Darius grunted, frowning as he glanced at her mouth, then her nose. He pulled out a white silk handkerchief from his pocket, and without hesitation reached out and dabbed at her face, just above her lips.
Startled, Jan swiped his hand away and stared at him. “What the hell?” she barked, looking around to see if anyone else was there. They were alone, and she was about to curse at him and then storm off, but then she saw the dots of bright red on his white silk kerchief. “What the hell?” she said again, her head buzzing when she realized it was blood. Her blood. Just a speck, and when she touched her face again there was no more. But it was clearly her blood.
The Sheikh grimaced and looked at his watch, his calm demeanor revealing a crack in it, like he was angry, upset, perhaps at himself. He looked into her eyes again, his own eyes soft with emotion, perhaps an apology. “Ya Allah, it seems mad, but this was the best way. The most honest way. Come, Jan. Lean on me. I do not want you to fall and break your glasses. I am not sure we will have time to have a new pair made before we get to Noramaar, and I would like you to see the Golden Oasis from the plane before we land.”
“What . . . the . . .” she gurgled when she felt her vision start to blur. The Sheikh came close and slid his arm around her waist just as she swooned and collapsed against his hard body. Through the haze she saw that empty tumbler, her lipstick smudge looking red and vibrant against the shimmering glass. She tried to say something again, but only gibberish came out. She looked into his eyes, a moment of clarity coming over her as she clawed at his muscled back while he held her firm. “Poison,” she managed to mutter, clenching her teeth and then absurdly trying to bite at his face as her thoughts slurred along with her words.
“Do not be ridiculous,” he whispered against her hair, and there was that beautiful, intoxicating smell of his body again. “Why would I poison the woman I am planning to marry? It is so much more Sheikh-worthy to simply drug and kidnap you, don’t you agree? Do not worry about the blood. In your drink was aruha, a natural extract from a desert cactus found in Noramaar. In high doses it can dry out the nasal passages very quickly, sometimes causing minor bleeding. Come now. Hold tight and relax. My plane awaits. My head cleric is on board, and your handmaidens are readying your wedding gown. In five hours you will be my wife, and the queen of Noramaar. After that I will explain everything, and then you will have the option of backing out if you so choose.”
“Psycho,” she managed to gurgle as she felt him lead her deeper into the interior of the hotel, down a heavily carpeted hallway, toward a white wooden door, beyond which she thought she could see her own future—a future where she was screaming wildly while still clawing at his muscular back. “Help,” she whispered weakly, wondering if she was walking or being carried, alive or in a dream-state on her way to the land of the dead. “Someone help. Psycho. You’re a goddamn psycho.”
“Perhaps,” he said, kicking open the door and dragging her out into the blinding sunshine, where a black limousine was waiting, its back door wide open, two bearded guards standing watch. “But look at the bright side. You can call your mother and tell her you just married a king. Here. See.”
She was sprawled haphazardly on the red leather backseat of the limousine, for some reason wondering why she wasn’t unconscious yet if she’d been drugged. She watched in semi-disbelief as the Sheikh opened a blue jewelry box, out of which stared a diamond the size of her eyeball, perched atop a ring of shimmering gold.
And then, finally, she passed out, amidst a swirling mental image of piercing green eyes and shining gold.
5
When Jan awoke she was firmly seatbelted into a plush reclining chair by a window that was as big as her dining table back home—which wouldn’t have been that remarkable if not for the fact that she was on an airplane. She blinked and looked down at her hands, wiggling her bare fingers and frowning because the last thing she remembered was being shown a wedding ring by the Arab serial killer who’d drugged and kidnapped her.
“I changed my mind,” he said, as if to explain why the ring wasn’t on her finger after all. She looked up and saw Darius calmly sitting across from her in a matching leather recliner, a steaming pot of tea on the smooth wooden table beside him. “My apologies for scaring you more than was necessary. The truth is, after meeting you in person, I have gotten turned around a bit. It is unusual. A bit troubling.”
