In the Sheikh's Service

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In the Sheikh's Service Page 11

by Susan Stephens


  He’d been for a swim, and though she knew she should look away, he was built like a titan, and it was hard—no, impossible—to do the right thing. She couldn’t even control her breathing, which was coming hard and fast. She crept closer, taking advantage of his unconscious state. Shazim was as magnificent asleep as he was commanding when he was awake. She was glad he was sleeping on his front, though even his back view was a breath-stealing delight. Now she wondered how they’d both fitted on the bed. With his limbs sprawled, Shazim took up most of it...

  That was why she had been curled into a tiny ball.

  Yes. But a tiny ball in his arms!

  ‘Are you coming back to bed?’ Shazim murmured with his face still turned into the pillows. ‘Or, are you going to stand there thinking about it for the rest of the day?’

  Was he talking in his sleep? He had to be, surely?

  She stared at his back, at the width of his shoulders, and at the tightness of his buttocks, and his hard-muscled thighs, all perfectly displayed for her pleasure. He was quiet again now, breathing easily, his entire glorious, bronzed body hers to admire.

  The only excuse she could think of, as she remained perfectly still at the side of the bed, for how she’d ended up in his arms, was that when Shazim had returned from his swim he must have collapsed exhausted on the bed. He had probably taken hold of her while he was sleeping, perhaps mistaking her for someone else—

  Her heart lurched and sank as she thought about it.

  And what he’d said just now?

  He’d said in his sleep, she reasoned. Face facts. Shazim could have any woman he wanted. She had probably been having one of her heated dreams, sighing and moaning, so that taking hold of her was nothing more than a reflex action on his part. She could only hope she hadn’t been talking in her sleep. Panic struck her now, at the thought of what she might have said—done—to encourage Shazim to mistake her for that someone else. She had to be grateful that the goat bells had woken her, Isla concluded.

  So what now? She could hardly get back into bed. She was tempted to go for a swim. It would be the fastest way for her to wake up and clean the sand and grit off her body—and maybe the icy water would knock some sense into her head. With a rushed explanation to Shazim, who might be sleeping, that she was going for a swim, she made her escape outside.

  She walked down to the banks of the oasis. There was no one to be seen, but she didn’t need to strip off completely, as a thong and lightweight cotton top were fine for swimming. One last glance around, and she let herself down gently, gasping at the change in temperature. She had no fear of swimming alone. She was a strong swimmer, and she would take it steadily as she aimed for the opposite bank. Dipping her head beneath the water, she streamlined her body, and, using a strong, even stroke, she set off. A swim would ease her aching muscles, if nothing else.

  It didn’t seem to be helping anything else, like cooling her senses, she accepted as her thoughts flew back to the mystery of her night with Shazim.

  He hadn’t touched her.

  She huffed a laugh at that—As if!—almost choking herself in the process.

  No. Shazim hadn’t touched her, and, truthfully, she wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or relieved.

  Relieved! Of course she was relieved. If he’d made a move she would have run a mile. She had experienced the usual teenage fumbling, but that one terrifying episode at her mother’s funeral had finished her where sex was concerned. The man, who had assured her he was a good friend of her mother’s, had tried to rape her, and had almost succeeded. She had fought him off, but it was a horror she would never forget.

  The abuse he’d heaped on her afterwards had stayed with her ever since: she was unattractive and useless, anyway. No man would ever want her. He’d only been doing her a favour. After losing her mother, she had been at her lowest ebb, and the man’s comments had left her devastated and defeated. The only type of sex she had indulged in since was in her head, where she was always in control. Shazim didn’t need to know this. He would never know.

  She raised her head mid-stroke to look around to check she was still alone. She had swum further away from the pavilion than she had intended, and it was time to go back and think about work. Stepping out of the water, she yielded to one last temptation. Closing her eyes, she turned her face to the sun and, stretching out her arms, she allowed the strengthening rays to dry her.

