Love-Slave to the Sheikh

by Miranda Lee

  ‘What attitude is that?’

  ‘In my country, it’s rude to ride roughshod over other people’s opinions.’

  ‘Ride roughshod?’ he repeated thoughtfully. ‘That is a good expression. I like it. But surely I have not done that. I have just asserted my authority. Ali asked me to represent him at this sale. I must do whatI think is best.’

  ‘Ali chose his staff for their expertise. He listens to them. With respect, Trevor knows more about Australian broodmares than you do. He’d be seriously put out if you totally ignored his advice.’

  ‘I see. Yes, I see. In that case, I will look at what your mare manager has marked in the catalogue. But I will not bid on them if I do not personally like them.’

  ‘Or ifI find some physical defect in them,’ Samantha added, somewhat mischievously.

  ‘I would not dream of bidding on a mare that you do not pass as one hundred per cent perfect.’

  ‘Then you won’t be bidding on much. There aren’t too many perfect broodmares around. You might have to settle for pretty good.’

  ‘I will settle for whatever you recommend, Samantha. Is that fair?’

  ‘More than fair. Okay—now, why don’t you have a look at the catalogue on the way there? It’s in the glove box. You can study what’s listed and see if there’s anything which interests you. Do you have an age that you prefer in a broodmare?’

  ‘Young,’ he said, opening the glove box and drawing out the catalogue. ‘I like them young. And I like them to have performed on the track. That ensures they have the right temperament to pass on. A lot of unraced mares are timid, as well as unsound.’

  ‘I agree with you. Nervous Nellies don’t make the best mothers.’

  ‘Nervous Nellies? I have never heard that saying before. You have a lot of interesting expressions in Australia.’

  ‘You have no idea. Most don’t bear repeating. I’m sure that you have some interesting sayings as well. In fact, you said something the other night which made us all curious.Insha something-or-other?’

  ‘Insh’ allah.’

  ‘Yes, that’s it. What does it mean?’

  ‘It means Allah willing. God willing.’

  ‘That sounds religious. You said you weren’t religious?’

  ‘I do not like man-made religions. But I believe in Allah. And in an after-life. If you don’t, everything is so pointless. Living. Dying. Especially dying.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ Samantha said. ‘My mother died shortly after I was born. It would be sad to think she isn’t somewhere, looking over me.’ Her heart lurched as it did whenever she thought of the mother she’d never known who had died so very young. ‘But let’s not talk of death. It’s a depressing subject. We have a lovely day ahead of us, doing what we both like doing best.

  ‘Looking at horses,’ she added, when he shot her a quizzical glance.

  He smiled. ‘Already you know me well.’

  ‘I know horsemen. I’m sure they’re all the same the whole world over, whether they are rich or poor.’

  ‘Undoubtedly. To a horseman, horses are everything. I could not live without them.’

  ‘With your money, you’d never have to.’

  ‘True,’ he said. ‘The trick is to stay alive.’

  ‘I can’t see you dying any time soon. Unless you break your silly neck riding Smoking Gun.’

  When he looked at her and laughed Samantha finally started to relax, the tightness in her stomach uncurling, her grip on the steering wheel lessening. Her view of the day ahead gradually changed from panic to one of pleasurable anticipation. It would be challenging, seeing if she could find the true gems amongst all the fool’s gold offered today. Interesting to see, too, if Bandar was as knowledgeable about horses as he claimed to be.

  At the same time she would try hard not to think of him as a devastatingly sexy man, but as just another horse-lover.

  A very wealthy horse-lover, admittedly. But there were plenty of those around. She’d mixed with many multimillionaire racehorse owners back in Sydney. She’d never been attracted to any as she was attracted to Bandar, but she’d envied quite a few.

  ‘You are so lucky, Bandar, to be able to afford to buy any horse you want. I hope you know that.’

  He glanced up from where he’d been studying the catalogue. ‘I have never really thought about it. A man is either born rich or poor. After that it is up to him to make of his life what he will. Since my father died I have increased my wealth considerably through my own endeavours. I feel I have earned the right to buy whatever I want.’

  Samantha did not argue with him, but she considered it was surely an advantage to be born rich.

  ‘One day,’ she said, ‘I’m going to go to a top yearling sale and buy myself a simply fabulous colt.’

  ‘Not a filly?’

  ‘Oh, no. I much prefer colts.’ She always had—right from the time she’d first become interested in horses.

  ‘Top colts command high prices,’ Bandar warned her.

  ‘I earn good money. And one day I’ll have my own veterinary practice and earn a whole lot more.’

  ‘You have ambition.’

  ‘Girls are allowed to have ambition in this country,’ she pointed out, somewhat tartly.

  ‘Might I remind you that I live in England?’

  ‘Maybe, but you are still an Arab sheikh, born into a vastly different culture. Not so long ago you’d have had a harem full of female love-slaves. And you wouldn’t have thought it wrong.’

