Sheik

by Mason, Connie

  “Ah, sweet vixen, making love to you is my pleasure.”

  He undressed her slowly, carefully manipulating the buttons on the front of her dress and pulling it down her arms. He kissed her bare shoulders and then her lips, caressing the inside of her mouth with his tongue. He delved deeper and she opened to him, her tongue dancing with his in sweet surrender.

  Her dress fell to the floor with the downward sweep of his hands and he lifted her out of the puddle of cloth. She wore no corset. A single tie held her chemise together and when he released it her breasts spilled free. He stared at the full mounds before bending his head and taking a nipple into his mouth.

  “I have never tasted anything sweeter,” he groaned against the budding crest as he licked and sucked first one then the other into taut little nubs. “Sunlight and warm rain. Soft Moroccan nights and moonlight. Your golden skin reminds me of everything I love.”

  Zara moaned, inflamed by his words. He had but to touch her and she turned to fire.

  Her chemise and petticoats were dispatched with dexterity. Her stockings and shoes followed. When she stood before him naked and glowing, she began pulling at his shirt. Jamal laughed at her eagerness, helping her to remove his clothing. When they were both naked, he lifted her into his arms and took her with him onto the soft feather mattress. He kissed her until she clung to him as though to life itself. After several soul-wrenching kisses he dragged his mouth from hers long enough to look at her.

  Her eyes were languid, her expression bemused as his gaze slid from her face, past her flushed breasts to her slightly rounded stomach. He placed a kiss where his child grew, his expression one of rapt adoration.

  Zara started to speak but lost the ability when he stroked his hand between her legs. She shivered, raising her hands to his back and caressing his smooth, golden flesh. She touched her lips to his chest.

  “You’re magnificent,” she murmured against his heated skin. “There will never be another man like you.”

  Jamal’s dark brows rose. “Another man? There had better not be.”

  He kissed her again, then again, the sweet taste and scent of her driving him wild. He wanted to take it easy with her, but urgency drove him. To touch Zara was to want her.

  He explored her thoroughly, his hands, mouth and tongue savoring every inch of her golden skin. He licked and suckled her breasts, kissed the fragile curve of her stomach, trailed a wet path to her slick sheath, drawing a quivering cry from her when his tongue delved inside. He spread her legs wider and buried his head between them, savoring the liquid heat of her response. Her fingers dug into his arms as she arched sharply upward, soaring like a bird to a place where splendor awaited.

  “Allah help me! I’m dying!”

  “Nay, sweet vixen. Death isn’t this sweet. Savor the moment. Come, Zara, come now.”

  The feel of his lips, the thrust of his tongue, the solid weight of his hands guiding her hips unleashed a raw passion she couldn’t control as she reached for pleasure and found pure rapture.

  Rising up slowly, Jamal lowered his weight upon her and slid inside her. He groaned as the walls of her sheath tightened around him, the pleasure so intense, his control nearly deserted him. Zara shifted her hips to take him deeper. He gave her everything he had, his very soul, as he moved against her, his hips thrusting against hers, his flanks quivering.

  Clutching him tightly, Zara rode the crest with him. The earth moved, the heavens shook, and Zara knew nothing would ever equal what she and Jamal had just shared.

  “Are you all right?” Jamal asked when his breathing returned to normal. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “How could anything so wonderful hurt me?”

  “Nevertheless, I’d feel better if you’d take a long nap.”

  “I’ll rest easier if you lie here beside me. I’m not ready for you to leave me yet.”

  “There’s no place I’d rather be,” Jamal said as he turned Zara on her side and fit her into the curve of his body.

  Sleep came instantly. When Jamal awoke later it was full dark and the fire in the grate had burned down. He rose quietly, rekindled the fire and climbed back beneath the covers with Zara. A muffled groan slid past his lips when she pressed her buttocks against the heat of his loins. He was hard again. His sex was full and painfully heavy. Reluctant to disturb Zara’s sleep, he began to ease out of bed.

  “Nay, don’t leave.”

  “I thought you were sleeping.”

  “As you can see, I’m not.”

