Beauty and the Sheikh(9)

He slid his hands down to cup her hips through the denim. The thought of her long legs wrapped around his waist as he plunged into her had him hardening almost impossibly.

The pressure and discomfort brought him back to reality. Grounded him when he’d come so close to letting himself go. If he didn’t stop now, then he would take Holly, perhaps even here on the dining table.

She wouldn’t stop him, and he was the Sheikh. He could have anything and anyone he wanted. But he refused to lose control any more than he already had.

How was it possible she addled his brain so? No woman should have that kind of power. She was far too skilled a seductress.

Rafiq slowed the kiss, giving himself time to regain complete control before lifting his head. Holly’s eyes remained closed and she cried out in protest, then her lips pressed together and she made a noise of disbelief. She was probably angry with herself and her reaction.

“I have work to do, habiba,” he murmured, touching his thumb against her swollen bottom lip. “You have freedom to explore my palace, but do not leave without the chaperone of one of my guards.”

Her lashes fluttered up, but there was no desire or disorientation in her eyes. It seemed she’d taken the time to gather her emotions as well. “So I’m to be watched over like a child then?”

His lips tightened as darker thoughts flitted through his head. “My country is quite different than America. There are always threats against me and those who are close to me. And despite the luxuries of the city, the land itself can be dangerous for those more vulnerable and unfamiliar with it.”

“So women are to be locked inside? Submissive to their men and hidden away?”

“Is that what you think?” He arched a brow. “Where did you find such an ignorant stereotype?”

“I have no idea what to think of Raljahar.” She lifted her chin to meet his gaze, her eyes flashing with frustration. “My assumptions are mostly based upon the man who rules it.”

He smoothed his thumb over her mouth once more, enjoying the way it trembled beneath his touch. “Well, habiba, you will have three months to get to know me and my country quite intimately.”

“I’m fine getting to know your country, but I think I’ll pass on getting to know any part of you intimately. Until I leave, I’ll be marking off the days on the calendar like a kid counting down to Christmas.”

He didn’t doubt it for a moment, but her comments had gotten under his skin, and despite his earlier decision he wanted to clear up one misunderstanding. “One more thing, Holly. I have no harem. So when you’re in my bed, you’ll find my appetite quite virile.” He released her once more and turned to walk away. “I shall return for supper.”



“I would like to explore the city.”

The guard stationed outside her room stared at her as if she’d sprouted a second head.

Holly stood in the doorway and folded her arms across her chest. She’d been in her room for two hours already and was nearly mad with anxiety, wondering what was going on with her brother. She’d already spent a good amount of time checking email, and sending one to her neighbor begging him to keep Butterball, her cat, for a few months instead of days.

“I am not a prisoner here,” she continued. “Unless Rafiq has said otherwise?”

The man flinched when she said Rafiq’s name; obviously he still did not approve of her referencing the Sheikh in such a disrespectful manner. “You are, of course, free to go outside the palace, Miss Winchester. So long as you are accompanied by bodyguards.”

She’d expected nothing less, and if it meant having a bit of freedom then she’d take it. “Fine. Let me grab my purse and I’ll be ready in a moment.”

Nearly a half hour later, Holly found herself immersed in one of the city’s most popular markets. She’d visited the markets briefly during her first visit to Raljahar but had left wanting to explore more.

Everywhere she looked there were vibrant colors from clothing, scarves, and blankets, not to mention the produce, while the smell of spices filled the air.

The walkway was narrow and crowded, with booths on either side to tempt their wares. Somewhere down the street music was being played, and she just barely bit back the temptation to start moving her hips to the enthralling eastern notes. It reminded her of the belly dancing classes she’d taken for fitness a few years back. The eastern culture had always intrigued her.

She’d left the palace in a foul mood, but somehow Holly couldn’t help but become caught up in the excitement and bustle of the market.

While passing another stand, a woman with a small child beside her called out to her in Arabic, holding up a bright red scarf.

Holly shook her head, wishing she could communicate better.

“You are English?” the seller called out.

“American.”

The woman beamed. “Welcome to Raljahar. My name is Faiza. I have a scarf that would look lovely with your coloring, ma’am.”

Smiling faintly, Holly moved to take the scarf from the woman. “I’m Holly. And you speak English perfectly.”

“Thank you. My father is English, and so I am bi-lingual. My daughter also speaks.”

Holly kneeled down by the girl and smiled. “Is it true? Can you speak English?”

The girl, probably around four or five, clung to her mother’s leg and stared shyly at Holly. “Yes,” she finally whispered.

Holly’s smile widened. “What is your name?”

“Inas.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Inas. You speak English just as well as your mommy.” Holly straightened and gave a rueful smile. “I wish I spoke your native language, but I only know a few words.”

The woman gave her a considering look. “Will you be in Raljahar long?”

Too long. Far too long.

“A few months.” She slid a glance over the colorful clothing in the woman’s stand and sighed. Since she would be here a while, perhaps she should try to blend in more?

There were skirts and long-sleeved blouses of various colors and fabrics. Beautifully woven, some with beads or designed with gorgeous patterns.

“You like the purple skirt, ma’am?”

“I like several of them. And please, call me Holly.” She bit her lip and then nodded. “I think I’d like to buy a few things, actually, including the scarf.”

Before too long, Holly had searched through the array of clothing and filled a large bag with purchases.

Fiaza handed her the bags and smiled warmly. “Thank you, Holly. You will look beautiful in them. And if you truly want to learn to speak our language, I teach daily classes at my home to tourists or non-Arab-speaking westerners. I gave you my card, which has my contact information and the hours.”

From behind her, Holly heard the bodyguard give a small grunt of disapproval.

Fiaza’s gaze widened, as if she’d just realized the man who wore the palace’s uniform was escorting Holly. “But of course, that may not be appropriate,” she said on a rush. “It was presumptuous of me—”

“Not at all. I will definitely keep your warm offer in mind. Thank you, Fiaza.”

The bodyguard finally cleared his throat and gave her a reproachful look. “Miss Winchester, we should leave. It is approaching supper time.”

Biting back a sigh, Holly nodded. For a couple of hours she’d let herself enjoy a bit of freedom, speak with the people of Raljahar and explore a popular marketplace. The city fascinated her, almost more this time than it had last time.

As much as she loathed Rafiq, she couldn’t seem to hate his country. The people were so warm and friendly, all full of stories and eager to help her explore.

Holly allowed herself to be escorted out of the marketplace and into the sleek black car that whisked her back toward the palace. Her forced home for the next few months. Oh my God, if she really thought about it she got nauseous. It was far too overwhelming.

As they approached the palace, her breath once again caught at how magnificent the structure was. The cream building was a mass of arches and columns, architecturally gorgeous, its symbolism awe-inspiring.

When she’d come here two years ago she’d been equally enchanted, probably because she’d never met a real sheikh before.

Her smile faded.

At least now she knew just how overrated the experience was.





Chapter 5



Back in the palace, Holly spent the rest of the day in her room. She had no desire to go explore the palace any further—especially with Rafiq’s watchdogs shadowing her every move.

Exhaustion had finally taken over. She’d been lying on the bed for the last hour, trying to nap, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. She couldn’t stop worrying about her brother or thinking about what had happened at breakfast with Rafiq. The market had been a good distraction, but once she was alone again with her thoughts, it all came rushing back.