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Authors: Rachael Thomas

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‘I am?' Why was he saying such things?

He leant forward and took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips, pressing them lightly against the back of her hand, making her heart flutter wildly. ‘You are mine now,' he said in a husky whisper, his eyes sparking with a challenge that mixed with desire, creating a lethal cocktail. ‘Truly mine.'

This wasn't about anything more than possession. He'd claimed her as his wife with such dedicated charm he'd been assured success. There would be no question of an annulment now and divorce wasn't on his agenda. He'd made that perfectly clear. She was effectively trapped here with him. A man she loved and found ever harder to resist who only wanted her in the line of duty.

‘I will only stay until Annie and Claude return from America,' she interjected fiercely, pulling her hand back, but his fingers held hers tightly, preventing it.

He stood up, his regal command instantly back in place. ‘That was never part of our deal, Amber. You agreed to return to Barazbin and you will stay.'

‘No,' she snapped, and she pulled her hand away.

‘No?' he questioned, his desire-laden eyes hardening to glittering black. ‘You will stay and tonight you will go to the feast.'

‘I can't. It would be wrong to give the people false hope.' She couldn't keep the pleading note from entering her voice.

From the grim line of his lips she knew it was futile to beg and plead. Instead, she glared at him, seeing his expression turn as heavy as storm clouds. He stood, towering over her, reminding her of his power.

‘I shall escort you to the feast. Be ready by sunset.'

* * *

Kazim turned and marched from the room, away from the woman who'd practically driven him mad with desire. He had thought her allure would fade once he'd tasted the forbidden fruit, but the fact that she was now truly his and his alone only intensified his need for her. She made him want things he could never have, be the person he could never be.

He thought of her insistence on leaving and irritation bubbled inside him. His people had welcomed her and were expecting her to stay. They wanted her to be their princess and one day their queen. He wanted her by his side on the path through life that fate had forged him—the same fate that had led her to him. He also wanted her in his bed at night. Each and every night. This was a new realisation, one he hadn't totally come to terms with.

As afternoon slipped into evening Kazim realised he was going to have to do more to convince Amber that he wanted her to stay. He had amends to make and tonight would give him the perfect opportunity. He would show off his wife to all present, including his father. He wanted to make sure that nobody would ever question the validity of their marriage. But, most of all, he would do it his way; he wouldn't allow himself to be influenced any more by the way his father had treated his mother. The emotional bully who had eventually broken his mother's spirit, forcing her to retreat from everyone until her death, was not something he wanted to be. He didn't want to live beneath that shadow any longer.

Kazim pushed open the doors to their suite a short time later and his breath was taken away by the sight that greeted him. In full traditional dress of stunning gold, Amber shimmered like an oasis in the parched desert. As his silence lengthened she raised her chin in the defiant little gesture he had come to admire. She was out of this world.

‘This time,' he said as his heart hammered a little too fast and desire raced in his blood, making his head pound as if Arabian stallions were galloping right over him, ‘far more beautiful than exquisite.'

He moved towards her, drawn by an unknown force, watching her delicate face as a flush swept over her exotically high cheekbones. Her brown eyes, enhanced by make-up, watched him boldly and he clenched his fists against the desire to drag her to bed right now and forget the formalities of the banquet. How was he going to be able to spend the entire evening at her side, when all he wanted was her naked and beneath his body in his bed as he claimed her again and again?

‘Not without the help of an army of maids.' She smiled, her face suddenly lighting up, her eyes sparkling like the ocean on a sunny day. He had never seen her smile like that, but he liked it and vowed to make it happen more often.

‘You are a princess and such treatment goes with the job.' He stood to one side, his hand held out towards the doors. ‘If you are ready, Princess Amber of Barazbin, we have to attend a banquet in your honour.'

* * *

Shyness rushed over Amber as she walked towards him, as his eyes seemed to devour every part of her body, which sizzled from just his gaze. It was madness, but she wanted him with such a force it almost knocked her breath from her body.

Focus, she told herself as, a few minutes later, they entered the banqueting hall, which was adorned with flowers and where a scent of spices filled the air. Voices hummed to a hush as she entered with Kazim, curious eyes cast her way. What were they thinking? Were they really welcoming her with open arms?

Such thoughts raced through her mind as the festivities erupted around her; dancers and beautiful music filled the magnificent room that formed the centre of the palace. Captivated, she stopped and looked around her, feeling Kazim stop at her side, his arm pulling her just that little bit closer.

