Claimed by the Sheikh (13 page)

‘I most certainly do not,' she retorted as she walked away.

She wasn't getting away with it that easily. If he had to face up to things then so did she. Love was what she'd called the simmering tension that stretched tautly between them every second they were together. He called it lust.

‘Prove it,' he said as he followed her, grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her against him, the silk of her
abaya
whispering softly. Her breasts pressed against his chest and a hot stab of lust hurtled through him. All he was doing was proving
he
was the one attracted to her, while she remained rigid in his arms. Unyielding and unrelenting.

‘No, I will not.' Each word was razor-sharp and she glared up at him.

The challenge was too much.

‘Then I will.'

With that his lips claimed hers in a demanding kiss, one that made his pulse race. Beneath his lips, hers remained still and pressed tightly shut, but as his hand plunged into the softness of her hair they parted and a sigh escaped. His heart rate rocketed and desire thumped in his blood.

He'd proved his point. It didn't matter how much she protested, she wanted him. She was his. He should stop now, should pull back and let her know he'd won, but he couldn't. He didn't want to. Hot need for her was rushing through him and as she sighed against his lips once more, pressing her body harder against him, he knew he was lost.

‘How can this be so right when everything else is wrong?' she whispered as she pulled back to look up at him, her breathing hard and fast, her eyes like molten gold and heavy with desire.

He couldn't answer her, not when he didn't even know why himself. He'd never known such an overwhelming need before, such all consuming passion that had the power to render anything else inconsequential. ‘All that matters at the moment is kissing you,' he said in a hoarse whisper as he ran his fingers once again through her hair before angling her head so that he could kiss her deeper and harder than ever. ‘I don't care about duty, the wind or the rebels. All I care about is kissing you.'

Amber was intoxicating and Kazim was well and truly lost. Could it be that he was hers, that he would for ever be hers?

‘Kazim, I...' Her voice was barely above a whisper as she looked up at him, her brown eyes full of the same desire that thudded in his veins. ‘I can't...we mustn't.'

‘We should,' he said in a low rumble, unable to deny his need for her any longer. ‘And we will.'

With that he moved her towards the low bed, laid her down against the array of cushions and covered her body with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her, all protest and fight gone from her glorious body.

‘We shouldn't,' she said in a husky whisper as she spread her palms against his back, which only increased the heated hardness of his body. The very fact that she still wanted him, that, despite her protests, she couldn't stop kissing and touching him, made him want her all the more.

* * *

Urgency filled Amber's kiss as she pulled him down closer to her. She wanted him. She knew that doing this would only make it harder to leave, but she was powerless to resist. She shouldn't, but she couldn't help herself. It was madness—total madness.

Kazim's hands deftly worked to remove the daring red
abaya
she'd dressed in until she lay on a bed of red silk, totally naked to his gaze, her whole body on fire. Eagerly he pulled his robe off, towering above her as he knelt among the cushions. He was magnificent; every honed muscle made her quiver with desire.

‘Do you still think we shouldn't?' His deep voice, now a hoarse whisper, sent a shiver of anticipation racing down her spine.

She shook her head and licked her dry lips as his dark-skinned nakedness was revealed, her eyes drawn down to the evidence that, if nothing else, he desired her.

Warmth pooled between her legs and she reached out to touch him, enjoying the sudden power as he closed his eyes and groaned in pleasure. But it wasn't enough. She wanted more—much more.

As if sensing her desire, he moved and once again covered her body, this time the heat of his scorching hers. Then, with frantic need, more powerful than she'd ever experienced before, she wrapped her legs around him, encouraging him deep inside her. She lifted her hips, moving with him as a tidal wave of passion submerged them. She cried out, hearing him cry out too.

Passion slipped away and she lay naked against him, the wind blowing less wildly against the tent. Kazim had been right. The storm had blown itself out and, like the wind, her heart rate slowly became more normal.

She shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have given into the carnal lust that just one touch from him could spark. How could she leave and go back to her old life after a moment like that?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
HE
JOURNEY
BACK
to the palace had been strained, the week in the desert abandoned. The tension had pulled them almost to breaking point. Amber still couldn't understand how they had ended up making love the previous night. Had Kazim been proving a point to her or himself? If so, what was it?

Did he want her to admit she was unable to resist him? Or was it that he could share such a moment without uttering a single word of love? He'd made it perfectly clear that love wasn't and never would be on his agenda. It was only ever going to be about duty.

As she'd argued her point last night she'd been sure she wanted to leave, but now, as the hot sun shone down on the peace of the palace gardens, she didn't know what she wanted any more. She had fallen more deeply in love with him with each passing day and, whilst she craved love, she couldn't imagine a future without him.

‘I was told I'd find you here.' Kazim's deep, sexy voice broke through her tumultuous thoughts and she looked up, shielding her eyes against the sun, watching him approach.

Her heart hammered in her chest as her stomach turned over. The image he created in his white robes and headdress was overwhelming. His tanned face was so handsome her fingers itched to touch him, to caress his face and feel the slight roughness of his stubble.

But she couldn't. In that moment she realised she would be fooling herself if she stayed. She had to leave this place and this marriage, in order to keep her sanity. Her reaction to just seeing him now proved this beyond any doubt. And now was the moment to tell him. The inevitable had been delayed long enough.

She stood up, not wanting to have him tower over her, reminding her of his power. ‘I must leave Barazbin. I need to go back to Paris.' She kept her voice hard and determined. The previous night in the desert had proved just how easily he could derail her.

He looked at her, his eyes searching her face, then he crossed his arms over his chest and took in a deep breath. Those seconds she waited for his response seemed like for ever.

‘As you wish.' His tone was curt and his eyes sharp as he looked into hers.

Had he just agreed? Just like that, she was free? Relief washed over her and she took in a deep ragged breath, amazed how easy it had been. Then hurt rattled in. He thought so little of her he was willing to let her go, to leave for good.

‘I need to be back in Paris for when Annie and Claude arrive home.' She pressed her palm hard against her collarbone, as if doing so would keep in all the hurt that threatened to escape, to make itself known to him.

She saw his jaw clench. ‘Will you stay in Paris?' His voice was a guttural growl, reminding her of the first rumbles of thunder.

Was he asking if she intended ever to return to Barazbin? Was that why he'd accepted her request so calmly, because he thought it would be a visit? Whatever the reason, she had to make it clear.

‘Yes, Kazim,' she said, hating the slight falter in her voice. ‘I will be staying in Paris—for good.' She looked into his eyes and again the seconds ticked by, but she couldn't remain like that and she lowered her gaze, breaking the connection.

He pressed his lips together and nodded in acceptance of what she'd just said. The sun hurt her eyes and she had trouble seeing his face clearly, unable to read his expression. Why, after all that had happened in the desert, was he allowing her to walk out on him?

She hadn't expected this, but it hurt. She loved him—so much it was painful, and he was totally devoid of any emotion, any reaction to the news that she was leaving him. She swallowed down hard as tears threatened her. Quickly, she used the fierceness of the sun as an excuse. ‘That sun is so bright, I can hardly see you.'

‘I know,' he said calmly, his eyes never leaving her face.

What did he know? That her heart was breaking just to say those words? That she loved him so much she had to leave? Frantically, she searched for something else to say, anything that would take her mind from the pain of saying goodbye.

‘What about Annie and Claude? Have you any news from them?' A little edge of desperation crept into her voice. She hadn't spoken to Annie and was nervous as to what she would say, especially about her marriage. Shamefaced, she realised that if she'd lied to Kazim by omission she'd also lied to Annie the same way.

‘They are due to return from America next week, all being well.' He walked along the pathway that staked its claim boldly through the garden. He broke the eye contact that had seen every move she'd made, every emotion that had crossed her face.

