Hired to Wear the Sheikh's Ring

by Rachael Thomas

  ‘You are my legal wife. There is nothing to be done.’

  ‘I am your hired bride. You paid me to come here for three months. Surely that goes against one of your traditions. There must be a way out of this.’

  ‘The night we came to this very bedchamber after our wedding you were a virgin, untouched by any man, and in taking that from you I broke one of the most sacred beliefs of my country.’ He’d spent many hours dwelling on this fact. He’d married a virgin bride—unknowingly, but that changed nothing. Not when he’d allowed desire to consume him so intensely that he’d refused to adhere to the sacred tradition of the rules of Shamsumara, that a virgin bride could never be cast aside.

  ‘There are so many beliefs, so many traditions. We must have broken most of them just by signing the contract.’

  ‘That is true, but even though it wasn’t a real marriage I took something that was not rightfully mine to take.’ He moved closer to her and she looked up at him, her eyes searching his. ‘We could have lived with that secret, but now that you are carrying my child, it is very different.’

  She pushed her way past him, exasperation in every move she made, and he watched, a helpless sensation rushing over him. All he wanted to do was take away her pain, soothe her troubled mind.

  ‘It must have been that stupid flower.’ She flopped down to sit on the bed, her hands covering her face in a gesture of despair.

  Jafar had that sensation tight around his chest again and sat down next to her, pulling her hand gently from her face. ‘The flower is nothing more than a tradition. I hold myself totally responsible for the situation we are in now. I should have taken care of contraception—especially when you told me you were a virgin.’

  Her lips lifted into a sad smile. ‘It’s not all your fault. I wanted that night with you. I’m as much to blame.’

  ‘No.’ He could never allow her to take any blame. She might have driven him mad with desire, seduced him with her soft words of wanting one night, but she was inexperienced, he was not.

  ‘I just wish I had opened Lilly’s gift sooner.’ The regret and turmoil in her voice dragged his guilt further out into the open.

  ‘But you didn’t.’ He laid his hand over hers, shocked to feel how cool it was and eager to take away the blame she was pouring over herself. ‘Have you thought that fate has conspired to bring us together, to give us the baby that was created that night with such passion?’

  She blushed and that familiar rush of lust hurtled through him. Would he ever stop wanting this woman? ‘It wasn’t fate, Jafar. It was my innocence—or maybe ignorance.’

  He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. ‘I am honoured to have been the man you chose to be your first.’

  She pulled away from him. ‘I should never have done that. I don’t know what happened to me. Maybe it was the total fantasy of being in a desert kingdom, maybe I was trying to live the fairy tale. I’d longed for the perfect fairy-tale wedding and then here I was, with a man like you—on my wedding night.’

  ‘What are your true thoughts on marriage?’ He had to ask, had to know. He hadn’t told her yet that there was almost no way out of their marriage now that she carried his child and most certainly wouldn’t be if anything happened to his sister’s baby. He pressed that thought away, not daring to tempt fate by thinking it any more. His sister and her baby would be fine; they had to be.

  ‘My parents married because my mother fell pregnant with Bethany. Five years later I arrived but by then the marriage was already in trouble. I always thought I was a last-ditch attempt at making it work but love had turned sour and I don’t remember any affection between my parents. It was a relief when they finally split up and later divorced.’

  ‘It just proves there is no such thing as true love or one that lasts a lifetime. What brings a man and woman together is more basic than that.’

  Her brows furrowed together and the look of sadness in her eyes was almost unbearable. ‘Sex. It’s all about sex. I know. I had several boyfriends but never let them get close—in any way. I was searching for the impossible dream and being here with you on our wedding night was it, but I was wrong. I guess I just got carried away with the fantasy when really it was just sex.’

  Was she too hiding from her feelings towards him? ‘It was more than just sex. It was desire. Hot passion.’

  Tiffany jumped up as if she couldn’t bear being near him. ‘Whatever it was, it was wrong. It should never have happened. I just hope everything is all right with your sister and her baby. Then I can leave here and forget all this ever happened.’