‘This is for you, Princess Amber.' His voice, velvety soft as he spoke close to her ear, sent shivers down her spine. ‘They are welcoming you home.'

Her heart thumped in her chest and she turned to look into his handsome face, now so tantalisingly close. ‘I am honoured.'

‘Before we enjoy the evening, my father would like to welcome you back.' Was it just her imagination or had his voice hardened, just from the mention of his father? Before she had time to say anything he guided her through the throng of people, all smiling her way and eager to catch her attention. She smiled back with graceful dignity and followed, but inside quaked at the thought of seeing her father-in-law again. Kazim's revelations about his childhood only reinforced her first impression of the man: hard, mean and relentless.

‘I see my son has succeeded.' Sheikh Amir Al Amed fixed her with a piercing glare and Amber met it head-on, taking in the implication of his words.

‘Did you doubt him?' She couldn't help herself. She wasn't going to stand meekly before him and allow him to intimidate her. Kazim's arm loosened on hers. She'd spoken out of turn.

Kazim's father looked first at his son with narrowed eyes then back to her and she felt the full force of his scrutiny.

‘I'm pleased to see you are feeling stronger today, Father,' Kazim interjected into the conversation. ‘It does us both a great honour that you are present this evening.'

Kazim's gallant words salved his father's prickly demeanour, but she knew he was doing what came naturally. He was stepping in, protecting her. Just as he'd done for his mother and because of that he'd got hurt. The scar on his chest bore testament to that. Her heart softened and instinctively she moved closer to Kazim.

Sheikh Amir nodded in satisfaction, keeping his eyes firmly on Amber. ‘I made a wise choice with your marriage.'

‘You did,' Amber boldly answered and felt Kazim turn to look at her, but she kept her eyes locked with his father.

She blinked in shock when Sheikh Amir laughed a deep, throaty laugh and for a brief moment she saw the handsome man he must have once been. ‘A wise choice indeed. Now go. Do your duty.'

Dismissed, she allowed Kazim to guide her across the room full of people, her knees suddenly weak from the encounter with his father.

‘You've won him over,' Kazim whispered in her ear as the music became louder and the dancing more lively. He gestured to her to sit as they took their places for the festivities. ‘I should have known you would. You won me over just as easily.'

Amber was saved from replying by a dancing display before them. Women in bright colours, adorned with gold jewellery, swayed and danced as the music soared to the domed roof of the palace. It was spectacular and took on a dreamlike quality. To think, just a few days ago she was waitressing in Paris, saving for the art course she had enrolled in...

Soon the most delicious food she'd ever tasted began to be served and she made polite conversation with those around her. Every move she made, she could feel Kazim's eyes on her, hot and passionate, openly devouring her. Even when he was apparently deep in conversation with others she felt his gaze slide to her, slip down her body as if he was removing every piece of silk from her.

The torment continued for several hours and, just when she thought she couldn't take it any more, Kazim came and stood next to her, took her hand and led her away from the festivities, just as he had done on their wedding night.

Panic sluiced over her as she wondered what would happen when they were alone. Would he retreat to his sumptuous room within their suite? Cold fear trickled down her spine, as if she were beneath an icy shower. She hadn't mentioned the money, hadn't told him what her mother had come to tell her about how her father was using Kazim's money.

All those thoughts left her mind as he turned to look at her, the black depths of his eyes swirling with unashamed passion.

‘This is what should have happened on our wedding night,' he said as he closed the doors of their suite and gathered her up into his arms, marching into his room and placing her on the bed.

‘I thought we'd already had our wedding night, in England,' she teased, swept away with the moment. She totally forgot her earlier decision of adopting cool aloofness as he pulled off his headdress, revealing tousled dark hair that her fingers itched to slide into.

‘I am making amends for the past and tonight, here in my palace, in Barazbin we shall have our wedding night.'

He moved towards the bed and a rush of heated desire swept over her, but his next words doused the flame of passion almost instantly.

‘Tomorrow I am going into the desert.'

He was leaving her? She couldn't face being alone in the palace now. Despite the fact that until tonight he'd only tolerated her presence out of duty, she wanted to be with him. ‘I'd like to come.'

‘It is not a place for a princess.' He looked at her, shock evident on his face.