Jan took a breath and blinked away the haze. She felt relatively clear-headed even though she could feel a dull ache at the base of her neck. She glanced down at her ringless fingers again, then at her bare thighs, realizing she was still in her skirt-suit and not the wedding dress that her abductor’s handmaidens were supposedly preparing for her.
“I’m not sure if I’m relieved or insulted,” she said, surprised at her own remark, even more surprised at her involuntary smile. Just like the encounter in the restroom, although by all signs this guy was unhinged and dangerous, she just didn’t get that creepy vibe from him. There was something about the way Darius carried himself that seemed supremely grounded, firmly centered, like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was doing it for a reason that was gravely important. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous, but they said Ted Bundy was good-looking too. Still, Jan trusted her instincts, and though this looked bad on paper, it felt disconcertingly OK to her gut.
“Why would you be insulted?” the Sheikh said with a frown, pouring two cups of the delicious-smelling spiced tea and placing one on her side-table.
“Because what does it say about me if a psycho kidnapper has a ring and wedding dress all set to go for his stolen bride and then says he’s changed his mind? I don’t know if that’s better or worse than being stood up at the altar! My mom would disown me! Can’t even get a serial-killer to go all the way, can you, Janice?” she said, taking a sip of the tea and shuddering at how the warm, sweet thickness of the milk made her feel. Suddenly she felt elated, and it hit her that maybe this desert-cactus extract did more than just knock you out. Jan hadn’t messed with drugs much, but she did understand biology, and she could tell that her serotonin-receptors were firing in overdrive. This was clearly a happy-time drug, and it was working. No wonder she was cracking one-liners with an Arab monster who’d just kidnapped her. “Oh, God, that’s good,” she said after taking another deep sip of the sugary-sweet tea, the warm milk making her feel safe and almost giddy with joy. “Now, this is the drug you should’ve used on me.”
The Sheikh’s frown deepened, and he rubbed the stubble on his chin, glancing out the window for a moment before looking into her eyes. “You are not angry?”
“Oh, believe me, I’m angry,” she said, sipping the tea again and crossing one leg over the other, not missing the way his eyes darted downwards before he quickly retrained them on her face. “But I’ve met my share of creepy dudes over the years. I don’t want to speak too soon, since everything you’ve said and done so far says you are in fact a psycho creepshow, but you just don’t give off that vibe. Don’t get me wrong, what you just did was beyond acceptable, clearly illegal, and will neither be forgotten nor forgiven. But I’m a practical person, and it’s clear that since I haven’t been dismembered, murdered, or raped while I was passed out, those probably aren’t your intentions.” She took another sip of the tea, licking her lips and sighing as she felt herself relax when she realized that what she just said actually did make a lot of sense. “Also, I think this cactus-drug has something to do with the fact that I’m angry but for some reason smiling my ass off.”
The Sheikh raised an eyebrow and put on an innocent look. “Interesting. That would explain why the men and women who harvest the aruha are always in such a good mood, even though they are sunburnt beyond recognition and covered in cactus-spines after a day in the desert.”
“Oh, please. You wanted to put me in this weird, uninhibited state of mind. You knew exactly what you were doing.”
The Sheik
h took a sip of his tea and shrugged. “I thought I did. Now I am not so sure.”
Jan looked into his eyes, trying to figure out if it was the drug or if she was really seeing something in his look. “What do you mean?”
“I am not sure what I mean, Janice.”
“OK, you can call me Jan now. I don’t like Janice. Even my mother doesn’t call me Janice.”
“Really? Why would your mother not call you by your given name? Did she not name you?”
“We are not talking about my mother right now. Don’t change the topic. You were about to apologize, I believe.”
The Sheikh frowned again and shook his head. “No. I do not lie, and I do not apologize.”
Jan laughed. “What else do you not do? Clearly, drugging and kidnapping someone is something that you do do!” She snickered like a schoolgirl. “Hee hee. I said doo-doo!”
