My Desert Rose (2 page)

Read My Desert Rose Online

Authors: Kalia Lewis

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #love, #contemporary romance, #weddings, #sheikh, #somali pirates, #kalia lewis

BOOK: My Desert Rose
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Katie's breath
stalled. "It's going to be a boy?"

Annabelle
beamed in joy and the sun bounced off her red hair, giving her
fresh beauty an ethereal radiance. "Shush." She put a finger to her
lips. "Few people know yet, but it was confirmed this week. Tristan
and April are beside themselves with excitement."

A little twinge
of sadness fluttered in Katie's chest as a memory from long ago
danced across her mind. She shooed it away. This was not a day for
feeling any sadness.

Mistaking her
look of melancholy for yearning, Annabelle put her hand on her arm.
"It'll be your turn soon, you'll see."

Not wanting to
reveal the real reason for her pain, she replied with forced
humour, "Yeah and pigs might fly. Anyway, where's that hunky
husband of yours?"

Annabelle
pointed to somewhere behind Katie. "Over there, talking to
Tariq."

Katie turned
and was nearly knocked over by the force of energy from the man who
was speaking to Tristan. Earlier, she'd only noted him in a seated
position, but now she had the full erect version and he was making
her mouth water. Everything about him was good enough to eat.

Tariq had kept
his eyes firmly focused on the maid of honour all day. To her, he
was probably a stranger, known only by his name. To him, she was
like a well-read book, but this was the first time that he'd
actually seen her in the flesh. The real-life package was more than
what he'd hoped for, not just in the sense of her appearance, which
was very attractive, but in her captivating innocence. All day he'd
been waiting for the perfect moment to approach her. Now it was
time, whatever the outcome.

Deliberately
catching her eye from over Tristan's shoulder, he gave her a warm
smile. In his mind, there were two options as to how this day would
end. He was banking on option one, but if it came down to taking
the radical action of option two, then that's exactly what he would
do. Through the connection of their eyes, he tried to convey a
silent message in the form of a plea from his soul to hers. Time
was now of the essence.

Katie's breath
hitched in her throat. A captivating exchange had just passed
between them. What had been relayed from his eyes had nothing to do
with sexual chemistry or amusing banter. It was a wordless question
from the depths of him, searing her soul. What had stunned her was
that a deep part of her had answered and somehow her reply had
marked her as his. Surely that doesn't happen in real life? Oh, but
it just did. Tingles of acute awareness were now pulsating through
her body. Rooted to the spot, she'd watched him grab two flutes of
pink champagne from a passing waitress and move to approach
her.

"Oh my God,"
she whispered nervously to Annabelle. "Mr. Hot Bollywood's coming
over."

Annabelle
laughed, "I'll make sure the fire brigade is on hand to douse those
flames that are roaring between you two."

Then she slunk
away, leaving her looking up into two eyes that must have been made
in chocolate heaven.

 

 

Chapter
One

When Katie had
first regained consciousness, it had taken her mind a few moments
to register that she was tied to a chair, gagged and wearing a
blindfold. Once the initial disbelief that this was really
happening had subsided, she began to wriggle frantically against
the rope binds around her wrists and ankles. After several minutes
of only managing to drain her limbs of precious energy, she began
to shout out against the cloth stuffed in her mouth.

"Gemeeoutesebiiiindsusonofanitch!"

No
response.

The rough
blindfold kept out any light and it was padded at the ears to drown
out sound. Deaf, blind, dumb and unable to move. Not a typical day
for her to say the least. Normally, her day consisted of rising
alone in her bed, grabbing a slice of toast and a quick coffee
before leaving to do her modest, but sedate freelance photography
jobs.

Using the one
sense left that they hadn't plugged, she sniffed the air. It was a
mixture of plastic and leather. Suddenly, her stomach jolted and
she felt as though she’d been airlifted somehow.

"Wattheoooksgoingon?"

Still no
response.

Panic
threatened to engulf her.

Breathe
Katie, breathe. Remember the basic survival skills you learnt at
summer camp when you were nine.
Wait, listen and watch
closely.
She attempted to roll her eyes behind the blindfold at
the stupidity of that training in this situation, but her eyelids
would only open halfway.