His words didn't deter her, not once the idea had taken shape in her mind, but as he pulled off his robes, revealing his glorious body she had to focus on what he'd said.

She should tell him about the money her father had taken from him on false pretences, but as he strode, almost naked, towards the bed, all thoughts of that left her mind.

‘I need to be seen with you—is that not what you said in England?' She pushed her argument forward, trying not to give into the fire which raged inside her body as he lay on the bed next to her, propping himself up with one hand and sliding the other over her silk-covered body. ‘Take me with you.'

‘The desert is not a place for a princess and, besides, I live like a nomad whilst out there.' His hand trailed seductively over her breasts and her nipples hardened in immediate response. He smiled. A knowing and sexy smile.

‘Would it not help your cause if I came with you?' She purred the question at him as her body moved in answer to his caress. ‘I could keep you warm at night.'

Instantly his mouth claimed hers in a hard and passionate kiss, which left her reeling from its intensity. His hands pulled at the sumptuous gold silk impatiently and she pressed herself against his nakedness, feeling more powerful, more attractive than she ever had before.

This was the man she loved with all her heart and she wanted to be with him wherever he went, despite all she'd said and promised herself.

‘Temptress,' he growled as finally the silk gave way and his hands found her skin. His touch burnt as his fingers caressed her breast.

‘Please, Kazim, I want to go with you.' He kissed her again and she wound her arms about his neck, surrendering to the moment. When the kiss ended she whispered seductively, ‘Take me with you.'

‘What man could refuse such an offer?'

CHAPTER EIGHT

T
HE
HEAT
OF
the desert was far more intense than Amber remembered. Or was it the man who was now steering the four-wheel drive across the blistering expanse of sand which stretched for miles ahead of them that was causing the intensity? Memories of yet another night in Kazim's arms made her pulse race and she stole a glance at his profile; lines of concentration were furrowing his brow.

All her planned indifference to him was forgotten, lost in the passion he'd brought to life within her with just one glance, one touch. She loved him and as she had to be here in Barazbin at the moment she was going to make the most of it. Certain he didn't love her, she needed to make each and every one of those moments last her a lifetime.

‘I'd forgotten how beautiful the desert is,' she said, focusing her attention on the massive sand dunes rising up on either side of them, dominating the intense blue of the skyline. She had the impression that she and Kazim were small and insignificant, pawns in a much bigger game being played out against the majestic landscape.

‘It can also be a dangerous place. Just one storm and everything you see will change. The desert is like life—changeable. One storm and the whole course of life alters.' She looked at him, startled.

Was he was referring to his father? This was the closest he'd come to telling her about what had happened. Her eyes were drawn to the way his fingers gripped hard onto the steering wheel, as if the vehicle could give him strength.

Her heart lurched in her chest and she started to reach out to him, wanting to touch him, reassure him, but the look he shot her when he saw her movement killed that thought instantly. He was back behind his line of defence. Once again unreachable.

‘What happened?' she asked, hating the hesitation in her voice because whatever it was affected her and she had a right to know. ‘The night you got that scar?'

‘It is no concern of yours.' His eyes met hers briefly as the vehicle swayed endlessly across the barren gold landscape. The intensity of the angry sparks in the deep blackness of his eyes almost made her hold her tongue. But why should she?

‘It is, Kazim. It has implications for me—for us.'

He looked ahead again and she did the same, as if keeping her eyes from his handsome profile would help.

‘As I said at the polo match, I stood between my mother and father.'

His voice was hard and level. She could feel the control he was exerting, feel it in the tension that had suddenly filled the vehicle, and all she wanted to do was get out of it, but ahead of her was nothing but sand dunes, sculpted by the hand of Mother Nature.

Amber sighed in frustration, not just at the lengthy and incredibly hot journey but at his reluctance to talk to her. Obviously the hours in each other's arms these last few nights meant nothing. He didn't want her to get close, not emotionally. He had only been staking his claim on her, preventing her from returning to the life she'd made since leaving the desert.

Should she now tell him about the money her father had deceived him over? The money that Kazim had thought he was giving to her? What would he say when he found out her father was attacking Barazbin as a way of avenging the dishonour Kazim had brought upon her by discarding her after their wedding? Judging by the frown on her mother's face yesterday morning, it was not what Kazim would have expected or wanted.

‘Kazim, I think we should talk,' she said and looked again at his profile; it was stern and unapproachable. Her courage floundered instantly but she had to tell him.

