Sheikh's Virgin Love-Slave

by Brooke, Jessica

  “Still, this has been one of the top best days of my life.”

  “And I’m glad that for both of you it doesn’t have to end,” the older man said, patting her hand. “I’ve taken care of Ravi since he was little, like I said. I haven’t seen him smile—really smile—since his mother died. It was rare enough even in those days. Any time after his father sent him to military school for high school. It was like the carefree child I knew was slowly replaced with someone else, with someone who found it hurt to breathe, let alone smile.”

  A pang struck through Bridget’s heart. She hated that for Ravi, loathed that his father’s expectations had weighed so hard on him, that they seemed to haunt him so even now.

  “That’s horrible.”

  Adil sighed. “Indeed it was, but the old sheikh had his duties too. Ravi’s a brilliant military strategist and a good sheikh. He has just been someone who was so very lost and seemed to be hunting for something. I can’t promise that you’re it, but I can say this smile is new.”

  “Thank you, Adil,” Bridget said, as he stood and turned back to the exit. “I’ll get you that list in the morning. It’ll be good to take those small steps to settle in here.”

  “Indeed, and I’ll speak with Kamala. She’ll take you shopping for clothing that is also your taste.”

  “That’d be lovely as well,” she said, turning back to her milk and taking a long sip in the darkness.

  Her mind swirled with a myriad of thoughts: Is he really feeling what I am, even a little? God, I never felt this way with Kevin, and it’s not just the sex. Of course, he’s great at that, but it’s something else. When he looks at me, it feels like he can see into all of me. It wasn’t just like we were making love—though that’s enough. It’s still so nuts, but it felt almost like souls coming together, like I was meant to be here.

  She sipped her milk again and rubbed at the cold liquid still on her lip. “Maybe I do belong here.”

  “I assure you that you don’t, American giraffe,” a familiar voice called.

  Sabella.

  The woman sauntered to the room in nothing more than a nightie. Clearly, the other woman had both no shame and was bothered by no longer being the sheikh’s favorite distraction. Not that Bridget was a distraction, just that it was clear Sabella was jealous and hoping to reclaim her role in the sheikh’s life. Bridget would have to be an idiot not to see that. Of course, the other woman wasn’t playing it subtle either. All she needed was a sandwich board that said “Free Lunch.”

  “I don’t need this,” Bridget said, standing up and trying to brush past the Arabian girl.

  Sabella planted a hand on her shoulder and held her still. “No, American, hear me out.”

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  “But you do,” she said, her voice a low, disgruntled purr.

  “What? So you can threaten me, tell me that I’ll never be good enough? I know that!” Bridget said before throwing her hands up over her head and taking a step back from the other woman. “Don’t you think I know that? Everything I do is never good enough, but right now? I’m the one Ravi wants. I bet that must eat at you.”

  Sabella’s usually pretty features tightened up, as if she’d sucked on a lemon or a lime. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “I don’t have to,” Bridget replied. “I know that I’m getting to you. If I weren’t, you wouldn’t be stalking me at 3 a.m. and in your best ‘here kitty-kitty’ ware. I get it. You were some hotshot before I got here. You’re leggy and curvy and way hotter than me in a Playboy bunny way. Great for you. Still, no matter what you do, you’re not the one Ravi wants right now so just deal with it.”

  Sabella laughed, low and menacing. “You think you have it all figured out, don’t you?”

  “Maybe.”

  Sabella shook her head and pushed a strand of errant hair out of Bridget’s face. “You’re not the first woman he’s brought home, and you won’t be the last. He’s dated actual princesses and the most gorgeous models, but in the end he always returns to me. And when he’s bored with you?” she chuckled again, as if it was the funniest joke in the world. “Which, let’s be honest, won’t be long, giraffe. Then he’ll come back to me. He always does.”

  Bridget swallowed hard. “Right now, Sabella, he has no interest in you, and that’s your problem. Deal with the fact that you’re not the one.”

  “For now, American.”

  “I have a name. It’s ‘Bridget,’ and you could at least be bothered to call me by it.”