The Sheikh tried to contain his smile. “I think perhaps we should have this conversation when you are sober, Professor Johansen.”
“I think if I were sober, Sheikh Darius, the only conversation we’d be having is about which country’s prison you’d be locked up in for what you just did. Maybe you could plead insanity and go to a psych ward for the rest of your days. Now, since you’ve got me in probably the best mood you’re ever going to see me in, this is your only shot at convincing me you’re not actually a psycho.”
Darius stayed silent, his eyes searching her face like he was looking for something. Then he glanced out the window, gesturing with his head as he looked down. “There,” he said softly. “The Golden Oasis. The waters of life. The only source of fresh water for almost five million people.”
Jan leaned over and looked out, and the sight took her breath away. A perfect circle of shimmering water, stretching so wide it looked like an ocean. Palm trees and desert flora lined the banks like a protective ring, boundless dunes of golden sand stretching in all directions beyond. It looked like a dream. A fantasy. Make believe. Sorta like the situation she was in right now.
“It’s gorgeous,” she whispered. “I’ve seen pictures, but they don’t do it justice.”
“Yes,” said the Sheikh. “Sometimes I too find that pictures do not do justice to the real thing.”
Something in the way he said it made her glance back at him, and Jan’s heart jumped when she saw how he was looking at her. Darius held the gaze for a long moment before suddenly turning away, as if he was afraid of what she’d see in his eyes. Too late, she thought. I already see it.
“Why am I here?” she asked, glancing at the Sheikh, then at the majestic oasis, finally back at him again. “What do you want from me? You’ve read my research. You mentioned shared marriages. You’ve threatened my career. Then you attempted to bribe me by saying you’ll help my career. Finally you drugged me and kidnapped me, even though I could see in your eyes that it wounded you to do so. You clearly had some plan to force me into marriage, but you seem to have backed away from that. And all of this is on the first day. So help me out here. I may be drugged up, but none of this makes sense.”
“My fear is that it will make even less sense once I explain,” said the Sheikh. “Ya Allah, perhaps I am insane. Perhaps the best thing is to turn back, drop you off in Dubai, and apologize even though I do not generally apologize for my actions.” He paused and clenched his jaw. “You know what, Jan? I am giving you that option right now. Say the word, and I deposit you back at your hotel in Dubai. I will provide you with any compensation you ask to make up for what I have put you through. I will distance myself from anything to do with your career, one way or the other, and you will never see me again. If you choose, the past ten hours can go down in history as a strange, unexplained adventure in your life. End of story. No explanation. Just an apology and a farewell.”
Jan took a breath and narrowed her eyes. Was he still playing her or was he serious? She couldn’t deny she was curious. A Sheikh follows her career, donates millions of dollars anonymously so he’d have leverage over her tenure in case he needed to either blackmail or bribe her in the future. Why her? She was still a relative nobody in her field. The only unique thing about her career was her latest theories on shared relationships and marriages, most of it only hinted at in public documents. Why such a deep interest?
She looked at him again. Had he always planned to give her this choice to back out before he told her everything? No, she decided. I don’t think so. I think he’s actually turned around a bit, like meeting me has messed up his plans, like he’s feeling that attraction too—an attraction that wasn’t part of the plan. And least not yet.
“Before I passed out,” she said, “you said something about how this was the most honest way. Which means you need to be honest first, and then I get to decide whether I want to go back to Dubai or not. You can’t force me to choose before I’ve heard the full story.”
The Sheikh thought for a moment. “The full story cannot be written without your help, Jan. And I was uncertain how to best secure your cooperation. I was prepared to try blackmail, bribery, coercion, kidnapping. The stakes are high enough that I was prepared to do anything to get you on board.”
“Pretty extreme, don’t you think? Why not just talk to me? That would have been a nice middle-ground between blackmail and kidnapping.”
Darius grinned. “Of course. Why did I not think of that.” Then he sighed. “Jan, if my predicament could be solved by words, we would not be here. The idea is so extreme that talking about it before I had some leverage over you would be pointless. You would either laugh at me or call me insane.”