  ‘You are so right. Having a harem of female love-slaves is a most attractive prospect. A man is not by nature monogamous. Muslims are still allowed up to four wives.’

  ‘But you are not Muslim.’

  ‘Not Muslim, and not married.’

  ‘You have a girlfriend back home in England?’

  ‘I have three lady-friends.’

  ‘Three!And they’re happy with that arrangement?’

  ‘They have not complained.’

  Samantha supposed he hadn’t got his playboy reputation for nothing. But, brother, three girlfriends at once was going beyond the pale. It was positively disgusting!

  ‘And what about you, Samantha? You have a boyfriend?’

  ‘Not at the moment,’ she bit out, her temper on the rise again.

  ‘You do not like men much, I fear.’

  ‘I like men fine.’

  ‘But you like horses more.’

  ‘That’s the pot calling the kettle black. You like horses much more than women. If you liked women, you wouldn’t be treating them so badly. Now, I think we should drop this subject before I get really mad with you. We have to spend the day together, so let’s just stick to the subject of horses in future. Agreed?’

  When she glanced over at him he looked totally nonplussed, as though he did not know what to make of her.

  ‘Okay, so I’m not a run-of-the-mill female,’ she raced on, before the situation got out of hand. ‘I’m opinionated and downright difficult at times. But I’m also straightforward and honest, which I hope makes up for a lot of personality flaws. And I do like you, Bandar, despite your questionable morals. Any man who loves horses as much as you do has to have some good points, though I’m not sure yet what they are.’

  By now he was fairly gaping at her.

  ‘I promise to be on my best behaviour for the rest of the day if you promise not to tell me any more about your unsavoury lifestyle back home. Deal?’

  He just shook his head at her, his expression one of total exasperation. ‘You are impossible!’

  ‘Yes, but I’m also driving. Deal?’

  ‘I do not have anunsavoury lifestyle back home,’ he argued.

  ‘You are sleeping with three different women at the same time. Is that not true?’

  ‘No. It isnot true,’ he said indignantly. ‘I go to each of their beds on different nights. I do not have them in the same bed at the same time.’

  ‘Oh, terrific. Glad we got that straight. That makesall the diffe
rence.’

  He sighed with what sounded like satisfaction. ‘I am glad we got that straight as well. I do not wish you to think I am some kind of roué.’

  Samantha gave up at that point. The manwas a roué—with the morals of an alley cat! Hehad been alluding to his own sex life the other night, when he’d been talking about going from a feast to a famine.

  Who knew how he was coping out here, with no one to warm his bed at night? Unless he’d already seconded some of the girl grooms! She wouldn’t put it past him. The man was sex on legs. He’d only have to crook his finger at any of them and they’d come running. Some of them weren’t half bad looking, either.

  This train of thought was not at all comforting.

  Thank goodness the turn-off that led to Valleyview Farm had come. Some horsey distraction was called for. Anything to push out of her mind the image of Bandar going from one woman’s bed to another’s, and then to yet another’s…

  The road they’d turned onto was a dirt road, full of ruts and bumps.

  ‘How can this stud farm be one of any quality?’ Bandar soon complained. ‘They cannot even afford to seal their roads.’

  Samantha had to laugh. ‘This isn’ttheir road. This is apublic road. Welcome to Australia!’

  CHAPTER SIX

  CLEOhad been right about Valleyview Farm. It was a very picturesque place, with lovely lawns and gardens surrounding the main homestead, providing any number of spots for them to eat their picnic lunch.

  And what a lovely lunch Cleo had provided: cold chicken, salad, freshly baked breadsticks and the most delicious carrot cake, along with two small bottles of chilled white wine which Samantha found nestled in the bottom of the cooler.

  After three solid hours of inspecting all the mares marked in the catalogue, both Samantha and Bandar were more than ready to eat. They made short work of the food, enjoying it under a not-too-shady tree, with the dappled sunshine providing some very pleasant warmth.

  Samantha tucked in whilst sitting cross-legged on one corner of the picnic blanket Cleo had also packed. Bandar sat with his back up against the trunk of the tree, his long legs stretched out before him.

  ‘That was great,’ Samantha said after she’d finished her cake, proud of herself for not staring at Bandar too much while he ate this time. ‘I was so hungry I could have eaten a horse.’

  ‘It is as well that Cleo packed us a substantial lunch, then,’ Bandar replied, smiling at her over the rim of his glass. He still had an inch or two of wine left. ‘Eating a horse around here could be a very expensive meal. Especially the onesyou picked out for me this morning.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. We could be lucky and get some of them quite cheaply.’

  ‘No,’ he said, and swallowed the rest of his wine. ‘I do not think so.’

