Ruling Sheikh, Unruly Mistress

by Susan Stephens

  ‘Share me?’ Razi demanded with amusement as he lowered her carefully to the ground. ‘Do you really think there would be anything left by the time you’ve finished with me?’

  Glancing down, she hummed. ‘I don’t know, there seems plenty…’

  ‘Only because I’m with you.’ Dipping his head, he stared into her eyes. ‘That’s why I don’t need or want anyone else.’

  ‘What about when you’re married?’

  ‘I’ll want you twice as much.’

  She looked at him aghast when he laughed. ‘But your wife,’ she choked out as all the old doubts reared up to taunt her. She was what Razi wanted in bed, but she had always known that when it came to choosing a bride it would have to be a diplomatic match for the good of the kingdom. What would that mean for her babies? She could be as determined as she liked, but she could never bear the pain of seeing another woman at Razi’s side.

  ‘I don’t want anyone else,’ Razi reassured her, staring into her eyes. ‘Why should I?’

  She wasn’t listening. ‘I thought I could handle anything to be with you, but I can’t take my happiness at someone else’s expense—I could never do any of the things required of a mistress.’

  ‘Will you calm down?’ Razi demanded gently. ‘You’re upsetting the babies.’

  ‘You fight dirty,’ Lucy protested, only quietening when Razi wrapped his arms around her.

  ‘I never said I’d play fair.’

  ‘So what happens next?’

  ‘What happens next will be set down in law,’ he soothed her. ‘I will make you my wife so I can keep you working. Oh, yes, I’ll make you work,’ he said when she looked at him.

  ‘Wait, wait, wait—wind back a bit. Did you say wife?’

  ‘There’s plenty to stretch your talents here in Isla de Sinnebar—and I wouldn’t dream of wasting such a valuable resource.’

  ‘Razi,’ she cut in. ‘Are you teasing me or are you serious?’

  ‘Do I mean you’re going to work? Absolutely. Do I mean you’re going to be my wife? Yes—if you’ll have me?’

  ‘Oh, yes, yes, yes—I think I can safely assure you I’d be happy to accept both positions. But what about your people? They would never accept me—’

  ‘They already have.’

  ‘What? How can they? Please stop teasing me and explain.’

  ‘There’s no need to bore you with the detail—one day, maybe,’ he said softly. ‘Let’s just say they truly welcome you as their Queen. Oh, and did I mention how hard you’ll be working?’

  ‘You did say something,’ she agreed dryly, smiling into his eyes.

  ‘Along with being my first, my best, my only wife, and the only woman I will ever love for the rest of my life, you’re going to be in charge of all the royal catering facilities as well as the mother of two children. That should satisfy all your feminist inclinations and keep you out of mischief for the foreseeable future.’

  She looked at him and for a long moment neither of them spoke. ‘So you really are serious?’ she said at last.

  ‘Of course I’m serious.’

  ‘We’re to be married…’

  ‘How could I let you go when I’ve watched you sleeping in my arms, when I’ve seen the dawn dust your skin with gold and watched your eyes light with love and happiness—’

  ‘And you’re a romantic?’

  ‘Of course.’ Razi’s face creased in the familiar smile. ‘How’s this? Even your shadow throws light.’

  ‘Hmm—not bad.’

  ‘Or this—I won’t let you go.’

  Did he mean it?

  ‘But what about Isla de Sinnebar?’ she said, turning serious.

  ‘All the more reason for me to do what is right. And this is right, Lucy.’

  Razi spoke with such confidence that when he started whispering to her in his own language in a way that soothed and convinced and seduced all at the same time it took all she’d got to root out her last doubt. ‘So I won’t be locked away in some love nest?’

  ‘That’s a colourful picture,’ he murmured, backing her slowly across the room. ‘Locking you in the kitchen, I could understand…’

  They shared a look that told Lucy the mistakes of the past would never be repeated, and then they embraced, fiercely and passionately until they sank to the floor where they stood. This time Razi’s lovemaking was slow and tender. He used all his skill to draw out her pleasure, and all the while he told her how much he loved her. By the time he released her they had moved far beyond hurt and confusion to a new ease and confidence that bound them together in a way that words never could.

