Taken by the Sheikh

by Mel Teshco

  "Talk? You want to talk. How dare you treat me like this?"

  "I'm going to give you a choice as to how this is going to work. It's getting dark. I've paid the cleaners off. I can drug you and carry you onto my yacht or you can wear a robe and walk as a princess should."

  "You're kidnapping me? Is there any lower you can stoop?" If he treated her like this now, how would he treat her in his country where she'd be at his mercy?

  "You brought this on yourself by not facing your destiny. Do you think the wealth and privilege you've been born into comes without responsibility?" He untied her and held out his hand to help her up.

  "I expect to choose my own husband."

  "I am your husband."

  "Like hell you are." She ignored his proffered hand and scrambled to her feet. If he drugged her she'd have no chance. If she agreed to walk, she might be able to attract attention. Perhaps someone would call the police. She pushed past him and strode to the window looking out at the water. Her fingers gripped the windowpane, her knuckles white. Her apartment was the last on the pier, with a door that opened onto a large outdoor seating area and deck where the water lapped. Moored in the birth in front of her apartment floated an enormous white yacht. Her heart sank. The pier was private with a locked gate to stop others entering. Distressed, she forced herself not to let loose at Rafi and hit out at him as a small child would. It just gave him an excuse to hold her. He seemed to enjoy containing her by wrapping his large body around hers. A shudder passed through her at the thought of him claiming her and it was not entirely one of fear. She had to remain calm and think.

  Although there were other long piers stretching out on the crystal water of the cove that led to the sea, she'd chosen this particular apartment for the privacy it provided. All she'd needed was to get over her jetlag for a couple of days before she went further up North and disappeared.

  Too late.

  Already night was approaching. She could see people walking along the boardwalk in the distance. Normal couples. Women leading ordinary lives who could make their own mind up whether they wanted to marry or not, what career they wished to pursue and whether they desired children.

  Rafi moved behind her and put his arms either side of hers so he wasn't holding her but she was conscious of the warmth of his body on her back. Possession. "What you see out there. It can't be your life. You're royalty. You were born different. You have a destiny to fulfill."

  May spun around, hatred fuelling her anger. "Why can't you tell my father you don't want me? Tell him I have too much of my mother in me. Ask for your money back and marry someone else who wants you. I didn't ask for this so-called destiny."

  "But I do want you." His voice was low with promise.

  "No, you're honoring a deal that should never have been made. My mother insisted I be educated in England. I spent years visiting my grandparents here when they were alive. I don't think like an Arab princess. That must be obvious to you by now. Don't force me to go with you. You're making a mistake that will cause us both years of unhappiness."

  "No, we'll be happy. You're not the spoilt, unreasonable princess your father made you out to be. You have dreams and ambition, and I like your fiery nature."

  "Stop talking like you know me. You don't."

  "You'd be surprised how much I do know about you," he said.

  "Then you should understand, I don't want to be a powerful man's wife. I want my freedom." With him standing so close, she could feel his hard body against hers, knew what it was to have his lips pressed against intimate parts of her. She didn't doubt for a minute that Rafi would be a great lover but that alone would not make her happy. Independence. It was everything. Here in Australia, she could almost grasp it with her bare hands. This man. This rigid adherer to the old ways stood in her path.

  "Maysarah, you're not thinking clearly. You're your father's heir. If he dies, you'll have to assume your position. Qtara is stable at the moment, but with a woman by herself, the country will be rife for rebellion. You must have a strong, experienced husband by your side, one men respect."

  She glared at him. "You've been cut from my father's cloth."

  Rafi's whole body stiffened. "I'm a realist. I do my duty."

  "You're a rich man who has bought everything you want and throwing money has worked well for you so far. It won't with me. By marrying me, you have a shot at becoming a king which is far better than being a third son."

  "By marrying me, you'll get to keep your kingdom."