  ‘I appreciate they’re all well-bred mares, some with very good performances on the track, but seriously, Bandar,’ she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper so that a group of people nearby didn’t hear her, ‘the turn-out today hasn’t been wonderful. I suppose more buyers might still show up during the afternoon. But there were surprisingly few people here this morning inspecting the horses. There are going to be some bargains at this auction. Trust me.’

  ‘We will not be here for the auction this afternoon,’ he announced unexpectedly, putting his glass back on the blanket before getting to his feet.

  Samantha scrambled to her feet also, confused by this unexpected turn of events. ‘What do you mean? Why won’t we be here for the auction?’

  He took his time, brushing some grass from his black jeans before answering her. ‘I have already bought the five mares we selected. I paid for them when you went back to the car to get the picnic basket.’

  ‘Paid for them?’ she repeated, totally thrown by this development. ‘How much did you pay for them?’

  ‘Two million dollars.’

  ‘Twomillion! ’ she squawked, so loudly that the group of people turned to stare at them. But she didn’t care. ‘Two million—for five mares worth not more than a hundred thousand each! If that,’ Samantha added, her hands finding her hips in total exasperation. The man had more money than sense!

  He eyed her up and down with some exasperation of his own. ‘Valleyview Farm has agreed to organise transport to Ali’s stud farm as part of the deal,’ he said coolly.

  ‘No kidding? They’d probably have agreed to send the lot to Dubar for the price you paid!’

  ‘Hush,’ he commanded, his eyes flashing annoyance. ‘This is not the time or the place for you to argue with me. Pack up the basket. We can discuss this back in the car.’

  Samantha felt like informing Bandar that she was Prince Ali’s vet, nothis personal lackey. But he was already striding across the lawns towards the parking area and her vehicle. She had no option but to do what he ordered, or leave everything behind.

  Samantha could just hear what Cleo would say to her if she did that.

  So she fairly threw everything into the basket, cracking one of the wine glasses in the process. Stuffing the blanket on top, she snatched the basket up by the handles and stomped after Bandar. He was waiting for her by the passenger door, his face as thunderous as her own. They did not say a word to each other till they were both in their seats, Samantha being the first to speak.

  ‘The reason you come to a dispersal sale,’ she snapped, ‘is to get a bargain! You do not pay upfront—especially well above the market price. If you’d asked me, I could have told you what those mares were worth. I didn’t realise you had no idea. I thought you kneweverything about horses!’

  He’d certainly shown a lot of expertise when he’d inspected the mares alongside her. She’d been fascinated at how calmly the horses had stood for him as he’d run his hands over them. He’d talked to them at the same time, in soft murmurings, telling them how lovely they were.

  She suspected, by the furious look on his face, that she was not about to be subjected to any soft murmurings.

  ‘My dear Samantha,’ he ground out, with his jaw clenched so hard the veins were standing out in his neck. ‘A bargain is only a bargain if you are in need of one. I can afford to pay more, and I did.’

  ‘But you weren’t using your own money,’ she countered. ‘You were buying those mares for Ali.’

  ‘Do you think I would use Ali’s money in making such a deal? I paid for them personally. They are to be gifts to my good friend.’

  Samantha grimaced. ‘Oh. I…I didn’t know that. Sorry.’

  ‘And so you should be,’ he reprimanded. ‘You are one of those women who speaks first and thinks later. I always have a good reason for what I do. For your enlightenment, Ali mentioned to me yesterday that the owner of Valleyview Farm is an elderly lady in severe financial difficulties. Her now deceased husband was not a good businessman. Two million is nothing to me, but could mean everything to a poor widow at this time in her life.’

  ‘Oh.’ Once again Samantha was taken aback, and also ashamed—both by her outburst and her rash judgement of him. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, before lifting her chin and shooting him an exasperated look. ‘But you might have said that was your intention in the first place!’

  ‘It was not my original intention. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I was going to stay and bid a more than fair price for those mares at the auction, but I changed my mind. If you insist on total honesty—and it seems you value honesty a lot—it was you who made me decide not to stay and attend the auction.’

  ‘Me? What has your not staying for the auction got to do with me?’

  ‘I think you know,’ he said, his eyes locking with hers and holding them.

  Samantha’s heart began to race behind her ribs. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she claimed.

  His eyes narrowed on her. ‘I do not believe you. You are a highly intelligent girl. Does it embarrass you to admit the attraction between us?’

  ‘What?’Her eyes flared wide with shock, her mouth dropping open.
/>
  ‘Do not deny it. The chemistry has been there from the first moment we met. Though you did make me doubt it when you showed up for dinner that evening looking like you were about to muck out some stables. What kind of woman is this, I thought to myself, who does not try to enhance her natural beauty?’

  ‘Huh!’ came her automatic reaction. ‘I have no natural beauty to enhance.’

  His hand cupped her chin firmly and brought her face closer to his.

  ‘You think your eyes are not beautiful?’ he asked, his own truly beautiful eyes caressing hers in a way which would make any woman melt.