The Sheikh's Tempted Prisoner

by Holly Rayner

  “I spent a great deal of time here while I was growing up,” he said as they walked. “My sisters and I ran over every inch of this place. I suppose my father brought us here to cheer my uncle up after what happened.”

  “It seems like you two are close,” Vanessa said, walking beside him.

  “In some ways, he was more a father figure to me than the Sheikh,” Ramin admitted. “My father is a great man who cares for me deeply. But he is, understandably, quite busy with matters of state. My uncle, with his wealth of free time, was far more willing to devote a bit of that time to me and my sisters when we were growing up. Where my time with my father was most often dedicated to teaching me the functions of various matters of state, it was Ansar I came to with my troubles and from whom I received the advice of which I still abide by to this day.”

  They crossed into an inner courtyard overflowing with flowers. Jasmine danced in the night breeze and hyacinth climbed trellises against the walls, which rose tower-like around them to the highest floors, leaving no square inch without greenery except that which contained the blue ink frame of the star-speckled sky.

  “I broke my wrist falling from that trellis once,” Ramin said with a chuckle. “I don’t even remember why I decided to climb it. I was almost to the third floor before it came away from the wall and I lost my grip. I’m lucky I wasn’t hurt worse, honestly.”

  “You seem like the type to get into a lot of mischief like that,” Vanessa teased.

  “I was,” Ramin confirmed, reaching up to pluck a jasmine blossom and offer it to her with a theatrical sweep of his arm. “And you? Were you a well-behaved child?”

  “Well, that depends on who you ask,” Vanessa said with a small laugh as she took the flower. “My teachers all thought I was a dream and the other children thought I was weird and dull. But my parents were quite lost for how to deal with me. My mother was a dentist and my father was an accountant. The kind of people who think mustard is spicy and were worried painting the living room walls anything but white would be ‘too avant-garde.’

  “Then there was me, barreling through their orderly world, tracking in mud from digging for fossils and scaring them when I went on adventures into the woods alone. By any measure, I was a studious if anti-social child, more inclined to spend my Friday nights in my room reading about ancient civilizations than gallivanting with boys. But they never quite understood. You know, to this day, I actually think they’re disappointed in me. I’m not sure what it was they wanted from me, but I guess traveling around the world digging up tombs wasn’t part of it.”

  “What a pity for them,” Ramin said as he took the flower she was twirling between her fingers to set it in her hair. “They missed out on something truly special.”

  Vanessa blushed, looking away, and Ramin withdrew.

  “I apologize,” he said. “I didn’t mean to flirt again.”

  “No, it’s fine,” she said quickly, embarrassed, touching the flower in her hair. “I like it.”

  “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about me?” he asked, offering her his arm.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Vanessa said loftily, taking his arm as he led her out of the courtyard and into a moonlit corridor, its lattice walls letting in the night breeze and the glow of the stars.

  “I’ve been foolish.” He chuckled. “A brilliant woman like yourself probably has some devoted scholar back home, waiting for her.”

  “Maybe I do,” Vanessa said with a smile.

  “Well, he must not be an archeologist, or he would be here with you,” Ramin said thoughtfully. “Is he a poet? Does he write you sweet sonnets? I could write better. The moon which glows through Saturn’s jealous eye, compared to you, is a dull and borrowed shine!”

  Vanessa giggled, shaking her head.

  “While I do have a soft spot for poetry,” Vanessa admitted. “I’ve never cared for poets.”

  “Of course not,” Ramin said at once. “The man who’s stolen your heart must be one powerful enough to keep it from all your suitors. A warrior then! Show me his strength and I will show you I can best him.”

  He mimed a series of fencing moves with an accuracy that made Vanessa sure he wasn’t wrong. She laughed again.

  “No,” she told him. “I haven’t yet met a warrior who could also keep up with the conversation.”

  “So, it’s a conversationalist you love,” Ramin said with an air of understanding. “A glamorous socialite who can whisk you away to fine parties full of fascinating people. But, tell me his name and I will gather all the brightest minds and brilliant souls of Europe to your parlor with a sweep of my arm.”

  Vanessa, pink in the cheeks and still laughing at his theatrics, shook her head again.

  “No,” she said, amused. “No socialites. Too many parties are exhausting. I’d rather be studying. And no warriors or poets, either.”

  “Then who is the man who’s stolen your heart?” Ramin begged.

  “Well,” Vanessa considered. “He’s someone who matches me not just in intelligence, but in enthusiasm. He doesn’t lose interest when I ramble about the ancient world and he can answer me readily with stories of his own. He’s brave, unafraid to ride out in search of answers or adventure. But he’s responsible as well. He cares about his family. He’s considerate, thoughtful…and he has the most beautiful dark brown eyes.”

  They’d reached the end of the corridor and Ramin paused, his back against the broad, carved double doors.