“Seems pretty close to where we’re at now, I’d say,” she retorted. “Go on.”
“The other option was, of course, seduction,” he said, sipping his tea and meeting her gaze in a way that made her gasp.
“Excuse me?”
He ignored her surprise. “But that would have been dishonest. To get involved with you before you knew my motives would be wrong.”
“I think we’re getting a bit presumptuous here,” Jan said, still a bit shaken but trying her best to look indignant. “But go on. What are your motives?”
“It took me years to steady my resolve to follow this path. It is unprecedented, perhaps insane. But then once I decided to do it, I had to hedge my bets. I had to make sure I could turn to any method, based on your reaction.” He sighed again. “Of course, it was my own reaction that sent things down this admittedly extreme path. My reaction when I came face to face with you and felt the pull of an attraction so intense it scared me. That is when I knew that if I spent time with you, just talking, getting to know you, it would lead to . . . to . . .”
“To what?” Jan said, her breath catching as her heart raced to finish his sentence. “Lead to what?”
“Bloody hell there is no use,” he muttered, gritting his teeth. “I cannot fight it. Even though I know where this will lead.”
“What, Darius?” she said again, every fiber in her body tingling with electricity as the sun reflected off the waters of the Golden Oasis, casting both of them in shimmering golden light, the air around them sparkling, shining, glistening, gleaming. “Lead to what?”
“Lead to this,” he growled, and then he was on her, his lips pushing against hers, his hard body crushing hers into the plush seat, the teacups flying off the tables, their combined heat rising so fast she cried out in shock.
“Oh, God,” she moaned as her head spun and her body thrashed and the heat roared through her body with a force that shattered her will to resist. “Oh, God, Darius.”
He pulled back for a moment, looking into her flushed face as if searching for some indication that she wanted him to stop. But there was none, just her eyes looking into his, her body moving against his. So he leaned in again and he kissed her. By God, he kissed her.
6
The Sheikh wanted to pull away but the only pull was the force of attractio
n taking him deeper into her, deeper into this madness. His mind swirled as he pushed his tongue into her warm mouth, his fingers undoing her seatbelt and pulling her jacket open, his hands closing on her breasts as she moaned and gurgled into his mouth.
“Oh, God,” she moaned as he pinched her nipples so hard he felt her back arch, pushing her chest forward. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?”
“I will stop if you say it,” he muttered, pulling away from her and looking into her eyes. Would it matter if she said yes or no? Would he be able to stop? Was the drug still strong in her system? Was this already rape, no matter what she said? Ya Allah, he was no better than Ephraim, was he?! “Say no and I stop,” he muttered again even as he felt her nipples stiffen beneath her white satin blouse, the twin peaks hard and pointy like arrowheads between his thumbs and fingers.
“You wouldn’t be much of an evil Sheikh if you took the trouble to drug and kidnap me and then wimped out when it came to raping me,” she said, and the statement shocked him even as it gave him an erection so strong he almost passed out as the blood rushed from his head to meet the demands of his swollen cock.
Now he knew he wasn’t stopping, and with a roar he stood and pulled Jan off the seat, dragging her down the carpeted aisle of the plane and tossing her face-first into an overstuffed day-bed that stretched across the back of the plane. She screamed as he smacked her ass three times with all his strength, pushed up her skirt, and ripped her panties off, tearing them down the middle. He brought her panties to his face, sniffed deep of her scent, almost passing out again when he felt his balls tighten from the realization that she was wet for him, hot for him, ready for him.
He held her torn panties in his mouth, growling as he undid his heavy belt with his left hand, holding her face-down ass-up with his strong right arm. Her smooth round buttocks were turning an intense red from his hard slaps, and she was moaning and gasping from the shock of what had just happened.
Shared for the Sheikh: A Royal Billionaire Romance Novel (Curves for Sheikhs Series Book 10) Page 3