  “I have to leave, sweet vixen.” He took her hand and placed it on his erection. “See what you do to me? If I remain I can’t guarantee that the randy lad between my legs will behave.”

  “I don’t want him to behave.” She ground her buttocks into his groin. “Please, Jamal.”

  Surrendering to Zara’s plea, Jamal shifted her legs, positioned himself behind her, and eased into her slick sheath. This time he worked her slow and easy, drawing out her passion along with his. When he finally granted her release, she couldn’t stop sobbing.

  Alarmed, Jamal asked, “What is it, love? Why are you crying?”

  She didn’t dare tell him the truth, that she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him. She thanked Allah she would have his child to love. “I’m crying because I’m happy,” she lied.

  He didn’t believe her. “You’re still worried about my mother, aren’t you?”

  Zara shrugged. “I did so want her to like me.”

  “She will. Give her time. She’ll come around once she realizes how much I love you. Shall we dress and go down to dinner?”

  “Go without me,” Zara urged. “Send something up to me on a tray. I… can’t stand another confrontation.”

  He stared at her in consternation. “Perhaps that would be best. Things will look better tomorrow.”

  Zara gave him a sad smile. Things would never look better.

  Not tomorrow, not ever.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Zara’s resolve to leave strengthened as the days passed. Lady Eloise found countless opportunities to throw Jamal and Lady Caroline together. The haughty blonde was invited to dinner nearly every night. One night her carriage failed to arrive to take her home and Jamal was compelled to act as escort. Another night Zara watched jealously as Caroline engaged Jamal in intimate conversation, dominating his attention for the entire evening. They looked so right together that Zara felt like an outsider.

  Zara was feeling under the weather one afternoon when Caroline showed up to go riding with Lady Eloise. Using fatigue as an excuse, Lady Eloise graciously bowed out, volunteering Jamal in her stead. Zara thought Jamal didn’t protest vigorously enough as he acquiesced to his mother’s wishes. Zara spoke her mind while he was changing into his riding clothes.

  “I can’t be rude, love,” he answered. “But I do intend to have a talk with Mother. Her efforts to throw Caroline and me together are becoming tedious. I promise it won’t happen again. You can join us if you wish.”

  The last thing Zara wanted to do was squeeze her burgeoning figure into a riding habit. Her wide skirts still disguised her pregnancy, but it wouldn’t be long before it became apparent that she was increasing. “I’m not up to riding today.”

  Jamal became immediately concerned. “Are you unwell?”

  “I’m pregnant,” Zara said crossly, as if that explained everything.

  He sent her a tender smile. “I’m quite aware of that. During the night, when you’re cuddled up against me, I can feel the babe move. I can’t explain just how that makes me feel except to say that it’s wonderfully satisfying.”

  Zara refused to be placated. “You’d better go. It isn’t polite to keep Lady Caroline waiting.”

  “I don’t give a bloody damn about Caroline. This farce has gone far enough. I haven’t wanted to upset Mother, but this has got to stop.”

  Once again Zara felt as if she was coming between Lady Lanford and her son, and it wasn’t a good feeling.

  Seve
ral days passed before Zara found the opportunity to slip away. The day was bright, sunny and cold, perfect for hawking. Haroun and Jamal decided they would not find a better day to try out the pair of peregrine falcons Jamal’s gamekeeper had just purchased. They left early that morning.

  Lady Eloise, declaring the day too fine to waste, went calling. She did not ask Zara to accompany her. Not that Zara minded. She had studiously kept out of Lady Eloise’s way, not wishing to cause Jamal’s mother further distress by forcing herself upon the woman.

  Zara knew she’d not find a better time to journey to London. She packed only her robes and boots, which she intended to wear during the voyage, stuffing them in a pillowcase for easy carrying. Unfortunately, Zinab entered her chamber with a breakfast tray while she was packing.

  “Are you going somewhere, Zara?”

  Zara blanched when she saw Zinab standing in the doorway. There was no help for it now. Zinab would see through her lie, so she was forced to tell the truth. “I’m leaving.”

