Beauty and the Sheikh

by Shelli Stevens

  Holly glanced over her shoulder at the two guards who rode a good distance back now. Earlier she’d overheard what had sounded like Rafiq asking for privacy. Which was nice, being able to go out without them hovering so close, but then the desert was so wide open it was easy to see any danger that might be approaching.

  Not that Rafiq seemed all that worried.

  She stole another look at him and noted the sudden frown on his face as he stared over the horizon. She followed his gaze and a shiver of unease skated down her spine.

  There was a haze of red in the distance.

  “What is it, Rafiq?” But she already had an idea.

  “A sandstorm is building.” He turned his camel and shouted something to the guards behind them.

  Holly couldn’t begin to interpret their harried words. Her gaze had darted back to the horizon and the haziness took on a more sinister meaning. Of course she’d heard about these, and several had passed through the desert while they were in the palace. But out here, being so exposed, it was far more threatening.

  “We must try to make it back to the palace, Holly. Quickly.”

  The nice, moseying pace had been perfect for her. Cold sweat broke out on her neck at the idea of a camel running breakneck speed while a sandstorm bore down on them. “Your guards—”

  “Have already retreated by my order. We must hurry.” Rafiq glanced back at the horizon and cursed.

  Panic hit full-fledged and Holly scrambled to turn the camel around, but the camel resisted.

  “We’ll never make it,” Rafiq muttered savagely and the next thing she knew, his arm snagged around her waist and she was plucked from her saddle as if she weighed nothing.

  Her world tilted as he maneuvered her in front on him on his camel.

  “Hold on,” he yelled and then urged the camel into a run.

  Holly clutched the horn and bit back a panicked cry. Oh God, what was he doing? Rafiq didn’t turn around toward the palace as his guards had, but instead rode them straight toward the storm.

  “Rafiq!”

  “Trust me, habiba.” His words brushed against her ear, a reassuring caress she desperately clung to.

  She did trust him, but it didn’t ease her fear as sand began to swirl up around them, the tiny particles stinging her face.

  “Close your eyes, Holly. We’ll be there shortly!”

  There? Where was there? She squeezed her eyes closed. The wild pounding of her heart was nearly in perfect rhythm with the camel’s sprint.

  Rafiq’s strong arms kept her still in the saddle, a physical restraint she welcomed as the world around them slipped into chaos. Vaguely she became aware they’d slowed and she risked a quick glance to discover where they were. A large black tent loomed in front of them and she blinked to clear her vision, certain she was seeing things.

  It soon became a blur of black among the swirling sand. They came to an abrupt stop and the camel kneeled to let them off once more. She felt rather than saw Rafiq dismount. He reached for her, pulling her from the saddle and rushing her toward the tent.

  Holly buried her face against Rafiq’s side as the wind howled around them, the sand continuing its relentless attack.

  And then the world around them dimmed and the roaring of the storm diminished some.

  Holly opened her eyes, relief weakening her limbs. “Where are we?”

  They were obviously in some kind of large tent, but definitely not the kind you took camping in the woods. It seemed heavier, sturdier, and quite larger than any tent she’d seen. Also, it was much cooler than the stifling heat outside.

  “We keep several tents maintained throughout my desert,” Rafiq explained brusquely as he moved about, turning on what looked like battery-operated lamps and flooding the interior with dim lighting. “They can be shelters for events such as this, or a place to rest during travel.”

  The sand beneath them was nearly covered by a large red-patterned area rug, and throughout the tent there were pillows and blankets.

  Holly flinched as the tent shook with the force of the storm. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted and it took all her willpower not to cry out with fear.

  Rafiq held no fear though, and seemed almost irritated as he circled the interior of the tent fiddling with things. Finally he returned to her, his gaze unreadable in the dim lighting. “We will be safe waiting out the storm in here.”

