Bundle of Brides

by Kay Thorpe

  ‘Because he is a Spanish horse,’ Kahlil revealed, one corner of his mouth tugging up in the suspicion of a grin. ‘My younger brother is a doctor. He lives in Spain. This horse was his wedding gift to me, and the name Terco is his idea of a joke. But you have chosen to ride my horse, Helix,’ he reminded her. ‘Changed your mind?’

  ‘Certainly not.’

  ‘Leg up?’

  ‘Please,’ Lucy said. She wasn’t about to back down now. However terrifying the black stallion appeared as he struck sparks off the cobbles with his highly polished hooves, Kahlil needed to know she was equal to any challenge he might care to set.

  The controlled pace they adopted to cross the immaculately clean stableyard gave no hint of the wild gallop to come. Kahlil increased speed slowly at first, as if he wanted to check out Lucy’s riding ability, but once they reached the irresistible challenge of clear, flat scrubland he took off.

  Determined not to be bettered, Lucy took his stallion to the limit. It was both the most terrifying and most exhilarating ride of her life. Leaning low over the horse’s neck, she whispered encouragement into the horse’s keenly pricked ears, and Helix didn’t disappoint her. Lucy thrilled to the sound of his hooves thundering across the ground, and with his long nose stretched forward and his stride lengthening every moment he rewarded her encouragement with an easy win.

  ‘You can certainly ride,’ Kahlil admitted, when they drew level on a stretch of road and slowed the pace.

  ‘Who couldn’t ride with a horse like Helix beneath them?’

  ‘Most people,’ Kahlil told her dryly. ‘But then most people wouldn’t be brave enough to ride a horse like Helix in the first place.’

  Praise? Lucy wondered, as Kahlil nudged Terco into a canter and took the lead.

  She leaned back in the saddle as Kahlil led the way down a steep embankment, and then moved her weight forward to make it easier for the horse as he started up a steep, rocky hill. Stones skittered beneath the horses’ hooves as they climbed up the narrow winding path, and then at last, when the path widened into a wide sandy arena, she saw the reason for their climb to the summit.

  Far below them, spread out for miles across the desert, there were rows of neatly tethered camels and lines of trucks, and hordes of people milling about a vast, tented city.

  ‘Our wedding guests,’ Kahlil said, turning to look at her. ‘Our people, Lucy.’

  As the breeze lifted her hair into a curtain between them, Lucy was glad of the moment’s privacy. She was deeply moved, and intensely aware at the same time of the weight of responsibility she was about to take on. She was glad to share it with Kahlil, and saw the emotion in his gaze as he sat without speaking on Terco, lost in his own thoughts. It was certainly an awe-inspiring sight, and a huge challenge, but it was one she knew Kahlil embraced with humility and determination—just as she did.

  They sat together quietly for quite a while, the two great horses at peace beneath them, as if the animals could sense the silent communion between their two riders more keenly than could Kahlil and Lucy.

  It was as if they were all at one with the desert, Lucy reflected, breathing deeply on the warm, spicy air. The golden honeyed light, the chink of the horses’ bridles as they lazily tossed their heads, the soft wind tugging at her hair…She gazed across at Kahlil, and at the same moment he turned too. And as they looked at each other Lucy exhaled slowly, feeling her whole body and spirit relax. She knew this stranger a little better now. It was as if something had passed between them. Not the fire of passion, the fire so fierce it had burned them both. This was something far deeper, and more lasting. She began to smile.

  ‘We should be getting back,’ Kahlil said, shortening the reins and turning Terco’s head. ‘Don’t forget we are to be married today. We mustn’t be late for our own wedding.’

  ‘No,’ Lucy agreed, taking one final look out over the desert encampment. And when she turned Helix and went to follow Kahlil down the stony path again his words were still echoing excitingly in her head: We are to be married today…we are to be married today…we are to be married today…

  ‘That was quite a ride,’ Kahlil called to her above the clatter of two sets of hooves rattling in tandem across the stableyard.

  ‘It certainly was,’ Lucy agreed, wiping her face on her sleeve.

  ‘You’re an accomplished horsewoman,’ he added, making her glow with pleasure.

