Her deep sigh of relief made him smile deeper, and he walked outside of the cabin, shutting the door behind him. Soon she would long for his touch; it was a moment he would look forward to as he gave her the privacy she needed tonight.
Michaela quickly removed the rest of her clothing and stepped inside the steaming water. Her nerves were strung so tightly that it took several moments for her muscles to relax. Fearful of dallying to long, she wet her long hair and quickly lathered it with the fragrant soaps that hung on a tray attached to the tub. She had no idea how long he would be gone and decided that enjoying her bath was not an option tonight. Rinsing her hair thoroughly, she moved on to scrub her body with haste. The last thing she wanted was to be still bathing as he made his way back into the room. Her hands begin to tremble as she understood that they would be forced to share the large bed in this cabin tonight, even if she was only prepared to sleep.
Rinsing off, she stood on shaking legs and reached for the long bath towel and dried her body briskly. 'Stop being a coward,' she chided herself out loud. She had not entered into this marriage of her own violation, she enforced her own resolve, and her duty was complete as far as she was concerned. Glancing around the room her eyes frantically searched for her chests and felt herself begin to panic as they were nowhere in sight. He could return at any moment, and the last thing she wanted was to confront him dressed only in a towel.
There was no way she could put on her discarded dress without help and she felt panic set in even more deeply. With no other choice in her mind she went over to his chests and pulled out a long white robe. Anger consumed her earlier fear as she slid the huge garment over her head. How dare he not have her clothing in this room, she thought as she struggled to roll up the long sleeves of the soft material. In truth the robe covered as much of her body as her shift would have, but it was the principle of the matter. The robe's neckline was way to revealing as it was meant for his tall frame and not her petite stature, but it engulfed the rest of her body in large voluminous folds.
She would voice her displeasure when he returned she vowed, her eyes looking around until they fell upon a silver encrusted hair comb. The anger was much less intimidating than her earlier fear, and she quickly worked the comb through her long thick strands until it fell in damp curls down her back.
Armon stood outside on the deck and overlooked the moonlit sea. The salty air pleased his senses, and he allowed his mind to wander toward the beauty that awaited him only a few feet away. The sea was calm this evening, and it mellowed his mood even as his loins ached with desire to possess his bride. He enjoyed the night air until he felt she had been given enough time to prepare for his return before making his way back to the cabin.
Opening the door, he could only smile at the inviting picture she made dressed in his clothing. "My clothes suit you," he spoke kindly, allowing his gaze to roam over her form seductively.
"Where are my things," she demanded haughtily, her ire increasing at the strange possessive look in his eyes.
He had been prepared for her anger, but had hoped it was a trial that could wait until the morning, apparently it was not to be so. "Your clothing is unacceptable for a woman in my land, so they remain below deck." He kept his tone calm, not wishing their evening to begin with hostility.
"Unacceptable?" She could only stare at him as if he had lost his mind. "Then pray tell me what you would have me wear?" The man had no right to tell her how to dress she thought angrily, and he needed to understand she would not tolerate his high-handed behavior.
He noted the growing rage in her emerald eyes and fought for control. "The servants will have things brought up at first light for your use," he was thankful that the last shipment of clothing for his sister still remained below, or she would have been forced to wear his clothing for the duration of the trip.
"I do not appreciate you confiscating my things, and demand you return them at once," her chin lifted defiantly as her eyes met his refusing to back down. Her chest rose and fell with each harsh breath as her anger grew.
"You would do well to remember your place," his voice raised sternly at her disrespectful attitude. He considered himself a man of easy temperance, but the girl would try the patience of a holy man, he thought.
"My place?" She was infuriated at his condescending attitude. "Perhaps you should explain my place, your Highness!" She wanted to slap the superior look from his handsome face and her small hands balled into fists at her side. "If you think for one moment that I will kneel down and do your bidding, you are sadly mistaken!"
With quick powerful strides he moved in front of her and grasped her chin. "You would do well to remember that I now own you, and if I choose to throw you overboard not one member on this ship would dare raise an eyebrow!" He had not meant to be so verbal with his new bride, but she needed to learn her duties quickly. Had she made such a comment in his homeland her own life would have been forfeit.
Her eyes widened at his statement and she felt for the first time the helplessness of her gender, still she refused to give a quarter. "You would be wise to throw me overboard now if you think I will allow you to rule my mind, it will not be so!" The thought of having her life end frightened her, but it was better to give over to death than allow this man to rule her.
His anger consumed him and without thought his lips found hers, effectively cutting off her vengeful words. The kiss was not tender by any means, and only served to silence her.
She gasped at the first feel of his mouth against hers and was shocked to feel his tongue slide into her mouth. The flood of sensations moved through her body instantaneously and she was lost as he devoured her. Her head felt light and she clung to his wide shoulders as her knees threatened to give way. Without any thought of her own, she returned his kiss, completely forgetting the rage that had led to this moment.
