Sheikh's Untouched Woman

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Copyright 2015 by (Kylie Knight) - All rights reserved.

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Sheikh’s Untouched Woman

Billionaire Bachelors Club

By: Kylie Knight

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Sheikh’s Untouched Woman

Prologue

One year ago

“Serena my love, it is time for me to choose a wife.”

Serena O’Brien stilled, one hand still tangled in her auburn waves from Raffir’s passionate kiss. She was in love with Raffir al-Jazzari, crown Sheikh from the land of Maju-ul but until this moment she hadn’t been sure of his feelings. Sure he always called her ‘my love’ or ‘love’ but the only time he truly displayed emotions was in the bedroom. Now, she smiled, he was getting ready to propose. “You must do what is expected of you,” she calmly agreed knowing that to lead his country he would need a bride at his side. She was more than prepared to leave the life she had planned back in Auckland behind in order to be with him.

He smiled, those beautiful white teeth sparkling between a set of dimples so stunning she was momentarily blinded. “I’m glad you understand.” Raffi’s posture relaxed at her understanding tone. He was prepared for tears, screams and pleading but Serena had, of course, acted true to her name.

She gave him a sweet smile like she always did, from the first day she’d met him in the gardens of Versailles. She’d only been in Paris for a week when she’d made her first trip to the famed castle, determined to soak up all the history and culture she could during her graduate studies.

Raffi startled her out of her reverie of the statutes hidden in small coves along the gardens. “Such a beauty exploring the beauty Versailles has to offer. Appropriate, I think.”

She’d turned at the sound of the deep voice with the intoxicating accent and gasped in surprise at the man before her. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, including the photos she’d studied as a History major in Australia. His ebony hair was wavy and natural. She had a feeling no curls would dare fall out of place. His eyes captivated her, they were mostly gold with flecks of brown and green and his knowing smile showed off dimples that added a boyish charm to his intimidating good looks. “This place has a lot of beauty to offer.”

“As do you, I’m sure.”

She’d noticed his smug smile and was sure he’d pegged her as an easy lay.
Boy would he be surprised,
she thought as she took the hand he offered. “Serena O’Brien,” she offered, immediately ripping her hand away from his at the electric charge that stung her.

“I am Raffir al-Jazzari, but you Serena may call me Raffi.”

And she had called him Raffi when he picked her up for their first date at a quiet restaurant overlooking the Seine and again when he’d kissed her goodnight on the steps of her apartment in the Quarter Chinois. She’d absorbed that kiss as the sights, sounds and smells of Chinatown swarmed around. It was sweet but it held a passion she had never experienced. “Wow,” was about as eloquent as she could be while her knees were threatening to upend her.

“Wow, indeed,” he’d said with a chuckle.

She knew her inexperience had shone under the onslaught of his expert kiss and her fair skin couldn’t conceal her response. “I’ve never had a kiss quite like that before,” she murmured her fingers brushing over lips that still tingled.

She’d called him Raffi when he returned day after day with flowers, gourmet macaroons, and delicious Parisian food. He’d been a better guide than she could have possibly imagined, showing her nooks and crannies of the city she would never find on her own.

From that moment on Raffi was never far from her side. He’d moved her into a nicer apartment with a view of the Eiffel Tower and lavished her with gifts. When she wasn’t in class or working on her dissertation, she was with Raffi exploring every kilometer of France and making love sweeter than she had ever known.

She knew he’d have to return to Maju-ul soon and let his CEO takeover his business interests as he took up the throne. She would still be in Paris finishing school for another year and a half and their relationship would be over.

Never in a million years had she thought she would be standing here in Paris wearing fancy silk pajamas while Raffi,
a Sheikh
was preparing to make her his wife. She smiled, after she said yes she would tell him of the baby they had created that weekend two months ago in Rome.

“I must return to Maju-ul and begin looking for a bride.”

“What?” Serena rubbed her chest, willing it to start beating again. “You’re l-l-looking for a wife? What about me?”

His head fell, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. A sign of frustration she knew well. “Serena you said you understood.”

