The Sheik's Mistress

by Brittany Young

  Henry had gone straight to New York to file his story and meet with his editors before taking a much needed vacation—part of it here with her. He thought she needed the company.

  Jensen heard the key in the lock, but didn’t move.

  “Hello?” called a voice.

  “I’m in the living room, Mrs. Sherman,” she called back.

  Suddenly her dog, a Lab-setter mix, came racing to her, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped on her with his front paws and tried to lick her anywhere there was exposed flesh.

  Jensen laughed for the first time in days and wrapped her arms around her dog’s neck. “Oh, Toby, I’ve missed you.”

  “He’s missed you, too, Jen,” said the housekeeper as she stood in the doorway. “Mind if I turn on a light?”

  “Go ahead.”

  She turned on a corner lamp, allowing some gentle light. “How’s Henry?”

  “Just fine. He asked to be remembered to you, and to warn you that he’ll be here in a few days and fully expects to enjoy some of your apple pie.”

  “I’ll make plenty.” She took the chair across from Jensen and looked at her closely. “You look dreadful.”

  Jensen gazed back at her with tired green eyes. “I feel worse than I look. What does that tell you?”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Sudden tears filled Jensen’s eyes. She dashed them angrily away with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I promised myself I was through crying. I’ve done enough to last a lifetime.”

  “What happened?”

  Jensen scratched the top of Toby’s head. “Well, I guess you could say that I just lived out one of my romance novels, but there’s no happy ending this time.”

  “Of course there’s a happy ending. Otherwise it’s not a proper romance.”

  “What would you call it when the man you love more than life itself marries another woman.”

  Mrs. Sherman didn’t know what to say.

  “Pretty shocking, isn’t it?”

  “But why?”

  “Because honor demands it, and he is nothing if not an honorable man. They’re the worst kind, you know. Always doing the right thing. Or trying to. Bastards.”

  “Oh, my dear, you don’t mean that.”

  Jensen leaned her head back against the couch. “No, of course not. I don’t know what to do. I literally don’t know what to do. I’m numb inside. I just want to curl up in my bed and stay there.”

  “It’ll pass.”

  She turned her head to look at the woman who had taken such good care of her for more years than Jensen could remember. “No, it won’t, Mrs. Sherman. It will never pass. And that’s what makes this so hard. I know this ache inside me is never, ever going to go away, and I haven’t figured out how to live with its constant, unending pressure weighing down every breath I take.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, dear.” The woman couldn’t have loved Jensen more if she’d been her daughter, and she felt completely helpless in the face of this emotion.

  Jensen put the heels of her hands against her eyes and held them there. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired.”

  “Let’s get you to bed, then. You go upstairs and get yourself ready and I’ll fix you a little warm milk.”

  Jensen didn’t say anything for a moment. She didn’t want Mrs. Sherman to be upset. Taking her hands away from her eyes, she managed a small smile. “Jet lag is a terrible thing. Just ignore me. What are you doing up at this hour, anyway?”

  “Your travel agent called with your schedule. I was waiting up for you.”

  Jensen rose, then leaned over and kissed the housekeeper on the cheek. “You are the dearest woman in the world, and I appreciate your care of me. But I don’t want any warm milk. I just want my bed. You go on back home to Mr. Sherman where you belong.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Very. I’m going to be sound asleep in about five minutes.”

  “I can stay in the guest room if you like.”

  This time Jensen hugged her. “No. Go home. I’ll see you in the morning. Late morning. I plan on sleeping in.”

  The woman walked toward the door, still seemingly uncertain.

  Jensen managed a bigger smile. “Go on. I’m fine.”

  When she’d gone, Jensen dragged herself upstairs to her bedroom. Toby jumped up and lay curled at the foot of the mattress. Jensen rested her cheek against the top of the dog’s head, then lay across the bed, fully clothed, shoes still on.

  Within minutes, she was sound asleep.

  Michael conducted his business. It was what saved his sanity. As long as he was handling business, he couldn’t think about Jensen.

  He couldn’t remember.

  But he still had to deal with nights.

  How he hated the darkness.

  Sleep was difficult most nights. At other times it was impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Jensen.

  Every time he saw the empty space beside him in his bed, he thought of making love to her; or just holding her.

  When he did manage to sleep, he’d reach out for her only to find no one there.

  Ali watched him and felt helpless.

  Michael did all that was expected of him. More. He went where he was supposed to, met with the dignitaries he had appointments with, said the right things, wrote the right letters—but it was as though he was in a constant state of grieving and there was nothing that could relieve it. Not for a single moment.

  He hadn’t smiled since Jensen had left.

  The light had gone from his eyes.

  There was even some gray in his hair that hadn’t been there before. It was distinguished looking, but he was far too young to have it.

  One day, Ali knocked on Michael’s office door and walked in.

  Michael looked up from what he was doing.

  “I think it’s time for a trip to the desert, Your Highness.”

  “I appreciate the thought, Ali, but there’s too much to be done.”