The sweet taste of her had his body throbbing with need and his hands moved to her back then lowered to her softly rounded ass, pulling her against him with little thought to her lack of experience. She belonged to him, his mind screamed and he refused to be denied. His tongue dueled with hers as he deepened the kiss, slowly inching her backwards to the bed. Falling onto the soft folds the kiss was broken and he felt some remorse for the breathlessness of his bride as his body fell upon hers carelessly.
She stared up into his chocolate gaze, confused at the overwhelming pleasure that filled her. Her body betrayed her mind and she inched up on the bed, desperate to move away from him so her thoughts would calm enough to end this.
He had no intention of allowing her escape and followed her, his large hand grasping both of her wrists and holding them above her head. "You will not deny me what is rightfully mine", his lips silenced any protest she might have uttered as his free hand roamed over her covered body reaching the swell of her breast through the robe.
She should fight him, her mind screamed, even as her body arched toward his strong hand in betrayal. His fingers moved across the peak of her breast, causing it to tighten painfully and she whimpered helplessly. Even through the soft material she ached for his touch. Her small wrists fought against the hold, not sure if she was attempting to escape or wrap her fingers in his thick hair.
His mouth left hers and she bit her lip to stop from crying out in denial. With agonizing slowness, his lips trailed across her chin, then lowered to the arch of her neck and continued on to her collarbone. She lost all ability to think as sensation flooded through her. Almost instantly her hands were released and she felt the blood flow back through them where his grip had held her tightly.
Pulling her up to her knees, he lifted the offending robe not giving her a moment of respite as he threw it carelessly across the room. The need to take her was overwhelming and his only thought was fulfilling his needs. Her arms quickly covered her ample breasts and he growled angrily, pushing her back on the bed.
Without care he pulled her arms away, once again gathering her wrists in one large hand as his eyes feasted on
the perfection of her body. His large, muscled thighs moved between hers as his gaze travelled over the full, rose tipped mounds and his mouth watered.
The passion she had felt earlier was dimmed at the panic that now filled her body as he held her down. Struggling to free herself, her arms aching with exertion she could only watch helplessly as his eyes roamed freely. Completely bare to his gaze, she had never known such humiliation and bit her lip to stop the sob that threatened to escape. "Please," she hated herself for being reduced to begging, and hated him even more for bringing her to this point. Closing her eyes tightly to stop the tears that threatened to fall, she understood just how vulnerable she was for the first time in her life.
Her softly spoken words filtered through his heated body and he glanced down at his wife in shame. He knew that had she not spoken he would have taken her without any consideration, and quickly released her wrists. He moved off her body, shocked at his own actions.
Michaela grabbed the silken sheet and pulled it up to her chin, fearful of his next move. She trembled violently, watching warily as he sat up on the side of the bed his back turned to her. Grasping the sheet firmly in her hands she tried to calm her erratic breathing, not sure what his next move would be.
Armon fought for control, his body stiff as he stared seeing nothing. He had never allowed his restraint to falter, but he had nearly taken his young bride in a way that would have hurt her physically and mentally. He was not a cruel man, and prided himself on gaining what he desired by intelligence, not domination. For long moments he considered his actions with disgust, before turning back to her, fully in control once more.
He noted the fear in her eyes and how her body shrank back from him and felt disgust. "Forgive me," he spoke harshly, not liking admitting he had wronged her or being one accustomed to apologizing. She remained quiet, and for once he wished she would shout at him, her silence proving that he had overstepped even his own boundaries. "Rest, Michaela I will not touch you this night," he doubted his own self-control and would not allow himself to harm her until he knew his desire could be reined in.
She wanted to believe he was offering her a respite, but there was so much anger in his gaze that she feared him. It was readily apparent that he could do with her as he wished after the way things had progressed this evening. Never in her life had she felt so completely unsure of herself. Not wishing to anger him further, she turned over to her side and faced the wall. The tension filled her body as she worried at any moment he would demand more.
Armon stood and extinguished the candles in the room. He considered walking on deck but rethought his decision. He was not a man to walk away from his mistakes, and he felt tonight he had committed a grave wrong. He knew that a female required a gentle initiation into the sensual world, his own deceased father had taught him the lesson early in his manhood. While a woman was made for his pleasure, he also believed that when trained correctly they would be more willing to give freely of their bodies.
Sliding back into bed he forced his mind away from the temptation that lay only scant inches away. The girl was headstrong and willful, but he knew it was only a matter of time before she surrendered to him. Had she been raised in his country, she would have known what was expected from her he thought, and for that reason alone he would grant her a little more leeway. There was much she needed to learn about his customs, and her training would begin in the morning.
Michaela remained huddled up miserably on her side of the bed, her thoughts ravaged with the strange conflicts of his behavior tonight. She had felt things with him this eve that shocked her before fear had consumed her. Had anyone told her it was possible to feel such things, she would have called them out as a liar. His lips pressed against hers had made her want things she could not comprehend, as did the touch of his fingers grazing her breast. She knew defying him would be much harder than she previously had thought. Her rest was troubled with strange dreams of being wrapped in his arms as she finally succumbed.
