Hidden In the Sheikh's Harem

by Michelle Conder

  ‘Woman,’ Damian filled in as Luke still stared wide-eyed. ‘And you are!’

  ‘Was that a knife?’ Luke asked, confused.

  ‘Ah, a fake one,’ Zach parried. ‘And she’s not just any woman. She’s my wife.’

  He heard the note of pride in his voice and wondered if his friends did, too, the feeling he was struggling to name swelling inside his chest.

  ‘Wife? Well...hell,’ Damian sputtered. ‘I thought I heard hearts breaking when I woke up this morning. Where was the invite?’

  ‘We kept it small.’

  ‘So, okay...’ Luke shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it. ‘So, when you coming to the dock?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll have to check with Farah.’

  His two friends exchanged glances.

  ‘You’re coming to my party tonight, though, right?’ Damian questioned. ‘I mean, that is why you’re here, isn’t it?’

  ‘If the missus says yes,’ Luke said with mock seriousness.

  ‘Well, of course,’ Damian agreed. ‘If the missus says—’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Zach growled, half wondering if Damian’s party was really a good idea. ‘You two morons have had your fun, now shove off or you can forget a present.’

  ‘As long as she’s long-legged and big—’

  Zach slammed the door on their laughing faces. His friends were confirmed bachelors and Zach was just glad not to be one of them any more.

  He took the stairs two at a time and found Farah sitting cross-legged on the bed. He glanced around. ‘Where’s the knife?’

  ‘In the kitchen.’

  He made a mock-salute to the ceiling and saw her mouth twitch. ‘Feel like a walk to the harbour?’

  Her face brightened. ‘Yes. I’d love it. But I haven’t a thing to wear.’

  Zach strolled to the walk-in closet, opened the suitcase and pulled out a pair of tiny shorts. He’d told her maid to pack the Western clothing Imogen had organised for him, but he’d yet to show Farah. He grabbed a white T-shirt he knew would show off her olive skin and dark hair to perfection, lace panties and a bra he couldn’t wait to remove.

  She frowned when he dropped them on the bed. ‘Where did these come from?’

  ‘The built-in ’robe.’

  ‘The...’ she frowned. ‘I thought they were your suitcases in there. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘You didn’t ask.’ He smiled. ‘And it wasn’t as if you needed clothing.’

  ‘Oh.’ Clearly embarrassed, she picked up the shorts. ‘What are these?’

  ‘Shorts.’

  She eyed them sceptically. ‘And what do I wear them with?’

  ‘A T-shirt. Flip-flops.’

  ‘Flip-flops?’

  ‘Footwear.’

  She held the shorts against her hips and glanced back at him. ‘What else do I wear on my legs?’

  ‘Ah, nothing.’

  She frowned. ‘On the street?’

  ‘Sure.’

  She shook her head. ‘No.’ She jumped up off the bed and inspected the closet. A century later she came out holding a pair of jeans. ‘Where are my usual clothes?’

  ‘I thought you’d be more comfortable in Western clothing.’

  Her mouth pinched together and, just as he readied himself for an argument, she surprised him and huffed out a breath. ‘I’ll try them.’

  Thinking the day couldn’t get any better, he nearly choked when she came out after her shower dressed in the T-shirt and jeans. She pulled at the denim but they just sprung back into place, hugging her toned thighs as if they were sprayed on. ‘These don’t fit.’

  Zach nodded. ‘Turn around.’

  She did a quick twirl and he frowned. ‘You’ve just given me another idea,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m going to tell Nadir to make the wearing of jeans mandatory for all women in Bakaan, stat.’

  She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips and a shaft of sweet pleasure shot straight to Zach’s heart. ‘Be serious,’ she chided.

  ‘I am.’ He strolled towards her and curled his fingers into the waistband of her jeans, wondering if he’d ever felt happier than he did right now. ‘Very serious about making love to my wife one more time.’

