by Annie West
‘You dare to question my morals? This is the thanks I receive after all I’ve done for you?’
Lina’s ingratitude stung. Yet at the same time Sayid felt something more. A quickening of dark excitement as she stood up to him.
Heat bloomed anew in her pale face, dark red flagging her high cheekbones. Yet still she didn’t back down. Either she’d completely forgotten whom she was talking to or she was more recklessly courageous than any adult male in the country. For none would meet him head-on like this.
‘You want my gratitude?’ She almost spat the word at him. ‘You have it. You’ve had it for over four years. Why do you think I worked so hard at that school, even in the beginning when it was pure torment? Why do you think I stuck it out? To prove your faith in me was justified. That I wouldn’t let you down. Day after day I ignored the ridicule and teasing, the fear that maybe I didn’t have it in me to succeed. Because I wanted you to be proud of me.’
Sayid frowned. This was the first he’d heard of ridicule or teasing. Surely he’d have been informed—
‘Not that you were interested. I never heard from you, not once in all that time.’ She hefted a quick breath that did something strange to his internal organs. ‘But that didn’t matter. I kept at it because I was grateful, and because I wanted an education. I’m working with your educators to pay off the debt I owe you, because I’m grateful and—’
‘Enough!’ Sayid put up his hand, horrified at the undercurrent of emotions her words evoked. Emotions he couldn’t, didn’t want to name, but which left him raw and weakened. As if someone had taken a sword to his knees, cutting off the strength in his limbs. ‘There is no debt. You’re free to leave.’
‘With a husband you choose for me?’ She shook her head so violently her ebony hair swung wide, brushing his upraised hand, drawing his body to instant arousal.
Instantly he was back in the courtyard last night, that silky weight caressing his bare skin as he drove his tongue into her mouth, going mad on the taste and feel of her. On the untrammelled hunger he’d never be able to sate.
‘No, thank you.’ She was as proud as an empress, looking down her nose at him, even from her inferior height. ‘I’ll work off my debt as agreed. In the position you created to appease my pride.’ He must have started because she nodded. ‘Even I can see you don’t need me when you’ve got trained professionals to do the job. But I’ll stick at it because I’m grateful and I pay back my debts.’
Fleetingly he thought of telling her those professionals thought she was more effective than the rest of them put together. But that could wait.
Sayid didn’t know if it was the sniping way she said she was grateful, or the thought of her staying in the palace for months, possibly years, till her conscience told her she’d paid off the debt of her education.
Maybe it was the flare of unfamiliar recklessness engendered by her jabs at his conscience.
Or the heady rush of adrenaline from being so close to Lina when she forgot herself and transformed into this magnificent, proud, indomitable, desirable woman.
Suddenly all the leashes, the checks and stays Sayid had placed on his baser impulses snapped. There was a roaring in his ears, a feeling of release as he leaned across the desk so his words feathered her lips.
‘If you’re so determined to pay back your debt to me, Lina, there’s a much better way.’
He saw her eyes widen, a flare of brilliant violet alive with...trepidation or excitement?
There was one way to find out.
‘Come to my bed. Be my lover for a week and the debt is cancelled.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
SILENCE THUNDERED BETWEEN THEM. A bold, heavy silence that throbbed with the beat of his blood and the sound of her indrawn breath.
Sayid waited for shame to engulf him at his outrageous, inexcusable suggestion. But it didn’t come. Instead there was relief at finally conceding his need for her, despite the dictates of honour and obligation.
Of course, she’d be horribly embarrassed by his proposition.
Yet Lina didn’t look away. Nor did she move back, though he’d thrust his head so close to hers he was just about in kissing distance. All he had to do was wrap his hand around the nape of her neck and tug.
Would she resist? Would she curse and spit and claw at his face?
Not this woman, he realised.
Not when her eyes blazed with surprise. And could it be? A hint of curiosity?
Not a smidgen of outrage in sight. No embarrassment or shyness.
Lina stared back at him, lips slightly parted as if she couldn’t pull in enough oxygen, breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath, with her face still upturned to his.
Not like a supplicant or a charity case.
Why had he ever thought her shy? Because in the past she’d ducked her head and called him by his title, deferring to him? But of course she’d do that. He was her ruler. Her whole future depended on him. Hadn’t he been fascinated by the flashes he’d seen of her spirit, like when she’d refused to accept his charity unless she could repay him?
Then there was the way she told you she wanted you to kiss her.
She looked at him with the bright, steady gaze of a woman considering his words, assessing him as an equal.
He liked it, he realised with a blast of exhilaration.
Her tongue slipped out to moisten her lower lip and Sayid’s belly clenched. Yet he’d swear the action wasn’t intentional flirtation, not now her forehead puckered in confusion.
‘Why only a week?’
Of all the things she might have said, Lina chose merely to query his time limit?
What a woman! Sayid admired her forthrightness, her lack of coyness. And, of course, the fact she hadn’t instantly dismissed his proposal.
He’d thrown out the proposition because he’d reached the end of his patience. And he admitted darkly, just possibly to frighten her into submission. But it seemed she was actually considering it.