  Zinab carefully set down the tray. “For good?”

  “For good,” Zara declared firmly. “I can’t bear seeing Lady Eloise distressed on my account. Jamal will be better off without me. Lady Caroline is the kind of wife he needs.”

  “You’re not thinking clearly,” Zinab chided. “Jamal loves you. You’re carrying his child. Do you actually think he’ll let you leave him?”

  “I don’t know,” Zara said in a voice so low Zinab had to strain to hear her. “’Tis for the best. Jamal will understand that and let me go.”

  “You’re overwrought, Zara. Why don’t you lie down? I’ll ask Dr. ben Israel to look in on you.”

  Zara grasped her arm. “Nay, you’re not to tell a soul! Promise me, Zinab. You’re the only one I can trust.”

  “Don’t ask that of me. You don’t even know the way to London.”

  “The coachman will take us,” a third voice interjected.

  Both Zara and Zinab stared at the intruder, surprised to find Saha standing behind them. They’d been so intent upon their argument that they had failed to hear Saha enter the chamber.

  “Us?” Zara repeated. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve decided to leave this cursed country,” Saha said. “I hate England. Jamal said I could leave if I was unhappy, and I am. I’m going to return to Morocco aboard the Plunderer. Captain Brahim promised me a place in his harem, and I’m going to accept. He’s handsome and kind and can afford to keep his women in luxurious accommodations.” She sent Zara a sly smile. “It took little persuasion to convince the coachman to take me to London.

  “It never occurred to me that you’d want to leave,” Saha continued. “Can’t say that I blame you. I’ve spoken at length with Lady Lanford, you know. She’ll never accept you as Jamal’s wife. In time Jamal will come to hate you.” This last vicious barb was rendered with a malicious smile.

  “Don’t listen to her, Zara,” Zinab urged.

  “What about Haroun?” Zara asked Saha.

  Saha shrugged. “What about him? This is England and I can do as I please. Besides,” she added, sending a venomous glance at Zinab, “Haroun is too taken with Zinab these days to pay attention to me.”

  Zinab blushed, aware of Haroun’s growing fondness for her. “You do not care for Haroun. He is a good man and deserves better than you.”

  “I never did want him,” Saha claimed. “You’re welcome to him.” She turned to Zara. “Are you coming with me?”

  “Nay, Zara, don’t do it,” Zinab pleaded.

  “Aye, I’m ready,” Zara said, ignoring Zinab as she clutched the pillowcase to her chest.

  “Lord Jamal will be angry when he catches up with you,” Zinab warned.

  The ladies were blissfully unaware that Jamal stood in the open doorway, his anger growing as he listened to their conversation.

  “I’m very angry.” Jamal’s harsh words sent fear racing through Zara. “Leave us,” he ordered, his gaze never wavering from Zara’s pale face. The cold authority in his voice set the women into motion as they headed for the door.

  “Saha, before you leave, I want you to know that I spoke with the coachman. Both Haroun and I agree that you should leave. Haroun awaits you by the coach. He will accompany you to London and explain to Captain Brahim. You won’t be cast adrift penniless, though I know Brahim is smitten with you and will see to your welfare.”

  “Lord Jamal—”

  “Say nothing, Saha, just leave. I wish to speak to my wife in private.” Saha scurried away to join Haroun. She couldn’t wait to leave this dreary place behind.

  Zara held her ground beneath Jamal’s withering gaze. “I thought you went hawking.”

  “My horse threw a shoe, forcing us to return. I saw the coach sitting outside the front door and knew something was amiss. Mother took the lighter carriage this morning. A word with the coachman confirmed my suspicions. I knew Saha wished to leave and I was going to arrange it eventually. I had no idea you intended to leave with her until I overheard your conversation.”

  “How long have you been listening?”

  “Long enough. Did you think I’d allow you to leave with my child growing inside you?”

  A muscle twitched at the corner of his mouth, the only sign of his anger, except for his outward calmness. It was unlike Jamal to be so calm.

  “I hoped you’d realize that it was for your own good. I never wanted to come between you and your mother. In time you’d come to hate me.”