  * * *

  Farah couldn’t stop smiling as they stepped out of the villa and into the bright sunshine. She hadn’t expected to feel this...this light-hearted about being married; this light-hearted about the man she was married to. She snuck a quick glance at him and tried not to ogle him in his fitted T-shirt, denims and tapered sunglasses.

  When he took her hand her heart seemed to skip a beat and she focused on her surroundings to tamp down the emotions she instinctively knew she had to keep in check.

  The harbour town was totally beautiful with its aqua-blue bay, sandy beaches and rows of pastel-coloured high-rise apartments and villas set into the hillside.

  But it was the people who held most of her attention, old and young and dressed in every combination of clothing she had ever seen in her magazines. One woman even had a small dog in her handbag with a diamond-studded collar and a bow in its hair. And then there was the trio of eye-catching women promenading towards them. They were slender to the point of being skinny, tanned golden-brown and wearing... She frowned, unable to recall what the word was for what looked like underwear. And they were looking at Zach as if they wanted to eat him alive.

  ‘Careful, habiba, you’re about to cut off my circulation.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Farah instantly eased her grip on his hand. ‘I just... Those women aren’t wearing any clothes.’

  Zach chuckled. ‘They’re wearing bikinis. Swimwear,’ he elaborated when she looked at him blankly.

  ‘They’re positively indecent,’ she whispered.

  ‘Sexy,’ he corrected.

  ‘You think they’re sexy?’

  His eyes skated over her body. ‘Sure. On the right woman.’

  Before she could ask who the right woman was, he redirected her. ‘Down here.’

  Farah continued to be bug-eyed as Zach led her along a beautiful pier lined with yachts the size of tall buildings. At the end was a row of streamlined boats, much smaller and shaped like brightly coloured race cars without wheels. Men were scurrying around them and, combined with the sound of the engines revving and the smell of petrol, the air was alive with a sense of expectation and fun. More girls in bikinis lined the pier, leaning over the weathered railing like decorations.

  Sticking close to Zach, Farah feigned a nonchalance she was far from feeling while he introduced her to his two friends from earlier and a group of other men and women who were clearly enamoured by the prince.

  When one of the men suggested Zach take the boat for a test run, she saw his face light up. ‘And I thought I was going to have to pull the owner card to get the gig.’

  Owner? He owned the boats?

  Turning to her, he checked if she was okay and she nodded. No way was she going to let him know that she was feeling completely out of her depth and wishing they were back in the apartment. Back in bed.

  It was only when the shiny speedboat revved away from the pier and took off in a powerful arc of white water that she felt riveted to the spot.

  ‘Watch how fast he is.’ Luke came up beside her. ‘There’s no one better behind the wheel.’

  Farah watched and her heart flew into her mouth when the bullet-shaped boat became airborne before crashing back down, spraying water into the air. ‘Is it supposed to do that?’

  ‘Oh yeah.’ His friend didn’t bother to hide his admiration. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants to race again sometime.’

  ‘Race?’

  ‘Yeah, he was unbeatable once, and when he
left he said his stint was over and he’d never get back in one of those babies again. But then he said he’d never marry a Bakaani girl, either.’ He winked at her. ‘Never say never, eh?’

  Never marry a Bakaani girl?

  Before she could fully process that piece of information, Zach had pulled the boat up to the pier and men were yelling and readying themselves to hold it steady.

  The look on his face was one of exhilaration and joy and she felt a momentary pang that he would never look at her like that.

  Brushing off her suddenly morbid thought, she nodded as Luke told her he’d see her at the party before jumping down to join Zach.

  ‘Luke said you might race again,’ she mentioned to Zach as they wandered back along the harbour a short time later.

  ‘No.’ Zach held her hand again. ‘When I finished up, I meant it.’ He stopped in front of an enormous navy-and-white yacht with music and lively conversation coming from the upper decks. ‘Ready?’

  No, she wasn’t ready. She wanted to ask him about what Luke had told her but something warned her to hold off. What did it matter anyway? She knew he hadn’t wanted to marry her. He’d made that plain.