  * * *

  He watched Isla swimming and admired her strength—in the water and out of it. She was still battling her demons as he was, he suspected, though right now, standing in supplication to the sun on the bank, she looked as free as he’d ever seen her. He didn’t want to change that, because it told him that Isla would reach her goal. At one time he might have seen her as a tender green shoot, but on closer acquaintance...she’d been a revelation to him during the storm. Brave and quick thinking, Isla had been as appealing to him in work mode as she had been at the celebration in the village, when she’d had all the appearance of an ethereal butterfly. Once again, she had proved to be so much more than that. At the campfire, she had achieved with smiles and gestures a connection with his people that had won her many friends. During the storm her bravery and resilience had won her the respect of his rangers. And in the early hours of this morning, stretched out on his bed, she had tempted him beyond reason.

  And now?

  For the next couple of days he would have her to himself. There was no hurry. Delay was arousing.

  ‘Shazim!’

  ‘I’m sorry if I startled you.’

  ‘You didn’t,’ Isla insisted as she wrapped her arms around her chest. Her top was wet and plastered to her breasts. She’d had the presence of mind to remove her bra before falling asleep last night.

  ‘Last night,’ she began, as if picking up on at least some of his thoughts.

  ‘You’re not needed this morning,’ he cut in.

  ‘Not needed?’ She frowned. ‘Did I do something wrong?’

  ‘On the contrary. The rangers agree with me that you should take a rest today after working through the night.’

  ‘But that’s not what I’m here for,’ she argued. ‘If there’s a problem, we stand together.’

  ‘There is no problem today, and the rangers are content to stand alone.’

  The rangers were hardly going to disagree with their Sheikh, she thought.

  ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be working,’ Shazim assured her, seeing her doubt. ‘I’m going to take you deeper into the desert, to a watering hole where you can witness the progress of the conservation programme first hand.’

  ‘Will we stay overnight?’

  ‘Is that your first question?’

  ‘There are more.’

  ‘Well, to answer the first one, the length of our stay will depend on what we find when we get there.’

  ‘I’ll be prepared,’ she said.

  ‘I’m counting on it.’ He wisely curbed a smile.

  If this was work she couldn’t refuse, Isla reasoned as she walked swiftly back to the pavilion to prepare to leave, her main concern was this: Was Shazim trialling her for a job he had in mind, or something else? And what could she do about it, either way?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ISLA STAYING ON in Q’Aqabi was now a definite in his mind, rather than a possibility, but how would she feel when he took a bride? How would he feel? The villagers might have taken to Isla on sight, but the country was agitating for him to get married. When he did that, his bride would be chosen from a similar background, and would understand that any marriage he contracted would be a transaction to the benefit of both parties. He wasn’t free to indulge in the idea of romance. It simply didn’t exist in his world. His duty was to his country, and to his late brother, and that called for nothing less than single-minded dedication to the cause.

  ‘I really need to stay here at the clinic quite a lot longer,’ Isla said, frowning.

  ‘You’re having doubts now?’ he queried sharply. ‘I tho
ught you were looking forward to visiting the interior with me?’

  She hummed uncertainly. ‘I’m only just beginning to realise the scope of the job here, and I need time to establish myself at the clinic.’

  His male pride was piqued. Isla’s eyes were wary and she couldn’t hold his stare, suggesting there was a lot more than the clinic on her mind. His best guess was she didn’t trust herself to go deeper into the wilderness with him.

  ‘The clinic isn’t going anywhere. It will still be here when you get back.’

  Her jaw firmed as if she had come to a decision. His mind was made up, and he was impatient now, both to leave, and to have Isla with him. His hunger for her was growing like a sharp, nagging edge. She would come with him. There was no more to be said on the matter.

  * * *

  Shazim had made it impossible for her to refuse to take the trip, but she was going to make a few of her own rules before they set off. For a start, she was going to ride her own horse. She wouldn’t risk any more of that pressing up close against him. This was a research trip, not a romantic outing.

