jensen’s appetite had deserted her completely. “Perhaps they’ll fall in love after their marriage.”

  “That sometimes happens,” said Nira. “She’s certainly a nice enough sort of woman. And who wouldn’t fall in love with Michael? He’s the best of men.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “He seems to be. How did your father manage to break ranks and marry an American?”

  “Like Michael, he was the younger son. He married our mother before becoming king.”

  “I see.”

  “Had he been the older son, or become king before marriage to our mother, he would have been obliged to choose someone very different for his wife.”

  “And would he have?”

  “He would have done his duty.” Nira reached out and touched Jensen’s hand. “Don’t fall in love with Michael. I can tell you now that whatever his heart urges him to do, his duty will win in the end. He will always do what’s required of him, what’s best for the country. That’s just the way he is.”

  “What makes you think I’m in danger of falling in love with your brother?” asked Jensen uneasily.

  “All one has to do is watch the way you look at him.”

  “He’s a handsome man. Any woman would enjoy looking at him.”

  “But there’s more in your eyes than simple enjoyment of an object of beauty. And there’s more in his eyes when he looks at you. I fear for both of you if you don’t stay in control of your emotions.”

  “I can’t imagine Michael out of control,” Jensen said.