Sheikh's Forbidden Conquest

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Sheikh's Forbidden Conquest Page 8

by Chantelle Shaw


  ‘You are more beautiful even than I imagined.’ His voice, roughened with desire, broke the intense silence of the dimly lit cabin.

  Reality pushed, unwelcome, into Lexi’s thoughts. She wasn’t a novice when it came to sex; she was an independent woman, free to do as she pleased. She could no longer deny that she wanted to make love with Kadir, but choice also meant taking responsibility for herself. ‘I’m not on the Pill,’ she murmured. ‘Do you have anything with you?’

  Lexi’s words were as effective as a cold shower. Once again Kadir acknowledged the irony of bad timing. If she had asked him the same question six months ago he would have been able to assure her that he always carried condoms with him. But he had made a commitment to himself to end the playboy lifestyle, in preparation for his marriage.

  His desire for Lexi was blazing out of control, but in his heart burned the need to prove to himself that he was an honourable man like his father had been, a man fit to be Sultan of Zenhab and fulfil the destiny of a desert king.

  Ignoring the painful throb of his arousal, he got up from the sofa and tugged Lexi’s dress back over her breasts. She caught her breath as the silk grazed her nipples, and the evidence of how sensitive her breasts were almost shattered Kadir’s resolve to end what he should never have begun.

  ‘We must go back to the house,’ he said abruptly as he thrust her pashmina into her hands, and felt relieved when she wrapped it around her so that he could no longer see the hard points of her nipples jutting beneath her dress.

  ‘Shouldn’t we wait until it stops raining?’ Lexi hesitated when Kadir opened the cabin door and she saw the torrential downpour. But he had already stepped onto the porch. He slid out of his jacket and draped it around her shoulders before he grabbed her hand and practically dragged her along the path.

  ‘We need to go back now.’

  His urgency filled Lexi with anticipation. In the cabin she had been aware of his hunger, the need for sexual fulfilment that had almost overwhelmed both of them. But safe sex could not be ignored and Kadir was clearly impatient to take her to his bedroom, where presumably he had contraceptives and they could make love with peace of mind.

  Was she out of her mind? demanded a voice inside her head. It defied common sense to sleep with a playboy. But she was tired of being sensible. Her job as a helicopter pilot in the RAF and then with the coastguard agency had required her to take risks, but on a personal level she had played it safe for far too long. Why shouldn’t she enjoy everything the Prince of Pleasure had to offer?

  Lexi’s heart was thumping as Kadir ushered her into the villa through a side door and up a back staircase used by the servants to the third floor, where the guest bedrooms were.

  Her smile faltered and she gave him a puzzled look when he stopped in the corridor outside her bedroom and said brusquely, ‘Goodnight.’

  Goodnight! ‘I...I don’t understand. I thought...’

  The memory of his barely restrained passion ten minutes earlier made her abandon her usual diffidence. She ached for him and she had been certain that he wanted her with the same white-hot need. His chiselled features gave no clue to his thoughts and some of Lexi’s certainty faded as she stared into his eyes that were the colour of dark umber, without the teasing glint she was used to seeing. ‘I assumed we were going to spend the night together,’ she said huskily.

  In his wilder days Kadir had slept with more women than he could remember, but he had never felt as much of a bastard as he did now for not sleeping with Lexi. The irony would be laughable if he felt like laughing, but he doubted that he would ever laugh again. There was no good way to handle the situation and only one thing he could say.

  ‘I’m sorry. I should not have let things get out of hand the way they did.’

  Lexi’s racing heart juddered to a standstill. Oh, no, not sorry, she thought bitterly. Let him be mocking, sarcastic—anything but pitying. She heard Steven’s voice inside her head.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lexi. I shouldn’t have allowed our relationship to develop when I knew that my girlfriend and baby were waiting for me back in England. It felt like you and I were in another world in Afghanistan. But the truth is that I’m not free to marry you because I already have a family.’

  Rejection was hurtful and humiliating. After Steven had dumped her she had vowed never to put herself in such a vulnerable position again.