  Would they? It was hard to believe with the violence of the wind outside. She didn’t want to think of the massive wall of sand she’d seen on the horizon—knowing it was rushing toward them and they weren’t even in the worst of it yet.

  But at least they were inside, and if Rafiq said they would be safe, she trusted him.

  “What about your camels?”

  “They will be fine. The animals are well-adapted to surviving sandstorms.” His gaze softened as it fell on her and he closed the small distance separating them, pulling her into his arms. “Trust me, habiba, I’ve weathered many storms before. It is all part of living in the desert.”

  “You must think I’m a terrible coward.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his robe and listening to the calming beat of his heart. “Afraid to fly. Afraid of a sandstorm.”

  “You are not a coward. I’ve seen grown men react like children in the face of such storms. They can be quite terrifying and this is your first storm outside the palace.”

  The wind grew louder and she swallowed hard. “Does it get much worse?”

  “Yes, I won’t lie to you. Come.” He urged her deeper into the tent.

  Holly’s heart skipped as he led her to a mass of blankets and pillows. She sank down and a moment later her joined her, his expression growing somber.

  “I’m sorry, Holly. I would’ve never brought you riding had I known we would encounter a storm.”

  Holly couldn’t resist reaching up to touch the strong lines of his jaw. “But you didn’t know, so you can’t possibly blame yourself.”

  He didn’t reply, but his expression seemed to grow more troubled. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. Never.”

  Chapter 16

  Rafiq’s mouth sought hers in a gentle, reassuring kiss. And just like the storm outside, it seemed to gain momentum. He deepened it, demanding a response and summoning her desire.

  His hand slid beneath her loose shirt to cup her breast and she cried out with pleasure. He never lifted his mouth from hers while his hands traveled her body.

  The linen trousers were no barrier to him, and his seeking fingers explored the ache between her thighs. Holly’s head fell back against the mass of soft pillows; her hips rose and fell as he brought her quickly to the edge.

  Outside the tent, the storm had reached them. The walls shook, the sand assaulted, the wind howled, but they were all secondary to the sensations taking over her heart and body. And then he pushed her over the edge, stroking her into abandon until she sobbed with pleasure and gripped the fabric of his robe.

  With her mind quieted and her body still trembling, Holly found herself in Rafiq’s arms. His lips pressed against her forehead as his hand stroked down her back.

  “I want you,” he murmured thickly. “But I have no protection.”

  Though her body was sated, there was still an ache, only this time it was in her heart. He hadn’t taken her completely because he didn’t want to risk getting her pregnant.

  Would it really be so awful? She wanted to ask the question, but why bother when she already knew the answer?

  Her fear of the storm diminished as a trickle of sadness made its way into her heart.

  “You’ve gone quiet, habiba.”

  “I’m trying not to think about the storm,” she lied. “And I’m a little tired.”

  “Rest then.” He adjusted her in the cradle of his arms and brushed another kiss over her forehead. “We will return home soon.”

  Home. Funny how she’d come to think of it as such. Her thoughts slid to Portland and h
er small apartment there. She didn’t miss it. Not really. Perhaps she missed her friends, but she didn’t miss the cold or gray skies. And Portland lacked the one thing she would miss most. Rafiq.

  And he was the one man she could never have.

  The next few days, Rafiq kept his distance from Holly. He returned late at night to the palace and tried not to wake her. But today, with the dinner, he knew he must stop avoiding her.

  Since the day of the sandstorm, he hadn’t been able to shake the sense of unease riding him. Hadn’t been able to dismiss how much he’d allowed his feelings for her to addle his brain.

  What had he been thinking, the morning he’d taken her out riding? Were he thinking straight, he’d have realized the weather conditions were perfect for such a storm.

  But he hadn’t bothered to seek them out ahead of time. Had only wanted to spend time with her alone, outside the palace, and anticipated her excitement at riding a camel for the first time.

  And he’d placed them directly in harm’s way. Not only with the storm, but by sending his guards back to the palace and going on without them.