  ‘You’re not bad yourself.’ In fact Kahlil was the most accomplished rider she had ever seen outside a show ring. And his stallion, Helix, had almost been too much for her—almost, but not quite. She had formed a pact with the mighty beast: he wouldn’t throw her off and she would allow him to gallop flat out and keep his nose just ahead of Terco. Pride. It was just as important to every animal on the planet—both man and beast, Lucy reflected as she jumped down to the ground.

  ‘Hey,’ Kahlil exclaimed, just in time to catch her and prevent her falling to the ground when her legs gave way. ‘Why didn’t you wait for me to help you dismount?’

  ‘Because I thought I was stronger than I am,’ Lucy admitted, her legs still trembling violently after the exertions of the ride. But even if her limbs were letting her down, her spirit felt as if it had just had an injection of the great black stallion’s energy. And this wasn’t such a bad outcome, she conceded, relaxing into Kahlil’s arms for a moment as the groom came to lead the horses away. ‘That was a really great workout. Thank you,’ she said, straightening up to face him.

  ‘Thank you?’ Kahlil said. ‘There’s no need for you to thank me, Lucy. These are as much your horses now as mine. And if I’d only known you rode so well we could have arranged to ride out together sooner.’

  ‘That’s just it, isn’t it?’ Lucy said quietly. ‘We don’t know anything about each other, do we, Kahlil?’

  ‘We could learn.’

  ‘Do you want to?’

  He wasn’t going to make it easy for her, Lucy realised when Kahlil walked away from her without answering. She watched him carefully checking over the two horses for any unsuspected injuries now they were unsaddled.

  ‘Sponge them down—they’ve had a good, hard run,’ he said to the groom, shooting a faintly bemused glance at Lucy, as if he was still coming to terms with the fact that they might have something more in common than a son they both loved.

  She could almost see him wondering what other surprises might lie in store…and she felt very much the same, Lucy realised as she turned to go.

  ‘Wait.’ Wiping his hands on his breeches, Kahlil came across to her. ‘I just wanted to say—’

  ‘Yes?’ Lucy said, looking up at him.

  ‘How much I enjoyed that,’ Kahlil admitted, raking his fingers through his thick black hair as if he was unused to making such declarations.

  Lucy felt as if the air was a little clearer, the sky a little bluer, and her heart was suddenly far too big for her chest. ‘So did I,’ she said softly, staring deep into Kahlil’s eyes.

  ‘Lucy, is it too late?’

  ‘Too late?’ she said.

  ‘For you to stay?’

  ‘I won’t leave until the six months are up,’ she promised.

  ‘I don’t mean that. I mean—’ Kahlil looked away from her, back towards the stables, where the horses were leaning over the half-open doors as if they too were keen to hear what he had to say. ‘Will you stay longer than six months?’ he said.

  It was as if he found any admission of personal need awkward and embarrassing, Lucy realised. ‘Do you think I should?’ she asked.

  ‘I think you must,’ Kahlil said passionately.

  ‘I must?’

  ‘Please,’ he said, ‘don’t accuse me of trying to control you again.’ His voice was strained, and his eyes lingered on Lucy’s lips as if he couldn’t wait to kiss them again.

  ‘I won’t,’ she promised, her own gaze straying to Kahlil’s firm and very sensuous mouth.

  ‘I want you to stay longer than six months.’


  ‘How long, Kahlil?’ Lucy said, searching his eyes.

  ‘I want you to stay with me—for ever. I love you, Lucy.’

  ‘You love me?’ she repeated incredulously.

  ‘I don’t want you to leave me—I couldn’t bear it if you left me,’ Kahlil admitted. ‘There is no one I would rather have to sit beside me one day on the throne of Abadan, no one else I want to bear my children, and no one but you can be my wife.’

  Lucy could never have imagined Kahlil expressing himself in such an emotional way. The man she knew was all duty to his country, all fierce control over his life…‘Then I’ll stay,’ she said simply. And if he changed his mind when he had thought it through she would take him on any terms. She couldn’t contemplate a future without Kahlil.

  ‘You’ll stay as my wife?’

  ‘We are married. And we’re to be married again in just a few hours.’