  Riding her own horse was perhaps an exaggeration. The animal the rangers brought up for her was more of a plodding mule. But it was kind, and its ears were velvety beneath her fingertips. It was just an old horse, slow and steady. They’d get on fine, she told herself confidently, as Shazim rode up on his fire-breathing monster.

  ‘I see you’ve already mounted up,’ he said with the suggestion of an amused smile.

  ‘And I see that you are resigned to riding alone without my assistance,’ she countered as she gathered up the reins.

  ‘Like this,’ he said, leaning over.

  He was just gorgeous, and his hands on hers were a seductive delight, but she pretended not to notice as Shazim laced the reins through her fingers.

  He was a great guide too, and took trouble to point out all the things she wouldn’t have noticed without him as they rode along: ibexes concealed in the shadow of a dune, and animal tracks, and then, most thrillingly, a pair of desert eagles soaring high above their heads. But it was when they rounded the base of a particularly mountainous dune that she got the biggest surprise of all.

  ‘My observation post,’ Shazim explained with the flash of a grin and a casual shrug.

  She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, for there, sitting on the bank of the most beautiful and tranquil watering hole, was the billowing Bedouin tent of her fantasies.

  ‘Is this what you pictured when you set out for Q’Aqabi?’ he demanded, turning in the saddle to take a look at her.

  ‘Pretty much,’ she admitted, feeling her cheeks fire red.

  ‘My people will have set up refreshments for us, but I suggest a swim first to cool off.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ she agreed. What was she worried about? Shazim hadn’t even mentioned sleeping with her last night. He’d been all business since they left the village.

  Didn’t that make her feel just the tiniest bit disappointed?

  No. It did not. This trip was to inform her about the project and nothing more. Shazim’s people had been out here ahead of them to set up the equipment they would require for...well, for whatever they were here for.

  She soon forgot her concerns when Shazim led the way into the icy water. Her much smaller mount followed his, and soon they were swimming, their horses lunging forward. She was getting the hang of this—

  Or, she thought she was, until the force of the water lifted her clean out of the saddle.

  Shazim’s hand instantly found her thigh and he pushed her deep into the rolling motion of the saddle. She gasped as her body accepted the contact—of him, and of the horse’s thrusting gait. Sensations collided: the cold of the water and the heat of his hand, and he didn’t take his hand away, leaving his fingertips within millimetres of her core.

  ‘Better now?’ he asked.

  Was that amusement in his voice? Rather than answer him, she decided to concentrate on staying on the horse.

  * * *

  ‘That was great,’ she admitted as their horses found solid ground and clambered out. The magic of the desert must be getting to her, she concluded.

  Once they were safely on dry land, she dismounted cautiously, determined not to make the same mistake again. She was becoming more confident on a horse. She would need to be, to get about in the desert. Taking the reins over her horse’s head, she tethered him where Shazim had left his stallion.

  ‘Isla...’ She turned at Shazim’s call. And then had to try to appear as if seeing the most beautiful man stark naked was all in a day’s work for her.

  What had she expected—that he would pull out a pair of designer swimming shorts from his saddlebag?

  This was the desert. Life was in the raw. She had known what to expect when she came out here. Didn’t she pride herself on being practical and down to earth?

  Yes. But she hadn’t expected to be confronted by the sight of Shazim diving butt naked into the watering hole.

  ‘Do I have to come there and get you?’ he shouted to her from the water.

  Please no!

  But. There was only one way to handle this. Planting her hands on her hips, she gave him a look, and then, slowly and deliberately, she peeled off her clothes.

  He had turned away by this time, but he heard Isla entering the water. He badly needed an outlet for his energy, and had powered away to the opposite bank. He turned to see Isla swimming strongly towards him.

  She remained a safe distance away, treading water. ‘Race?’ she suggested, her face innocent and beautiful.

  ‘I’ll give you a head start,’ he offered.

  ‘Do you really think I need one?’ she queried, lifting a brow.