  Never, since the assassination attempt, had he been so alone and exposed. It was unheard of for him, the Sheikh of Raljahar, to enter an isolated desert tent without it being cleared by a guard first.

  Not that Rafiq doubted he could’ve defended himself in an attack. His bigger fear was having Holly with him—her safety had become his priority. Which made him entirely too close to the man his father had been. A chill raced down his spine.

  Picking up his phone, Rafiq dialed the palace to inform them he would be returning earlier and requested to speak with Holly.

  “Miss Winchester is not within the palace, Your Majesty,” he was told. “She is out at the market this afternoon.”

  At the market? Rafiq disconnected the call and dialed the cell he’d given her. When she didn’t answer, a knot formed in his gut. He called out instructions for the driver to take him to the market instead.

  They pulled up out front of the crowded marketplace a moment later. His personal bodyguard slid from the front of the limo and followed Rafiq through the market.

  “Who is guarding Miss Winchester?” Rafiq asked him tersely. “Can you find him?”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  Rafiq continued to search the market as the guard placed a call. He listened to the one-sided conversation and learned his guard was being given Holly’s location.

  “This way,” the guard said a moment later, urging Rafiq through the crowds and toward a smaller building.

  Rafiq’s bodyguard insisted on traveling first through the narrow hall of the building, and a deep sense of unease gathered in Rafiq’s gut.

  This was not the market—there were no shops back here. What was Holly’s purpose, being in such a place?

  They stopped outside a closed door, where Rafiq noted Holly’s guard standing.

  “Where is she?” Rafiq demanded, his gaze sliding to the closed door.

  “Your Majesty, she is inside. But if you would wait a moment, I can retrieve her.”

  Retrieve her? What was it that Holly’s guard did not want Rafiq to see? Was she meeting someone? Images of her and another man danced in his mind. His vision went red.

  “Open this door now.” His voice resonated through the narrowed hallways and had the two guards cringing.

  Before anyone could move to obey him though, the door swung open and Holly appeared in the entryway. Her hair was disheveled and falling free around her shoulders, her expression stricken. “Rafiq? What on earth are you doing here?”

  What was he doing here? She dared ask? Rafiq’s jaw clenched as he glanced beyond her into what appeared to be someone’s house.

  He struggled to control his temper as the tic in his jaw quickened, but the images of her and another man didn’t stop. He saw the unease in her eyes as she twisted her fingers and could no longer deny the truth.

  Later, he would deal with her, but for now, someone else would pay. He turned on the guard he’d assigned to her.

  “How often did you bring her here?” he accused, thrusting the man against the stone wall. “Did you take her to meet her lover? You would dare to go against your Sheikh this way!”

  The guard’s eyes widened. “Your Majesty, please.”

  “Stop!” Holly’s fingers curled around Rafiq’s arms as she struggled to pull him off her guard. “Rafiq, you must stop. It’s not how it seems.”

  He growled low in his throat and brushed her free as if she were an annoying bug. “What is not, habiba?” he ground out. “That he did not protect you while you met another man daily? What a fool I am to not suspect your daily trips to the market were to—”

  “I wasn’t meeting a lover,” she cried. “I was studying Arabic.”

  Rafiq nearly laughed at her ridiculous excuse but then froze. It sank in then that every word they’d exchanged since she ran into the hallway had been in his language. Not perfect, but close enough that it hadn’t registered.

  He released the guard and turned to face Holly once more. Her eyes were wide and her lips trembled with fury.

  A movement in the doorway revealed a woman and her child, staring at him with obvious trepidation.

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” the guard behind him apologized. “Miss Winchester wanted to surprise you and begged me not to say anything. I assumed since I ensured her safety there was no harm. I am sorry if I made the wrong choice.”

  Rafiq lifted his hand to silence him, not turning his focus from Holly. “Enough,” he muttered distractedly. “Please, if you could have the limo brought around to the front of the building. We will return to the palace at once.”