  So what was she doing hovering outside her bedroom in the vain hope that Kadir might change his mind and take her to bed? How much more vulnerable could she feel? Kadir had been playing games with her ever since they’d met, Lexi thought grimly.

  ‘Good manners prevent me from telling you what you can do with your apology,’ she said, her voice so tightly wound that it shook with the strain of retaining her last dregs of pride. She opened her bedroom door and gave a cynical laugh. ‘I should thank you for stopping me from making the worst mistake of my life.’ Something in his darkly beautiful face made her insides twist. ‘Everything is a game to you, isn’t it?’

  ‘Damn it, Lexi. Of course I don’t think this is a game.’

  To Lexi’s astonishment, Kadir drove his clenched fist against the door frame, and it was a testament to the solidness of the wood that it did not splinter beneath the powerful blow. ‘The situation is complicated,’ he said savagely. ‘I want to spend the night with you and make love to you. But I am not free to do what I want.’

  ‘But...you are a Sultan. You can do whatever you like.’

  ‘I wish that were true.’

  Lexi felt a curious sense of déjà vu. Steven had admitted that he wasn’t free to be with her because he had a long-term partner and a child. She lifted her chin and stared into Kadir’s eyes. ‘Why are you not free?’

  An indefinable emotion flickered in his dark gaze. ‘I am betrothed to the princess of the mountain tribes in Zenhab.’

  ‘You’re engaged to be married?’ Her shock rapidly turned to anger. ‘Then what the hell were you doing coming on to me when presumably you are in love with your fiancée—you...cheating louse?’

  A nerve jumped in Kadir’s cheek. ‘I am not a cheat. Nor am I in love with Princess Haleema. I’ve never even met her.’ He saw the confusion in Lexi’s eyes and his tone softened. ‘We are not engaged as you would understand the word. A marriage arrangement was made by our families, and I had to agree to it to keep peace in Zenhab. After his stroke, my father was convinced that the marriage would forge stronger ties with the mountain tribes and ensure stability in the kingdom that had once been torn apart by civil war.’

  Lexi stared at him. The story of an arranged marriage sounded convenient, but she sensed that Kadir was telling her the truth. ‘I didn’t realise that arranged marriages took place in Zenhab.’

  ‘Forced marriages will not be allowed under the new law I have introduced. And in fact they are rare. Many families believe in arranged marriages where sons and daughters are introduced to a potential spouse, but marriage can only take place if it is the choice of the bride and groom.’

  ‘Did you have a choice about becoming engaged to the princess?’

  ‘No,’ Kadir said heavily. Agreeing to marry Haleema had been the only way he could claim the Crown—his birthright—from his uncle. ‘It was my father’s dying wish that I should ensure the future stability and safety of our country. Haleema was only a child at that time, but I gave my father my word that I would honour my promise and take her as my bride when she was old enough to marry. When I return to Zenhab I intend to fulfil my duty.’

  Lexi guessed it was a duty that weighed heavy on Kadir’s shoulders. She remembered Luca De Rossi had said that Kadir was prepared to devote his life to his kingdom and she felt a grudging respect for his determination to honour the promise he had made as a young man. But he had not treated her honourably, she thought with a flash of anger.

  ‘You should have been honest with me from the start. You had no right to...to flirt with me.’ She felt sick when she remembered his sexy smile and the
gleam of sensual promise in his eyes. The realisation that it had all been a game to him was humiliating. Just like Steven, Kadir had not considered her feelings, she thought painfully. He had kissed her and started to make love to her, knowing that he was promised to another woman. To both men, she had been unimportant, and the realisation opened up the raw feelings of rejection that had haunted her for years.

  ‘I know it was wrong of me to kiss you,’ Kadir growled. ‘I cannot deny that I desire you. From the moment we met, we were drawn to each other.’ He held her gaze and dared her to deny it. ‘But I give you my word that I won’t kiss you again, and when we are in Zenhab I will treat you with courtesy and respect.’

  ‘I can’t go to Zenhab with you now! How can we forget what nearly happened between us tonight?’