After a few paces he stopped, his back to her, pausing as if he wanted to say something else. She waited. Nothing.

She looked at him, drinking him in as if it was the last time she'd see him, trying to imprint him on her memory, her heart.

‘Good, that will give me time to get the flat in order before they return,' she said brightly—a little too brightly if his sudden glance at her was anything to go by. ‘I'd like to leave as soon as possible.'

* * *

Kazim knew what she said made sense. Their marriage should never have been revived. It had been a mistake for him to ever think of getting her back, they were so wrong for one another. Yes, he might desire her with a raging fire more wicked than the desert heat, but that wasn't a foundation on which to build his marriage and the future of his kingdom. Still, her eagerness to leave hurt.

‘I have a plane ready. You will leave at once.' He couldn't look at her and instead feigned interest in the plants that flowered in the garden, with little regard for the anguish he felt deep inside. That pain was something he couldn't yet analyse; all he could do was lock it away, pretend it didn't exist.

‘You have a plane ready?' The shock was more than evident in her voice and he closed his eyes against the wave of nausea that thrashed his body. He nodded his answer, unable to trust his voice to work, and remained with his back to her. He had to appear in control and right now he wasn't.

‘How? Why?' she said, stammering slightly over the words.

‘Because you are right,' he said as he whirled round to face her. He could at least say these words to her face—the beautiful face he would never forget. ‘We should never have got married and divorce is, as you suggested, the only option.'

He watched the soft skin of her throat, skin his lips had caressed, move as she gulped back her shock. Her eyes widened. She took a step towards him, her hand almost reaching out, then she snapped it back against her stomach, as if she too was in pain. She nodded her head slowly, the sun gleaming in her raven-black hair, and stepped back several paces. Back and away from him, he felt her retreat, felt it in the tight band that crushed his chest, threatening to suffocate him.

‘Divorce,' she said firmly. ‘Of course. It is the only option and the one I wanted that very first night you found me in Paris.'

It was what he now had to do. Recent discussion with his officials, those who helped him rule his country, had made his options clear. He had to let her go. ‘We have no choice in the matter now, Amber.'

‘We don't?' Her delicate brows drew together in confusion.

He sighed, wishing she could at least, just once, own up to her lies and deceit.

‘Not any more.' He let the words hang between them, waited as the stillness of the garden captured them. He saw her lips form the word ‘why', but didn't hear it. She was speechless with shock. Just as when he'd been told what he should do, but now he had to be firm, use a hard voice, anything to keep at bay the fire of desire that raged inside him.

‘Your past has caught up with you.' Every muscle in his body tightened as he said the words that would finish their marriage for ever.

‘My what?' She flung the question at him full force.

‘It has come to the attention of officials here at the palace exactly where you worked whilst you were in Paris.' He fought hard to keep his voice calm, still humiliated from being told just what she'd been up to. She'd made a fool of him.

‘I was a waitress!' she said, interrupting his explanation—one he still found hard to believe, but the evidence had been put before him. The decision was no longer only his. He was now doing his duty. As the only heir to Barazbin, he had no option, no other choice. They couldn't remain married and that was before he took her activities with her father into consideration.

‘I have told them exactly that. I defended you, Amber.' Strangely, after every lie had been exposed, he did believe she had only been waitressing.

‘Why?' Her voice was hardly above a whisper as she spoke.

‘That I can handle. That I can sort. But it is not just that, Amber,' he said quietly, unable to believe how events had unfolded since their return from the desert. There, as the wind had calmed its fury, he'd thought they had made a truce. But he'd been wrong. ‘It is your involvement with the rebels—you knew that attack was going to happen.'

She shook her head fiercely. ‘No, not that. I don't know anything about it.'

‘That is not what the evidence suggests,' he said and walked towards her, unable to help himself. He balled his hands into fists at his sides, trying to keep from touching her. Her gaze darted to the movement then back to his face, questions lingering in her eyes.

‘B-but...' she stammered then shook her head as if knowing that any form of defence would be useless.

