Sheikh Without a Heart

by Sandra Marton

  “We have arrived, Your Highness.”

  Karim undid his seat belt and Rachel’s; he drew her to her feet. Her face was pale and his heart went out to her. Her world was about to change, too.

  Alcantar was a beautiful, proud country, but it was surely different from any place she had been before.

  And he, once he stepped from the plane, would be different, too.

  Perhaps he should have warned her of that, he thought as they reached the door and the steps that led down from the jet.

  Too late.

  He heard her whispered “Oh!” when she saw the convoy of white Bentleys flying the falcon flag of Alcantar, the uniformed honor guard standing at attention, the pomp and circumstance that awaited them.

  “Karim,” she whispered, “I don’t know if I—if I—”

  He put his arm around her. It was a breach of protocol, but to hell with protocol. Rachel was what mattered.

  “You can,” he said softly.

  She leaned against him as if to draw on his strength for one brief second. Then she stood erect.

  He was right.

  She could do this.

  I can do this, Rachel thought.

  She could do anything for Karim. It was only that his titles—sheikh, prince, heir to the throne—had, until now, been nothing but words—and that she could not possibly be the perfect wife he wanted because she was a world-class liar.

  Okay.

  That was over.

  If she could do anything for the man she loved, then she could tell him the truth.

  He loved her. He understood her.

  He’d understand that lying had been her only option.

  The decision gave her the last bit of courage she needed.

  She forced a smile as he led her down the steps, kept smiling when he paused and saluted the captain of the honor guard. She kept her hand on his arm and wondered if he could feel her trembling.

  “All right, sweetheart?” he said softly once they were in the lead car, Roberta and the baby in the second.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  And thought what a really fine liar she was.

  They drove along a palm-fringed road, through a town that looked modern and prosperous, toward an ivory and gold palace that rose against a cloudless blue sky, then made their way through a golden gate, down another tree-lined road and stopped in an enormous courtyard, with the dome of the palace looming above them.

  A man in a white keffiyeh opened the door of their car and snapped to attention.

  Karim stepped out, offered his hand to Rachel. She put her icy fingers in his.

  “Everything will be fine,” he told her softly. “You’ll see.”

  Everything was fine as they walked up the palace steps, Roberta just behind them with Ethan in her arms.

  Everything was still fine as they went through its massive gold doors, down a long marble corridor that led not to the throne room but to the King’s private chambers.

  That surprised Karim. Was it a good sign that his father chose to receive them here, or was it a bad one?

  He stopped wondering once they were ushered into his father’s enormous sitting room.

  The drapes had been drawn against the afternoon sun; the King sat in an elaborate ivory and ebony chair, dark shadows clustered behind him.

  Karim could feel the tension in the air.

  He kept his arm around Rachel’s waist.

  “Father,” he said.

  The King rose to his feet.

  “We are not to be disturbed,” he snapped to the servant who’d escorted them.

  The servant bowed. The door swung shut.

  “Father,” Karim said, “this is—”

  His father held up his hand, looked from him to Rachel. There was icy fire in his eyes.

  “This is a woman who saw the perfect way to lure a fool into her bed.”

  Karim’s eyes narrowed. “Listen to me, old man—”

  “No, my son. You will do the listening.”

  As if it were a signal, a woman with long blond hair and bright blue eyes stepped out from the shadows behind him.

  Rachel’s hand flew to her throat.

  “Suki?”

  “Damned right,” Suki said sharply. “Did you really think you could get away with this, Rachel?”

  Karim looked from one woman to the other.

  “Rachel? Is this your sister?”

  Rachel swung toward him.

  “Karim.” Her voice shook. “Karim, please … I tried to tell you. I tried so hard—”

  Karim felt as if a dark pit were opening at his feet.

  “Tell me what?”

  “Really?” Suki said, her hands on her hips. “You tried to tell him? I don’t think so. I don’t think you had any intention of telling the truth, ever. I mean, you couldn’t take Rami away from me. Snagging his brother was the next best thing.”

  Karim stared at Rachel.

  “What is she talking about?”

  Rachel shook her head.

  He clasped her shoulders and drew her to her toes. “Dammit, what does she mean?”

  “What I mean,” Suki said, “is that my beloved sister worked her ass off, trying to land a guy with money. First at the casino. Then right under my nose.”

  “Suki,” Rachel whispered, “don’t—”

  “But she couldn’t. See, Rami loved me. And then he and I had a silly quarrel.” Suki pulled a tissue from the neckline of her tight pink top and dabbed her eyes. “He left me. And I was frantic. I loved him, you know? And he was the father of my baby—”

  “What?”

  “I asked her if she’d take care of Ethan while I went looking for Rami, but—”

  “Is this true?” Karim’s voice was hoarse; his eyes blazed into Rachel’s. “Ethan is your sister’s child?”

  Rachel was numb. “Karim,” she whispered. “Karim, please—”

  “Of course he’s mine,” Suki said sharply. “And you stole him.”

  Even in her despair, Rachel wondered why only she could see the glint of malice in her sister’s eyes.