  "Ugh! Why do I bother trying to talk to you?" She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. There was no point trying to reason with him. Her father could still have an heir with his new wife and free her from this destiny but Rafi was tying her to it. She'd have to find a way to escape the moment an opportunity arose and she certainly couldn't do that if he drugged her.

  Rafi strode across the room and snatched up a small black duffle from behind the bedroom chair.

  She eyed him with suspicion. "You try and drug me, I'll scream. You'll have to kill me to stop me."

  Rafi flashed her a black-eyed glare, pulled open the top of the bag and extracted a burka, the long black robe worn by women in her country.

  May stepped back a pace. He'd thought of everything. With this robe and its black gauze covering the eyes, she would have difficulty seeing from side to side. She'd disappear into the night as if she'd never been here.

  "Put this on." He held it out to her.

  "Or what?"

  Rafi pulled out a small bottle filled with liquid and a syringe, uncapped the bottle and extracted some fluid. "You really want to find out?"

  Anxiety fluttered in her chest. There was no mistaking the dark dominance in his eyes. She snatched the robe from him. "I hate you. This will be a cursed marriage. I'll never forget you forced me to come with you."

  "Because there is no reasoning with you. You think you can live off your father's wealth and give nothing in return."

  "I want a normal life."

  "It doesn't work that way. You have a role to play. It's time you accepted that." He slung her bag over his shoulder as well as his backpack.

  May pulled the burka over her body, realizing it was one of the suffocating hot and heavy ones. In her country, women had the choice to wear the chador instead of the burka, which didn't cover the face. While Rafi replaced his headdress, she was conscious he still held the syringe in his hand. "I'm covered. Why are you keeping the syringe?"

  Rafi took her by the waist and forced her to walk by his side, out of her bedroom and toward the door leading to the pier. "One scream, one wrong movement and you'll find yourself waking up naked in my bed." Rafi propelled her out the sliding door and onto the large deck overlooking the bay.

  Immediately the hot air hit her and the burka became claustrophobic. She turned her head as she approached the pier, determined to see if anyone was close enough.

  "Keep walking," Rafi growled, his hand tightening on her waist.

  Music floated across the water from the restaurants on the boardwalk and in the distance she could hear laughter. Warm Mediterranean seafood smells wafted over and her heart pinched, poignant with regret. One scream and his hand would be over her mouth and that needle he carried hidden in his robe would be jammed into her. There wasn't a damned thing she could do to get away.

  Almost swept off her feet with the pace of Rafi's stride, she scurried along the pier until she arrived at the motor yacht. It looked large enough to be seafaring but motoring at night in these waters was treacherous even for the experienced.

  Rafi released her long enough to pull unravel the yacht's mooring rope. "Take the pier stairs and step across onto the deck. Lift your robe so you don't trip."

  Last chance. May spun around, ready to run but before she had time to think, Rafi grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder, climbed down the pier stairs with the agility of a lion and leapt over the brink onto the deck. He set her down and with a quick flick of his wrist, he undid the
mooring rope.

  "Come." He unlocked the door at the back of the yacht and stepped aside for her to enter before him.

  Maysarah stumbled as Rafi pushed her inside and locked the door behind him, pocketing the keys.

  "You can't possibly expect to drive this boat at night. You don't know these waters." She fought her way out of her burka, threw it on the floor and looked around her. The boat was luxurious with a corridor running from the back of the boat opening on to a large lounge and dining area. It seemed familiar. Very like her brother's.

  "We're not going far." Rafi strode to the controls situated at the bow of the boat and inserted his key. He shrugged the two bags off his shoulder and set them on the floor. "The faster I get you away from civilization the better. You’re like trying to contain a scalded cat."

  "I’ve already told you, I won't be controlled."

  He turned the key and the engines throbbed to life. He flicked a gaze over her and shrugged. "Behave yourself and I'll let you sleep on the deck under the stars." He threw the lever into reverse and edged his way out of the berth.

  "So long as I'm away from you."