  ‘I know you do.’

  It was only when she turned away and started swimming that he realised she was as naked as he was. And there had been a definite blaze of challenge in her eyes. Now he knew why. With a laugh he powered after her. Isla Sinclair was determined to beat him at his own game. It remained to be seen if she could.

  He followed at a lazy pace, knowing how badly she wanted to win. She still felt she had something to prove to him, but she was wrong. Isla had nothing to prove to him.

  She stopped swimming in the shallows, trying to decide what to do next. Maybe she wasn’t as brazen as she thought she was.

  When he reached her, she whipped her arm across the surface of the water, sending a blinding spray into his face.

  ‘Two can play at that game, Ms Sinclair—’

  ‘I certainly hope so,’ she yelled back at him.

  She was frightened by what she’d started with Shazim; excited and aroused. There was no mistaking her feelings now. Whatever fear there had been had been replaced by a far more primal need, and it was inevitable that what had started out as fun turned serious. They tangled in the water, and Shazim wrapped his arms around her. She could feel every impressive inch of him against her. There was a moment when they stilled and looked at each other...

  Isla’s eyes had darkened in a way he couldn’t mistake. He had an instant to decide if he needed this sort of complication in his life.

  ‘Who knew?’ she said, pushing him away. ‘You can be fun.’

  ‘You have no idea,’ he murmured.

  Letting her go, he lifted his hands, palms up flat, to signal once and for all that this was over. But then she did the last thing he’d been expecting. Still laughing, she threw herself back into his arms, and, lunging forward, she planted a clumsy kiss on his lips.

  ‘Don’t,’ he warned, slowly wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.’

  ‘Maybe I do,’ she argued stubbornly, holding his gaze as they stood facing each other in the shallows.

  They looked at each other, daggers drawn for a moment, and then he swung her into his arms and strode with her to the tent.

  * * *

  Shazim didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. She knew what she was doing. Even
knowing what she had here and now with Shazim was only temporary, she had made the first move, and she was quite prepared to see it through.

  What exactly did she have with Shazim?

  If anyone was going to help her to shake her fear of sex—

  She had fallen for him.

  Maybe.

  Definitely. Was she prepared to pay such a heavy price for what could only be a few hours of pleasure?

  She had never been a coward.

  She’d never been a fool, either.

  Her inner critic’s plain talk was wasted. All she wanted was Shazim. For however long it lasted, everything had been leading up to this moment. The desert had awoken something primal in her, and that had freed her as he’d said it would.

  Once they were inside the pavilion, Shazim took her face in his hands in a touch so gentle it was almost reverent. He made her feel safe, valued. But then something changed in his gaze that made a prescient shiver trickle down her spine. He was probably thinking the same thing she was: that this was just a moment in time, and that it couldn’t last. But while it did...

  Linking their fingers, he very slowly drew her close. She breathed deep on his familiar scent with its overtones of sandalwood. She loved his touch. She loved being this close to him. She loved the way her skin tingled with awareness.

  When Shazim brushed his mouth against hers, she softened against him. When he deepened the kiss, she clung hungrily to him. He might be a king, and powerful beyond imagining, but in this they were equals.

  ‘I’m glad that fate has brought you here,’ he said, removing the last of her doubts.

  Pressing her body against his, she was suddenly ravenous for more contact, the ultimate contact. This was her man, her mate. As their tongues tangled and her breathing quickened, her fate was sealed. Shazim was air for her lungs, and food for her soul, and his kisses were a seduction she couldn’t resist. Her body ached for him to be deep inside her. He was the missing part of her, and the cure for her deep-seated fears. She answered Shazim’s fierce passion with hungry sounds of need, until with a growl he let her go. And when she sank down on the bed, he hooked his thumb into the back of his robe and dragged it over his head. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, naked and magnificent, like a statue cast in bronze. Tossing the robe aside, he threw the covers back and joined her on the bed. He was such a daunting sight. He was so huge, so beautiful—

 

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