  “I didn’t steal him. You know that. You abandoned him—”

  “You mean I trusted you to take care of him while I tried to find work.” Suki looked at Karim. “See, after your brother left me—well, I was broke. I couldn’t find a job in Vegas. Man, I was desperate. I asked Rachel to take care of Ethan for a while, just for a while, and I went to Los Angeles and finally got hired—”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Rachel said desperately.

  “I sent her money each week but she always wanted more. And then she saw her chance. Rami’s brother—you, Prince Karim—turned up, and you was rich—even richer than Rami—”

  “No,” Rachel said in a thin voice. “Suki, don’t do this! I beg you—”

  Karim’s hands tightened on Rachel’s shoulders.

  “Tell me she’s lying,” he said in a low voice. “Tell me none of this is true, that the last weeks were not a lie—”

  “Karim,” Rachel pleaded. “Ethan is hers. But nothing else was the way she makes it sound …”

  Karim’s eyes filled with pain. He lifted his hands from her shoulders, turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

  Suki smiled in triumph. She brushed past Rachel and reached for the baby.

  “Precious boy,” she cooed, “come to your mommy.”

  Ethan gave an unhappy cry and Rachel sank to the floor, weeping.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ROBERTA hurried to Rachel and threw her arms around her.

  “Please,” she said as she helped her to her feet, “Rachel, don’t cry! Those things that woman said—”

  “What she said about Ethan is the truth,” Rachel sobbed. “She gave birth to him … But I’m the one who loves him.”

  “But the rest was lies. Anybody who knows you would know that.” The girl’s tone was bitter. “Prince Karim should have known it, too. How could he have believed those things she said?”

>   It was the question that was breaking Rachel’s heart.

  Karim had said he loved her, but he’d accepted all Suki’s horrible lies. How could he?

  The answer was simple.

  He’d accepted Suki’s story because the core of it was true.

  She, Rachel, had lied to him from the minute he’d entered her life. She’d lied about Ethan, about Rami, and now those lies had cost her everything.

  The child she loved as if he were her own.

  The man she adored.

  She’d lost them both, forever.

  Oh, she could blame Suki for it. For abandoning Ethan, for telling a twisted story to Karim and his father. She could blame Karim for turning back into the heartless man he had always been.

  But the terrible truth was that she had only herself to blame. Not just for lying. For giving in to emotions she had always known were dangerous.

  Love was the greatest lie of all.

  Lust was what drew men and women together. If only she’d remembered that instead of trying to dress it up …

  And after a lifetime of knowing.

  “Miss?”

  Rachel looked up. It was the servant who’d escorted them to this room, but he was speaking to Roberta, not to her.

  “The child …” The man cast a furtive glance at Rachel. “The child’s mother needs your help.”

  “Let her get it from someone else,” Roberta said angrily.

  Rachel touched her arm.

  “Please,” she said, “go with him. Help her.”

  “Help your sister? Are you crazy? She’s a—”

  “I know what she is,” Rachel said bitterly. “But you won’t be doing it for her. It’s for—for my baby.” Her voice broke. “He must be terrified. He’s in a strange place with a person he doesn’t—he doesn’t—” Tears flooded her eyes. She put her hand out and Roberta clasped it in hers. “Please, Roberta,” Rachel whispered. “My little boy needs you.”

  Roberta began to weep.

  “Yes. You’re right. Don’t worry. I’ll stay with him as long as they’ll let me.”

  The women hugged. Then Roberta hurried after the servant, and Rachel was alone.

  Even the King was gone.

  The huge room filled with silence.

  Rachel wiped her hands over her wet eyes, uncertain of what to do next. She had to leave this terrible place, but how?

  “Rachel.”

  That deep, familiar voice. She whirled toward the door and saw her lover. His face was cold with anger but it didn’t matter.

  She knew that she had just added one lie to another, telling herself what she’d felt for him was only lust.

  She loved him.

  And she had lost him.

  A yawning emptiness stretched ahead. Years alone, without her baby. Without the man she adored.

  He stood looking at her, arms folded, eyes narrowed. Still, hope rose within her breast, as bright as the mythical phoenix would surely have been as it rose from the flames.

  “Karim,” she said unsteadily, “Karim, please, if you’d just listen—”

  “That was my first mistake. I did listen—to you, and your lies.”

  “I shouldn’t have lied. I know that. But I never lied about us.”

  His mouth thinned.

  “There is no ‘us.’ There never was.”

  “I love you, Karim. You have to—”

  He held out his hand.

  She stared at the piece of paper in it. “What is that?”

  “A check.”

  “A check?” She looked at him blankly. “For what?”

  “For a masterful performance. Go on. Take it.”

  Rachel raised her hands in front of her, as if she were warding off something evil.

  “It’s for fifty thousand dollars. Not enough?” He shrugged. “How much, then? One hundred thousand? I warn you, Rachel, there’s a limit to my generosity.”

  “Do you really think I’d take your money?” She gave a sad, disbelieving laugh. “I don’t want money. I want—”

  “You want what you almost had,” he said coldly. “My fortune. My title. A child who is not yours.”

  Each accusation was like a blow.

  “That isn’t true!”

  “You are not a woman to speak of what is and is not true.”