  "You're my wife, Maysarah. Let's call this our honeymoon. Believe me, you won't be sleeping alone."

  Rafi looked forward to taking Maysarah in the open air under the stars. He expected that once she was used to the fact she was married, she'd realise her duty was to satisfy him just as he planned to sate her. He cast her a longing glance. Maysarah stood with her arms crossed in front of her, a mutinous expression on her face. Her long blond hair was wild with ringlets, her sea-green eyes narrowed and her mouth turned down and petulant. He ached for her despite her attitude. Even when not turning her fury on him, she had a wild, uncontrollable beauty. His cock stirred at the thought of tonight. "Sit or you'll fall."

  She did as he asked, flinging herself onto the lounge, her gaze riveted on the dark water ahead.

  He smiled. He could only imagine the maelstrom in his princess's mind as he motored along The Broadwater looking for a place to drop anchor for the night. He couldn't risk mooring in one of the busy marinas near the Spit because noise carried. Privacy was essential for what he had in mind. Maysarah's whispers and moans were all for him and not to be shared. He adjusted his hardening cock.

  May moved right under the bow, kneeling on a fixed lounge seat under the sloped fitted glass window, her nose pressed up close so she could make out the dark, murky shoreline. Rafi slowed the yacht so that it was bobbing gently in the water and she heard the chunking sound of the automatic anchor releasing. Although they were still on the main river way, the sheikh had chosen to cross the water away from the side of The Broadwater containing the marina and the fancy houses that went down to the shore. The yacht floated near what looked to be bushland intersected by a main road, where distant headlights flickered. There were no other boats nearby and no houses. Even if she jumped over the deck and swam to the shore, it would be full of mudflats and mangroves. All manner of creatures would be crawling in it. She'd be sucked down and drowned.

  "There are sharks."

  May started. "And you knew I considered swimming?”

  "You're transparent."

  She raised her eyebrows.

  Rafi turned the control key to off and the boat shuddered into silence. "Or perhaps it's the way your nose is pressed up against the glass."

  May immediately pushed herself back and sat. He was right, of course. She was an expressive person, but she certainly wouldn't be able to escape him if she was so obvious. "You read people well," she muttered.

  He pocketed the key and strode toward the open kitchen that adjoined the large lounge area. Taking down two glasses, he filled them with mineral water from the fridge and brought them over. "I joined the army when I was fifteen. My brothers Shahzad and Khalid did three years of service. The third son is expendable. I learned to be self-reliant and predict an enemy's thoughts, almost before he made them. It kept me alive." He held out the glass to her.

  She took it with gratitude, her throat parched. "If you can read me so well, you must know my mind. This marriage is archaic and foolish."

  "You're too young to decide on your own marriage. You've had a soft life." He sat next to her on the lounge and took in a long drink.

  Her spine stiffened. "You think I can't make a decision?" What an impossible infuriating prince.

  "You'll learn. You're just out of university." He reached out and clutched her under her chin.

  Disgusted by his attitude, May jerked her head aside to avoid his hand. "You don't give me much credit. I topped my class in design. My professor offered to recommend me to his contacts and awarded me a place on his post-graduate course."

  Shock resonated on Rafi's face. "You want to work a job serving foreigners after a life of living in palaces? You're a princess."

  She slammed down her glass. "I want the choice. I want normal experiences. Why is that concept so difficult to grasp? And there's nothing wrong with working for a living."

  Rafi settled back and finished his water, seemingly astounded by her view. He frowned and seemed to be considering her words. "There is much to be done in Omana if you wish to work in your field."

  "You'd let me do that? Work in design?" A small flutter of hope dawned in her chest.

  "If you desire to do so."

  "Women are not permitted to work in my father's country once they're married." Although May had studied hard for her design degree, she knew her father didn't value it. Nursing and teaching young children were suitable professions for women in his book. Men filled all other professions. Education made her a better-qualified marriage prospect. Outside, the water gently lapped against the hull of the boat. She knew Omana was more liberal than Qtara and the government there made sure all women went to school. Suddenly Rafi's company didn't seem so oppressive.