  They showered together—which took quite a lot of time. Fortunately, they dressed much faster, and then Razi drove Lucy back to the building site that would soon be his new palace, and, incredibly, their family home. Knowing they would live together in such a beautiful place was almost more than Lucy could take in and she made Razi tell her it was so over and over again.

  It was as if she was seeing the half-finished building through completely new eyes, she realised when he finally convinced her. Had she noticed how seamlessly the sandstone structure blended into the desert landscape? Or how the purple mountains surrounding it provided a majestic frame? The colours seemed more vivid than ever—the golden sand and turquoise ocean, the green of the parkland being carefully cultivated in front of the lagoon where one day soon their children would play. This truly was the place where reality and fantasy met.

  ‘You have no idea how much I love you—or how amazing you look,’ Razi observed with a grin as they linked fingers.

  They had both chosen to wear traditional robes for this visit to their new home. Razi’s robe was heavy blue silk with a matching flowing headpiece and a gold agal, while Lucy’s robe was softer sky-blue chiffon trimmed with silver embroidery, and she had to admit she felt a lot cooler than she would have done in western clothes.

  ‘Are you happy?’ Razi demanded, bringing her round to face him.

  ‘I can’t begin to tell you.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to find a way,’ he said as he drew her into the shadows where her pale skin wouldn’t burn.

  As he caressed her face she caught hold of his hand and brought it to her cheek. ‘I love you,’ she whispered, still finding it incredible that she could say that, and that this strong, dark prince of the desert had told her that he loved her in return.

  ‘You’re so much more than I deserve,’ he said, and when she looked at him in surprise he shook his head. ‘Why can’t you believe how special you are?’

  ‘Because I’m nothing special?’ Lucy announced in her usual blunt way.

  ‘Nothing special?’ Throwing back his head, Razi laughed. ‘I think you’re looking for compliments,’ he accused as the desert wind whipped his hair into a tangle.

  Before she had chance to deny this, he added, ‘You’re brave and determined and strong—not to mention capable and talented.’

  ‘Go on—I can’t get enough of this now. Though you are starting to make me sound a like a trick pony.’

  Razi narrowed his eyes. ‘I was about to add—and sexier than any woman has any right to be.’

  ‘That’s much better,’ Lucy approved, sharing Razi’s smile.

  ‘I love you, Lucy Tennant,’ he stated frankly. ‘And I want to share my life with you.’

  ‘No ifs, buts, or maybes?’ she said wryly.

  ‘No doubts ever. And if I have to spend the rest of my life convincing you, then I’ll sign up now. You’re the only woman I want. You’re the only mother I could ever want for my children.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I know you’ll fight with everything you’ve got for them, and for me, and for all the people of the Isla de Sinnebar when they call you their Queen.’

  ‘Their Queen?’ Lucy echoed incredulously.

  ‘Why so surprised?’ Razi demanded with a nonchalant shrug. ‘Haven’t you realised yet that I’ll stop at nothing to keep a good chef?’

  EPILOGUE


  THE women came for her at dawn. Lucy had spent the night in the tented city amongst her people, guarded by the royal security troops. But she longed for Razi. She longed for the last of the barriers keeping them apart to be removed. And, yes, she longed to step beyond the silken veil. The women Razi had sent to prepare her for their Sheikh would help her do that. Clothed in colourful robes like so many jewelled butterflies, they clustered round her, kohl-lined eyes smiling with excitement.

  Slipping off her sandals, Lucy padded wide-eyed into the bridal tent, her own private sanctuary of luxury and warmth. Light streamed from a thousand tiny brass lanterns, and there was incense burning. Soft carpets tickled her feet and plump cushions in shades of soft pink and burnished gold were arranged all around the perimeter of the uniquely feminine pavilion. There was fruit and jugs of juice, and honeyed pastries piled in tempting mountains on low pierced brass tables, but Lucy had only one thought in her mind, and that was Razi. Only he could satisfy the hunger she felt now.