5 Storms
The sweet aroma of food woke Michaela and she lifted up on her elbows to see her husband studying a book while enjoying his coffee. The sight tugged at her heart for reasons unbeknown to her. She quietly observed the expressions on his handsome face as he lost himself in the text, and could only wonder what had captured his attention.
Feeling eyes upon him, he turned his gaze to his bride and attempted a smile. "The coffee is becoming cool," his words were pleasant. He had much of the morning to consider how he would move forward and from her love of books, he hoped to gain some mutual understanding. "There is much I would share with you." He lifted the book he was holding in temptation.
Sliding from the bed, she arranged the long robe before joining him at the table. It was hard to resist his lure, as her mind was curious already. She watched his strong hand pour her coffee and remembered the feelings of those long digits on her flesh last night. A blush found her cheeks at the thought and as she took the cup from his hand, her own trembled.
It pleased him to know she was not as unaffected by his presence as she would have him think. He moved his chair close to hers and prepared to translate the book as it was written in Arabic. He was startled when she read the first line, albeit clumsily. "How are you able to read this," he lifted a brow.
"My father was a diplomat, much like my great uncle," she shrugged as if it were perfectly normal, "I enjoy different languages."
He marveled at the woman before him and felt a sense of pride that she belonged to him. "Please continue," he handed the book over, knowing well how the text read, since he had recited the passages many times as a younger man.
She stumbled over a few of the words, but managed to right herself. She had read a book previously about the religions of his country but still found it fascinating, if not barbaric. Stopping as she reached a point that visibly upset her she looked up into his eyes, shocked at the warmth that rested in his gaze. Finding it hard to speak as he stared at her so intently, she stuttered somewhat in her speech. "W-why do you allow your women s-so few choices?"
He knew instinctively that this was a subject she took very seriously and fought to explain it in a way that her nationality could understand. "Our women are honored and protected, Michaela, I understand that this must be hard for you to comprehend, but that which we do, we do out of respect for them."
"How can you say that, when they are forced to cover themselves from head to toe?" She was dumb-founded by his explanation.
"History has shown us that women were traditionally mistreated and we do not allow the male race to gaze upon them openly. It is for their own protection as men have been known to be unable to control their own desires when faced with a beautiful woman." In truth his marriage was absolutely proof of the fact he was speaking.
She thought carefully on his words, and while she disagreed with the dress code, she found it hard to argue that men were incapable of containing their desires as well as a woman. The thought brought a smile to her face.
"I have amused you?" He returned the smile not knowing her thoughts.
"Truly it is nothing," she bit her lip to stop the laugh that threatened to escape. "Is it true that you are allowed many wives?" For reasons she cared not to dwell on the thought of him having another wife made her angry. "Do you have a wife?" What if he already possessed another, she lifted her eyes to his, the joy leaving her immediately.
"We are allowed more than one wife," he could see the anger filling her eyes at his words, and was once again pleased. "I do not have another wife," he paused to allow his words to sink in, "yet."
"You will take another though?" Why should she care, she thought to herself, their own men visited the houses of ill repute to save their wives from suffering the constant pressures of the marriage bed. She told herself it was better than he had all the women he could handle, so her own bed would remain untouched.
"It is expected that I have many sons," he rationalized with a shrug of his wide shoulders.
> She turned her attention back to the book not willing to allow the anger that seeped into her thoughts to gain footing over that thought. He could have all the women he chose, but she would not be one of his whores.
He was learning her moods well, he thought watching as her beautiful lips tightened when she was displeased. "Does it anger you that you will not be my only wife?" He smiled knowing full well it did, but was curious to see if she would deny it.
She considered lying to him, but that was a coward's way out in her opinion. "I will not bed a man who cannot give me his full affection." This argument would work well she thought, it gave him an out and her the escape she so desperately needed.
"So you would be willing to pleasure me if I chose not to take another into my bed?" He had no intention of making such a declaration but again his curiosity was piqued.
"That is not what I meant," her face flushed in heat. This was definitely not a conversation she was willing to continue and she could only hope he would end it.
"Perhaps you should show me what I would be missing," he teased lightly, "so I may decide if you are worthy of my fidelity." The look on her beautiful face was priceless as her eyes widened in shock and he had to force himself not to smile.
"By all means take all the wives you want," she spoke quickly not wanting to encourage his line of thinking.
Taking the book from her hands he sat it on the table before turning to her. Their faces were only inches apart and his hand raised to grip her chin gently. "I would test your merit," he smiled before lowering his lips to hers and kissing her tenderly.
She raised her hands to push against his chest, but instead her hands gathered in the fabric as his kiss nearly took her breath away. He tasted of coffee and spice and her eyes closed of their own violation, enjoying the sensation. His tongue traced over the softness of her lips and she gasped giving him the opening he needed to delve deeper.
Defying the Sheikh Page 4