* * *

Kazim wanted to close his eyes against the pain of that day, but he knew he had to explain. She was right—it had implications for both of them. She did have a right to know.

‘Very well,' he said, refusing to look at her, keeping his eyes on the way ahead as if he was driving a precarious cliff road instead of the vast sands before them. ‘It was my fault.'

‘What?' That one word almost squeaked from her lips, heightening his pain and guilt. She sounded shocked.

‘It was my fault. I lost my temper. I challenged my father and whilst youth was on my side, experience wasn't.'

He hadn't said so many words at once about that day, not even to his mother, and especially not to his father. Since the day he'd stood up to his father, Kazim and his mother had barely spoken. He'd disappointed her.

Instead of protecting his mother, as he'd done since he was a boy, he'd let her down. He'd become as bad as the man she'd married. Now, as he drove across the expanse of the desert with Amber at his side it was as if someone had unlocked a door, letting all the pain and guilt spill out from him.

‘I'm sure that's not true,' she said softly and touched his arm and his body stiffened. He didn't deserve her sympathy.

He wanted to stop, to turn and give her his full attention. He wanted to tell her everything, but at the same time he didn't want to see the pity that must be swimming in her eyes turn to shame and repulsion. Suddenly, for the first time ever, it mattered what she thought of him.

Instead, he fixed his eyes back on the sand, knowing that very soon they would reach the camp and the luxurious tent he'd instructed to be built in readiness for them. Then he would have to face whatever was in her eyes. Face it and deal with it.

‘After you left I wanted to leave too,' he began as the tension built around them to almost explosive levels. He'd envied her the ability to turn and walk away. ‘I had no wish to be a prince in a palace, little more than an animal in a cage. I wanted freedom.'

She sat silently next to him and he sensed her shock, sensed the stiffening of her body as she pulled her hand back. In that moment he realised she'd been the same, a bird in a beautiful prison, manipulated by her parents and then harshly rejected by him.

He'd started the sorry tale now, so he had to finish. ‘My father and I quarrelled and, before he left, he accused me of neglecting my people. He told me the nomad tribes needed help. But I didn't stay, didn't listen to a word. I had my own duty, an oil company employing hundreds. I chose that, never imagining the palace without my father's heavy hand ruling it.'

‘Then your father became ill.' Her voice was barely a whisper and hardly audible above the hum of the engine.

‘Yes, and my life changed again. Like the dunes after a sandstorm, no trace of what was there before was left.' He kept his eyes fixed on the way ahead.

* * *

Amber couldn't comprehend what Kazim was telling her. ‘It still wasn't your fault.'

‘True, but if I had not argued, refused to go back to the palace, he would never have had the heart attack.'

The four-wheel drive climbed up a large sand dune, taking all his concentration. She waited—for what, she didn't know. Then, as they reached the top of the sand dune, she saw a camp below them, sheltered on all sides by other high dunes. Many tents spread out before her, people busily going about their daily tasks.

Kazim stopped the vehicle and turned to look at her. ‘The thing that hurts the most, after this episode—' he touched his chest, where the scar lay concealed beneath his robes ‘—my last words to my mother were ones of anger. She refused to see me again and died alone. I destroyed her and never made my peace with her. I cannot forgive myself for that.'

‘Don't blame yourself, Kazim. I don't.'

‘You should do. Just as you should because I cannot offer you the freedom you crave. The freedom you deserve.'

‘I have always known that I would marry a man of my father's choosing. I was never free, Kazim. Neither were you. As you said, it is our duty.'

A duty I do now, first and foremost because of what you can offer to Annie's little boy.

That was her only motivation. It had been what had driven her to accept his hard bargain and now it was what kept her focused. She was here, doing this, for Annie and Claude.

She wanted to ask about them, wanted to know where they were, what they were doing, but now was not the time. Just as it wasn't the time to tell him about the money her father had kept from her. But she would have to tell him.

‘Now you know what has happened I do not want to talk of it again.' His words were firm and insistent and her heart wrenched at the pain evident within them. If silence on the subject was what he wanted, that was what she would give him.

‘Is this where we will camp?' She injected as much lightness into her voice as she could. The tension swirling around them was almost impossible to bear.

He looked across at her, his eyes piercing into hers, and for a moment she thought she saw shards of raw pain. Then, as if night had fallen, the shutters came down and he was once more fully in command of his emotions, having locked them neatly away.