  “Let me be the judge of what’s good for me. I thought you knew better than to believe Saha’s vicious lies.”

  “You heard?”

  He nodded. “You should trust me, Zara. Let me handle Mother. ’Tis time to tell her about the baby.”

  “You truly don’t wish to be married to Lady Caroline?”

  Jamal spit out a curse. “Caroline is a blue-blooded snob. She perceives me as a romantic figure. She’s intrigued by my mixed heritage and my wealth. Mother told her it was a simple matter to divorce in Islamic law, and Caroline mistakenly believed I’d divorce you and marry her. She is too dimwitted to realize I love you too much to let you go.”

  “Your mother will never accept me.”

  “Mother didn’t marry you, I did. As soon as you and our child can travel, we’ll visit all my estates and pick out one where you’ll be happy. Lanford Manor has always been my favorite, but I want you to choose our home. Mother loves Lanford Manor; I suspect she’ll prefer to remain here.”

  “I don’t ever want you to be sorry you married me.”

  “Are you sorry you married me?”

  “Never!”

  “That’s how I feel. Forget about leaving. You must have been truly distraught to think I’d let you go.” He took her into his arms and nuzzled her cheek. It was impossible to remain angry with her despite her flawed thinking. How could she believe he’d be better off without her? “Promise you won’t do anything foolish like that again?”

  Displaying her old spunk, Zara squared her shoulders and stared at him. “I won’t promise you anything, Sheik Jamal, except to love you with my whole heart.”

  “Will you agree to a Christian wedding, complete with guests and reception? I don’t want the legality of our marriage to be questioned. Or our child’s right to inherit.”

  Zara frowned. She knew nothing of Christianity. “Will it make you happy? Must I forsake Allah?”

  “We are married no matter what religion we hold to. Allah knows we are wed, but we must show the Christian world that we are man and wife. I will not insist upon it if you are against it.”

  “You are right, Jamal. We must wed again to prove to the world that we are united before both Allah and the Christian God.”

  “Shall we go downstairs and tell Mother about the baby?”

  She gave him a seductive smile. “Not now. I need to be convinced of your need for me. Make love to me, Jamal.”

  Jamal gave her a tender smile. “It will be my pleasure.”

&n
bsp; That night Lady Eloise invited a guest to Lanford Manor. Both Zara and Jamal were surprised to see a middle-aged man conversing with Lady Eloise in the elegant drawing room when they gathered downstairs for dinner. His distinguished gray hair and neat mustache gave him a look of quiet assurance.

  Lady Eloise looked up as Zara and Jamal entered the room. “Ah, Jamal, you’re here. Come and meet Lord Robert Cummins, the Earl of Durbin. Robert, this is my son, Jamal, Lord Lanford.”

  Jamal offered his hand, which was warmly clasped by the earl. “Durbin, pleased to meet you,” Jamal said. “Do you live in the area? I don’t recall meeting you before.”

  “I bought the Hinkley estate when I moved from Ireland a few months ago. That makes me your neighbor. I met your lovely mother at a reception given in my honor by Lord and Lady Freemont.” He gave Eloise a tender smile, and Jamal wondered what was going on.

  “And this must be your beautiful wife,” Durbin continued. He bowed gallantly over Zara’s hand.

  “This is Lady Zara,” Eloise said somewhat coolly. “Jamal married her in Morocco.”

  “Mother,” Jamal said, clenching his teeth in frustration, “I wish a word with you in private. Would you excuse us, Durbin?”

  “Of course. I’ll entertain your lady while you speak with your mother.”

  “The library, Mother,” Jamal said, ushering his mother from the room.

  Eloise searched Jamal’s face as he shut the library door and turned to face her. “What’s so important that it can’t wait?”

  “First, I want you to stop treating Zara like a pariah. She’s my wife and will remain my wife. Second, stop creating situations that force me to endure Lady Caroline’s company. Her visits must stop. It’s upsetting Zara, and I won’t have her disturbed at a time like this. You’re making me very sorry I returned to England.”