  ‘I know marriage to me will be hard for you,’ he said. ‘I know you will have to embrace many responsibilities. It’s hardly fair of me to ask you—’

  Raising her hand, Lucy placed one finger over Kahlil’s lips, silencing him. ‘You want me to stay here in Abadan and be your wife? You know I will. We will be married for the next six months, and then, if you want me to stay on…’

  Taking her hand away and unfolding it to kiss her palm, Kahlil raised his eyes. ‘If you will have me, Lucy Benson, I want you to be my wife for a lot longer than six months.’

  When Lucy couldn’t speak he kissed her.

  The wedding was to be held in the early evening, as tradition demanded in Abadan. So she had the rest of the day to prepare, Lucy thought, coming back into her bedroom after her shower. Edward was being well taken care of by Leila, who’d said she should have some quiet time by herself.

  Right now, quiet time was the last thing she wanted, Lucy thought, securing a towel around her damp hair as she wandered across to the window. She wanted to jump up and down and share her happiness with everyone. She wanted to lean out of the window and shout out the news that Kahlil, Sheikh of Abadan, loved her.

  Fastening her robe a little more securely, she planted her hands on the stone ledge and stared out. She smiled, picturing the usual early-morning group, with Kahlil at its head and his loyal aide bustling along next to him. And then her smile faltered. Was she making too much of it? Had the ride into the hills been just a fleeting, if rather wonderful moment? There was such a history of mistrust and misunderstanding between them—was one morning enough to set things right?

  She wouldn’t know the answer to that until after the wedding. Kahlil was far too concerned with fine-tuning the last-minute arrangements.

  Leila had said that over a thousand wedding guests were expected—and that might even be a conservative estimate, Lucy thought, remembering the tented city Kahlil had shown her. Tribesmen were arriving from every corner of his desert kingdom for the ceremony. Her heart thundered with excitement at the thought of it.

  Pulling away from the window, Lucy smiled to herself as she remembered every moment of Kahlil’s kiss. It had been so tender; he had never kissed her like that before. And romance was in the air. Even the sternest of his attendants were smiling and singing under their breath, and the women insisted on scattering rose petals beneath her feet every chance they got.

  But perhaps it would be better not to get carried away. Maybe Kahlil was just trying to be kind to her, to thank her in his own way for her co-operation…But something had definitely sparked into life between them during their hair-raising gallop across the desert. Something that had brought them closer than words—but then again maybe she was imagining the whole thing, Lucy thought with a sigh.

  ‘That’s a heart-felt sigh. I thought our ride had exorcised all your devils—apparently I was mistaken?’

  ‘Kahlil!’ He had just showered, Lucy realised. His hair was still damp and he was dressed in a simple Arab robe, his head covered with a flowing white gutrah that contrasted starkly against his tan. ‘I didn’t expect you.’

  ‘So I see,’ he said, coming closer. ‘I believe we have some unfinished business. But before we get to that…’

  ‘Yes?’ Lucy said, feeling her buoyant mood dissolve and wondering why.

  ‘There’s something I have to say to you—something I have to tell you. No,’ he said firmly, softly, ‘don’t turn away from me, Lucy. There have been too many misunderstandings between us, and I want to set things straight before we are married—truly married. Will you give me that chance?’

  ‘Of course,’ Lucy whispered, wanting to stop up her ears for fear of what he might say.

  ‘My initial intention was to take Westbury Hall from you without a moment’s conscience or hesitation.’ Kahlil brought Lucy in front of him so she couldn’t escape the harsh truth he had to tell her. ‘I wanted the Hall for myself, for my new palace, and only you stood in my way. I forced the bank to withdraw your loan. I did cheat you. As for the purchase of the Hall being a game for me—you were right. It did start as a game—but it ended as a love match.’

  ‘And that first time we made love?’

  ‘I wanted you. I didn’t plan to fall in love—just as you didn’t know that Edward would bring us back together again. I had to tell you the truth, Lucy, before the ceremony. Can you forgive me?’

  ‘Can you forgive me?’ she said softly. ‘For keeping Edward from you?’

  Kahlil’s answer was to trace the outline of Lucy’s face very lightly with one hand. ‘I can only thank you for bringing my son to me, and for coming back into my life,’ he said, staring deep into her eyes.

  ‘Won’t it cause comment if we are seen together before the wedding?’ Lucy said, reading Kahlil’s gaze.

