Alveus (ABC's Inc. Romance #1)

by Lara Earlman

  Dane narrowed his eyes at his grandmother, then turned his attention to Bravanger. Ed’s response was to remain silent; the look he returned to Dane was one that confessed resistance to a confrontation with Oma. Yeah, he got it… Both men knew that Marta Brighton never lost an argument. Gretchen opened her mouth to add more questions, abruptly snapping her lips shut at Oma’s stubborn countenance. The right side of Dane’s mouth involuntarily curled into a half grin.

  “It is a little bit strange, though…” Fani said, apparently oblivious to the undercurrent in the room, “I went by her home when Dad told us of her disappearance. Her uncle didn’t say anything about an engagement. In fact, Edith made a point to speak with me privately to voice her concern. You remember Edith; she’s been working for the Albertons since we were kids.” Dane remembered the sweet woman who had spoiled them all with her scrumptious baked goods. She kept the house in ship-shape condition and prepared the best American meals, ever. It took a stretch of the imagination to think of her still running the Alberton household – shoot, she seemed to be older than his grandparents, even back then.

  Fani continued, “Richard said that Lexi was on a world cruise, hoping to ease her grief, but Edith told me she found Lexi’s purse hidden in the back of her closet. Her passport, cell phone, and all of her ID was still in it.” She turned innocent eyes to Oma. “How did she get here without a passport?”

  Oma sighed, conceding to Dane.

  “The same way she left,” he admitted. “Look, I’ve been kicking myself in the ass since she disappeared. I didn’t know who she was until your father told me, and I certainly didn’t know what she’d gone through. She never said…” Dane could feel the mixed emotions and unbelief emanating from the Carstens. “I know, I’m a duffer for trusting Keith; so save your retribution for later, right now we have to get Aly home with her honor intact.”

  “Aly?”

  »ɞ»ɞ«ɞ«

  Elegantly dressed in shades of gold, Lexi was escorted onto the dais where Sheikh Saleh of Hejd presided over a large, affluent (if appearances could be trusted) audience. The leader had already offered up a grandiose speech, concluding with the lavish presentation of several extravagant gifts to his newly appointed crown prince. She was the last offering to be awarded. The crowd’s previously enthusiastic response seemed to wan slightly with her appearance. Perhaps the sheikh’s admirers did not share in his predisposition for ownership of a human being.

  Prince Ahmad, already flying high as the focal point of his father’s adulation, displayed an atypical surprise upon recognizing her.

  “Mine?” he asked, actually dumbfounded. “She’s mine, Father?”

  Lexi could feel the sheikh’s heated gaze on her, though her eyes remained glued to an intricate tapestry on the far wall.

  “Yes, Son; but be warned, her temper is as fiery as the color of her hair.”

  Ahmad smiled as he circled her, his hand playing along her hip and buttocks before placing himself in her line of sight. Lexi ignored his attempt to lock eyes, staring through him, instead – as if he didn’t exist. Of course, she could still sense his ire rising in challenge. With his back to the guests, the prince reached up between them and gave her left breast a harsh pinch. Involuntarily, her eyes fastened onto his, firing off a kill shot. Releasing a satisfied laugh, Ahmad turned to the sheikh.

  “Father, this is indeed a rare and precious gem,” he said. “I shall take great enjoyment from it.” He didn’t bother to hide the sadistic insinuation in his last words. The sheikh slapped him on the back, clearly pleased at his son’s approval.

  “I know you will, Ahmad; I know you will,” he repeated.

  Lexi sat on a small padded stool situated inside luxurious sleeping quarters. There was no need to guess what awaited her, especially while wearing the attire (or lack thereof) she had been given to put on. The new crown prince must have a preference for lingerie, judging by the simple pale pink bra and panties she wore beneath a sheer lacy peignoir. She was surprised then, when the door opened and two women walked in. Well, a pregnant woman and a preteen girl, to be exact.

  The scowl on the woman’s face put Lexi in remembrance of seeing her earlier, seated at a prominent table during the prince’s reception. She had been glaring then as well. While she assessed Lexi with open hostility, the young girl spoke.