Savagely he repressed a smile, knowing it would surely reveal his rapaciousness. Lina had sorely tested him and now, with the echo of his proposition hanging in the air between them, it was hard to claw back even a fraction of the self-denial he’d worked hard to maintain.
‘I only take lovers for a week. That’s all the time I can spare.’ Having a self-imposed deadline ensured he’d return his focus to his official responsibilities and not be tempted into a life of sybaritic luxury like his uncle.
To his amazement, Lina’s lips twitched. Was that a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes? What had happened to the virago who taunted and obstructed him?
‘Because you’re in such demand?’
Sayid felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, until she lifted her hands from the desk and straightened. Instantly he missed her nearness, but he resisted the impulse to stalk around the desk and crowd her.
He was too proud to try to coerce her. Wasn’t he?
‘Because I believe in setting limits. Pleasure can become a weakness if it’s uncontrolled.’
Slowly she nodded. ‘I see. Plus of course you wouldn’t want any woman getting ideas of permanency.’
It was true, but that had never been a problem. Once he’d had his week with a woman she was sent off with a fond farewell and enough lavish gifts to sweeten the parting.
Sayid didn’t bother to mention that his women were usually foreigners, more ready to accept a week of luxury and erotic pleasure for what it was—mutual enjoyment with no strings attached. It struck him that Lina’s attitude reflected the years she’d lived away from Halarq. Most Halarqi women would expect marriage before sex. But she took this proposition in her stride. It seemed her mores were more western than Halarqi now. No doubt she’d sampled those western freedoms. That probably explained too her unwillingness to marry.
He was torn between plea
sure that she’d been more amenable to his suggestion and a stirring of vague discontent at the idea of her with other men. Even the notion of her leaving the palace and settling down some time in the future with a worthy husband was strangely disquieting.
Sayid yanked his straying thoughts back in line.
‘You’re not saying anything.’ The lengthening silence goaded him. He was used to women falling over themselves to please him. Firmly he repressed the voice of his conscience protesting that what he asked was scandalous and indecent—taking advantage of a woman under his protection.
Yet the situation wasn’t so simple. It was clear Sayid had to re-evaluate Lina. Yes, she was under his protection, but she wasn’t afraid to stand up to him and speak her mind.
‘I’m surprised.’ For a second she looked away and he wondered if, after all, he was wrong. Was she distressed? Then she slanted her gaze in his direction and he felt that bone-deep sizzle of sensual connection. ‘I didn’t think you wanted me like that.’
‘Even after last night?’ It seemed impossible.
She shrugged, yet he had the impression she wasn’t as composed as before. ‘Men respond to certain stimuli. We were almost naked and I told you I wanted you to kiss me.’ She paused and made a production of pushing her hair back over her shoulders. ‘I assumed it was more to do with the moment than me.’
Sayid crossed his arms over his chest and felt the pound of his heart, heavy and quick. Thinking about that embrace had occupied most of the night, in between devising a scheme to get Lina out of the palace.
Now he decided the palace was exactly the place for her. Specifically in his bed.
‘You assumed wrong.’ His voice dropped to a rough note that made her start. Had he frightened her? She might be experienced but Sayid was a man of strong passions and right now they simmered close to the surface.
Lina tilted her head as if to read him better, but he had no intention of saying more, lest he find himself trying to persuade her to accept. He’d never begged for a woman in his life and he wasn’t about to begin.
‘I...see.’ She fiddled with the scarf knotted around her waist. So she was nervous after all. He told himself to back off, but he couldn’t.
‘And your answer?’ The words were abrupt, not at all lover-like.
‘I’ll have to think about it.’
* * *
‘O seu Xeque é bastante atraente.’ Your sheikh is very handsome.
Even in Portuguese the words made Lina shiver. Not her sheikh, though she didn’t bother to say that to Senhora Neves, sitting beside her at the royal feast.
But he could be yours. All you have to do is say yes.
A ripple of decadent delight shivered across Lina’s skin, raising goosebumps against the slippery fabric of the dress she’d spent the afternoon finishing. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs.
Would she say yes to his outrageous suggestion?
Could she?
It went against everything she’d been taught or ever expected for herself. Yet temptation was strong.
‘E ele olha para você o tempo todo.’ And he looks at you all the time.
Lina’s head swung round towards the head of the table where Sayid was talking to one of his governors and Senhor Neves, the head of the Brazilian mining consortium bidding to open up newly discovered deposits of gems on the edge of the desert. The Emir’s attention was fixed on his companions, not her.
If he’d glanced this way it was just to see if she was holding her own with Senhora Neves. The woman spoke no Arabic and little English and the interpreter Sayid had arranged had been struck down with tonsillitis.
Lina smiled. ‘Ele está apenas preocupado com o meu Português.’ He’s just worried about my Portuguese.
The other woman shook her head. ‘Eu não acho que ele esteja a pensar em habilidades linguísticas.’ I don’t think it’s your language skills on his mind.
Heat scalded Lina’s throat and cheeks. Surely he wasn’t so obvious?
The older woman placed a hand on her arm and gently changed the subject, asking where Lina had purchased her dress, then expressing admiration when she discovered it was home-made.
