In the Sheikh's Service

by Susan Stephens

  And was entirely built to scale—

  Those old memories made her want to run away...this was too much...

  ‘Isla?’

  Crouched on all fours, she was starting to back her way off the bed. Shazim drew her back to him. ‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s not the way. You don’t run from anything, Isla, least of all me.’ And while she was still hesitating, and still unsure, he embraced her again, bringing her close so he could soothe her with unthreatening kisses until she calmed down.

  He had been right all along about Isla, but she was far more damaged than he knew. He held her for a long time until her eyes started to close, and then he settled her back on the pillows and stood up.

  ‘No,’ she exclaimed groggily, her confidence returning. As he threw on his robe she reached for his hand. ‘You’re right. I don’t run from anything.’

  He backed away. This was torture for him, but it was torture he would gladly bear for her sake. He might want Isla with a madness that threatened his usual control, but her need was far greater than his, and he would not take advantage of her fears. She was clearly not ready for this. Not ready for him. She was inviolable until she was strong enough to share the cause of them.

  ‘I’m not leaving you,’ he explained, ‘but you must tell me who has hurt you. If you don’t let the poison out, it will destroy you.’

  It was a relief when she began haltingly to explain. He sat in a chair to listen a little way from the bed. He didn’t want to do or say anything to interrupt her. He needn’t have worried. It was as if she had lanced a wound, and all the foulness of the past poured out. It appeared that, on top of the tragedy of losing her mother, Isla had been further traumatised. He listened to her story in horror, and when she’d finished he went back to the bed and took her into his arms. ‘Not all men are like that, Isla. Give life a chance. Learn to trust again, or this will scar you for ever.’

  While Isla knew, deep in her heart, that his words spoke the truth, something defensive rose up in her.

  ‘Says the Sheikh with shadows in his eyes,’ she murmured.

  His whole expression changed in a moment. She saw the hurt and pain in his eyes and instantly regretted her words.

  Standing, he turned away. Dressing again, he slipped his feet into his sandals and left the tent.

  She didn’t call him back this time.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ISLA BRINGING UP the past had really thrown him, but work had always been his salvation. Thankfully, there was no shortage of work to do. They were still at the watering hole, where he was separating the pregnant ibexes from the rest of the herd, when Isla joined him. She acted as if nothing unusual had happened between them. That suited him. They’d get more done.

  They worked side by side until the sun went down, and they worked on by moonlight. When the moon finally went behind a cloud, he called it a day.

  ‘That’s it. We’ll start again tomorrow.’

  They walked back together to the tent, but he stopped when he reached the supplies he’d decanted from his saddlebags.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Isla asked him.

  ‘Preparing to sleep beneath the stars...’

  ‘There’s no need for that,’ she said awkwardly as he rolled out his sleeping mat.

  ‘I could sleep on the floor of the tent,’ he suggested tongue in cheek, ‘but I prefer to sleep out here.’

  ‘Then, so do I,’ she blurted out.

  ‘You?’ He stared at her in astonishment. Even though she’d opened her heart to him, after her last brush with intimacy he had imagined Isla would want to forget being close to him. ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You sleep under cover. You’re not used to sleeping rough.’

  ‘You’d be surprised what I’m used to—’

  He cursed beneath his breath as she disappeared inside the tent, and then stared at the sky and asked for patience when she returned loaded down with blankets and cushions.

  ‘Let me,’ she said, dumping them on the ground so she could dip down to help him clear some rocks away. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, glancing up.

  ‘What are you sorry for?’

  ‘For loading my troubles onto you—can we start again?’

  She took his silence for refusal. ‘Please?’

  She came right up to him, and looked so young and sexy. ‘Better not,’ he said.

  ‘But our working relationship’s still okay?’