“I understood that you needed to take a wife, I guess I misunderstood that it wouldn’t be me.”

“A man doesn’t marry his mistress.”

It was that moment when her world stopped spinning and Serena had to grasp the sturdy wooden table to keep her standing.
Mistress.
This whole time she had been his mistress and she, stupid girl that she was, thought they were falling in love. She was numb as she looked around the room, failing to recognize what her life had become,
who
she had become. It was all a mistake. She had to move, start moving to piece together the new future that awaited her. “Okay,” she said absently as she scanned the room in search of her belongings, not the toys and frill bought for a mistress. “Okay,” she repeated in the bedroom as she pulled her casual student clothes from the drawers.

“Serena,” Raffi tried to plead with her as she moved slowly around the small apartment. “Please just stop.” He grabbed her shoulders to stop her moving but her gaze focused on a spot just past him.

“Yes?”

“Dammit Serena don’t make this harder than it has to be. Do you think I want to give you up?”

Yes I do.
“You are so you must.” She pulled out of his grasp and fled to the kitchen, filling a glass with water while her hands shook too much to allow her a drink. “I’m not in the mood for company tonight.” She turned her back and closed her eyes, not moving until she heard the heavy door shut behind him.

Then Serena allowed herself to cry for the love that never was and for the baby she would raise on her own.

Raffir al-Jazzari waited impatiently for the private jet to touch down at the Wellington International Airport. He’d come to New Zealand on business both for him and Maju-ul and he was glad to be away from his homeland for a while. His father was not happy that Raffir had yet to pick a bride and take his role as leader of Maju-ul and was threatening to choose a bride if he didn’t choose soon.

He blamed Serena O’Brien for his inability to choose a woman to stand beside him as he ruled the land of his birth. The day after he’d told her he needed to find a wife he’d come to apologize because it was obvious he’d hurt her feelings. Her pale face and trembling body told him she hadn’t realized she was just a mistress, and that had gutted him. What he found though wasn’t Serena still crying and heartbroken. He found nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Inside, the apartment was far from empty. All the furniture and appliances were still there as was the laptop he’d bought because her old one was practically antique. Inside the closet he found all of the clothes he’d bought for her. Dresses, gowns, lingerie, shoes and casual wear all hung there mocking him. The drawers on the dresser were empty. All of her own clothes gone. Just like her.

He’d gone to her old apartment only to find she wasn’t there and no one at her school would give him any information on Serena’s whereabouts. He’d searched Paris high and low looking for his sweet Serena but she was gone as though he’d imagined the past year with her. Like she was just a figment of his imagination. Months later he’d returned to Maju-ul and begun his search for a wife.

Mothers and grandmothers paraded their beautiful and not so beautiful daughters, talented, rich, desperate, social climbing and indifferent daughters. It was exhausting and Raffir couldn’t get excited about a single one of them, too occupied was he with thoughts of Serena. And now here he was doing business in
her
homeland. Chances were slim he’d see her since his business was in Wellington and she was from Auckland, but he’d be lying if he said every woman with wild auburn curls didn’t immediately steal his attention.

For months he’d seen her in every flame haired woman he came across. But they were never her.

Now he had six months to find a bride or he’d spend his life with a woman chosen by his father. No way was that going to happen. He would spend the next month in Wellington on business. It was time to expand his fashion empire into this part of the world, while bringing the vibrant silks and handcrafted patterns that made Maju-ul famous, to another part of the world. He would partner with a famous mid-range French boutique in this new venture and despite his father’s objection, Raffir knew it would be lucrative for him and his country.

A glance at his watch told him he had less than an hour to meet with Francois and his interpreter. After that he would seek out the company of a woman and lose himself for a few hours.

~

Serena was running late. Her son, Rafael, was very fussy this morning and he still wasn’t used to being without Serena. When she’d left Paris she took advantage of her language skills and took a job as an interpreter because it paid well and offered plenty of time to spend with her son. It was the biggest perk of her job. Well that and learning about all the new business ventures popping up in New Zealand.