  “Please, take my advice on this. I have the horses ready and the gear packed. Your calendar is clear. All that’s needed is you.”

  Michael looked at his desk. “Give me an hour.”

  Ali inclined his head. “Yes, sir. I’ll be waiting.”

  Michael finished what he was doing, changed into desert clothes and went out to find Ali standing by with two horses.

  Without speaking, Michael climbed on his and the two men took off at full gallop, riding for hours in the early evening and stopping only to water the horses.

  When they arrived at their destination—the tent where he’d spent the night with Jensen—Michael dismounted, handed the reins to Ali and climbed up the dune to sit with his legs crossed and watch while the sun set over the sand.

  When Ali had finished rubbing down the horses and getting them ready for the night, he climbed the dune and sat beside Michael. Their relationship was abnormally informal since Jensen had come into their lives.

  And left.

  “You’re not taking care of yourself,” said Ali.

  “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Is it your Jensen?”

  Michael didn’t say anything for a moment. “Every day without her is like a new torture.”

  “Then you need to be with her.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I didn’t say you had to marry her.”

  “That’s what she said. In fact, she offered to be my mistress. Even to bear my children.”

  “And you sent her away?”

  “I couldn’t do that to her.”

  “Do you think she’s any happier than you are at this moment?”

  “No,” Michael said. “I think we are probably very much equal in our misery.”

  “Then what’s the point?”

  “You met her, Ali. You got to know her. This isn’t the kind of woman who spends her life as some man’s mistress.”

  “Not under ordinary circumstances. But she happened to fall in love wi
th you. And you are not just some man. You would marry her if you could, but you can’t. She knows this and still she wants to be with you. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  “Do you think it was easy for me to send her away?”

  “No. I saw your face when you were told she’d gone. I think it was one of the most difficult things you’ve ever done. And I think it was a mistake.”

  Michael let out a long breath.

  “I saw her face, too. Something you did not.”

  Michael said nothing.

  “I think it was a mistake. If ever two people were meant to be together, it’s you and Jensen. However you have to manage it. However few the days or short the hours, you need each other to survive. I can see that, and I’m not all that observant when it comes to human nature. Surely you must feel it.”

  “I die a little inside every day that I’m not with her,” Michael said.

  “Then set aside everything you think you believe to be true, everything you think is right and proper, and know that the only thing that matters is being with this woman.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “You think you’re making a great sacrifice for her by not allowing her to be your mistress. You’re keeping your honor and allowing her to keep hers. But what if the only thing that’s being sacrificed is Jensen herself? How can you want her to suffer the way you are? If there’s a way for you to both be happy—at least some of the time—then don’t you owe it to her as well as to yourself to seize the opportunity?”

  Ali rose from the sand.

  “I’ve said my piece. Now, I’ll leave you with your thoughts.”

  “Ali?”

  “Yes, Your Highness?”

  “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

  “I try to be. But you make it difficult at times.”

  A corner of Michael’s mouth lifted. “She hates the desert, you know.”

  “It’s a difficult adjustment for anyone.” Ali touched his king’s shoulder. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Ali.”

  As the silence of the desert fell around him, Michael stayed where he was and stared at the night sky with its dusting of stars.

  Jensen.

  Jensen stared at her computer screen.

  Nothing.

  There wasn’t a story in her.

  Not a chapter.

  Not a paragraph.

  Not a sentence.

  It was as though every emotion had been wrung from her.

  Mrs. Sherman came in with a plateful of cookies and a glass of milk. “Time for a break.”

  Jensen looked at the plate and shook her head. “I feel like I’m twelve again.”

  “You might as well be, the way you’ve been mooning around here, not writing, not eating. You’re growing thinner by the day. You need to get some calories into yourself.”

  “I eat.”

  “When I force you.”

  Jensen took a cookie from the plate and took a bite. “See?”

  “Eat the whole thing and drink the milk.”

  “Then will you leave me alone?” Jensen asked, a kind edge to her voice.

  “For a little while.”

  Jensen took another bite of cookie and turned off her computer. “It’s no use. I have nothing to say.”

  “But you have file drawers full of ideas.”

  “I know. But I seem to have forgotten how to tell the stories. Or lost the will.”

  “You just need time.” She pressed the glass of milk into Jensen’s hand and watched while she drank it.

  Just to make the housekeeper happy, Jensen drank it all and handed her back the glass.

  “Another cookie?” asked Mrs. Sherman as she offered the plate. “They’re your favorite.”

  Jensen took another.

  “Good girl. You’ll see. Everything will be fine in no time.”

  Mrs. Sherman was convinced that cookies and milk could fix anything, no matter how old you were.

  As soon as she’d gone, Jensen set the cookie on her desk and walked to the window. It was a beautiful fall day. Too beautiful to be sitting in her office.

  Not bothering with a sweater or jacket, Jensen left the house through the back entrance and headed into her woods, Toby by her side.

  Mrs. Sherman saw her from the kitchen window and shook her head. The girl was wasting away.