  “He isn’t a prince by any chance, is he?” Ramin asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “As a matter of fact, he is,” Vanessa admitted with a coy smile.

  “Ah, then I can’t hope to compete,” Ramin said with a sigh. “Tell me his name and I’ll admit my defeat to him. He should know how close I came to stealing you away.”

  “You already know his name,” Vanessa teased.

  “It isn’t Peterson, is it?” Ramin asked with a frown, and Vanessa laughed loudly, shaking her head.

  “Well then, the only other prince I know is…” Ramin frowned dramatically, playing it up as he considered his options. Suddenly, his eyes shot wide in mock horror. “It can’t be Uncle Ansar! That scoundrel! I left him alone with you for half a moment and he’s stolen your heart! I should have known. He’s always been far too charming for his own good.”

  Vanessa was laughing too hard to answer him.

  “This blow to my honor is too much,” he said, shaking his head. “I will have to duel him to the death. I shall inform him immediately.”

  He turned as though to march away decisively and Vanessa, still giggling, reached out to stop him.

  “No, no, it isn’t him.” She laughed, holding his arm.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Ramin assured her. “I’ll make sure to lose the duel. I would never steal your one true love so cruelly.”

  “It’s you!” Vanessa said through her laughter and put her arms around his neck to pull him down towards her. “It’s you.”

  Chapter Ten

  The kiss was at once a surprise and somehow inevitable, like she’d been waiting for it since the moment they’d met. His warm mouth moved against hers and her heart jumped in her chest, fluttering wildly as a bird in a cage with excitement.

  His arms were strong and firm as they held her close, a frame she hung on as her knees felt weak. It could have lasted seconds or centuries, the slow slide of his hand into her hair all she ever cared to feel again. The heat of his skin, the scent of him so close, left her dizzy. Gradually, they parted for breath and, realizing what they were doing, stepped away from each other.

  “It’s getting late,” Vanessa said, looking away, suddenly shy. “We should probably get some rest.”

  “Yes,” Ramin agreed, avoiding her gaze. “I’ll find someone to show us to our rooms.”

  He hurried away and she followed slowly after, leaving a gap between them, both of them a little overwhelmed by what had just happened and unsure how to treat each other now that it had hap
pened. Vanessa’s heart and lips burned to kiss him again, but at the same time she knew it would be a mistake, and he seemed to feel the same, at least judging by the way he was avoiding even looking at her now.

  A moment later, a maid was leading them upstairs to the guest rooms.

  “Here we are,” the woman said, stopping before a pair of large doors. “The bed has been made for you and everything has been aired out.”

  She opened the doors to the finely appointed room and its singular, king-sized bed. Vanessa covered her face.

  “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding,” Ramin said to the maid with a small chuckle. “We aren’t together.”

  “Oh!” the maid blushed. “My apologies, Your Highness. I’ll have a second room prepared at once.”

  She hurried off, leaving them alone in the hallway.

  “You take this room,” Ramin said graciously. “I’ll take the next one.”

  “Are you sure?” Vanessa asked. “I don’t mind waiting.”

  “I insist,” he said, urging her towards it with a hand on her shoulder. “You had a long day. You need the rest.”

  “Thank you,” Vanessa said as she stepped towards the doors. “Really. For everything.”

  “It was my pleasure,” he replied, his touch sliding from her shoulder down to her hand. “Truly.”

  He let go reluctantly and, fighting the urge to ask him to share the room with her, Vanessa murmured goodnight and closed the doors between them.

  She sank against them then with a sigh. She really shouldn’t be letting herself get swept away by this. Even if he wasn’t a womanizer like the magazines said, he was still a prince, miles out of her league, and not what she’d come here for.

  She was here for the tomb of Amanirenas and the treasures it held. The thought, which had made her uncomfortable to begin with, now felt like a stone in her gut dragging her down. She didn’t want to do it. But the thought of the debt waiting for her when she finished her degree was terrifying. She shook it off, feeling foolish. That hardly mattered now. Ramin and Ansar’s promises to fix the situation were appreciated, but they had no chance against Peterson’s head start.

  Her bags had been brought up to the room, fetched from Professor Van Rees’s apartment that morning when Ramin had assumed they would stay there during their expedition. She changed into a nightgown and fell into the huge, comfortable bed.

  The night breeze blew, cool and jasmine scented, through the tall, open windows, the diaphanous white silk curtains catching the moonlight in pearly shadow. She turned restlessly between the Egyptian cotton sheets, thinking about Ramin and the kiss. He was making no attempt to hide the fact that he was interested in her, and she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t interested any longer. But there were just too many complications.

  Part of her knew she was just making excuses. She was good at them; she’d spent the last four years dating men she knew she wasn’t interested in so that it would be easy to let go when they decided they weren’t interested in her.