  ‘We have no such superstitions here in Abadan,’ he assured her in a whisper. ‘And I have dismissed the servants…no one will disturb us.’

  Lucy felt her legs weaken and sensuous heat flood her veins. ‘We will be married tonight in the eyes of your countrymen…’

  ‘Must I wait?’ Kahlil demanded softly.

  ‘Can you?’

  ‘No,’ he admitted wryly.

  ‘No control?’ Lucy whispered.

  ‘No wish to wait—because I love you, Lucy Benson.’

  And then he kissed her, backing her towards the bed, stripping off her towelling robe at the same time. The towel on Lucy’s head tumbled to the floor seconds later, releasing her soft blonde hair so it tumbled around her shoulders in shimmering disarray. And when she lifted her arms to try and arrange it more neatly Kahlil wouldn’t let her.

  ‘That’s how I like to see you,’ he murmured. Running his fingertips lightly over the inside of her uplifted arms, he moved on to the round globes of her breasts, cupping them in his hands, weighing them appreciatively, his fingers straying to tantalise her painfully engorged nipples. ‘Now…shall I let you wait until our wedding night, or would you like me to continue?’

  For answer Lucy spread her fingers over his shoulders and clutched him tight, her eyes imploring as she dragged him with her to the bed.

  ‘Oh, well,’ Kahlil said, laughing under his breath at her eagerness, ‘if you insist…’

  ‘I do,’ Lucy assured him, raising her eyebrows as she lay back on the silken coverlet. ‘But you’re rather overdressed,’ she chastised him softly, smiling approval when he stripped off his clothes.

  ‘Now I’m not,’ Kahlil said, stretching his naked length out beside her, barely touching, so that Lucy began to tingle all over her body, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

  ‘Kahlil, don’t tease me.’

  ‘Why not?’ he demanded softly, running the tips of his fingers down between her breasts and on over the soft swell of her stomach. ‘It’s what I do best, after all.’

  With a groan, Lucy reached for him. She’d had enough teasing, enough waiting too. He was everything she wanted—everything she needed. And it had been far, far too long.

  They fit together so completely, so perfectly, the pleasure wa
s almost unendurable. Sinking deep inside her, Kahlil moved slowly, deeply, and then, when she thought that it was everything pleasure could be, and was grateful for it, he sank even deeper, and moved from side to side, nudging, pressing, rubbing until she cried out in ecstasy and couldn’t wait for him to tip her over the edge.

  ‘Restraint,’ Kahlil warned softly, starting to move again when she quietened. ‘Haven’t I taught you the Eastern way?’

  ‘The Western way isn’t so bad,’ Lucy whispered against his mouth. ‘My quantity, your quality—a perfect blend, wouldn’t you agree?’

  Kahlil’s answer was a groan of pleasure equal to her own as she reached down and cupped him, running the tips of her sharp fingernails very lightly across the tautly stretched flesh beneath his pulsing erection. And then he turned her quickly, unexpectedly, so that she was mounted on top of him.

  ‘I’ve seen you ride,’ he reminded her, stroking her buttocks with the most tantalisingly light touch. ‘So, ride…’

  ‘We’re going to be late for our own wedding,’ Lucy warned Kahlil very much later. Stretching out one blush pink arm, she picked up her wristwatch.

  Every part of her was blush-pink, she realised with amusement, falling back onto the bed beside Kahlil. His stamina was extraordinary.

  ‘Thank goodness tonight is our wedding night,’ she said, speaking her thoughts out loud. She could hardly wait until he made love to her again.

  ‘And thank goodness it will be a very different wedding night from our first,’ Kahlil murmured, reaching up to brush an errant strand of hair off Lucy’s face. ‘I don’t think I could stand another night of cold sheets and inertia.

  ‘You too?’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Me too,’ Kahlil admitted wryly.

  ‘OK, so I promise you hot sheets and constant action,’ Lucy said, laughing as she fell into his arms. ‘But right now, Sheikh Kahlil, we have to get up.’

  Kahlil made a sound of agreement deep in his throat. ‘More’s the pity. I must take you riding again very soon.’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ Lucy said happily. ‘Only…’

  ‘Only?’ Kahlil said, pulling her back so he could look into her face.