Unfortunately right now she needed to get through this heavy traffic and get to the restaurant her newest boss, Francois would be waiting to meet with his new business partner. She had no idea about this guy only that he spoke fluent English and he was a prominent businessman. Of course the mere mention of prominent businessmen brought to mind the one man she both hated and couldn’t seem to forget, especially when Rafael had the same enchanting golden eyes. Thoughts of him always made her teeth clench so she allowed the sounds of city traffic to wash over her and drown out the painful memories and the always present anger. “Much better,” she smiled and was rewarded by an open spot just a few blocks from the restaurant.

She rushed those last few blocks and entered the well-lit restaurant, taking a moment to catch her breath before she spotted Francois. Composed with a cool smile pasted on her face she approached the table. “
Bonjour
Francois.” He stood and kissed both her cheeks.

“
Bonjour
Serena.
Comment allez-vous?
”

She nodded a smile to let him know she was doing well before she took the seat to his right. They talked briefly with Francois stumbling over his English inquiring about her life and telling her about his day. “I’m glad you enjoyed the Botanic Gardens.” She enjoyed going there with Rafa, he enjoyed the vibrant colors. She checked her watch. “Your partner should be here any moment, what is his name?”

“It is Raffir al-Jazzari, crown prince of the Kingdom of Maju-ul.”

Serena stiffened at the deep voice behind her and closed her eyes.
No, it couldn’t be. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel.
She opened her eyes and immediately connected with Francois’ amused green gaze. With a professional smile on her face she turned and stood. “Mr. al-Jazzari, Serena O’Brien. I’m Mr. Pardieu’s translator.” Instead of extending her hand for a shake she offered a curt nod. This was crap, pure and utter crap. Of all the wealthy men in the world Francois had to go into business with
him.

Raffi smirked at her attempt to keep him at a distance. He would allow it for now, but not for long. “Ms. O’Brien please call me Raffir.” He turned to the older man. “Good to see you again Francois.”

Lunch went quickly, at least as quickly as any meal could go when one was seated across from the man who’d crushed her heart under his expensive designer shoes. As usual she opted out of lunch, having found early on that it was difficult to eat and translate a conversation. Francois and Raffi had great respect for each other and spoke amicably about their plans to open several high end and mid-level clothing boutiques. She thought the plans were good and a lot of New Zealanders would love to have affordable yet stylish clothing. Fortunately she was here for her language skills, not her business skills.

Francois spoke to her in rapid English, checking to make sure she was alright. He’d noticed her discomfort and she was sure he’d picked up on the tension throughout the meal and she apologized.
“Je vais bien,
” she assured him she was fine. She was. Sure, at first she was startled but now that she knew he’d be around for at least the next month she would find a way to deal with it as the professional she was. She stood and the men joined her.

“Au revoir, Serena.” He kissed both her cheeks and she offered to walk him out. A nice gesture and a great way to avoid alone time with Raffir. Unfortunately for her Raffi caught up with them at the valet station.

“Serena I was hoping you’d like to have a cup of coffee with me?”

She took in a long breath and released it before looking up at him. “No thanks.” It was simple and to the point. She just hoped it worked.

His face darkened for a moment but turned pleading. “Come on Serena I’d like to talk and to apologize. You can let me do that, can’t you?”

You’ve got to be kidding me!
“No really I can’t Mr. Al-Jazzari. Besides there’s nothing to apologize for, you were just being honest. Right?” As much as it still hurt to say those words, it took her a few months to realize that he had been telling the truth. So as much as it still hurt she didn’t need an apology. It would change nothing.

He narrowed his gaze at her, unaccustomed to this stronger version of his sweet Serena. “You’ve got your reprieve Serena. For now.” He leaned in a bit and told her, “We will talk.”

Her stomach dropped and that anxiety she’d long gotten rid of once she realized Raffi would not be coming after her, returned in full force. She turned a strained smile to Francois and bid him farewell.