  They bathed her in warm, scented water, before drying her on the softest of towels. Every hair on her body, other than her waist-length, honey-coloured tresses, her eyebrows and eyelashes, was then painstakingly removed—with the emphasis on pain, Lucy registered, biting down hard on her bottom lip as she told herself it would all be worth it if she could just keep in mind the rewards that would definitely follow.

  After this they brushed her body until it tingled, before massaging her with fragrant oils that added to her sensitivity. Then she stood with all the confidence in her naked body Razi had given her and raised her hands as they slipped a cobweb-fine shift over her head. Next they seated her on cushions where she had her hands and feet decorated with intricate swirls and dots of henna, and when that was done her clean, scented hair was first polished with silk and then braided loosely.

  Only then did they bring out the wedding robe she had chosen. In the palest shade of pink silk chiffon, it twinkled with diamonds and platinum hand-embroidery. There were jewelled slippers for her feet, and she would carry in her hands the good wishes of her people represented by semi-precious stones and gold coins painstakingly threaded onto a great ribbon of glittering light that would dazzle as she walked. This traditional royal Sinnebalese wedding scarf would be wound around her hands and Razi’s during the ceremony that followed, binding them together for all eternity.

  ‘There’s just one more thing,’ one of the women told her as they arranged Lucy’s veil. ‘A gift from the Sheikh,’ she said, laying the golden casket at Lucy’s feet.

  ‘We need what’s inside to secure your veil,’ the same woman confided as Lucy trailed her fingertips across the intricately worked golden box. Trust Razi to put a packet of kirby grips in a gold box the size of this one, she was thinking before she opened the lid.

  She gasped in shock. It appeared Razi’s economies had bypassed his wedding gift to her. Nestled snugly on a night blue velvet ground, a fabulous chain of pink and white diamonds flamed and glittered with all the colours of the rainbow. She touched them reverently and then pulled her hand away. ‘I can’t—I mean, I don’t—’

  ‘Don’t worry, Sheikha,’ one of the hand-maidens told her. ‘We’ll arrange them for you…’

  ‘I’m going to wear them?’ She sat stock-still as they draped her in diamonds that felt surprisingly cool and soothing against her brow. The large central diadem, which was the size of the pigeon’s egg, counterbalanced the weight of the rest so it held her veil in place. Diamonds were far more effective than kirby grips, Lucy conceded dryly as one of the women held up a mirror so she could see her reflection.

  ‘Now do you see why I love you?’

  At the sound of Razi’s voice, all the women got up in a rustle of skirts, bowing low to their Sheikh as they backed their way out of the bridal pavilion.

  ‘Should you be here?’ Lucy demanded, slanting kohlenhanced eyes to drink him in.

  ‘I do as I please.’ He said this with all the old humour. ‘And I’m pleased to see you have taken to your new role as if to the manner born.’

  ‘Like you?’ Lucy suggested wryly. They shared a look that said neither of them had been born to this, but they were both ready to devote themselves to the country and to their family, and to each other.

  ‘The old days are over,’ Razi said, bringing Lucy to her feet in front of him. ‘We will walk to our wedding as equals.’

  ‘Some of the old ways are worth preserving…’

  ‘Do I take it that means you enjoyed your preparations?’

  ‘Being prepared for the Sheikh?’ She shrugged ruefully.

  ‘Yes, I liked most of it—though some of it was painful.’

  ‘They hurt you?’

  ‘I shall expect a suitable reward.’

  ‘Then I must ensure that you get it.’

  She exclaimed with delight as Razi teased her with his lips and with his teeth and with his tongue. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

  ‘Just hold me,’ he said, inhaling deeply as he dropped kisses on her neck. ‘Amber, jasmine and lemon grass.’

  ‘The scent you designed for me.’

  ‘And which will be all you wear tonight, and for every night from now on.’

  She shivered with delicious anticipation as Razi took her hand in his.

