by Mel Teshco
Didn’t she understand he’d been on the point of a full scale search for her? Had she no idea of the gut churning horror that had consumed him at the thought of never seeing her again?
How arrogant he’d been to assume it would be easy to make Sofia fall in love with him. She’d slipped beneath his defenses without him even realizing, and he was the one who’d fallen so utterly beneath her spell.
He pressed his forehead against the window and let out a jagged breath. Four days ago Sofia had informed him her father was no longer critical, and his health was improving daily. But she hadn’t said a word about returning home.
What would he do if she decided to end their marriage? Force her back to Zanzar and keep her under lock and key?
That wasn’t the marriage he wanted. But what they had wasn’t enough for Sofia. He might not recall everything he’d said on that day, but the words she’d flung at him were engraved on his heart.
“You pay lip service for wanting to bridge the gap between men and women, but when it affects you the first thing you do is drag out the chains. How does that look to your people, Tariq?”
It had taken him almost a week before he’d finally faced the bitter truth of her accusation. If he wanted her back, he had to show her how far he was willing to go to make their marriage work.
I hope she doesn’t make me beg.
***
Three days later Sofia arrived back in Zanzar. She’d half expected Tariq to meet her at the airport, but he wasn’t even at the fortress to greet her. What had she expected? That he’d be willing to meet her half-way, when he didn’t think there was anything wrong with their relationship?
She stifled a sigh as she trailed her fingers along the marital bed. Yesterday he’d invited her to the official opening of the first community school. The invite had been formal, but she’d foolishly taken it as his way of telling her he’d missed her and wanted her to come home.
Well, she was home. And Tariq wasn’t. But much as that stung, she wasn’t going to let it upset her. She needed to tell him she’d been wrong to go into the city without adequate protection. Would that be enough to show him she was trying to adapt to her new life?
That despite how her future career hung in the balance, she didn’t want to leave him?
***
The following morning, as she got into the limo that was taking her to the school, her nerves were shredded. Tariq hadn’t come to bed last night, she hadn’t seen him at breakfast and they weren’t even traveling together. He’d sent a message informing her he would meet her at the school.
I guess I have my answer. Her marriage was nothing but a shell and he didn’t care how empty their relationship was behind closed doors, so long as they presented a united front in public.
Can I live with that?
By the time they arrived at the school all she wanted to do was find a hole and climb into it. But the Zanzar government was here, the international press were present, and no matter how much her heart ached she’d never let anyone see how her hopes for a marriage based on equality had been so carelessly crushed.
This school was Tariq’s crowning achievement. She wouldn’t let him down.
The door opened, and as she slid from the car Tariq took her hand. For a second she froze. The last time he’d done this he’d been furious with her, but this time he gave her a smile that didn’t manage to disguise the fatigue evident on his face.
She stood beside him on the red carpet, and he didn’t release her hand. In fact he stood closer to her and his grip on her tightened as cameras from the press corp flashed. It took all of her willpower not to rest her head against his shoulder. How I’ve missed your touch.
He lowered his head until his lips grazed her cheek. “You look beautiful, Sofia. Thank you for coming.”
His voice was low and sexy and she wanted to weep for everything they would never have. But she would never disgrace their royal houses by such a public display. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
She breathed in deep and waited for him to release her. He didn’t. Instead he gave her hand an infinitesimal tug and adjusted his stride to hers as they walked the red carpet toward the gates of the school.
Lights flashed, blinding her, but all she could see was Tariq in any case. Walking by my side.
They entered the central courtyard, where two thrones graced the raised dais. Oh my God…
He waited until she sat before taking his own seat and the formal ceremony commenced, but the words washed over her. Because at this, the completion of the most important project Tariq had undertaken in his province and upon which the world would judge him, he’d treated her as his equal partner.
Finally Tariq stood, and his speech was magnificent. Pride burned in her heart as he advocated the importance of education and choice for all citizens, and when he turned to her she couldn’t have stopped her smile if her life depended on it.
“I’m fortunate that Her Royal Highness, my esteemed wife, is as passionate as I in these matters. Therefore it’s only fitting that she has the honor of formally opening the Sofia al Jazad Community School.”
He named the school after me? Stunned, she stared at him until he gave her a self-conscious smile and took her hand to pull her to her feet. She managed to compose herself for long enough to unveil the plaque, and from a million miles away she heard the rousing applause.
I’m not going to cry. She kept the smile on her face as dignitaries filed past, but finally Tariq once again took her hand and spirited her away into a deserted classroom, closing the door on their personal bodyguards.
She sucked in a reviving breath. “I don’t know what to say. I’m deeply honored you named the school for me.”
He shrugged, as though her thanks didn’t sit well. “You were right. If I want my people to embrace equality I have to lead by example.”
“Yes, of course.” She squashed the flare of despair at his words, because what had she expected? That he’d declare the reason he’d done it was because he loved and adored her, and couldn’t bear to live the rest of his life without her?
“I don’t want to chain you. I’ve spoken with my advisers and if you’re willing we’ll work out a program of study so you can complete your degree. It might take a little longer than usual, though.”