  “Why?” Sabella asked.

  “Because it’s polite. I know your name.”

  “Oh, I know it,” Sabella replied, turning on her heels to leave the kitchen. “I just don’t care to learn it. You’ll be gone before it even matters.”

  That left Bridget gaping, her mouth falling open and closed like a fish on land gasping for its last breaths. She stood up and put her glass back in the sink. It didn’t matter now or at least that’s what she tried to tell herself, but her heart stung as she tried to get back to sleep, even Ravi’s arms around her not comfort enough to block out Sabella’s words.

  What if it was true?

  Chapter Eight

  “So, is Skank-a-rella still giving you problems?” Cindi asked over the Skype connection.

  Bridget sighed. It had been an amazing four weeks. She’d gone on excursions with Ravi to the Dhofar coast and the luxurious locales of Abu Dhabi. He even jetted her to Paris on a whim just last weekend. Yes, he had work to do both for the nation and for his company’s oil interests, but he was always conscientious about making time for her, always sure to make the extra effort to ensure she was attended to.

  She blushed, thinking about the lovemaking they engaged in until the wee hours of the morning. Ravi was more than attentive.

  Sabella, however? Yes, Sabella was still a thorn in her rump.

  “You probably shouldn’t call her that.”

  “If the title fits...” Cindi said, smirking back at her.

  “Yes, Sabella’s awful. No, we probably shouldn’t call her a skank.”

  “Could we call her a slut-whore?”

  “No, pass on that too.”

  “What about a bitch with a capital ‘B?’” Cindi chimed back.

  Bridget broke down giggling. “Okay, that’s a good one. We can call her that.”

  “Oh, when you’re not around, I’ll be calling her a lot more,” Cindi said. “Still, is it going okay?”

  “Ravi’s amazing. Kamala and Adil are kind to me. It’s just that occasionally Sabella sneaks up on me like Jaws coming out of the water. I know she’s a servant in the house, so Ravi’s not going to just send her away, although he basically stationed her in the other wing of the mansion.”

  “Wings. Your lover has wings for his house.”

  “His summer house. He hasn’t shown me the Burj Khalifa tower his father built or the main palace outside of the city. We’re planning to go there in a few weeks after the grand ball.”

  Cindi beamed back at her. “Awesome, chick. Way to get your inner Cinderella on.”

  Bridget quirked her head back at her friend. “Actually, it’s not as glamorous as it sounds. The fittings are kind of overbearing, and I have no idea what the dress is eventually going to look like. Besides, Ravi wants the ensemble to be a surprise. It’s killing me to think about what I’ll look like in front of all these fancy people in Dubai. I mean, I’m worried I’ll eat the food the wrong way or use the wrong knife during dinner. Wait, are there two knives?”

  “I think you’re confusing dinner fork and salad fork. If Titanic taught us anything, just eat from the outside in. Channel your inner Leo.”

  She laughed. “Thanks, but yeah Sabella just won’t give up. It’s annoying.”

  Cindi wasn’t appeased by that answer, but Bridget shouldn’t have known the other woman wouldn’t be. After all, her friend had always seen right through her. “You shouldn’t let her get to you. I can tell from the way you describe her tha
t she’s a gold digger, some annoying hanger-on.”

  “Who looks like she should be on every magazine cover ever!” Bridget patted a few times at her chest. “Let’s face it; I’m nothing special. Not really.”

  “Clearly you are, or Ravi wouldn’t even be with you.”

  “Adil, one of the servants, swears that’s true, but in the back of my mind, I get so nervous that I’m just a distraction. I’m so scared that I’m not anything.”

  “You are, hon. Now, go have a good day! Seriously, always aim to take that bitch Sabella down a peg.”

  Bridget laughed. “I will, and I’ll see if Ravi can invite you out, pay for a ticket or send one of his fleets. You have to see it out here. It’s amazing!”

  “I don’t doubt it, chick. Now, go wow your Sheikh Charming some more.”