  She glanced up to find Zach looking at her curiously and wondered if he guessed how unsettled she felt. ‘Sure,’ she hedged, pride refusing to let her lean against him, as if she was the kind of woman who could not take care of herself.

  Still, she couldn’t seem to stem her unease once they boarded the yacht, and the curious glances she received as more and more people realised she was with the prince didn’t help at all. The women especially gave her a weird vibe and didn’t seem to know what to make of her once they’d asked where she was from and how she had met the prince. Farah kept her answers deliberately vague—‘My father introduced us’—which earned her a smile from Zach. After that most people either ignored her or saw someone in the distance they simply had to speak with and walked away.

  Whatever.

  Farah didn’t care. For the most part Zach kept her by his side, proudly introducing her as his wife, and she was more pleased than she would have expected to be by that. Especially given that this marriage had been forced on both of them. Somehow in the past three days that hadn’t seemed relevant in the isolated nest of the apartment where she’d come to learn that, far from being an arrogant despot, her new husband was actually a kind and decent human being. But he still hadn’t chosen to marry her out of free will, and probably never would have if his friend’s unintentionally hurtful words were true.

  ‘Having a good time?’

  About to tell Zach she’d prefer to muck out the camel enclosure in her village, she turned her head to find him watching her with an expression on his face that melted her from the inside out. And suddenly she was determined that, yes, she would have a good time in this life he seemed to enjoy so much. ‘Yes!’ she said, turning her face up to his.

  ‘I’m glad.’ He leaned over and kissed her softly before drawing back with his arm slung around her waist. His possessive touch was comforting but, try as she might, she couldn’t set aside the feeling of vulnerability that gripped her, surrounded as she was by so many glamorous people, especially those whispering behind their hands as they looked at her. Were they wondering what Zach was doing with her? Or did they all know that he had been forced to marry her? That given a choice he would have preferred any one of the beautiful women parading around on the yacht in their sexy triangles of material. Would Zach ever expect her to wear one of those, in public? If so, he was going to be incredibly disappointed, because that just wasn’t her.

  ‘Zach.’

  Someone—a woman—said his name in a low, throaty murmur and Farah turned to find a slender, elegant blonde looking up at him. She was tiny and delicate and so flawlessly beautiful she was hard to look away from.

  Used to having women come up to him by now, Farah at first didn’t pay her any special attention, but then she realised that Zach had grown tense.

  ‘I heard you got married,’ the woman said, casting Farah a brief glance.

  ‘Yes.’ Something in his tone made the hairs on the nape of Farah’s neck stand on end. ‘Amy, I’d like you to meet my wife, Farah.’ His fingers flexed on her hip. ‘Farah, this is Amy Anderson.’

  Farah had wondered more than once who the woman was that Zach had nearly married and suddenly she knew she was standing right in front of her. It was obvious in every casually awkward line of the woman’s body and the answering tension in her husband’s.

  The woman had a peaches-and-cream complexion Farah would never achieve even if she stayed out of the sun for a decade, and the way she was looking at Zach made it very clear that, if she could, she would trade places with Farah in a heartbeat. Feeling about as attractive as a desert shrub in a French garden, Farah smiled. ‘I’m pleased to meet you.’

  ‘And you,’ Amy said with a warmth Farah wasn’t sure reached her eyes.

  ‘How long ago did you break up?’ she asked a little dully as the beautiful Amy finally wandered off into the crowd.

  Zach grimaced faintly. ‘Was it that obvious?’

  Farah felt old beyond her years. ‘A woman knows these things.’ Not that she ever would have thought she would.

  ‘Five years ago.’

  Five years ago? Farah frowned. Was that because he’d had to return to Bakaan? Had she inadvertently broken up his relationship when she had tried to implement change with her little magazine? It seemed impossible.

  She wanted to ask if he had been in love with her but she knew that he must have been if he’d nearly married her. Did he still? The sick feeling she had experienced on her wedding day thinking about the exact same thing balled in her stomach, but there was no way she would ask him because she really didn’t want to know the answer. In fact, she didn’t want to think about the answer.