‘This is to be our home for the next week,' he said and started driving towards the camp.

A tremor of panic tore down Amber's spine. Was she really to be here with Kazim for a week? What had she let herself in for during her moment of weakness? A moment when she'd thought she had to be with him, as if the love she had for him could grow inside his heart too, until he couldn't help but tell her he loved her.

Would she ever hear those words from his lips? She frowned at an unwanted childhood memory. She'd never heard those words from anyone other than her grandmother. Nobody else had ever told her they loved her. She'd thought her mother had hinted at it the last time they'd spoken. But she never displayed affection. Why should that change now?

This was madness.

‘We have our own tent at the outer edge of the camp.' He pointed towards a larger, much grander tent than the small and unassuming ones dotted around them as they drove into the camp.

As they neared the tent she could see theirs was far from small, far from plain. In fact it appeared to be a palace of fabric. ‘I thought you said you didn't do luxury in the desert.' She was too shocked to keep the words to herself and was rewarded with a light and very sexy laugh as he stopped the vehicle at the side of the tent.

‘I don't, but you do.'

She got out of the vehicle, glad to stretch her legs after the tense journey, and walked a little closer, unable to believe such luxury here in the middle of the desert. It was like something from a tale from long ago. A tale of seduction.

‘I didn't have to,' she said as she walked towards their tent, stopping a little way off, totally amazed.

Amber had never seen anything like it. The front of the tent was pulled back and she could see inside. Deep purple curtains hung within it and rich gold cushions were scattered on the carpet. Lanterns glowed, lighting the dim interior, and the heady scent of incense teased her senses as it drifted on the breeze. She turned to Kazim earnestly. ‘I could have stayed in something more modest.'

He stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, heat rushing from him and igniting the desire they'd shared last night. ‘I want you to stay here with me. I want you to be truly my desert princess.'

His deep voice was slow and incredibly sexy and she could feel his breath on her ear before he bent and kissed her neck. She closed her eyes against the rising flow of desire. Was this his way of distracting her from what they'd just spoken of? Would he do this every time she got just that bit too close to the real man?

Part of her hoped that he would, but another part of her knew it wouldn't last, that he would soon tire of her and seek comfort and satisfaction elsewhere, return to his playboy prince role and become the oil sheikh that women dreamt of being with and men wanted to emulate.

‘I have a meeting with the elders of the camp,' he said as he drew her into the privacy of the tent and took her in his arms. ‘But when I return we will be together all night.'

The promise, given in such a sexy deep voice, made her heart hammer against her chest. Hot liquid warmth erupted from deep within her, igniting desire again. With just one caress, a kiss and a few soft words he'd melted her, crumbling any resistance she had—because she loved him. Even more so now she'd glimpsed the real man, seen that he felt, that he cared and that he loved. All she could hope for now was that he would one day love her.

But would he? Would he ever truly be hers and love her as she'd loved him since the day she'd been told by her father that he would be her husband, her prince? If he couldn't, she knew she'd have to leave.

‘I will be here,' she said seductively and reached up to press her lips against his.

‘What man could refuse such an offer,' he said between kisses that stirred their passion to new heights. ‘It is my hope that our union will soon be blessed with an heir.'

Have his baby? The thought settled over her, creating images of a child with dark hair, so like Kazim. The idea of having his child, his heir, when he didn't love her, cast the preceding moments into shadow.

‘You want children? So soon?' She pulled back and looked up at him, her voice a husky whisper.

His eyes met hers; the sparks of desire swirling in them made her heart race and she fought against it. This was important and not at all what she had bargained on. Having a child now would tie them irrevocably together. Inside, she breathed a sigh of relief, thankful she'd been taking precautions of her own. She wasn't at all sure she was ready to be tied to this man for the rest of her life, not when he didn't love her.

‘Of course.' His brow rose then his eyes narrowed slightly. ‘I am heir to the throne of Barazbin. The only heir. I have to produce my own heir!' He looked at her, making her breath catch as his eyes darkened, the molten gold flecks more pronounced than ever. ‘It is our duty, Amber. The reason we married.'

‘I just hadn't expected it to be so soon.' Her pulse rate increased as he stroked the back of his fingers gently down her cheek, his thumb lingering teasingly on her lips.

BOOK: Claimed by the Sheikh
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