  “I am Princess Fatiha, sister to Prince Ahmad,” the girl said in heavily accented English. She gestured to the pregnant woman. “This is my brother’s wife; she carries his first child.” The woman opened her mouth, spewing out words of anger. Lexi was unfamiliar with the tongue, but understood the hatred in her tone. Fatiha nodded assuredly to her sister-in-law.

  “She wishes for me to stress that you are not to get in your head that you are anything more than an infidel, and you will not spawn an evil child using Ahmad’s seed.” The woman thrust a small bottle at Lexi. “You are to drink that after he has finished with you,” the girl continued. Lexi took the bottle and smiled at Ahmad’s wife.

  “I promise you that I won’t be needing this,” she told them. “I

  have no intention of allowing his princely seed anywhere near me. If you would like to guarantee that, I would welcome your help in leaving this place.”

  The two women exchanged words; an unfathomable grin grew on the elder’s face. The young princess turned to Lexi with a combination of fear and pity.

  “This is the Rub' al Khali… what you call the Empty Quarter,” she explained. “We are surrounded by desert. There is no way through it alive without proper transport. Please, do as my brother asks,” she pled, picking up the bottle of liquid Lexi had set on a table. “And drink this when he sleeps.” The prince’s wife grabbed Fatiha’s arm and nudged her out the door. Throwing a last look of warning toward Lexi, she closed it behind them.

  Within minutes of their departure, the crown prince swept into the room and eagerly approached her.

  “Ah, my beautiful gem,” he said, reaching out to caress Lexi’s cheek. He ran his fingers through her hair and slid the peignoir off her shoulder. His hands were gentle, as were the lips he brushed across her bare shoulder. Ahmad’s tongue came out to lick the spot, quickly followed with a painful bite as he sunk his teeth into her skin. Lexi drew away.

  “No, my dear, you do not pull away from me,” he said gruffly.

  “Surely even you can understand basic instinct,” she replied. “Only a masochist or a madman eases closer to pain… I am neither.”

  “I gave you no permission to speak,” he said. Grabbing her roughly by the shoulders, he leaned toward her face. “You will learn to enjoy my touch,” he growled, taking another bite, this time at her cheek.

  Lexi pushed him away and slapped his face. “And you would do to learn a little respect!” She placed her hand protectively over her cheek. He’d broken through the skin, again! Good God, was he some kind of a cannibal? Bracing herself for his expected retaliation, she was thrown off balance when he laughed and began to disrobe. Taking advantage of her newfound boldness, Lexi turned her back to the prince and headed for the exit. He didn’t try to stop her – there was no need. When she opened the door, a guard blocked the way out.

  “Close the door,” Prince Ahmad demanded. Lexi made an about-face and felt the door being yanked from her hand as the guard complied with the prince’s order. “Now, remove your clothing… slowly, and stretch out on the bed.”

  Her legs stubbornly immovable, Lexi drew the lacy robe tighter across the front of her body. Watching her expectantly, Ahmad paced the floor with a bemused smile on his face. It was obvious that he enjoyed the challenge she involuntarily put forth. They were at a standoff; and as she watched him strut his naked body before her, an effervescence of absurdity bubbled its way slowly to the surface. He resembled a peacock attempting to impress a mate, his erect manhood bobbing with each arrogant step. Hysteria took over and Lexi began to laugh.

  A sharp slap across the face usually works to put an end to hysteria, but it seemed
to have the opposite effect on Lexi. Tears of hilarity began to stream down her face as she bent over to clasp her aching belly. One could not expect the spoiled, pampered, crown prince to ignore such a blow to his self-esteem, and so one slap turned into several strikes to Lexi’s body. The laughing worked like nitrous oxide, numbing the pain, and she couldn’t stop it now if she tried. Finally, a particularly hard blow from the prince knocked her off of her feet. Stumbling backward, her head hit the solid edge of a table, rendering her unconscious.

  Lexi woke to a throbbing headache and a burning desire to know where she was, and importantly, how she had gotten there. Her brain was painfully slow to oblige, forcing her to pry her eyes open in order to solve the mystery. The light, although dim, evoked an involuntary groan. With a rustle, an elderly woman pushed herself up from a chair in the corner and approached her. She reached into a basin sitting on the table next to the bed and removed a dripping cloth. Wringing out the excess water, she gently placed the cool rag on Lexi’s head.