  As if reading her every thought, he took her chin gently between his fingers to bring her eyes to his. ‘If you’re worried that I’ll cheat on you, Farah, I won’t. I’m not like that. Amy is in my past.’

  Deep down she knew that he was telling the truth but it didn’t change the fact that he had once wanted to marry Amy and he had never wanted to marry her—and why was she so fixated on that all of a sudden?

  ‘I’m not worried, I—’

  ‘Prince Zachim.’ A large man in a cream suit that stretched across his ample belly and a matching Stetson stopped beside them, an overconfident smile on his face. ‘Not interruptin’, am I?’

  ‘I’ve never known you not to interrupt, Hopkins,’ Zach said mildly, making the man laugh.

  ‘Always did enjoy your sense of humour, Your Highness. This is Cherry, my wife. And you must be Zach’s new wife.’

  ‘Farah,’ Zach supplied grudgingly.

  ‘Good to meet you, ma’am.’ The man took her hand in that deferential manner men did when they were putting women in their place before dismissing her in favour of Zach. ‘I was hoping to talk to you about building hotels over in that country of yours, Your Highness, and there’s no time like the present.’

  ‘Actually, there is. And now isn’t it.’

  ‘Oh, come now, we fly back to Dallas tomorrow. Cherry will take care of your little lady for a spell, won’t you, sugar?’

  ‘Of course!’ the vivacious redhead exclaimed. ‘I’d be glad to.’

  ‘Some other time, Hopkins. Farah and I were just leaving.’

  ‘It’s okay, Zach.’ Farah put her hand on his arm, knowing from an earlier conversation they’d had how important new investments were to Bakaan and not wanting to be the reason he missed an opportunity, even if the man was a bit of windbag. ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘See? She’ll be fine.’ The man gave her an oily smile. ‘You got to let ’em either sink or swim, don’t you, sugar?’

  The look on Zach’s face told her he wanted to m
ake this man sink or swim and it gave her the urge to giggle. Instead she moved away from him and murmured a greeting to the man’s nubile wife who was spilling out of a red polka-dot bikini top above white jeans that looked tighter than her own.

  Within minutes Farah found herself amidst a small knot of Cherry’s chic friends, including the beautiful Amy, who all wanted the gossip on how she had landed the prince—gossip Farah had no intention of giving them because it would only show them how little she really meant to her husband!

  ‘At least tell us if he’s as hot in the sack as they say he is,’ one of the women whispered.

  ‘Tia! You can’t ask that,’ another woman admonished.

  ‘Oh, don’t pretend you’re not dying to know, Pansy, you tried to get him yourself once without any success. I heard he was into threesomes, as well. Is that true?’

  Threesomes? No way was Farah naively going to ask what that was.

  ‘Tia, you’re so naughty!’ Pansy giggled and took Farah’s arm. ‘Please ignore our friend. She’s had too much champagne and she’s had some seriously bad dates.’ She glanced down at Farah’s empty hands. ‘Oh, Lordy, you don’t have a drink. Waiter, champagne, por favor!’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Farah quickly assured her. ‘I was sick the last time I had champagne.’

  ‘So?’ Tia asked.

  ‘Oh, you’re adorable,’ Pansy interjected as if Farah was a puppy she’d just won in a competition. ‘Isn’t she adorable?’

  Amy cast her a cool smile and sipped her own champagne as if she had no trouble with the drink at all. ‘How long have you and Zach known each other?’

  Farah felt the woman’s interest like the pointed end of a sword to her solar plexus. ‘Not that long.’

  ‘Was it a whirlwind courtship?’ Cherry asked, sipping a red drink with a paper umbrella sticking out of the top.

  Farah thought about her father ordering Zach to marry her. ‘I guess you could call it that.’

  ‘You must have something special going on under the hood,’ Tia drawled knowingly. ‘To keep the attention of man like that.’