Slowly Lina let herself relax. She should be pleased her rather basic Portuguese, learned from some of the girls at school, allowed her to keep Senhora Neves company tonight. Pleased too at the compliments over her dressmaking skill. She’d laboured over this dress, wanting to look her best so she wouldn’t seem too out of place among tonight’s sophisticated guests.
Who was she fooling? She wanted to look good for Sayid. Wanted him to admire her as he admired the women he usually invited to share his bed.
Why had he invited her to be his lover?
She still found it hard to believe he had. Tonight, as she entered the royal dining hall, he’d been cordial but aloof. There’d been nothing about his demeanour to hint he was interested in her personally apart from a momentary glint of speculation in those impenetrable eyes.
All she could think was that for some reason he wanted a change from his usual leggy blondes. She’d seen the photos of him accompanied by stunning socialites at events outside Halarq. Maybe he was bored and decided a brunette was as good a change as any.
Lina didn’t fool herself that his emotions were involved. Except perhaps curiosity. She hadn’t missed his surprise when she’d talked back to him this morning, demanding the freedom not to have a husband chosen for her.
That was it. She was a novelty.
She should be insulted, too proud to go to a man who made it clear all he wanted was short-term sex.
Except even short-term sex with Sayid was far too tempting. She’d tried to be interested in the men she’d met overseas, but none had lived up to the impossible standards Sayid had set with his sex appeal, understanding and shining generosity.
She’d told herself her passion would fade but instead it had grown, becoming something profound and troubling that she couldn’t shake off. It was more than the hero worship she’d experienced at seventeen. More than a first crush. If she wasn’t careful, this could turn into an abiding passion and that would destroy her. Already she couldn’t face the idea of being with any man other than Sayid. Which meant she needed, somehow, to cure herself of her feelings for him.
Surely she could do no better than follow his example. He kept his affairs short and never pined for a woman he’d set aside. He focused on lust and pleasure and wasn’t bothered by troublesome yearnings for more.
Lina knew her yearnings were doomed. There could never be more with Sayid. It was become his temporary lover or nothing.
If she became his lover and eased this terrible yearning, surely the other feelings would fade? It had to be unrequited lust she felt, plus perhaps a shadow of her juvenile hero worship. Surely, after a week sharing his bed, she’d discover he had feet of clay. That he snored terribly or was a selfish lover or...
A trickle of heat slid down her spine. Slowly she turned her head towards the head of the table and found his heated, dark gaze on her. Her train of thought disintegrated and her breath jammed in her lungs as her blood took up a desperate tattoo of want.
She had to do something to end this. Sayid already had too much power over her. Now was the chance to make her own decision about her life.
The choice was simple. Retain her dignity and her pride and work out her time doing community liaison until she was free to leave the palace and train as an interpreter. Or have a quick affair and walk away, hoping a week’s intimacy would burn up this savage yearning for a man who could never be hers long-term.
Setting her jaw, she turned away from that glittering gaze and drew Senhora Neves into conversation.
* * *
She wasn’t coming.
Disappointment lay heavy in his gut.
Sayid strode through his chambers, tearing off his heads
carf and tugging at his fine robes. Despite the climate-controlled comfort of the royal feasting hall, he’d been burning up all night, on tenterhooks for some sign from Lina.
Never had he had to wait for a woman.
Never had a woman said she needed time to consider becoming his lover!
His teeth gritted as he hauled off his clothes and tossed them on a nearby chair. Even the scrape of fine cottons and silks against his flesh was like the rough graze of a blade. He was that aroused. And annoyed.
He hated teetering on the edge of restraint. He made his own decisions, shaping events the way he thought best. He did not do patience well, not when it meant handing power to another.
All evening he’d been aware of Lina, just a few seats down the dining table, wearing a sexy dress that covered her body yet clung to every curve. The purple had highlighted the colour of her eyes, and made the soft gold of her skin glow like fabled treasure.
His fingers had itched with the desperate urge to reach for her, to stake his claim publicly in the face of so many admiring male glances.
But she hadn’t given him the right.
Damn it! How had he gone from ruler of all he surveyed to a man desperate for a woman’s nod of assent? As if he were a beggar awaiting her approval, not her lord and master.
A shudder racked his frame at the thought of the mastery he’d like to impose on her ripe, willing body.
Yet there was more than lust. There was admiration too, despite his frustration.
Sayid had watched her closely tonight, pride rising. She’d proved an able interpreter, despite her doubts since Portuguese wasn’t her speciality. She’d also proved herself, again, adept at mixing with the wide range of people invited to these royal events.
Lina fitted in as if born to it, a real asset to the success of the evening. She was sociable and light-hearted yet ready to listen or keep the conversation flowing when necessary. She was good with people in a way he’d had to work at. Sayid had trained as a soldier and leader. Social chit-chat had taken time.
Rolling his shoulders against the stiffness there, he strode into the bathroom and wrenched on the shower. He didn’t bother with the hot tap, simply let the needles of stinging cold massage his overheated flesh. He tried to blank his mind, or turn it to that new mining project and the problems of ensuring sustainability and long-term profitability.