  “Thank you,” Lexi murmured. It felt good. She brought a hand up to press it tighter against her aching forehead. The old woman nodded and with soothing sounds, tilted Lexi’s head toward the glass of water she held for her. Making sure she drank several sips, the woman helped her to ease her head back onto the pillow and then left the room.

  The small room was sparsely furnished with a chair, a table, a bureau, and the bed. Aside from the door the old woman exited, there was another narrow door, probably leading to a tiny closet, and one small window covered with heavy draping. With nothing of interest to see, Lexi closed her eyes and pulled the cool rag down over them. Her memories began to surface and she realized that she’d dodged one bullet, only to be impaled by another. Is that what her future held in store – choosing which pain she would rather endure?

  Lexi’s parents had brought her up believing that she was someone special. They emphasized that the most important gift a person could give to another was to give themselves – body and soul. It was a gift that could not be taken by force, it must be given freely. Alex and Alicia Alberton practiced what they preached. They were the embodiment of true love. Lexi worried that once that gift was stolen, love would be out of her reach forever. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening to Princess Fatiha.

  “I have brought you some pain medication,” she said, tucking a small folded cloth under Lexi’s pillow. “You must keep them hidden; my brother wishes you to suffer. I did try to warn you.” Sitting on the side of the bed, she placed a pill on Lexi’s tongue and held out the glass.

  “Thank you,” Lexi said, after swallowing the medication. “Won’t you get into trouble by helping me?”

  “Do not worry, I am quite a spoiled princess,” she laughed. “That does not mean I agree on how my father and brothers treat their women. I like that you do not lower your eyes or bow your head when they are in the room. You are strong and beautiful.” Fatiha stroked Lexi’s hair, and then the cheek her brother had bitten. “I will bring something to heal this on my next visit.” She stood up to leave.

  “Wait,” Lexi said, “where am I? Do you know what is expected of me, now?”

  “You are in your room,” the princess replied. “It is not locked. When you are well enough, you may go into the common room to gossip with my father’s concubines. There are guards that keep unwanted visitors out of the women’s wing and will remind you not to wander unescorted into the royal areas of the palace. Mostly they are here for your protection. The women are free to wander the grounds and have their own pool. You will be well taken care of. My brother will not call for you until your wounds are healed. He does not like to see the results of his anger.”

  “And the old woman that was in my room – who is she?”

  “That is Salma,” Fatiha explained, “she takes care of the women. They think of her as a mother, although be aware that she reports everything to my father’s first wife. I must go now. I will return with the medication for your face.”

  Lexi slept a good bit the next two days. True to her word, young Fatiha applied medication to her bite marks and they began healing. Salma kept a watchful eye over her, making sure she was drinking plenty of water and the broth she brought. By the third day, Lexi was becoming restless. The view out her window shared little more than a landscape of sand, and although her body was still bruised and stiff, Lexi determined to see what lay beyond the four walls of her room. She found a pair of jeans (slightly big) and a short sleeved cotton shirt in the closet. After painfully pulling them on, she opened the door and ventured out.

  Lexi knew that the room opposite hers was the bathroom she’d been introduced to early on, so she followed her ears down a long hallway, honing in on the casual rhythm of female voices. She passed a few open doorways affording her glimpses into bedroom suites with feminine décor. Her stomach growled at the enticing scent of food cooking – how long had it been since she’d eaten an actual meal? Continuing on, she could see that the hall ended with two open rooms, left and right. A girl crossed from the right and upon spotting Lexi turned back to announce her presence. Within nanoseconds the hall was filled with a half a dozen women of diverse age. One thing they all had in common – each had a unique beauty.

  Rooted to the spot, Lexi’s hand rose up to cover her injured cheek self-consciously. She waited, uncertain what to do, while the women discussed her presence among themselves. So, this was the Sheikh’s harem. He certainly likes variety. Yes, a couple of the ladies looked to be of middle-eastern descent, but there were also two blondes, a girl with pale skin, freckles, and light brown hair and a dark-skinned African. The eldest looked to be in her mid-thirties, and the youngest appeared barely into her teens. Their clothing was casual, shorts, yoga pants and jeans with light cotton tops. They all seemed content enough.