  ‘Leave?’

  ‘Yes, leave, Jafar. I have to go back to my life.’

  ‘And what of my child?’

  ‘It’s a child you don’t want. You made that very clear and I will never bother you, never darken your door and demand anything from you emotionally or financially, you don’t have to worry about that, but I am leaving.’

  ‘I have a duty to my child, one that I intend to take very seriously.’ He stood up and inhaled deeply, instilling control back into him, blocking out the way he felt towards this woman.

  ‘I don’t want my baby to grow up as I did, Jafar.’ She looked at him, imploring him to understand, and he did, but he didn’t want her to leave, not now she carried his baby.

  ‘I will never allow that.’ His passionate response shocked him to the core. Already he was protective over the child their night of passion had created. It was far deeper than the need to protect his heir in a way he couldn’t yet understand. He needed time and space to deal with all he’d just discovered and the best way to get that was to go and see his sister. ‘I must go and see my sister. See for myself what has happened. You will remain here with Aaleyah until I return and only then will we discuss our marriage.’

  * * *

  Jafar’s threat had remained in the charged atmosphere of their suite long after the doctor had left, having declared the new Queen to be with child. Tiffany had been relieved when Jafar had told her he had to go to his sister, but that had been short-lived as he had called in Aaleyah, instructing her to remain with his wife every moment of the day and night while he was away.

  Aaleyah had done exactly as instructed and had remained with Tiffany throughout the day and night while Jafar had gone to see his sister. Now they had received word of his imminent return and her maid had left her alone to prepare yet another fragrant bath for her, although Tiffany secretly wondered if it wasn’t more for her ruler. The notion of that old-fashioned view still didn’t detract from the pleasure of the scented baths and all the pampering that went with it.

  Tiffany slipped out of one of the exquisite silk dresses she’d found waiting for her on arrival in Shamsumara and pulled on a white cotton dressing gown, preferring it to the gold silk she’d worn on her first morning of marriage. That seemed far too decadent now.

  She tied the belt at her waist, looking forward to soaking in the deep warm waters of the bath. It would soothe not only her troubled mind, but her weakened body. She looked in the mirror and rested her hands on her stomach, hardly able to believe she was pregnant with Jafar’s child, much less the way he’d calmly told her he would do anything to convince her to stay.

  Behind her she heard movement from the arch that led onto the small plant-filled garden set aside for her use alone. By day it was a cool shady place, a haven from the heat of the sun. By night it was lit by lanterns near the archway, but shrouded in darkness beyond.

  ‘Jafar?’ His name slipped from her lips even though she knew he hadn’t ever used this way into their suite. When no response came, fear slithered down her spine, but she reassured herself it must be Aaleyah. She tried not to let her imagination run riot, tried not to think of what or who could be in the darkness beyond the light from the lanterns. She was just being fanciful yet again and it had to stop.

  She turned back to the mirror and pulled her long hair from the pins that held it firmly away from her face and as it tumbled d
own her back she looked again in the mirror. How could she ever believe Jafar, a desert ruler, could fall in love with a pale-faced English girl when there were beautiful women around him like Niesha?

  She took in a deep breath as the woman who made no secret of her dislike for the English bride Jafar had returned home with forced her way back into Tiffany’s thoughts. She was in no doubt that something had happened between her husband and Niesha, although she knew enough of her husband’s view of honour to know it would not be happening now that they were both married.

  The rustling of leaves from the garden made her turn once again. ‘Who’s there?’

  She waited, holding her breath, but nothing. Slowly she walked towards the arch, stepping out beyond the soft yellow light of the lanterns into the darkness of the garden. Jafar wouldn’t torment her like this, wouldn’t send fear through her. She placed her hand on the cool marble of the arch and leant into the darkness, about to ask again.

  The hand that caught her face, pressing hard over her lips as the assailant stood behind her, was hard and calloused, a large ring pressing into her cheek. She tried to scream but the hand smothered her mouth.