  She barely noticed anything for the next hour, other than the man at her side in his warrior robes of unrelieved black. Razi was a magnificent sight. Beyond the heavy gold agal holding his headdress in place and the fearsome Khanjar at his waist, he needed no decoration, and when he placed the diamond band onto her wedding finger and pledged his love, she knew that sometimes fairy tales did come true. He was her warrior king, her dark prince of the desert, and she loved him more than life itself.

  What would her rowdy brothers make of little Lucy now? she wondered as the marriage ceremony ended in fierce shouts of joy from the throats of thousands of tribesmen seated on horseback. Her whole family had fallen silent for the first time that she could remember at the news that she was expecting twins, and then the noisiest discussion she could remember had broken out on the subject of whether some men had unusual advantages in the fertility stakes—one discussion she really hadn’t wanted to get into.

  As soon as the marriage ceremony on the beach beneath the flower-strewn canopy was over Razi’s first duty was to lead her towards the Phoenix throne and present her to his brother, Ra’id, who had been seated in Razi’s place for this one day to show him honour. Lucy shivered, remembering Ra’id was known as The Sword of Vengeance. Her first sight of him had left a fearsome impression of a dark force of nature lit by molten rays of sunlight shimmering around the golden throne that seemed to frame him in a ring of fire. She tensed as Ra’id stood and his shadow fell across her. He was a stern, darkly handsome man, who, having dipped his head to acknowledge her, embraced his brother warmly.

  ‘What do you think of Ra’id?’ Razi murmured as they walked on.

  She was still shaken by the meeting, but she opted for the truth. ‘He looks lonely.’

  ‘Lonely?’ Razi demanded incredulously. ‘The man known as The Sword of Vengeance, lonely?’ He shook his head as if she had a lot to learn. ‘My brother, Ra’id, is the most powerful man in the Middle East.’

  ‘And even powerful men need someone to love and need to be loved in return,’ she insisted.

  Razi smiled at her. ‘Then I can only hope my brother is as lucky in love as I have been.’

  ‘As we have been…’

  Razi squeezed her hand. ‘As we have been,’ he repeated softly.

  Her family was struck dumb again and it was a shock to see her mother crying. ‘I love you,’ Lucy said, touching her mother’s arm.

  They shared a glance, and then to her surprise her mother grasped her hand and brought it to her lips. ‘I love you too,’ she said, almost with desperation in her voice.

  ‘We’ll see them later,’ Razi told Lucy to reassure her as the bridal procession moved on. ‘The wedding celebrat
ions continue for a week.’

  ‘A week?’

  The concern in her voice made him smile. ‘Sadly, we have a prior engagement that will keep us away for the first half day.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Then seeing the stallion waiting for them, caparisoned in gold and traditionally woven fabrics, she understood. Springing up, Razi lifted her in front of him and in a flurry of hooves they galloped away.

  ‘Another tradition,’ he assured her, holding her close as he acknowledged the cheers of the tribesmen as they rode the length of the seashore. But instead of turning back to return to the wedding party, he rode on towards a beach over the dunes and out of sight.

  ‘Razi, we can’t do this,’ Lucy exclaimed, glancing over her shoulder.

  ‘If you think I’m going to waste a single moment when I know you’ve been prepared for the Sheikh…’ Reining in the stallion, he sprang to the ground and, reaching up, brought her down beside him.

  They fell into each other’s arms, kissing tenderly, deeply, passionately, rejoicing in this, their first kiss as husband and wife. Then, ever the pragmatist, Razi eased Lucy’s wedding robe from her shoulders and let it drop to the ground.

  ‘Wow, that was easy,’ Lucy remarked. ‘Let’s hope this form of traditional dress never goes out of fashion.’

  Razi’s face creased in a smile as he viewed the scattered silk. ‘No buttons—no zips?’ He shrugged. ‘Who’s going to better that design?’

  ‘I agree.’ Raising her arms, Lucy laced her fingers through Razi’s thick, strong hair. ‘So? What do you think, Your Majesty?’

  ‘What do I think?’ He shrugged off his robe and tossed his headdress aside, before kneeling at her feet. ‘I think there are quite a few old customs worth preserving.’