Probing her
fogged up mind for answers, she couldn’t exactly remember how she'd
become unconscious or got into this situation. If she could just
recall her last lucid moments perhaps she could piece them together
and find out the reason as to why and how she got here. Pushing
through the fog, she reached out for any fragments of memories.
Images of Annabelle and Tristan's beautiful wedding service flashed
across her mind. Had she been okay at that point? Yes, she had. She
remembered feeling a bit fat in the dress, but there was no feeling
of any threat or danger, so what happened after the ceremony? A
picture of a tall, olive-skinned man, dressed in a black Armani
suit with a crisp white shirt presented itself. The beat of her
heart picked up its pace. Ah, yes, she'd been ogling Tristan’s
business associate, Mr. Hot Bollywood.

What happened
then?

Think Katie,
think!

The images were
getting a bit hazy. There had definitely been a sunset, as she
remembered watching it from the garden while sipping on pink
champagne and laughing with someone, but who was it? Recalling the
deep baritone of a male voice, she shivered in remembrance of how
his seductive tones had caressed her skin.

But what had
the conversation been about?

Clenching her
eyes tightly shut under the blindfold, she tried to bring forth the
words, but it was like looking down a long funnel.

Someone touched
her arm and she flinched in shock. The padding around her ears was
rudely pulled out from underneath the blindfold. The only sound she
could hear was a background drone, as though someone had left a
hairdryer switched on.

"I'm so sorry,
Miss Katarina, but this had to be done."

Katarina! A
rising swell of dread caused her belly to flip over. No-one had
called her Katarina since she was six years old – nearly twenty-two
years ago. The feeling of being pissed off over finding herself
trussed up like a turkey was pushed aside by the force of her fear.
Only a handful of people knew who she really was.

"I'm going to
take the cloth out of your mouth so that you can speak, but I warn
you, the second you shout out, I will put the cloth back in. Nod if
you understand."

She nodded. The
voice that had spoken was the same deep baritone that she'd heard
from the man in the garden at the wedding. If he was cautioning
her, then perhaps their location was public enough to be heard by
others if she yelled out or screamed. Of course, if they were in an
abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere, then she'd be out of
luck, but she had to try. "Help! Someone please help me!" she
called out as the cloth was removed, but the dryness of her throat
made her voice sound flaky and feeble.

"I did warn
you."

She could feel
someone’s warm breath on her face. It was heady and musky.
Instinctively, she wanted to lean in closer to its source. Even in
this dire situation, she had a feeling that there was something
safe about the man's presence, which completely threw her mind into
overdrive. 'Tied-up' and 'safe' really didn't belong in the same
context.

The cloth was
crudely put back in.

"Uonofaookingitch!"

"Okay, we'll
try again. I don’t take lightly to defiance, Miss Katarina. The
sooner you do as you're told, the quicker I can make you more
comfortable."

There was her
name again. This time he spoke to her in a no-nonsense voice, but
it still didn't come across as threatening. It sounded resigned, as
if he didn't want to be doing this, but somehow he had to. She
turned her head into the breath that was once again fanning her
face. The cloth was pulled out.

"Now, I'm going
to take off your blindfold and offer you some water to drink. Nod
if you would like that?"

Idiot! As if
she was going to shake her head!

She nodded
anyway and tried to lick her dry lips at the thought of tasting
water. The sound of him sucking in his breath made her pull her
tongue back in and a period of intense silence followed. It was as
though he was weighing her up and inwardly debating whether or not
he should allow her to see him. "Please, I'll be good," she
pleaded.

His sigh
breezed over her face and cool fingertips touched the back of her
head as they undid the blindfold. The brightness of the overhead
lights prevented her eyes from flying wide open. Blinking slowly,
it took her a while to adjust to the glare, but once they did, her
gaze immediately landed on the male form standing in front of her.
Tall and powerful with a muscular outline - all finished off nicely
with a cautionary look on his face. Oh, she remembered him all
right. "Mr. Hot Bollywood?" she whispered.

He gave her a
quizzical look. "It's Tariq," he replied with slight humour. "Here,
drink this slowly."

