Beauty and the Sheikh (4 page)

“Have you thought about coming away with me this weekend?” he’d asked.

She’d nodded and cast him another heated glance from beneath her lashes. “I have, and yes, I want to go with you.”

Her words had sent another frenzy of desire through him and he’d claimed her mouth in another thorough kiss.

“Rafiq, I’ve never felt like this with anyone.”

He could still hear her whispered words after he’d lifted his head. Her trembling body had been pressed between him and the pool’s edge, the hardened tips of her nipples scraping against his naked chest.

“You’ve bewitched me,
habiba
. I am a different person with you.” It wasn’t a confession he’d made lightly, or had ever felt the need to make with another woman, but Holly was different.

He’d known she would go away with him for the weekend, but he couldn’t wait. He wanted her, there and then.

Rafiq had deftly removed her bikini top and discovered her breasts with his hands and mouth. Tormenting himself as much as her. When he reached for her bikini bottoms to claim her, her husky words stopped him.

“Rafiq, I should tell you…I’ve never made love before.”

He’d been skeptical, then shocked, that someone whose image was so exploited could still be a virgin. Her gaze had reflected her words though, and it became the reminder of just how young she was.

Ashamed at himself for nearly taking her virginity so casually, he’d pulled her bikini top back and promised to wait until they traveled to the French Riviera for the weekend. 

Rafiq opened his eyes and stared out over his city again. A bitter smile twisted his lips. He should’ve simply taken what she had so blatantly offered in the pool that day, because it was apparent now her virginity had been as real as a desert mirage.

Holly was quite good at playing the innocent. All too skilled at deceiving a man into thinking he alone was the most fascinating, irresistible, charming person on the planet. And during the week he’d spent with her—those moments he’d touched her—Rafiq had almost been convinced he was.

Until later, when the truth ultimately came out.

Another, darker memory slid through his mind, and he tried to stop it, but it was there, replaying in his head like malfunctioning film. It was always there.

He’d arrived early to pick Holly up for their weekend away when he’d heard their voices.

“The Sheikh is a ruthless beast of a man, Holly. If he hasn’t given us an answer by now he’ll likely turn us down. I think it’s brilliant you’re encouraging this little crush he has on you. Sleep with him. What’s one quick tumble over the weekend?”

“One quick tumble? You would have me go so far as to sleep with him to get him to agree to the shoot?” 

It had been Holly’s voice, clear as day, sounding utterly horrified by the suggestion.

“You’re
Holly Winchester
. The Sheikh is probably so grateful for your attention, I wouldn’t be surprised if he signed over his entire kingdom to you if you ended up in his bed!”

He’d been such a fool two years ago, and apparently nothing had changed because he still wanted her. Tasting her tonight had proven he wanted her with an intensity that rocked him to the core. 

Though one thing
had
changed. Holly was no longer a famous model. She’d silently disappeared from the world of fashion in the past year or so, her face vanishing from the spotlight.  

And now, here she was in Raljahar, still achingly beautiful. Enough so to make any man crave her in his bed and even the gentlest of women green with envy to be her. If the women of his country saw someone like her on his arm, they would not be so quick to fear him.

He slowly opened his eyes and his blood quickened as an idea flickered through his head, hesitant at first but gaining momentum. 

That was it. The key to everything.

Perhaps there was a way to…how did they say it? Have his cake and eat it too?

Even though the room she’d been placed in was nothing short of luxurious, Holly knew sleep would be elusive. Her body was heavy with fatigue from a day that had been an endless nightmare of flights, customs, and trying to gain entry to this palace. But she avoided the temptation to crawl into the king-sized bed with the beautifully woven coverlet in shades of gold and burgundy.

Lying in that bed would be too painful a reminder of where she was and the memory of her time here.

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.

“Not even for your brother’s freedom?”

Her fury deflated instantly, dismay and hesitation replacing it. “You would truly force me to be your lover in exchange for my brother’s freedom?” 

“Holly, I have never forced myself upon a woman, and I certainly have no intention of starting with you.” His mouth curved slightly and he reached out to catch a strand of silky hair that taunted him. 

He heard her swift inhalation and the flicker of awareness in her eyes. Then there was the heat he knew she wouldn’t want him to see.

“When you come to my bed, it will be willingly. That I can promise you.”

Her expression became one of panic and she gave a vigorous shake of her head. “Never.”

She tried to move past him but he caught her arm, spinning her back around and into his arms.