  ‘Screaming will get you nowhere, Your Royal Highness.’ Simdan. She’d recognise that deep and menacing voice anywhere.

  She stopped struggling and stood, hating the smell of his hand on her face, but knowing that to show fear would be the worst thing possible with this man. She resisted the urge to struggle as he pushed her into the garden, into the darkness as menacing as the man who held his hand over her mouth. He forced her through a gateway and into a tunnel that was so black she had no idea where they were, then she saw stars high in the night sky as they emerged into the desert beyond the palace walls.

  Was he kidnapping her?

  ‘I have brought you here to strike a deal with you,’ Simdan said, putting his face close to hers. ‘And we both know how much you like to make deals.’

  ‘I think you should let me go.’ Tiffany forced the words from her, adamant this horrible man wouldn’t know just how terrified she was.

  He moved towards her and she backed up against the wall, realising very quickly how wrong that was. ‘Do you indeed?’

  ‘Yes, Jafar will return any moment now.’

  ‘How can you be so sure when he has gone to the mother of his heir.’ The laugh that erupted from Simdan turned Tiffany’s stomach over and she felt sick.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘To buy you just as easily as my cousin did.’ He laughed again. A cold sound that made her heart thud with fear as adrenalin raced around her. ‘I will pay you three times what he did—if you leave now.’

  ‘If I go anywhere it will not be because you have paid me.’ The reply rushed from her before she’d even thought if it was wise. As far as she was concerned she would be leaving because she wanted to, not because either of the desert Kings had paid her to do so.

  ‘If you stay, Your Royal Highness, I will expose your deal to the people of Shamsumara. I wonder how they will view their new Queen then. A hired bride. A bought woman.’

  She knew full well it was nothing to do with how the people thought of her, it was how they viewed their ruler. Jafar would lose their support and, without an heir, Simdan could make his claim to be ruler of the kingdom. She couldn’t stand by and allow the man she’d fallen in love with, the man whose child she now carried, be so completely destroyed.

  * * *

  Jafar returned to his marital suite to find it empty. Something was wrong. He could feel it on the warm breeze, sense it deep within him as if a connection had long ago been forged with Tiffany, a connection he’d fought hard against. His sister was well and her pregnancy was unthreatened and all he wanted to do was tell Tiffany he wanted her, wanted his child, that he wanted to try and fulfil her dreams.

  Aaleyah entered the suite and looked at Jafar. ‘Where is Her Highness?’

  ‘I assumed you were following orders and that you hadn’t left her alone?’ He’d known Simdan would try something to discredit his and Tiffany’s marriage, but had never expected him to stoop so low and take advantage of his sister’s fall and kidnap Tiffany.

  If she had left the suite by the main doors, the guards he’d thankfully had the foresight to place there would have seen her. There was only one other way out of the palace. The secret tunnel.

  Without a moment to lose Jafar rushed through the garden, the trickle of the water from the fountain now an ominous sound. He pushed open the wooden door in the archway with ease and then stepped into the tunnel. Tiffany’s scent that he knew so well lingered like a trail in the darkness.

  How could he have put her at such risk? How could he have done this to the woman he loved?

  He stopped in the tunnel. The echo of that thought made all the more powerful in the heavy darkness. He loved Tiffany. The bride he’d hired had found her way past every barrier he’d put around his heart. She’d unlocked the door to emotions he’d vowed never to succumb to.

  He swore savagely in his native language as he strode on through the darkness, pausing when he heard Simdan’s voice beyond the opening to the desert, low and threatening—and speaking in English, confirming his suspicions.

  ‘What else did Jafar get for his money?’ The suggestive snarl that followed this remark turned Jafar to ice and he gritted his teeth against the building hatred for his cousin. ‘Did he get this?’

  Jafar had no idea what this was, but from the protesting gasps Tiffany made he could well guess and, like a panther that had been stalking its prey, waiting for the opportune moment, he stealthily moved out of the darkness, finally ready to confront his enemy.