"Oh yeah,
Tariq," she murmured. Tingles fluttered down her spine as she felt
him palm the back of her head with one hand and bring the glass to
her mouth with his other hand. Sipping at the cool water, she
couldn't take her eyes away from his penetrating gaze.

Putting the
glass on the side table, Tariq took a step backwards and sat
opposite her in a cream leather seat. Leaning forward, he rested
his elbows on his knees and linked his fingers under his chin.
After months of careful planning, how he dealt with her in these
next few minutes would lay the foundation of their future
relationship. It was a delicate situation. After abducting her from
the wedding, he knew that she might never trust him, but many lives
rested upon the decisions that she would make from this point on.
Thick, long blonde hair fell heavily across her shoulders like a
waterfall and sharp topaz blue eyes were lit up with acute
awareness as she examined her surroundings. She was simply
exquisite.

"Are we on a
plane?" she asked.

"Yes." He
waited for her response, knowing that before this flight was
through, her whole life would be altered.

Katie was now
furious. "What the heck am I doing on a plane? Where are you taking
me? Why am I tied up? I’ll have you reported for this! Thrown into
jail! Hell, I’ll even have you castrated if you dare to come near
me!"

"Have you quite
finished with the temper?" he asked her sharply. The kidnap itself
had been necessary. Option one had given her the chance to come
willingly, but she'd refused, so option two had been executed. It
was a risk he'd been willing to take, although the fire spitting at
him from her eyes did give him cause for concern. There was no room
for making any mistakes.

Katie was
appalled at his words.
Temper! I'll give him temper!
"No,
I've not even begun, and as God is my witness, I’ll be the one
doing the castrating! And I will enjoy it you son-of-a-bitch! You
can’t go around kidnapping helpless women from a wedding! What are
you, some kind of weirdo?"

Now he had the
audacity to chuckle.

"Is this funny
to you? Is a tied-up, helpless woman something to laugh at?" She
struggled against the binds again. "Can you at least untie me?"

The smile fell
from his face. "No, not until I know you won’t be a danger to me or
to yourself."

She sighed
wearily. "I’m not exactly going to throw myself out of a moving
plane am I?" If she could just get free from these ropes then maybe
she could get herself into a better bargaining position, preferably
one where she could take him down with a knee to his most sensitive
parts and then run to find a parachute!

"You just
threatened me with castration, Katarina Turan, so until I explain
myself to you, I would prefer it if you remained where you cannot
do any damage." He waited for her response and wasn't disappointed
to see her eyes widen and her lips form a perfect ‘o’.

The air stilled
around them and she was almost afraid to ask, "How do you know my
full name?"

"I know all
there is to know about you." A shrewd smile spread across his face,
causing a pink blush to creep up her neck and into her cheeks.

"What, as in,
know everything? Or just know a bit of everything?" Surely he
didn’t know about her parents, her whole life and about any
boyfriends she’d ever had?

"Everything…"

Now feeling at
a disadvantage, as she knew nothing about him, she pursed her lips.
"Well, I go by Katie Sharpe now, so please stop calling me Katarina
Turan." This whole scenario was way too peculiar. The kidnapping
alone was enough to make her hyperventilate, but how exactly did he
know all this about her, and more importantly, why?

"No. Katarina
is a beautiful name. It means 'purity'," he said softly.

How dare he?
"Excuse me," she scoffed. "I know what it means, but you don’t have
any say in the matter and I won’t reply to that name." It was time
to get some answers. "Anyway, what's all this about?" Turning her
head slightly, she could make out a ginormous-sized man standing
behind her in the far doorway, armed and ready for action. This was
not just a plane, it was a private jet. "Just exactly who are you?
I mean, I know your name, but what’s with Mr. Pump Iron Bodyguard
back there?"

Tariq got up
from the seat and poured himself a glass of water from the bar.
Just exactly how much should he tell her? Planning something in
your mind and the reality of doing it were two different things.
This situation was now precarious. Not just from kidnapping her,
but in the way that she was physically affecting him. There were no
precautions to take to avoid his instant attraction to her, but he
also knew that she could come to hate him before these next few
weeks were through.

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