  Her tone was anxious. ‘Nothing’s changed,’ he assured her. Bed made, he stood up.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay with that?’ she asked, flashing a dubious glance at his bedroll.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  Taking hold of her shoulders, he brought her in front of him. The fire he’d made to combat the chill of a desert night crackled on, while the moon beamed down benevolently. Everything was as it should be, but he still got the feeling that everything in his rigidly controlled life was about to change.

  ‘I think you’d rather be with me, in the tent,’ she whispered.

  ‘Have you learned nothing?’ he demanded, putting her away from him. Impatiently, he toed the cushions into place.

  As she reached for him it became clear that she had not. And this time he’d call her bluff.

  Catching hold of her hand, he bit her palm gently, and when she gasped out loud he drew one of her fingertips into his mouth.

  The air between them was electric as Shazim drew her deeper into his erotic net. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and shakily as he dipped his head to lightly brush her lips with his. His kiss was like a question: Did she want to carry on? Her answer was yes, most certainly. This time she reached up and laced her fingers through his hair to keep him close. Her senses were full of him. He intoxicated her. He tasted of all things good. He smelled of woodsmoke and sandalwood, and the delicate balance between her fear of physical love and the growing sense that she was safe with him reached tipping point. Realistically, she was in the greatest danger of her life. Shazim’s destiny called him to greater things than a girl by a campfire in the desert. But she had no intention of spending the rest of her life wondering what a night with Shazim would be like.

  When his big hands cupped her buttocks, that delicate balance between safety and danger tipped irrevocably.

  She groaned as he pressed her against him, and groaned again when she felt the thickness and weight of his erection. Her body seemed to mould around his of its own accord, and when he cupped her breasts over her fine cotton top she exhaled on a soft and shaking cry. She was glad, for once, that her breasts were so firm and big and full. She wanted him to like them. She was glad that her nipples were uptilted and tempting, and when he removed her top in one easy move and claimed the tight buds, laving first one and then the other with his tongue, she encouraged him to sink his face deep. Arching her back, she thrust her hips towards him to show how much she approved.

  ‘Not yet,’ Shazim murmured, slanting a wicked smile as he glanced up at her. ‘You must learn patience, habibti.’

  She had no patience, no self-control, and writhed against him, seeking more contact.

  ‘What do you need?’ Shazim murmured, baiting her with his smouldering heat.

  ‘I think you know,’ she whispered.

  ‘But you must tell me,’ he insisted. ‘Those are my rules.’

  ‘Your rules?’

  ‘Even now you are defiant?’

  He frowned, but she could tell that the thought amused him.

  ‘My rules, or nothing,’ he said as he reached for the fastening on her shorts.

  ‘Do you want to take a bet on that?’ she said softly as she pushed his hand away. Slowly and deliberately, she lowered the zipper herself.

  He loved Isla’s defiance almost as much as her self-determination. She was ready, and it had been worth the wait. He wanted nothing to stand between them, least of all the past, or her unreasonable fear. He took over, sliding her shorts over the swell of her hips...slowly. He was in no rush. He intended
to relish the sensation of his slightly roughened palms moving over her silky skin as he took her thong down.

  He couldn’t wait to tease and explore. He had to remind himself, quite forcefully, that delay was always the servant of pleasure.

  She gave a sharp intake of breath when he drew his robe over his head. That reaction was echoed by his own response as he stared down at her. The flames of the campfire had warmed Isla’s pale skin to blush peach, while he remained in shadow and darkness. The contrast between them was marked and she was half his size.

  ‘Shazim...’ She reached for him. ‘Touch me. Teach me—’

  Pausing only to protect them both, he silenced her with a kiss. ‘Not until you tell me what you want,’ he reminded her.

  ‘An end to this torture,’ she said, but, as she was still covering herself modestly with her arms, she was doing nothing to convince him to speed things up.

  ‘What torture?’ he demanded, continuing to tease her with long strokes down the length of her thighs.

  ‘My legs don’t ache,’ she said, frowning.

  ‘You’re getting used to riding,’ he observed with the faintest of smiles.