  As the housekeeper finished the dishes, there was a knock on the front door.

  She opened it, a dish towel in her hands, to find a remarkably handsome young man standing there in what was probably a hideously expensive suit. “Is Jensen here?”

  Mrs. Sherman didn’t give out information to anyone unless there was a good reason. “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m Michael Hassan.”

  She suddenly clutched his arm. “You’re her Michael?”

  “Is she here?”

  “She went for a walk in the woods. You can catch her if you walk fast.”

  “What direction?” asked Michael.

  The housekeeper pointed. “She usually makes for a small pond about a mile in.”

  “Thank you.” He indicated the man behind him. It was the fist time the housekeeper had noticed him. “This is Ali, my bodyguard. Would you mind if he waited for me in the house?”

  Mrs. Sherman looked him up and down. “You’re a pretty scary looking fellow,” she said bluntly.

  Ali said nothing.

  “He’ll grow on you,” said Michael.

  She gave him another once-over. “I suppose you can wait inside, but don’t be talking to me. I have work to do.”

  Ali took up a stance inside the front door, his legs apart, his arms behind his back and his sword very much in evidence.

  Michael took off down the stairs and ran into the woods after Jensen.

  He stopped once and called her name, but there was no answer.

  He walked quickly, brightly colored leaves crunching under his feet, the fall sunlight creating a dappled effect on the forest floor.

  And then he saw her.

  She had stopped by the pond and lain down in the leaves, her hands behind her head.

  Toby saw Michael first and ran over to him, tail wagging. Michael ran his hand over the dog’s back, but his focus was Jensen.

  She didn’t see him until he was perhaps five feet away. And even then she didn’t believe it. She just stared at him, then raised up on her elbows. “Michael?”

  He knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms with a groan that came from someplace deep within. Jensen wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck—that wonderful smelling neck—afraid to speak for fear that he’d disappear.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever get here,” he said as he held her away and looked into her eyes.

  “Why are you?”

  “I can’t breathe without you.”

  Jensen’s eyes filled with tears as she reached out and touched the gray in his hair. “Look at you.”

  “I want you in my life, Jensen. Whatever the terms. If you can live with them, I can.”

  “You mean I’m going to be a sheik’s mistress?”

  “I’d rather have you as my wife, but since that’s not possible, mistress is the best I can do.”

  Jensen wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t you know that I’ll take you any way I can get you?”

  “That’s what Ali said.”

  “He’s a wise man. I always suspected as much.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Not being with you hurts me. Not seeing you or talking to you hurts me. If I can just have you sometimes, I can live with the pain the rest of the time.”

  Michael touched her hair. “You may be stronger than I am.”

  She pulled him down onto the carpet of leaves with her. “There’s no one around. Even Toby’s disappeared.”

  “Toby?”

  “My dog.”

  Michael unzipped his trousers while Jensen pulled down her jeans. A moment
later Michael disappeared inside her. They both climaxed almost instantly and with ferocious intensity.

  Michael wrapped her in his arms and held her as close as a man can hold a woman.

  “How long do I have you for?” she asked.

  “I leave tomorrow afternoon. My wedding is in three days.”

  The last words were like a knife, but she handled them. “Then let’s not waste a single moment. I want to know every thought you’ve had since I left you, everything you’ve done, every word you’ve uttered...”

  “You don’t ask much, do you?”

  “Let’s go back to the house.”

  “Ali is there with your housekeeper.”

  Jensen couldn’t help smiling as she pulled up her jeans. “Ali and Mrs. Sherman. Now there’s an interesting combination.”

  “When I left them, Mrs. Sherman appeared to have the upper hand.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “Where can we go to be alone? I don’t want to share you with anyone for the short time I’m going to be here,” Michael said.

  “I’ll send Mrs. Sherman home early, and Ali can stay in the guest house. It’s not very big, but it’s comfortable. It’s where Henry stays when he visits.”

  Michael looked at her and smiled.

  “What?”

  “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me just to look at you.”

  Jensen got to her feet and held out her hand to pull Michael to his. They walked back to the house hand in hand, happy at last, Toby running ahead of them.

  When they got to the house, Mrs. Sherman was in the kitchen finishing up. Ali was in the living room eating cookies and drinking milk. Without thinking about protocol, she ran across the room to him and flung herself into his arms.

  Ali folded her into them and hugged her. “It’s nice to see you, miss.”

  “And you,” Jensen said as she pulled away and looked into his eyes. “I understand I owe you thanks for this.”

  “He would have made the right decision eventually. I only helped him along.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  Jensen was glowing as she walked into the kitchen and the housekeeper couldn’t help but smile. “Well,” she said, “this is a change of circumstance.”

  “You’ll be happy to know, Mrs. Sherman,” said Jensen, “that you have off until the day after tomorrow. I’d appreciate it if you’d show Ali to the guest house on your way out and make sure he has everything he needs to last him until tomorrow afternoon.”