  A commanding voice barked out some orders in Arabic and the girls opened ranks to allow Salma to come through. She took Lexi by the hand and drew her into the room on the left, patting her reassuringly. She continued to chatter in her native tongue as she gestured for Lexi to sit at the large table. The rest of the women filled the chairs around her.

  “UK?” A tall leggy blonde asked.

  “American,” Lexi replied.

  “Oh, it’s just that your coloring…”

  “My mother’s family was Irish,” she shared. “Aussie?”

  The blonde nodded, “Yes, I’m Clare. You’re our first American. I’m surprised; Sheikh Saleh has never been fond of your countrymen.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess his nasty little son is. Cadie over there,” she pointed to the girl of African descent, “is French Canadian. Ginny is Welch,” she gestured to the brown headed girl, “Anna, the other blonde, is from Denmark, and Mickey and Minnie over there are from Turkey.” The two women glared at my informant. “They hate their nicknames, but nobody can pronounce their real names to their satisfaction.” She stuck her tongue out at them.

  Salma brought in a steaming plate, filled with meat, rice and green vegetables, and plunked it down in front of her. She spouted out a string of Arabic, causing the girls to jump from their seats and fetch their own plates.

  “Oh, I could have…” Lexi felt bad that she was being treated different from the others. Salma patted her shoulder and gestured for her to eat. Soft reassuring words accompanied her touch.

  “She said not to worry, you may help when you are well enough,” Clare said, sliding back into the seat next to hers. “She knows what a bastard Ahmad is. Every girl he’s ‘borrowed’ from his father has had to recover from their time spent with him. Never known him to bite their face before, though, or knock them out, either. I sure don’t envy you.” Lexi’s new friend turned her attention to her food and she followed her lead. It probably wouldn’t be prudent to explain how she’d encourage his temper by her reaction to the prince’s nude overtures.

  A couple of days later, Lexi was lounging by the pool with the other girls when she heard the sound of horses approaching
. She wasn’t the only one alerted, the women became excited and flustered as the horsemen drew close. Lexi set aside the magazine she was browsing to watch the women with amused curiosity. It was obvious they knew who the riders were, and they were frantically checking out their reflections in the large patio windows – straightening their clothing and fluffing up hair. Even Clare, putting out an air of indifference, straightened her shoulders in an attempt to show off her assets to their best advantage. Seriously? Lexi felt a tug of sadness toward the women, as the identity of the visitors became clear to her, as well – Sheikh Saleh and Prince Ahmad.

  Surprisingly amiable, and wearing the first genuine smile Lexi had ever seen on his face, the sheikh fawned over the girls like a child with a fresh litter of kittens. They reciprocated in kind, eagerly surrounding him – except for Clare. She dutifully remained seated on the lounge next to Lexi’s.

  “Go,” Lexi whispered to her friend. Her protective presence only served to draw more unwanted attention toward her. She picked up the abandoned magazine and focused on an article about a well-known rock star.

  “I don’t trust that little bastard prince,” Clare replied.

  “I’m sure he’s not a bastard, else the sheikh would not have made him the heir to the throne,” Lexi retorted. Her friend conceded with a laugh.

  “Clare, my beauty,” Sheikh Saleh called, “come, I’ve brought you a trinket. In honor of the new addition to your community, I’ve gotten all of my beautiful flowers a special gift.” He spoke in his mother tongue, but Lexi understood the words. She’d picked up a lot of the language while listening to the women’s chatter.

  Clare eased from her chair and patted Lexi reassuringly on the arm, before strolling seductively toward the sheikh. “Just waiting my turn, Your Excellency,” she cooed, turning the title into a double-entendre.

  More like sugar daddy Lexi thought, as she watched Saleh stroke her friend intimately before placing a glittering bracelet around her ankle. Straightening up, he kissed her neck affectionately, whispering into her ear. “Gag me,” Lexi murmured, feeling the truth to her statement as her stomach churned to acid.