  He gave quick instructions to his guard, and the man strode forward and handed the woman in the doorway a handful of currency.

  The ride back to the palace was strained at best. Holly glowered at him, and he found himself shifting in his seat under her furious stare.

  “You still don’t trust me.”

  Finally she’d spoken, but he flinched inwardly at her toneless words.

  “I told you once I don’t trust easily. Assuming the worst is habit.”

  Frustration flickered in her eyes. “Do you think that excuses it?”

  “No, perhaps not.” He paused, considering his words. “I had no idea you wanted to learn Arabic. If you had but asked I could have hired you the best tutor in Raljahar.”

  “I didn’t want you to know, Rafiq. That was the whole idea. I wanted to be able to interact with your guests tonight in their own language.” The anger seemed to leave her in a rush. Her shoulders crumpled as she turned her attention out the window. “It was to be a surprise for you. A silly one, I suppose.”

  “Not silly at all.” Actually, probably one of the most touching things someone had ever done for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. “Though possibly dangerous. There will, of course, be repercussions for your bodyguard.”

  Holly stiffened and turned to look at him again. “Rafiq, he didn’t tell you because I instructed him not to.”

  He gave a soft laugh of genuine amusement. “I am the Sheikh, habiba. All things are to be reported to me.”

  “You swore I wasn’t a prisoner.”

  “And you have never been treated as one, but your safety is my concern and I must be kept apprised of your whereabouts.”

  “This is ridiculous.” Her hands balled into fists, as if she were trying to restrain herself. “I was never in any danger.”

  “That has yet to be established.”

  “You can’t punish him for what I’ve done.”

  Rafiq sighed. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with her. There were lines his employees didn’t cross, and the man guarding Holly had crossed a big one. “He broke my trust, Holly. He must be dealt with.”

  “Dealt with? Do you even know his name, Rafiq?”

  His brows drew together as he stared at her growing agitation. “I can’t rem
ember it at the moment, but does it matter?”

  “Yes! His name is Mahdi. He has a wife and children. If you fire him—”

  “Do not begin to tell me how to run my country.” Finished with this conversation, his tone held enough icy warning to make her draw back against the seat.

  But it didn’t keep her silent. “Somehow, these past few weeks I’d thought you’d changed, Rafiq.”

  “You should be careful with your presumptions.” He flashed her a hard smile. “I demand a certain level of accountability from my employees, Holly. Even more so from my lovers.”

  She shook her head slowly as her lips compressed.

  The limo arrived back at the palace and she was out the door before he could move. He followed her into the palace, but her brisk pace clearly indicated she wanted nothing more to do with him or this conversation.

  What did she expect, though? She’d put her safety at risk. Surely she could understand why he would be upset now?

  Rafiq strode through the palace after her, ignoring the startled glances of his staff as they retreated back into the shadows. His hands curled into fists as he bit back a growl of frustration.

  Once in the room, he slammed the door behind him. “Don’t walk away from me.”

  She ignored him and quickened her stride toward the bathroom, but he beat her there, catching her arm and swinging her back around.

  “Holly—”

  “I thought you would be happy I was learning your language.” There were tears in her eyes as she thumped his chest with her fist. “I thought you’d changed. I have no idea who you are right now.”

  His heart twisted and all his anger fled. “You know who I am, habiba.”

  “You’re not the man I fell in love with,” she choked out.

  The silence that fell over the room was so sudden and thick—only broken by the furious pounding of Rafiq’s heart.

  Holly’s words seemed to resound in the room. Spreading joy and a sharp, poignant fear.

  She loved him.

  “I shouldn’t have said that,” she whispered, lifting her hands to her mouth. “I don’t know why I said that.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” Rafiq pulled her to him, his hands not quite steady, and lowered his mouth just above hers. “Please, habiba, don’t regret those words.”