  ***

  The tunnel curved up and around her, and Bridget couldn’t help but gasp as she saw the fish swim over her and dart above her head. No, that was too small a word for the variety of marine life flitting around her in and around the tunnel walls. She loved watching the animals pass before her—the flapping wings of the sting rays, the bright, neon orange coloring of the clown fish, and the massive bulk of the nurse sharks skimming by. All of it comprised an incredible underwater ballet that was hers to enjoy at the largest aquarium in the world. She looped her arm through Ravi’s.

  “You didn’t have to close down the entire aquarium just for us.”

  He laughed, and it was a sound as smooth as velvet. “Actually, Adil insisted. He deemed an attraction like this too big a security risk if I were to come here in the midst of crowds. But if this serves to impress you, I’ll take the credit for that as well, my swan.”

  She grinned as they passed under the cool tunnels and waved to the small, South African penguins bobbing at the water’s surface and leaping to and fro on the small rock outcroppings. “Still, this is amazing. Everything so far has been indescribable. Just when I think you can’t come up with anything more exciting, you think of something else.”

  “It’s not quite a dinner date at the top of the Eiffel Tower,” he riposted.

  Her smile widened as she recalled that outing. “You do shut down everything wherever you go. You should just admit it now,” she chirped.

  “Well, I open things up, too,” he said as they came to the end of a labyrinthine hallway and turned toward an Employees Only door.

  “Is that a double entendre?”

  He draped an arm around her shoulder and leaned low to whisper into her and, like always with him, it spread goosebumps running over her skin. “It might be, but only if you’re a good girl.”

  Bridget chuckled and kissed his cheek. “I thought you liked me more when I was bad.”

  He shook his head and parted from her long enough to shake the hand of the trainer who had just come out of the restricted area. Ravi winked at her before exchanging a few quick words in what she assumed was Arabic with the newcomer. The man nodded briskly and opened the door wide, giving them both full access to whatever lie beyond those doors.

  “After you, my swan,” he said, waving his arm towards the room beyond.

  She eyed him, unsure of what he’d arranged. It could be anything from petting a horseshoe crab to swimming with dolphins. No matter what he claimed, her sheikh always considered himself a showstopper and was always looking for a way to outdo himself. Bridget passed into the room and couldn’t keep herself from squealing when she saw the female trainer there holding a small, chittering, brown mass in her arms.

  “Oh my god!” Bridget said, sounding more like a valley girl than she ever had in her life. She found that Ravi brought that more frivolous and—yes, fun—side out of her. “They’re otters!”

  Ravi nodded and watched her carefully, those jade eyes as calculating as always. “They’re baby sea otters to be more precise. They’re about three months old and still too young to be with anyone but their mother in isolation. They won’t be introduced to the group for months yet. Would you like to hold one?”

  “I can?”

  “Yes,” the trainer, whose name tag read Ashira, said as she handed her the baby. “This is Oscar.”

  “Oscar Otter?”

  “We have fun with names. Last time we named them after Disney characters. Next year, they’ll be Marvel superheroes. This year, Oscar and Oliver are ‘O’ names.”

  Bridget took the little fellow in her arms. He blinked sleepily back at her but continued to chuff to himself, his little whiskers moving every time he did so. His black eyes were deep and soulful, and his thick fur was slightly slick and wet against her arms. Someone had clearly been swimming lately.

  “He’s so cute. Aren’t you, Oscar?” she cooed at him.

  The otter surprised her by slipping out of her grasp and climbing quickly to perch on her shoulder, as if she were the tallest hill and he’d now become king of the mountain. The pup kissed her cheek or, well, licked at it a bit and then went back to squeaking at Ashira. Bridget was pretty sure that, unlike whales, otters had no language, though at the same time, Oscar certainly had some agenda on his mind.

  Ashira nodded and pulled the bucket up from the floor. “He’s a con artist, that one. A born beggar. He’s had most of his sardines already, just had lunch, but would you like to feed him?”