Speechless, she stared at him. He was allowing her to finish her education, without any negotiation or untenable compromise.
She cleared her throat. He was obviously waiting for her answer. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Because she had a fair idea of how bitterly some of his advisers would’ve fought against it.
He clasped his hands behind his back. She loved how noble and strong he looked in his royal robes and swallowed a sigh of regret. He was giving her the freedom she’d craved, but now she craved him just as much.
“When you traveled into the city, I feared the worst.” His tone was haughty, but she glimpsed the truth in his eyes and remorse stabbed through her. Before she could stop herself she stepped toward him and pressed her hand against his heart.
“I’m so sorry, Tariq. It was thoughtless of me. I didn’t mean to cause you any concern. If it means anything, I’d never do that again.”
His mask vanished and he pressed his palm over her hand, and the echo of his heartbeat reverberated through her blood.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if anything had happened to you.” There was a raw fear in his voice that tore at her heart. “Promise me you’ll always take care, Sofia. You’re too precious for me to lose.”
“I promise.” Her voice was husky. “I know I have responsibilities now. I won’t take them lightly again.”
His grip on her hand tightened, almost as if he expected her to pull back. “Good. You’re not just my wife. You’re the keeper of my heart.”
The tears she’d managed to keep locked inside for so long finally escaped. “Tariq…”
“No.” He sucked in a great breath, as though he was about to go to his own execution. “Let me fin
ish. You challenge me in ways I’d never imagined and I don’t want that to ever change. But there’s something I must ask you.”
She swallowed around the blockage in her throat. “You can ask me anything.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t look convinced. Still holding her hand, he sank to his knees and she gazed at him, dumbfounded that this proud desert prince should ever do such a thing. “Sofia, I love you. I can’t bear the thought of living without you. Will you marry me of your own free will because you want to, and not because you have to?”
Her brave warrior prince loved her. She kneeled before him and cradled his face with her hand. “Yes. I’ll marry you as many times as you wish. You’re the only man I want as my husband, Tariq. I love you with all my heart.”
His smile was like the sun emerging from behind storm clouds, and his lips brushed hers in a kiss that promised her heaven and beyond. “I’ll hold you to that promise, my beautiful princess. But right now I need to take you home and remind you how utterly devoted to your pleasure I am.”
Epilogue
Ten months later
Grand Vizier Ahmet Khan strode into the beautifully restored old fort of Nazaar, Qutum, and a satisfied sensation settled in his stomach at the scene in front of him. A servant announced him when he reached the informal lounge area where the young Sheikh Jamal El-Amin and his two brothers, Prince Zafar and Prince Tariq stood huddled together discussing something. Their wives, the Sheikha Lilly El-Amin and her two sisters-in-law, Sheikha Amber and Sheikha Sofia sat on large comfortable lounges. In front of them on the Ottoman, the elderly Lilliantha Jones gazed into a large pram. Fifty years had passed and still she affected him.
His heart beat faster as it always had when he saw the wild and exotic princess. Still beautiful with her strong facial features, but sadly blind. He'd never forgotten her.
He prepared to prostrate himself as he had always done, though privately - and he would never admit it - he wondered if he would be able to get off the floor given the state of his hips.
"Ahmie," called out Sheikha Lilly who hopped off the lounge and walked up to him, refusing to let him prostrate himself. "There's no need for formalities. Come and meet my grandmother, the 'wild' Lilliantha Jones."
"Ahmie?" Jamal raised his eyebrows at him. The two younger sheikhs Zafar and Tariq looked staggered.
"How does she do that? You know how formal he is?" Zafar said, and Ahmet smothered a smile. Ah, if only they knew how wild and reckless he’d been in his youth.
Jamal gave a soft smile as his gaze followed his wife. "Lilly strips away any reserve and gets straight to the heart."
Just like her grandmother. The Grand Vizier tried not to laugh at their bemused expressions as Lilly led him toward them first so he could pay his respects. Perhaps the younger sheikhs didn’t know that he and Lilly had spent months together when she was redesigning the fort on the island of Mahaba and he'd grown very fond of this young sheikha. Through her, he'd learned private snippets about the one woman he'd loved all his life and couldn't have—the wild Lilliantha Jones.
"Welcome, Grand Vizier," Jamal said formally. "Thank you for coming today.”
"It is indeed an honor to be the first outside the royal family to see the babies," he said, nodding to each of the sheikhs in turn.
"Lilly wants to thank you for your matchmaking skills. She thinks you're the best matchmaker she's ever met," Jamal said.
“He's probably the only matchmaker she's ever met," Zafar said, glancing at Tariq.
The Grand Vizier followed Lilly over to the lounge area and nodded to Zafar's wife, Amber Al-Fayed. She’d also been blessed, and her attention moved away from him as she smiled indulgently down at the sleeping baby girl in her arms. The Grand Vizier hid a smile. He’d bet Prince Zafar would be just as smitten by his curly, dark-haired daughter as he was by his wife.