  * * *

  ‘Take your hands off her.’ Jafar’s hard voice filled the silence of the night and Tiffany’s relief was intense.

  Simdan backed away, his hands held up, proving he had no intention of touching her again. Revulsion filled her as he leered at her. ‘I was only taking from you what you took from me.’ He turned his attention back to Jafar. ‘You kissed Niesha. You couldn’t take it that she’d chosen me instead of you. You tried to seduce her, tried to break our union apart.’

  ‘What I took from Niesha was given gladly,’ Jafar fired back at his cousin, and Tiffany’s heart broke, right there in front of these warring men. The man she loved didn’t love her and never would. He was still in love with the woman his family had planned for him to marry, the woman who had married his cousin. Now the intense hatred between them made sense.

  Simdan’s eyes narrowed with aggression as he looked from her to Jafar, the darkness of the night unable to conceal the pure venom in them.

  ‘What you intend to take from my wife, however, is not given willingly. My wife is not yours for the taking.’ Jafar squared up to his adversary. ‘Just as my kingdom is not. Go back to your wife and child, Simdan. Focus on your own kingdom.’

  Guards burst out of the tunnel, grabbed Simdan, and Tiffany shrank back against the palace walls. Jafar gave instructions and, by the light of the half-moon and the stars, the foreign words, hard and unyielding, filling the night air, Tiffany almost fell to the sand. In silence she watched Simdan being taken away.

  Shock at what had just happened numbed her and she barely felt Jafar’s touch as he pulled her against him, but his warmth helped to soothe her panic as it gently thawed her. It did little for the pain in her heart knowing he didn’t really want her in his life, that the woman he wanted was now married to his cousin.

  She pulled back from Jafar, looking up at him as the cool night breeze of the desert played with her hair. ‘Your sister?’

  In the darkness she could feel his relief. ‘She and the baby are well.’

  There was only one more thing she needed to know and she had to ask him now. ‘Did you kiss Niesha?’

  ‘I’m not proud of it, but, yes, I did.’

  ‘Did she kiss you too?’ His hard words to his cousin replayed in her mind. What I took from Niesha was given gladly.

  Tiffan
y knew right there, as the stars sparkled in the night sky, that she couldn’t stay with Jafar. She was a fool to think she could see their deal through to the end, salvage his reputation, but she’d be even more of a fool to stay with a man who didn’t want her, much less love her. Now that she knew she was pregnant she had to leave. There was no way she wanted her child to grow up witnessing the kind of fierce rows she’d seen between parents who hadn’t wanted to be together. There might well be passion between her and Jafar now, but passion never lasted, not with a man like her husband. He’d soon find another woman more desirable, then another.

  ‘I’m leaving.’ She turned with her chin held high and marched as best she could in the sand back towards the tunnel. She didn’t want to go into the darkness again, but she wanted to stay out here with Jafar even less. She couldn’t stand the pain of even being near him knowing there wasn’t any hope of a future for her and her child with this man, despite his bold proclamations of duty and honour.

  ‘What do you mean you are leaving?’ Jafar caught her arm and pulled her round to face him.

  ‘I’m leaving Shamsumara right now.’

  ‘It’s the middle of the night and you are not in a fit state to travel,’ Jafar declared, and the lack of trying to dissuade her from leaving only made her certain it was the right thing to do.

  ‘There is nothing wrong with me.’

  ‘You are pregnant.’

  ‘And we both know that was not part of our deal, not what you wanted at all.’ She stood and stared at him, challenging him to say otherwise, daring him to break his terms.

  ‘It wasn’t, no.’

  ‘Now that your sister is well and the baby too, I think it’s best if I return to England.’

  He looked at her without saying a word, shadows from the palace walls falling over his face rendering it as unreadable as ever. His silence, his hesitancy confirmed she was doing the right thing. He didn’t want her or his baby.

  ‘At least wait until the morning. I will arrange for my plane to be on standby and if returning to England is still what you want I will not stop you, but don’t leave now. Not after what has just happened.’