‘I want you to go, leave Barazbin. Divorce is the only option and, for my people to consider that, they must have more than sufficient evidence against you.' He couldn't forgive her part in the rebel attacks. She had to go. The marriage had to end.

‘So, I am no longer fit to be your princess,' she said haughtily. ‘No longer fit to be the mother of the heir of Barazbin and all because of lies. Lies that aren't mine, Kazim.'

‘I can't forgive what you have done to my people. There is no way back from that.' He clenched his jaw against the hurt of her betrayal, wanting only to have her gone from his kingdom and his life.

She shook her head. ‘It's lies—all lies.'

He couldn't say anything to that and closed his eyes briefly against the tidal wave of strange emotions that crashed against him, demanding his attention. When he did open his eyes she was watching him, her face marred by confusion. Once again he'd hurt her, but this time it really was out of a sense of duty instead of the cowardly panic that had seized him on their wedding night.

‘Is this your duty too, Kazim?' she said tartly, her chin lifting in defiance, making her more elegant than ever. ‘Are you following orders or do you hate me that much?'

‘I don't hate you, Amber,' he said more softly and gripped his hands harder into tight fists. He mustn't weaken his resolve. He had to be firm and tell her. ‘Your reputation has been brought into question and against that I stood firmly with you. As for the rest, there isn't any choice; you might as well have attacked me personally. I have to do my duty, honour my kingdom. I cannot defend what you did, not ever.'

‘Cannot or will not?' She glared at him, her eyes sparking with gold, highlighting her anger.

‘We both know our marriage isn't a love match and, in light of current circumstances, it can't go on.' Now he sounded just like those men who had informed him, as his father looked on, that he must get rid of his wife. Cold and unyielding.

He didn't want to send her away; he wanted her to stay. He'd glimpsed last night what they could have had, how it could have been. But that was over now. He could never forgive her involvement in the attacks, however small it might have been. All he wanted was to see her leave—right now.

* * *

Amber crumbled inside, her heart shattering into tiny shards that threatened to lacerate every part of her body. A body that craved Kazim, even now. She couldn't move, couldn't say a word. Shock had rooted her to the spot as surely as if she were one of the plants around her, and the hot sun beat down relentlessly, sapping every last bit of strength from her.

She shook her head, denying what was blatantly obvious. He didn't want her and was probably glad of that final bit of evidence that had condemned her and their marriage. He'd even organised a plane to get her away from him as fast as possible. This was worse—far worse—than what he'd done to her on their wedding night. This was more than rejection. It was total annihilation of her and the love she had for him.

She closed her eyes against the memory of the moment she'd told him she loved him.
Love is a fool's indulgence.
His words haunted her and she snapped her eyes open. She couldn't go there now. Not yet. Not while he still stood watching her. Did he have no mercy at all?

‘If you'll excuse me, I need to pack.' He looked startled at her words. But what had he expected her to do? Beg and plead? Why should she when he couldn't even defend her against the decision of his officials? He hadn't even waited to hear her side of the story. He'd just decided she was guilty, believing those around him instead. ‘I will be ready to leave in an hour.'

More like five minutes.
The thought of staying for an hour almost knocked her breath away, but she needed time alone to compose herself, to regroup her emotions. If she was leaving she would do it with her head held high. Whatever charges had been made against her, she was innocent and she would leave this beautiful palace with as much dignity as possible.

‘Very well,' he said then turned and marched away, his white robes seeming to trail after him. She watched him go, his fast pace suggesting he couldn't get away from her quickly enough. Finally he disappeared into the grand archway that led to his offices. Was he now reporting back to those who'd believed she was little better than a traitor?

* * *

True to her word, one hour later Kazim watched as Amber walked from the palace to the waiting car. Her face was a mask, hiding all her emotions. Her body, now dressed in jeans and a soft white blouse, seemed to call to his and he gritted his teeth against the stab of desire that raced through him, reminding him of the hours they'd spent making love.