  “You never loved me at all,” Rachel whispered. “If you had, you’d know I don’t want money. You’d know Suki made up that entire story. She gave birth to Ethan, yes, but she didn’t leave him with me so she could find a job. She left him because she didn’t want him. She took off without a word, and I never heard from her again.”

  “You’re fast on your feet,” Karim said tonelessly. “As I said, you give an excellent performance.”

  “Dammit, will you listen? Suki made it all up! I never tried to seduce Rami. I barely spoke to him. Yes. I lied about Ethan. But if I hadn’t you’d have taken him from me. Don’t you see that?”

  “What I see is that you’re incapable of speaking the truth.”

  Rachel stared at Karim. Before her eyes he’d become all the things she’d called him when they’d met: an egotistical, arrogant despot.

  How could she have thought she loved him?

  Losing Ethan would hurt forever.

  Losing Karim was the best thing that could have happened to her.

  “And you,” she said, “are incapable of being a man. The only thing you’re suited for is being what you are. A cold, heartless sheikh!”

  She took a deep breath. Then, head high, she brushed past him.

  “Rachel!” She didn’t answer. He cursed and went after her, dropped a heavy hand on her shoulder and swung her toward him. “No one walks away from me until I dismiss them.”

  “No,” she said quietly, “I’m sure they don’t, Your Highness.” Her chin lifted. “How would they dare?”

  “Watch what you say to me, woman.”

  “Why? What more could you do to me than you’ve already done?”

  “You are in my country now. My word is—”

  Karim fell silent.

  Sweet heaven, what was he doing? Yes, she had lied to him. Made a fool of him. Now she was turning him into the very kind of man she’d accused him of being.

  What kind of power did she have that she could reduce him to this? That she could make him lose his self-control not only in bed but out of it?

  No.

  He wasn’t going to think about her in bed. Her seeming innocence at the start, her incredible abandon once she was in his arms.

  Looking at her even now, knowing she had lied, that she had used him, he wanted her.

  And she wanted him. She had to want him. She had to—

  “I want to go back to the States.”

  “What if that isn’t what I want?”

  “Don’t you get it? I don’t give a damn what you—”

  Karim pulled her into his arms. She struggled; he caught her hands, imprisoned them against his chest.

  “Let go of me!”

  “What happened in bed,” he growled. “Was all that a lie, too?”

  She struggled harder. He thrust one hand into her hair, held her to him.

  “The sighs. The moans. The things you did, the things you begged me to do—”

  “You’re disgusting,” Rachel said, her voice shaking. “And I hate you. I hate you—”

  He kissed her. She fought and he caught her bottom lip between his teeth, sucked on the sweet flesh, heard her whimper, felt her mouth soften under his—

  “Stay in Alcantar,” he said. “You can help care for the child during the day, and at night, whenever I’m here—”

  She made a wild, terrible sound, pulled back in his arms and spat in his face.

  “Stay away from me,” she panted. “I swear, if you ever touch me again—”

  Karim thrust her from him. The boiling rage within him—at her, at himself—terrified him.

  “My pilot will fly you to New York first thing in the morning.”


  “Now,” Rachel demanded.

  “He cannot fly without sleep.”

  “That’s your problem, not mine.”

  “My problem,” Karim said coldly, “is making sure I don’t have to set eyes on you again.” He snapped his fingers; a servant came scurrying into the room, eyes averted. “Show Ms. Donnelly to her suite.”

  “I am not spending the night under the same roof as you!”

  “If you prefer the desert sand to a bed, I can see to it that you are accommodated. I’m sure the snakes and the scorpions will appreciate the company.”

  He said something in his own tongue to the servant, then strode away, his very walk as supercilious as his attitude.

  “Bastard,” she hissed.

  The look of shock on the servant’s face made her feel better.

  The thought of spending the night outdoors didn’t.

  “Where are the Sheikh’s quarters?”

  “In the north wing, madam.”

  “Fine,” she said briskly. “In that case, please show me to a suite in the south wing.”

  The servant inclined his head and set off at a brisk pace, with Rachel following after him.

  She was sure she wouldn’t sleep.

  She was too angry.

  She’d made a fool of herself, thinking she loved the Sheikh—and thinking it was all she’d done.

  Suki had always teased her.

  “You’re just not normal, Rachel,” she’d say. “Not liking guys … What, are you frigid?”

  Maybe she was. Or maybe she had been. Karim had changed that. She supposed she should be grateful to him for introducing her to the pleasures of lust, because what she’d felt for him was that.

  Pure, basic lust.

  Of course, being a strait-laced idiot, she’d had to give a purely primitive sexual need the trapping of romance.

  “Stupid,” she told herself, as she showered in a bathroom the size of a ballroom, then crept between the covers of a bed that could have slept a basketball team.

  Stupid, indeed—and how could she ever expect to sleep, knowing that about herself?

  And why was she remembering sleeping in his arms, his breath warm on the nape of her neck, his hand cupped over her breast …

  The tears came as a surprise.

  What was there to cry about?

  Not him. Never him, she thought …

  And buried her face in the pillow, to muffle her sobs.