  He carried on stroking her as she sighed with pleasure, and then he moved his attentions to where she needed him, but he was never quite close enough.

  ‘Shazim,’ she begged him in a shaking voice.

  ‘Good?’ he murmured, teasing her some more.

  ‘Not good enough,’ she complained, and then she turned her face into the cushions, as if for once her boldness had gone too far, even for her.

  Easing her legs over his shoulders, he made her lie back on the cushions while he knelt in front of her.

  She was shocked, and exclaimed, ‘What are you— Oh,’ she gasped as he cupped her buttocks, holding her firmly in place. She was more aroused than even he had suspected.

  Was it possible to survive sensation like this? Isla doubted it, and sucked in a shuddering breath as she clung to the bedroll at her side. Shazim was so good at this, so intuitive. He knew exactly when to draw back, and when to give her just a little bit more. Having dispensed with what remained of her modesty, he was keeping her legs widely spread on the powerful sweep of his shoulders. And she was right on the edge.

  His tongue was slightly roughened and he knew just how much pressure to apply. The rhythm was irresistible, and she was just tensing to let go when he stopped.

  She exclaimed with disappointment as he lowered her legs and sat back. But then he nudged one hard-muscled thigh between her legs, easing them apart again. She felt so exposed and so aware as he stared down, and she was so very desperate for contact, but all he would give her was the tip of his erection. Drawing it back and forth very lightly, he made her crave release. She hadn’t even understood her own body when it came to her capacity to feel pleasure, but now she was hungry for more, and angled her body in an attempt to catch more of him.

  ‘I need you,’ she cried out in frustration.

  ‘You need this,’ he argued. ‘Say it,’ he commanded in a firmer tone.

  ‘I need all of you,’ she exclaimed, a slave to the hunger inside her. ‘And I need it now,’ she gasped, thrusting her hips up to meet him.

  ‘I decide when,’ Shazim murmured, taking the cry of disappointment from her mouth in a kiss. ‘Slowly,’ he warned when she fought hard to urge him on. ‘I won’t rush this, not even for you. I won’t hurt you, Isla.’

  And she believed him. Trusted him. Which was something she’d never thought she’d be able to do again. And then he touched her with his hand, and took her to yet another level of arousal.

  ‘Tell me,’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘Tell me what you need.’

  ‘I need you deep inside me,’ she said shakily. ‘I need you to take me deep. You’re so big, I want you to let me get used to you first,’ she pleaded on a suddenly dry throat, ‘but then, I want you to take me firmly, fast and hard—’

  Forced to break off, she wailed softly with excitement as Shazim caught inside her...and this time he didn’t pull back. She remained quite still, savouring the moment, and then she exhaled on a gust of pleasure as he sank a little deeper still. He repeated this several times, sometimes withdrawing completely before returning to give her a little more each time. She trusted him completely, knowing now that if she tensed, he would stop. It was a lesson in how to relax, and her reward was Shazim’s thick length deeply lodged inside her. When he rolled his hips she almost fell, but as always he knew how to keep her from the brink. He remained quite still, poised over her, braced on his forearms. He withdrew steadily until they were completely parted, and then, after a moment of fear that he might stop, he plunged deep. He moved hard and fast, driving into her with firm, regular strokes, shooting the air from her lungs and the fear from her heart, and with a cry of relief she threw herself into pleasure. When she quieted, he reduced the pace to a gentle and insistent buffeting, until she discovered that, far from her pleasure ending, it was just building again.

  ‘Hold your legs wide for me,’ Shazim instructed, staring down to where her enjoyment was all too obvious to him. ‘And don’t move. Your role is to lie still and be pleasured.’

  His promise excited her, and she pressed her thighs apart.

  ‘Relax,’ he warned when she began to tense as her climax approached. ‘If you don’t relax, I’ll stop. Now, concentrate your mind on that one place, and no other. Good,’ he approved as she stilled.

