‘This was an iron age village,’ he was saying. ‘We think they brought water from the mountains by means of underground pipes. We have found the access shaft here, we think. But we don’t know which direction the water came from, yet.’
Against her, his shoulder felt like a rock. Warm rock.
‘H-how interesting,’ Leo managed to say.
‘There was a time,’ Amer said very deliberately, ‘as I mentioned to you before, when I thought I would be an archaeologist. My father has the right to chose his heir and he and I did not see eye to eye at all. I thought he would choose one of my uncles. Very traditional, very unyielding. To be honest I would have been glad. But the last three years he has been wavering. Now he says he sees that reform is necessary and I am the one to do it.’ He sighed. ‘So my water pipes will be discovered by somebody else.’
He paused, as if he expected a reaction.
Bewildered, Leo said, ‘Why are you telling me this?’
The arm around her was like iron.
‘Because I want you to know me,’ Amer said simply.
She levered herself away a little and stared up at him. The moonlight hid his expression. She gave a cynical nod.
‘Oh, sure.’
He was startled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘If you wanted me to know you, could you have told me about your wife,’ Leo said before she could stop herself.
‘My wife!’ He sounded thunderstruck.
‘If there was anything more to this than a sexy game of pursuit, wouldn’t you have told me that at least?’ Leo said quietly.
There was a silence.
Then Amer said fiercely, ‘My feelings for my wife were nothing like this. Nothing.’
Leo thought it was impossible to hurt so much and not cry out with it. She removed herself from his encircling arm. She could not bear him to touch her any more and not care.
She said, ‘I want to go back.’
‘Leonora—’
‘I want to go back now.’
She fled.
He let her get as far as their picnic site before he caught her. His arms shackled her, though she struggled wildly.
‘Let me go,’ she panted. ‘You don’t want me. Not really. For a few days at most.’
‘A few days?’ Amer speared a look down into her face that she could almost believe would pierce the dark. ‘A few days?’
He pulled her hard into his arms. Leo suddenly saw the point of light, loose silks. His head blotted out the moon.
It was no good. No matter what her head said, her heart was his. She gave herself up to the moment on a tornado of desire.
He lowered her to the rug. The sand shifted underneath, moulding itself round them. Leo gasped. His hands were strong and amazingly competent. She felt the silks flow away from her. To be replaced by his mouth.
But this was not like London. This was no languorous lovemaking, luring her slowly up the winding path of pleasure. This was urgent. Desperate almost. And this time he was not holding back.
‘Touch me,’ he commanded.
Leo hesitated. He groaned her name. She had never felt so unsure of herself. His flesh was so warm. Tentatively she moved her palms along his shoulder, down his spine. It felt awkward. His tension struck her to the heart.
It was no use. She could not pretend.
With harsh honesty, Leo said, ‘I don’t know how to do this.’
Amer raised his head at that. ‘What?’
In the starlight his eyes burned into hers.
Leo had no deceptions left. ‘No one has ever made me feel the way you do,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t know anyone could. I have no idea how to make you feel that good. I’ve always been useless with men.’
She felt as if her whole body was one huge blush of shame. Thank God for the dark. At least he would not see it.
See? No. But he could hear. And feel. He was very still for an agonizing moment. Then he moved sharply, pinning her hands above her head in the sand.
‘And you accused me of treating this like a game,’ he said, outraged.
Leo was disconcerted. She pulled against the imprisoning hands. ‘What? What are you doing?’
But he did not let her go. It was almost as if he did not hear her. She started to thresh wildly.
‘You’re not a toy,’ he said furiously. ‘That’s why I went after you in the first place. You were completely yourself.’
Leo tried to kick herself free. It was an incredible mistake. His hand only tightened on her wrist. But the worst thing was that it brought her into contact with the whole length of his aroused body. She sobbed in longing.
‘You don’t have to make me feel good.’ Amer shook her wrists to emphasise his point. ‘You don’t have to make me feel anything. You have to be here. That’s all. Be here now.’
‘Let me go,’ said Leo breathlessly.
Her writhings had taken them off the rug into the sand.
‘Feel,’ he said. ‘Just feel.’
You have to be here. Now.
His concentration was total. It was like fire. She cried out again and again as he swept through defence after defence to reach the heated core of her.
You have to be. Here. Now.
Leo lay stunned. Her unwinking eyes gazed dreamily at the stars, wheeling with majestic slowness beyond his head. He was heavy across her, his forehead damp in the crook of her shoulder. She touched his hair with tenderness. And absolute love.
It did not matter if he did not love her. It did not matter how short a time he might want her for. She loved him. And he had loved her in a way for that explosive moment.
Amer stirred.
‘I never meant to do that,’ he said. His voice was slurred but there was an unmistakable undertone of laughter. ‘Well not yet anyway. You go to my head.’