  ‘We have to forget,’ Kadir said harshly. ‘I still need a helicopter pilot.’

  ‘You could release me from my contract and employ another pilot.’

  He shook his head. ‘I chose you especially because one of your duties will be to fly Haleema between her home in the mountains and the palace. Her family are very traditional and she will only be permitted to travel with a female pilot.’

  ‘You want me to chaperone your fiancée?’ Lexi was tempted to tell him what he could do with his damned job, but hot on the heels of her temper was the realisation that she still had to repay her mother’s debts and she could not afford the financial penalty if she broke her contract with Kadir. It was also a question of pride. Kadir had guessed that she found him attractive, but if he could forget their passion that had almost blazed out of control in the summer house then so could she.

  She stepped into her bedroom and forced her lips into a dismissive smile. ‘Fine, I’ll come to Zenhab as per our agreement,’ she told him coolly. ‘I’m sure I’ll have no problem forgetting the regrettable incident that took place tonight, and from now on I will expect our relationship to be purely professional, Your Highness.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LEXI STARED OUT of the plane window at the seemingly unending expanse of saffron-coloured sand that had been wind-whipped into towering dunes and sinuous ridges which resembled a giant serpent writhing across the land. In the far distance she could see craggy grey mountains, beyond which, according to her guidebook, lay Zenhab’s wild and barren northern lands where a few ancient Bedouin tribes lived.

  Looking in the other direction, she saw the outlines of modern skyscrapers alongside elegant minarets and curving mosque roofs. Zenhab’s position in the Arabian Sea made it an important trading route, and its rich cultural history and architecture reflected the periods in time when the country had been under Portuguese and, later, Persian rule.

  As the plane flew over the capital city, Mezeira, Kadir’s chief adviser, Yusuf bin Hilal, pointed out places of interest. ‘There is the royal palace. You see how the pure white walls sparkle in the sunshine as though the stones are mixed with diamonds? They are not, of course,’ Yusuf explained. ‘The bricks contain a special kind of sand that gives the jewel effect.’

  ‘It looks like a fairy tale palace from Arabian Nights with all those towers and spires. It reminds me a little of the Taj Mahal in India.’

  ‘The people of Zenhab believe that our Sultan’s royal palace is the most beautiful building in the world,’ Yusuf said proudly.

  ‘I understand that in the past there was unrest in the mountain territories of Zenhab,’ Lexi commented.

  Yusuf nodded. ‘There was a terrible civil war. But the present Sultan’s father, Sultan Khalif, established peace in the kingdom and for the past decade his son has introduced a programme of liberalisation and modernisation that has resulted in economic growth for the country. Sultan Kadir works tirelessly to attract foreign business and investment to Zenhab and he is regarded by the majority of the population as an inspired leader.’

  Yusuf pointed to another building. ‘That is Zenhab’s first university, opened by Sultan Kadir five years ago and partly funded by him personally. His advancement of education for rich and poor alike, and especially for women, has gained him much support, and sadly a few enemies. The Sultan has received death threats, but he still insists on walking among his people whenever he can. He is a truly great man,’ Yusuf said reverently.

  Every member of Kadir’s staff that Lexi had spoken to seemed to share Yusuf’s opinion. Her own opinion of him as a playboy prince was changing since she had discovered that he was willing to sacrifice his right to choose a wife and had agreed to an arranged marriage because he believed it was best for his kingdom. She respected his determination to put his duty to his country above his personal desires, and she knew she should be grateful to him for being honest with her in Italy instead of taking her to bed. But she had lied when she’d told him that she would easily forget the passionate moments they had shared in the summer house. He dominated her thoughts, day and night, but now that they had arrived in Zenhab he would soon marry his Princess, she thought dully.

  She had not seen Kadir since they had boarded the plane and he had walked past his entourage of staff in the main cabin on his way to his private suite at the front. Once the plane had landed, she’d expected him to reappear, but there was no sign of him as she’d followed Yusuf down the steps and onto the tarmac. To her surprise, the members of Kadir’s staff who had travelled abroad with him stood with the plane’s crew, forming what appeared to be a reception committee, and Lexi had no option but to stand in line with them. ‘What’s happening?’ she whispered to Yusuf.