  Turning her onto her hands and knees, he moved behind her. His hands on her buttocks were firm and controlling as her hunger raged on. Anticipation of pleasure had made her insatiable, and when he took her and touched her, she couldn’t hold on.

  ‘Greedy,’ he said approvingly as she rammed backwards onto him.

  She worked her hips frantically to be sure of the last pulse of pleasure. Shazim barely gave her the chance to draw a breath this time before throwing her onto her back and taking her again, firmly and fast.

  There was no world outside this, no existence possible outside the two of them, and there was no man for her ever, but Shazim.

  He relished Isla’s mewls of pleasure, and her final ecstatic cries. Even now she wasn’t sated and reached for him. She was a revelation to him. Her appetite matched his. No sooner had she crested one wave than she eagerly sought out the next.

  ‘But what about you?’ she asked him finally.

  ‘Me?’ He laughed softly against her mouth as he dragged her close for a kiss. ‘Don’t you think I’m enjoying this?’

  ‘I know you are,’ she said, reaching down. He shuddered with pleasure as her small hand closed possessively around him.

  ‘Then,’ he instructed, ‘you must mount me.’

  ‘Must I?’ She gave him a look. ‘Do I need another riding lesson?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘Then, I’m glad to obey, Your Majesty,’ she said with a witchy smile. Rolling away, she changed position, and, arranging herself on top of him, she spread her legs wide. Throwing her head back, she groaned with pleasure as he guided her slowly down.

  ‘You are a witch,’ he remarked as she grew in confidence.

  ‘And you’re the best stallion I ever rode.’

  She laughed, and he laughed with her as she attempted to pin him down.

  Coming to Q’Aqabi, to do the job she loved, had altered Isla in one small, but fundamental way. She didn’t just know what she wanted now, she knew how to get it. How he would ever let her go, he had no idea.

  ‘Better?’ he asked when she was calm enough to speak.

  ‘Almost,’ she teased him with a look. ‘I feel there might be more.’

  ‘Much more,’ he confirmed, proving it.

  ‘You’re right,’ she agreed with a gasp of pleasure.

  Shazim made everything possible. She had never guessed she had such an exhaustive appetite. ‘I love it,’ she exclaimed in answer to his husky question.

  I love you, she thought as Shazim turned her so her back was facing hi
m.

  ‘So I can touch you while I take you,’ he explained.

  ‘Whatever you want to do is all right by me.’ She laughed softly, realising this was true. There was nothing Shazim could do that would frighten her, or that she wouldn’t enjoy—though enjoy was hardly the word for it. There had to be a new word invented for this amount of pleasure. ‘Oh, yes,’ she breathed when he pressed the flat of his hand into the small of her back, making her even more available to him. ‘It’s so good...and I can’t hold on—’

  ‘You’re not supposed to,’ he reminded her, continuing to move to the same dependable rhythm. ‘Just let go...’

  He loved watching her face when Isla lost control, but watching from this angle gave him another view on pleasure. Keeping her buttocks firmly angled with one hand, he worked her sensitive bud with the other. At the same time he thrust rhythmically and deep. But Isla had some ideas of her own, and he groaned as she closed her inner muscles tightly around him.

  ‘Let go,’ she urged him, angling her buttocks even more for him to see. ‘Let—’

  The rest of her words were lost in a roar of mutual release as they fell together.

  Pounding into her, he thought she might extract his life force before she’d finished with him. And when they did finally recover, they could do no more than collapse back on the bedroll and sleep.

  Some time during the night he woke and watched her sleeping beside him. She looked so peaceful, so young and carefree, and so happy that he smiled in response to the curve of her lips as she slept. He wondered what she was dreaming about to make her smile. Then the fire started guttering, and a cool breeze reminded him that the temperature would dip further still. Gathering her into his arms, he carried her to the tent and laid her down on the bed, and this time he made no pretence of sleeping on the floor. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her and drew the covers over both of them.