  "It is not my place to question your father's rule but if you become Queen, I'm certain you'll do things differently. You're a strong woman, the type of person who can bring in change provided you have backing."

  Her fingers clenched around her empty glass. "Every woman will be educated and allowed to have a career if I become queen."

  He glanced at her hand before meeting her gaze. "Change brings the prospect of rebellion. Our region is ancient and our people don't like things to be done differently."

  "The men don't, you mean."

  He leaned forward, raising his dark eyebrows, his gaze somber. "You'll need me if you wish to modernize your country when your time comes to rule."

  "You're assuming you'll be at my side."

  "You are my princess. I'll always be with you. It is my job to protect you." Rafi continued to hold her gaze, the heat in his eyes saying so much more than his words.

  A tremulous sensation passed through her, a memory of his determination to claim her. She didn't kid herself. There wasn't such a huge difference in age but his survival skillset far outshone hers. He was right when he said she didn't have enough world experience. And when he touched her. That was a whole level of sensation she'd never known, yet she didn't want to be some love-drunk princess hanging on to her husband's every word. She was about to counter him when her stomach rumbled.

  Rafi laughed, the amusement transforming his face from severe to handsome. He reached over and took her hand in his and his face returned to its usual serious expression. "Think of my words, Maysarah. Recent events make me fear for both our countries. There is much you need to learn if you wish to survive."

  "I don't want to be in Omana or Qtara." While her father lived, she never wished to see him or be near him again. Her mother had made sure she had an Australian passport and told her to make her own life away from the complexity of her country.

  "As my wife you'll stay with me."

  Her lips tightened. Trapped. It was pointless arguing with him. Their marriage was cemented as legal in his mind.

  "Come. Time to feed you." He gave her a look that brooked no argument, left the lounge and strolle
d over to the kitchen. "The refrigerator is stocked. Choose what you wish to eat."

  She followed him to the galley and peered in the refrigerator to see a salad of mushroom, quail's eggs and grilled haloumi cheese. There was also sliced rare beef with mustard prepared on a salver. Her mouth watered as she pulled both trays out of the refrigerator.

  Rafi took two dinner plates from a rack and placed them on the bench. "Help yourself. We have a long night ahead of us."

  May's chin snapped up.

  He picked up a bottle of wine from the counter, which had Arabic writing on it and the symbol of his house. Fitting a wine opener to the top of the bottle he pulled out the cork. The wine made a glugging noise as he poured it into two large glasses.

  She glanced at it, noticing it was made from the Syrah grapes his country was famous for growing. Alcohol was banned in her country, though her father drank whiskey.

  Rafi handed her a glass. "To us."

  Passion blazed in his dark eyes as he raised his glass to her. He'd taken off his black ghutra headdress that shadowed his face. With it gone he looked young and virile instead of fierce and shadowy. Rafi held himself with a stillness that May had never seen in another man. He reminded her of a desert lion hunting its prey. Every movement he made was fluid yet purposeful and she had no doubt that his lovemaking would be the same.

  May set her glass down on the bench, unable to drink. She didn't have any more words to express her deep resentment.

  He set his glass aside, moved in close and put his arms around her waist. "You have my word that I will look after you, sweet wife. You will beg for me."

  "No, I won't." She slapped her hands on his chest so he couldn't kiss her.

  Her flat out denial didn't dull the knowing glitter in his eyes. "The members of our royal houses have intermarried for over a thousand years. Our cells are intertwined. We belong together."

  Rafi was the most confident, handsome man she'd ever met. Unbidden, a thrill of arousal wove its way through her and settled between her legs. Like it or not something about him moved her and there was no taking back what had happened in her apartment. She managed to disengage herself from his arms, before she turned and picked up a plate. It was pointless arguing against him. It only seemed to make him more determined.