  ‘By tradition, when the Sultan returns home, glorious from his conquests and battles abroad, although, of course, he has business meetings now rather than battles,’ the adviser hastily explained, ‘he is escorted through the streets of the city to the palace by horsemen.’

  Yusuf’s voice was drowned out by the sound of thundering hooves and Lexi turned to see a great dust cloud, through which appeared thirty or so horsemen wearing traditional Zenhabian clothes—white robes with brightly coloured short-sleeved jackets on top and white headdresses which billowed behind them as the horsemen raced along the runway.

  Glancing up at the plane, Lexi’s heart lurched as Kadir appeared in the doorway and stood on the top step. Like the horsemen, he was dressed in a white robe, and his jacket was exquisitely embroidered in red and gold. At his waist he wore a wide leather belt and a terrifying-looking ceremonial knife in a jewelled holder. His white headdress, which Lexi knew was called a keffiyeh, was held in place by a circle of black and gold rope. He looked regal and remote, the powerful ruler of his desert kingdom, and far removed from his alter-ego of an English Earl.

  Even from the distance that separated Lexi from him, she could see the dark brilliance of his eyes. She could not stop herself from staring at him, riveted by his handsome face, and she felt the same curious ache in her heart that she had felt in Italy when he had admitted that he was not free to make love to her.

  He descended the steps and walked past the line of staff. Lexi found she was holding her breath as he came closer. She willed him to turn his head and notice her, but he strode straight past, leaving in his wake the spicy tang of his cologne that hung in the hot, still air and teased her senses.

  She closed her eyes, assailed by memories of when he had kissed her in the summer house at Lake Como. She remembered the heat of his body through his silk shirt, the feel of his hands on her skin when he had pulled her dress down and caressed her breasts. Frantically, she tried to block out the erotic images in her mind as she reminded herself that Kadir should not have kissed her because he was engaged to another woman. She felt as if a knife had sliced through her heart, and she swayed on her feet.

  ‘Miss Howard?’ Yusuf sounded anxious. ‘Are you going to faint? The heat of the desert can take some getting used to, especially for someone as fair-skinned and delicate-looking as yourself,’ the adviser murmured sympathetically.

  Lexi’s eyes snapped open. ‘I assure you I am not in the least delicate,’ she told Yusuf ter
sely. She was furious with herself for reacting to Kadir the way she had. It could not happen again. She was not a silly lovestruck girl, wilting beneath the desert sun and a surfeit of hormones. She had come to Zenhab to do a job and she must forget those passionate moments she had spent in the Sultan’s arms, as it appeared that he had forgotten her.

  Kadir had reached the group of horsemen and a huge black horse was brought to him. He swung himself into the saddle and reached behind his shoulder to withdraw a long curved sword from a jewelled scabbard that Lexi saw hanging down his back. The horsemen did likewise, and held their swords aloft, the steel blades glinting in the fierce sun as their Sultan gave a loud victory cry.

  The scene could have taken place centuries ago, when the great Islamic leader Saladin had fought the English King Richard in the Crusades, Lexi thought. This was the real Kadir Al Sulaimar, she realised. There was no sign of the charismatic playboy she had met when they had been in Europe. The Sultan of Zenhab looked stern and forbidding, yet she could not forget how his mouth had felt on hers when he had kissed her, his unexpected tenderness as he had teased her lips apart and explored her with his tongue.

  Her breath caught in her throat as Kadir turned his head and stared directly at her. Lexi had the strange sense that he was remembering the moments when they had fallen into each other’s arms in the summer house. But the gleam in his eyes must have been sunlight reflected off his sword. He turned away and gave a blood-curdling cry before he galloped his horse down the runway, pursued by the thirty horsemen, in a cloud of dust and flashing horses’ hooves and white keffiyeh’s streaming behind the cavalcade.

  * * *

 

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