  “Of course,” Bridget said, holding out her hand. Ashira showed her how to hold it flat, and she understood why. It was the same with horses. If you didn’t keep your palm flat, then eager teeth might accidentally bite you. The slimy fish was a small sacrifice to make in order to watch Oscar slip down onto her arm and shove the fish quickly inside his cheeks so that they puffed out as he finished chewing his meal. “Okay, that’s the cutest thing he’s done so far. In fact, I somehow have a feeling that Oscar has the market cornered on cute.”

  “Oliver has tricks of his own, too,” Ashira replied, nodding to the enclosure. “Would you like to see him?”

  She giggled as Oscar snuffled at her hair. “I think I have enough to keep me busy here without dealing with Oscar’s even more ambitious twin. Ravi, do you want to hold either of them?”

  Her sheikh shook his head and straightened the lapels of his jacket. “Not in Tom Ford I don’t. Besides, I have something in my pocket, and I don’t want the little guy to steal it from me.”

  Curious, Bridget handed the otter back to Ashira, although she promised herself that she’d be grabbing that warm little bundle of sunshine back soon. “Okay,” she said, bringing her hands to rest on her hips and thrusting out her chin. “You have me intrigued—the private tour, the up-close and personal date with the cutest guy in the room—”

  “I resent that.”

  “Admit it,” she said point to where Oscar was chewing at his front paw with his teeth. “Even you can’t out-cute him.”

  “I dunno, does he do the things with his tongue I do?”

  “Uh, eww. But also good point. There are things that human guys do that are hotter but Oscar’s cornered cute. He needs his own inspirational desk calendar, is all I’m saying. Still, you’re giving me a full court press, even more than usual. What are you planning, Sheikh Shamon?” She gasped when he pulled a large velvet box, easily the size of his palm, from his pockets. She knew it couldn’t be a ring, both because it was far too early in their relationship and the sheer size of the box, but it was clearly jewelry.

  She teared up a little, wishing she could hold it back, but no one in her terrible rolodex of dating history had gotten her anything truly nice. The only jewelry Kevin begrudgingly got her came from K-Mart and cost less than his gaming system. Bridget wasn’t an expert, but she was pretty sure whatever Ravi got her would be worth more than a video game.

  “I… you didn’t have to.”

  He opened the box and she gasped at the two interwoven strands of pearls, one a shining white and the other a smooth grey. The pearl at the center was easily the size of a gumball and a silver color that was the perfect shade between the two main strands.
She’d never seen anything like it.

  Ravi said nothing—unusual for him—as he walked behind her, pulled up her hair, and clasped the necklace around her throat. “You look perfect, princess. I knew this would show off the curves of your swan-like neck perfectly.”

  She blushed back at him and brought her fingers to the new decoration at her throat. “I don’t… you can’t be serious. This has to cost so much money. I can’t accept this.”

  “You can, but if you’re worried, then just consider it a loan. There’s a gala and dance to celebrate a new art exhibit opening at the Burj Khalifa this Friday, and I wanted to present you to all of Dubai as my date.”

  Bridget turned around and looked up at him with wide, scared eyes. Her heart pounded in her chest and her palms grew slick with sweat. “You what?”

  “We’ve been together for well over a month.”

  “That’s nothing…”

  He reached up and cupped her cheek. She felt that heat flare in her belly and that electric current just simmering underneath her skin as it always did whenever he was near to her. “I’ve never dated anyone for six weeks, ever. I want to show my country and my people what you mean to me.”

  And what is that, exactly? She wondered.

  She wasn’t sure what the answer was herself. First she was his captive, and then she was his lover for a fun-filled fling. Currently, she could feel the passion and trust blossoming between them. Still, she thought of Sabella, and of those cold words she heard whispered to her almost daily. It could all end tomorrow. Making it public—putting it on the world’s stage—would make her humiliation that much more exquisite when things ended. They had to end eventually, if only because she was never that lucky.

  Just look at her fractured home life for proof, or at her relationship with Kevin for that matter.

  “Maybe we can talk about this when we’re back at the palace,” she said, looking over her shoulder to catch Ashira heading out a back door to another part of the complex. At least that woman knew when to avoid awkward situations. “This is just so much at once.”

  “You’re my princess, and I think you should be proud of that,” Ravi said, even as a small line formed between his brows.