Raffir couldn’t believe it. After more than a year of searching for her he’d found Serena by chance. Even for a man of his immense wealth finding one little Irish born girl from Australia had proven impossible. In fact it had shown him just how little he’d actually invested in her. An entire year together and he didn’t know much about her beyond her name and her area of study. So he’d started in Australia and came up with a few dozen Serena O’Briens but none of them
his
Serena.

Now when he’d given up on ever finding her, she appears before him like a dream.
The gods must be shining down on me
, he thought with a confident smile.

The Serena he’d seen today was different. She was grown up, clearly, but she was also stronger and harder. She hadn’t smiled once, not a real smile that lit up her entire face. She only offered up variations of the same listless professional smile. For him she hadn’t even managed that, not that he could blame her. Still it stung.

But now that he had her location he wouldn’t give up so quickly. They would talk at the very least. In fact it was all becoming very clear to Raffir now. The reason he couldn’t settle on a bride had to be residual guilt from how things had ended with Serena. If he could make things right with her—and maybe get a few more nights in her bed—he could go back home and choose a wife. He smiled, happy with his new course of action and confident Serena would forgive him after he made her understand.

Now he just had to find a way to get her alone. They were scheduled to meet every day for the next two weeks so he would see her and he
would
get that coffee date he was desperate to have.

Unfortunately for Raffir, Serena was more stubborn than an angry mule when it came to him. On Tuesday she’d flat out told him no,
again.
Wednesday she’d claimed another job across town prevented her from coffee with him and he’d reluctantly watched her go. Thursday she’d had a ‘prior engagement’ she couldn’t cancel and Friday she needed to attend a party with Francois about some hotel he was buying. He was at Saturday and no closer to achieving his goals than he was before he’d found her again.

With no plans for the weekend Raffir took to one of the hottest nightclubs in Wellington in search of a companion to help him waste a few hours. He was getting too old for the nightclub scene but it was the perfect place to find a willing woman with no expectations. A lesson he should have learned before he’d met Serena, but he’d wanted her too bad to care that she wasn’t the fling or mistress type. He shook his head thinking about how wrong he’d been about her.

He’d known then he should have left her alone to find and fall in love with some nice university student who he would treat right but leave her with no expectations. Instead Raffir had romanced her and set up expectations he was in no position to fulfill.

Now she hated him and he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

He left his hotel and was soon in the heart of Wellington nightlife. He’d spotted a club owned by a British businessman and skipped the line, quickly entering the dark club. He scanned the room, his tall frame towering over most of the young scantily clad women and men drowning in cheap cologne. Groups of women danced together hoping to attract male attention while men picked out the easiest targets for bedmates.

He was sickened and prepared to leave until he’d spotted a familiar auburn head at a table near the back. Quickly weaving through the spastic dancers he was close to her when she turned and spotted him. Eyes wide she slid off the stool and slipped down the hall where the bathrooms were. Raffir smiled,
You’re well and truly trapped now sweet Serena
.

He waited at the end of the hallway that lead back to the dance floor and waited. He would have his talk and she would listen. Tonight.

Ten minutes later Raffir was furious. Somehow she’d gotten past him and he hadn’t seen her red hair or silky green top again. The night was a bust and he’d taken the same path through the dancers and out the front of the club to go back to his hotel.

Alone.

~

Monday afternoon Serena waited outside a nondescript building in the shopping district for Francois. He wanted to take another look at this property before making a final decision. She assumed Raffi would be there, and none too pleased with her after she gave him the slip on Saturday night. She shrugged with a small smile, pleased to have beaten him even if the victory was small and short lived. It was impossible to avoid him at work but he didn’t get to claim her personal time as well.

But she knew she would have to agree to coffee soon or risk him showing up at her house. That would be disastrous and ensure she’d never be rid of him. She let out a bitter laugh. There was a time when she wanted nothing more than to be with Raffi forever. The idea of being without him had made her sick.
What a difference a year makes.

“You’re awful deep in thought for such a beautiful afternoon.”

She turned with a blank look on her face. “Mr. al-Jazzari.” She saw his jaw clench before a smile transformed his face from merely handsome to heart stopping.

“Serena you’re looking very well.” He stroked his chin. “I trust you won’t run out on me today?”