  She was afraid of what would happen if she ever let herself really fall for someone. She wasn’t sure she could handle it. She knew, with almost total certainty, that if love ever came between her and her work, she would choose her work. But she didn’t want to know what it would feel like to make that decision, so she’d avoided it as much as she could. And here it was now, sneaking up on her in the guise of a man almost too perfect to be real. It was, to be honest, terrifying.

  After an hour or more of tossing and turning, her thoughts full of the Sheikh and her own stubborn fears, she gave up on sleep and slipped out of bed, lighting a candle and taking from her bag the case containing the ancient map of Nubia. She set it up on the vanity in the corner of the room and spread her papers across the delicate surface.

  If she wasn’t going to sleep, she could at least work. She could continue her translation of the map. She’d been meaning to plot out the best possible dig sites—though that seemed a bit pointless now that Peterson was already camped out on her primary location. She doubted they’d take well to her digging twenty feet away from them.

  For an hour, she worked steadily, eyes itching with tiredness in the flickering candle light, transcribing names and comparing them to the Greek. One good thing would come of this, at least: Peterson couldn’t steal her work on the Meroitic language. That would be hers alone, and thanks to this map she was very close to a full translation. The kind she could apply to all the hundreds of un-translated Meroitic steles and engravings that had been discovered and thus far left a mystery. Like those that might be in the tomb Peterson uncovered.

  She sighed at the thought, sending one of her papers fluttering off the desk. She bent tiredly to pick it up, rubbing at her eyes. It was a listing of the locations of the Sahara’s edges by year. The sand spread a little bit more every year. Desert encroachment was a real danger to neighboring biomes, not to mention human habitations. It was also a pain in the ass for archeologists trying to guess the locations of sites in the Sahara based on landmarks long swallowed by the sand and borders that no longer existed.

  She was always forgetting to adjust her calculations…

  Vanessa stopped cold as sudden realization washed over her. When she’d translated the name on the map, she’d been so excited and moved so quickly. Had she remembered to adjust for the Sahara’s moving edges?

  She began scribbling calculations frantically, working out the difference the drift had caused. Her heart hammered as she looked down at the new location of the tomb site, more than a mile east of where she’d been looking before.

  She got to her feet, slamming her bedroom door open to run across the hall to where the maid had prepared a room for Ramin, hammering on his door.

  He opened it, shirtless and dazed, and stared at her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I found it!” she said, elated. “I got the calculations wrong before! I forgot to account for desert growth! Peterson is digging in the wrong place!”

  It took Ramin, half asleep, a moment to process what that meant. Then, he suddenly laughed, triumphant and delighted, and lifted her by the waist, spinning her around before he pulled her into an elated kiss.

  “We still have a chance!” he said as they broke apart. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning!”

  Will Vanessa and Ramin find what they seek, or something neither of them was looking for?

  The Sheikh’s Scheming Sweetheart is available on Amazon now

  CLICK HERE TO GET IT

  Also by Holly Rayner

  Sheikhs and Princes

  Bought By The Sheikh

  Stealing From The Sheikh

  The Sheikh’s Captive Woman

  Marrying The Sheikh

  The Sheikh’s Make-Believe Fiancée

  The Sheikh’s Accidental Bride

  The Sheikh’s Irresistible Proposal

  The Sheikh’s Secret Princess

  The Sheikh’s Illicit Affair

  The Sheikh’s Purchased Bride

  The Sheikh’s Tempted Protectress

  The Sheikh’s Captive Love

  The Sheikh’s Green Card Bride

  Bought For One Night: The Sheikh’s Offer

  Wifed By The Sheikh

  The Sheikh’s Online Bride

  Single Mom And The Sheikh

  The Sheikh And The Cowgirl

  The Sheikh’s Stolen Bride-To-Be

  The Sheikh’s Scandal

  Secret: The Maid and the Sheikh

  The Sheikh’s Uninvited Lover

  Secret Baby Romance

  The Tycoon’s Triplet Baby Surprise

  The Sheikh’s Quadruplet Baby Surprise

  The Sheikh’s Triplet Baby Surprise

  The Sheikh’s Quintuplet Baby Surprise

  The Sheikh’s Secret Love Child

  The Prince’s Scandalous Baby

  Hassan: The Bad Boy Sheikh’s Baby

  The Sheikh’s Twin Baby Surprise

  The Sheikh’s American B
aby

  Baby Maker

  The Prince’s Triplet Baby Surprise

  Merry Christmas Romance

  The Billionaire’s First Christmas

  The Sheikh’s First Christmas

  The Billionaire’s Christmas Bundle of Joy

  The Billionaire’s Lessons in Christmas

  European Billionaire Romance

  An Heir For Alexandros: The Greek Billionaire’s Baby

  A Baby For Kristos

  The Greek Billionaire’s Marriage Matchmaker

  Poker Face