Beauty and the Sheikh(6)

Now she sat on the lovely, hand-carved settee in the middle of the room, lush and elegant, almost sensual in its curves and soft cushions. And even there, as she awaited the tea she’d ordered, it was hard not to think about the week she’d spent two years ago in Raljahar.

She’d been entrenched in a world where attractiveness and money were the mechanics. It was a world where she’d never really belonged but had endured for her and Andrew’s survival.

When she’d met Rafiq he’d been so different. So foreign and forbidden. Not that he wasn’t handsome, because he was breathtakingly so in such a raw, primitive way. He hadn’t been impressed by who she was or the people that surrounded her. And rather than be offended by his manner, she’d welcomed it as a breath of fresh air. She’d seen past his surliness immediately and coaxed out the gentleman who lingered beneath.

She’d immediately discarded the rumors of what a ruthless, intimidating tyrant he was. Had never believed them, really. She’d heard Rafiq hadn’t always been so intimidating. Up until he’d turned twenty-three, he’d had Adonis-like looks that could’ve placed him beside her in fashion magazines. His reputation had been a bit wild, his playboy lifestyle followed by all the tabloids.

Until an assassination attempt changed all of that, claiming his parents’ lives and leaving Rafiq scarred and heir to the Kingdom of Raljahar.

Before she’d met him she’d already had compassion in her heart for what he’d gone through, but she’d never expected to be so drawn to him, so overwhelmed and aware of him as a man.

Her heart squeezed painfully and she dug her fingers into the silk fabric of the settee. Everything surrounding her in this palace displayed the lavishness and power of the man who owned it.

Oh God, if she didn’t have to be here right now, she wouldn’t. But Andrew was counting on her, and she would see to his freedom. She simply had to. He couldn’t be guilty of what they said. Could he?

Andrew had changed; he’d promised. She swallowed the unease and doubt, drawing in a deep breath. She had to think positive. Rafiq was a fair man and if Andrew were innocent, he would release him. Even if Rafiq believed the worst about her, surely he wouldn’t still be bitter over the past, would he?

The churning of her stomach raised more doubts than she cared to admit.



“I trust you slept well, Holly.”

“Very well, thank you,” Holly lied through her teeth as she sat down the next morning in the chair Rafiq held out for her. She avoided looking at him, all too aware of the enticing scent of him, a hint of musk and some exotic spice. It stripped her already frayed nerves, having him so close to her.

“You look beautiful.” Rafiq sat down across from her at the elegantly carved table and unfolded his napkin in his lap. “The color of your blouse brings out your eyes.”

True to his word, her luggage had been delivered to the palace late last night and this morning she’d seen no reason to wear the burka anymore. Rafiq had already scoffed at her attempt at blending in, so she’d abandoned the garment for the one pair of jeans she’d packed, paired with a blue blouse.

She hadn’t checked the mirror before leaving her room, because mirrors seemed to be absent within the palace. The only one she’d seen had been the small one above the elegant sink in her bathroom. It was almost as if Rafiq had an aversion to them.

“Are we really going to resort to small talk?” Her fingers twisted her napkin.

Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Is there something else you’d prefer to discuss?”

“Will you just stop this?” she cried, losing any ability to stay civil. “You forced me to stay here at your palace last night under the pretense that you’d consider my brother’s case, but you never had any intention of letting him go. Did you?”

Rafiq leaned back in his chair, watching her through narrowed eyes.

Holly closed her eyes briefly, instantly regretting her outburst. Stupid! She’d made it this far, only to scream at him like a fishwife the moment they sat down for breakfast.

“Your brother is guilty.”

The world around her spun out of focus at his flat declaration. A clammy cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck and she forced herself to suck in a needed breath. Her hands shook at the image of her brother locked in a prison in this intimidating, foreign land for ten years. “You condemn him as judge and jury without a trial.”

“I have seen the footage. He was as discreet as a three-year-old stealing from a cookie jar.” Rafiq leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “And it’s not the first time he’s done this, is it, habiba? Your brother has also stolen money from you in the past, countless times.”

“He’s changed,” she whispered. How could Rafiq possibly have known about Andrew stealing from her? “He promised me.”

“I understand why you would like to think as much, but the evidence says otherwise.”

Bile rose in her throat. She believed him. She didn’t want to, but oh God, she did. “So you intend to lock him up? For how many years? He’s all I have, Rafiq.” She didn’t care that she’d dropped his respected title. What would he do? Call in his servants to scold her again? Throw her in prison next to her brother? Let them!

Tears blurred her vision as she plunged on. “He kept me from going into foster care after our parents were killed. He gave up everything and quit school to raise me. Please, you can’t throw away his life like this.”

“I would think twice before trying to place the blame on me.” His words snapped like a whip through the empty dining hall, his stare glacial. “You’ve protected him for too long, Holly. When will it end? He’s a grown man who lives the life of a spoiled boy.”

“You’ve known all along you wouldn’t help him.” She thrust back her chair and stood. “I don’t even know why I let myself think you would. You’d probably rather face a firing squad than assist me. I’ll go to the American embassy. I’ll—”

“No one would dare challenge my decision.”

Her heart pinched with helplessness and the despondency that flowed through her blood thickened until it consumed her. “Then why did you do this?” Tears burned. “Why toy with me and keep me here last night?”

“It’s simple, habiba. Because I want you.”

Holly’s heart slammed into her ribcage. He still wanted her? For a moment she didn’t believe it, refused to believe it. Until she stared long enough into Rafiq’s eyes to see the smoldering heat and desire.

It was so potent it sent a rush of warmth through her body and quickened her blood.

“What are you saying?”

Rafiq stood and approached her, or rather, stalked her like a lion with his prey. Holly just barely resisted the urge to turn heel and run, and then it was too late as he stood in front of her, blocking her exit.

Every harsh and beautiful feature on his face came into focus, especially the thick scar that began barely an inch away from his captivating dark eyes. “I will release your brother under one condition.”

She knew. Even before he could say it, she knew. Her head jerked from side to side in denial, but her gaze was riveted to his lips as named his price.

“You will agree to stay in Raljahar as my mistress.”

Her knees nearly gave out and she gripped the back of the chair, closing her eyes. She’d come so close to losing her heart once, it was ludicrous to consider putting herself at risk again. Especially after the way he’d ended things, the way he’d humiliated her.

How dare he think she could be bought? That she would essentially trade herself for her brother’s freedom? Never would she agree to such degrading terms.

Never, ever would she let him hurt her again.





Chapter 4



Rafiq waited for her response, so close to Holly he could see the way her mouth pinched with horror and her closed eyelids twitched. His heart gave a little kick at just how lovely she was. Yesterday she’d hidden her body within the burka, but today she wore her Americanized clothing and style defiantly. Did she realize the sight enticed him as if she waved a red flag in front of a bull?

Her blue jeans molded to the gentle swell of her hips and bottom, and the blouse hugged her breasts. Breasts which he could still remember the softness of in his hands—his mouth.

She’d always had fuller breasts than seemed usual for most models, but her beauty was classic. Striking. Breathtaking and innocent. She’d been a sexual bombshell merged into the American girl next door. Top designers had fought over her, because she was so refreshing from the traditional gaunt, almost skeletal women.

Holly’s eyes opened once more, but there was no shock or fear in them. Instead, anger and disgust flashed so potently it almost felt like red-hot pokers were thrust into him. “I would never agree to such terms.”

The reminder she found him repulsive wasn’t as painful this time; he’d already braced for it. Prepared for it.