He bowed to Sheikh Tariq and Sheikha Sofia. Alas, the sheikha had not yet produced the desired heir but, as he had hoped when he’d researched her suitability for the young sheikh’s bride, Prince Tariq no longer had that haunted look in his eyes that had so grieved the prince’s beloved father and himself.
“Grand Vizier.” The prince even smiled at him, an unheard of occurrence before his marriage. “It’s greatly overdue but my wife and I would also like to thank you for your,” he hesitated for a moment and took his sheikha’s hand, the glance he bestowed upon her filled with love, “matchmaking skills.”
“Your Highness, it’s my pleasure to see you and the sheikha are so well suited and happy together. That is all the thanks I need.”
An unspoken message passed between the sheikh and his wife, before she gave a brief nod. The prince glanced at his brothers. “Sofia and I are delighted to share with our family— and close friend—” his gaze returned to Ahmet. “That we’re expecting a baby in seven months.”
Congratulations and good natured teasing filled the room and Ahmet permitted himself another smile. His plans were all coming to fruition. Qutum would continue to prosper and flourish.
"Ahmie did such a good job," Lilly said, when there was a lull in the conversation. "Come and see the babies. I can't believe I had twins."
"Who is this, Lilly?" her grandmother asked, turning toward the noise.
The Grand Vizier took the hand of Lilliantha Jones. "It is I, Ahmet Khan, Your Highness. Welcome back to Qutum." He bent and kissed her hand, aware that everyone watched his unusual greeting.
Lilliantha Jones didn't let his hand go. Instead she gripped it tightly. "I never managed to thank you for all you did for me, for helping me escape to England."
"This is news." Zafar sounded shocked.
"Did you know this?" Tariq asked Jamal.
Jamal shrugged. "I always wondered how Lilliantha Jones managed to get out of Qutum. She had to have an insider to help her."
"The wily, old bastard," Tariq said, awe in his voice. "I’d never have thought he’d do something like that."
"Or how he felt about her," Zafar said, brows raised.
The Grand Vizier ignored their comments to concentrate on his beloved sheikha. For fifty years he’d kept silent, for the sake of Qutum, but it was time for the truth to be heard. "Not everyone thought you should marry that tyrant Zimbian Sheikh. Better to have an English husband who would look after you and treat you as an equal."
The sheikha smiled and nodded. "You always understood me, Ahmet, from the time we were children. You were the only man I could trust."
The Grand Vizier nodded, aware that the room had gone silent. He looked into the pram at the twin babies. Perfect healthy sons. "Trust well spent. You have done well, Lilliantha Jones." He nodded first to his sheikha and then to the twins’ young mother.
"You two knew each other?" Lilly said. "Granny, you never told me."
"My memory is failing me child."
Ahmet didn't believe a word of it. Although he'd lost the love of his life the night he'd helped the sheikha escape, her strong genes remained in the family.
Young Lilly Jones was right. He was a good matchmaker. He'd sacrificed his heart and had worked all his life to keep Qutum strong, but he could retire now.
He nodded to the young sheikh brothers who stood close. All solid men, happy with their wives, who would keep the kingdom safe for the generations to follow.
****
Thank you for reading The Sheikh’s Reluctant Princess. I hope you enjoyed it!
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Have you read the Grayson Brothers, my sexy contemporary romances? Meet Jackson, Cooper and Alex. Every good girl loves a very bad boy...
I have some more very bad boys in my Viking Bastards MC erotic romance series! I know exactly what you want, princess…
Cathleen, Mel and I have two other boxed sets with irresistibly sexy heroes and sassy virginal heroines.
Taken by the Sheikh ~ Three desert sheikhs. Three captive brides…
Taken by the Billionaire ~ He’s her stepbrother, and her every wicked fantasy…
About the Author
Christina Phillips is an ex-pat Brit who now lives in sunny Western Australia with her high school sweetheart and their family. She enjoys writing paranormal, historical and contemporary romance where the stories sizzle and the heroine brings her hero to his knees.
She is addicted to good coffee, expensive chocolate and bad boy heroes. She is also owned by three gorgeous cats who are convinced the universe revolves around their needs. They are not wrong.
Sample chapter from Taken by the Sheikh
The Sheikh’s Mistaken Bride
Chapter One
Sanura Jones looked up from her canvas as her best friend May flung open the door to her small attic studio and stood clasping a scrunched up sheet of paper to her chest.
Sanura dropped her brush into the jar of water and wiped her hands on her paint-splattered coverall. Unease coiled through her at May’s unnaturally pale face. “What’s the matter?”
With a trembling hand, her friend handed her the letter. It was a rich, creamy parchment and disbelief crawled along Sanura’s spine as she stared at the elaborate crest emblazoned across the top.
She didn’t need to read it. She knew what this letter was about. May’s worst nightmare had come true, and the man she had been betrothed to since birth was coming to claim her.
“I can’t stay here.” May paced the floor. “I have to get away. Will you help me?”
Sanura gripped May’s hand and pulled her around. “May, calm down. It’s the twenty-first century. Nobody can make you marry anyone you don’t want to. This is England. They have laws here to prevent that kind of thing.”