He rolled away and sat up. Leo lay there in the starlight, unashamed of her nakedness, though she knew he was looking at her. She gazed up at him with love.
He brushed her hair back from her hot face. It was a possessive gesture.
‘I hurt you, didn’t I?’
‘No.’
‘I think I did.’
Leo stretched her arms above her head. She gave her limbs a shake all the way down to her pointing toes. She made a little purring sound.
‘No,’ she said, laughing in her turn. ‘All in good working order. In fact, this is the best I’ve ever felt in my life.’
Amer bent and kissed her quickly. ‘Me, too.’
‘You?’ She came up on one elbow, astonished. ‘But—’
He said rapidly, ‘I know I should have told you about Yasmin. Only it’s painful. I’ve got out of the way of thinking about it.’
Leo leaned forward and put a hand to his cheek.
‘Yasmin was your wife?’
For some reason it did not seem all that important, any more. She loved him. That was enough.
‘Yes. We were too young, I suppose. And it was a political alliance. She had been spoilt by her father. I was too young to know how to deal with it. It made her cruel.’ He looked into Leo’s eyes suddenly. ‘When she died she was tormenting a horse she had been told she should not ride. I couldn’t mourn. I couldn’t forgive myself for not mourning. It’s a bad package, that.’
Leo pulled him forward until his head was against her breast.
‘Oh my love.’
‘I’m not proud of the way I’ve lived since then. I wish it had been different. That’s why I held back that night in London. I wanted—it seemed a way of loving you.’
Leo’s eyes were full of tears. She bent her head quickly to kiss his temple. Her lips trembled.
‘I have never wanted any woman to have my children,’ he said so quietly that she could barely hear him. ‘Until now.’
Leo went very still. Amer raised his head.
‘That’s why no more games.’ He stroked her hair. ‘It’s a lot of fun and sexy as hell. But I want more.’
She was utterly unprepared. ‘I can’t�
��I hadn’t thought—I didn’t know—’ She swallowed. ‘But you don’t love me.’
‘Don’t I?’
‘You haven’t shown any signs of it.’
Amer gave a tender laugh. ‘That’s because you don’t know what a saint I normally am. Hari tells me I’ve been unbearable. And doing crazy things, just for the chance of getting you into bed.’
‘Oh,’ said Leo, hopefully.
‘My father could tell you, too,’ Amer added thoughtfully. ‘I said that unless he agreed to meet you I was going to take up an archaeological job in the UK.’
‘Oh.’
‘Marry me,’ he said urgently.
Leo blinked, disconcerted.
‘All right,’ he said in a reasonable voice. ‘Spend the night with me. We’ll talk about the rest in the morning.’
Leo was startled into laughter. Amazed, joyous laughter.
‘But I’m clumsy. And I bump into things. And I get ink on my fingers. What sort of wife will I make?’
‘The only one I want.’
Amer kissed her throat. ‘Are you going to spend the night with me or not, you difficult woman?’
Leo moved against him voluptuously, her eyes drifting shut.
‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ said Amer amused. ‘And what about marriage?’
Amused, yes. But he was shaking. He wanted her. He really wanted her!
Leo opened her eyes and gave him a long look of shameless triumph.
‘Yes,’ she said.
EPILOGUE
IT WAS, everyone agreed, a magnificent wedding. It went on for four days and included every ceremony that the bride’s and groom’s respective families could devise.
After the ceremonies came the feasting; after the feasting the entertainment. The Minister of Culture, in his element, hung the palace halls with cloth of gold for the occasion. The international photojournalists were in their element.
Leo went through it all without bumping into a thing. Every time she felt nervous she looked up. And Amer smiled at her as if he and she were the only people in the world.
Eventually she slipped away from the music and dancing and out into the courtyard where the fountains played. He followed her, as she knew he would.
‘Tired?’ The soft murmur was a caress.
‘No.’
‘So you would like to dance until dawn?’ he teased.
‘No.’
‘So what am I to do with you, then?’
‘Love me.’
His arms closed round her, hard as iron. ‘Always.’
‘Take me home, Amer.’ Her voice was a thread of pure desire.
He took her back to his own palace then; to his private room, with its books and the mountains beyond. And shut the world out.
Leo gave a little delighted shiver and went into his arms in total trust.
‘It seems too much. I can’t believe it. Hold me, my love. Make me believe it.’
‘Believe what?’ he said, his voice husky with desire. ‘That I adore you? That when I am away from you, I can barely wait to return to you? That when I return, all I want is you in my arms?’
Leo was trembling. ‘That I am the Sheikh’s bride, after all.’
He picked her up and carried her to the bed.
And in the end, dazed with delight, humbled by love and completely overthrown by tender laughter, she said, ‘I believe it. Oh boy, do I believe.’
ISBN: 978-1-4603-6488-8
THE SHEIKH’S BRIDE
First North American Publication 2000.
Copyright © 2000 by Sophie Weston.
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