The Sheik and the Slave (14 page)

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Authors: Nicola Italia

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No,
my lord. I am sorry, but no word yet has been heard from them.

Mohammed shuddered and lowered his head.

Leave me,

he said.


Please
my lord, let me stay with you,

she requested. Bashasha feared for his peace of mind.


Leave
me,

he told her
coldly.

***

Katharine had no way of knowing, as she stepped away from
Fajer and Yasmeen, that she walked into even greater peril. A desert sandstorm
was brewing. The storms were known to be dangerous and even life-threatening.

Sandstorms were common in the desert regions, and a storm
could move large volumes of sand unexpectedly. If dust or sand entered the
body, it could cause illness; untreated sand in the eyes could lead to
blindness.

The sand swirled and twisted around her and she recalled the
harem women talking about the danger of the storm. Katharine continued to walk
through the sand until it became impossible. The sand spit into her eyes, her
mouth, her hair, and her ears. Katharine knew she would die in this cursed
desert, never to be found. She fell to her knees and then collapsed. Her last
thought before she sank into oblivion wasn

t
of the green trees of England or the deserts of Arabia; it was about the dark,
sensuous eyes of Mohammed, and his mouth as he kissed her.

***

Yasmeen arched her body as one of the Moors settled his
large muscular body over her delicate one. With no words or preliminaries, he
had thrust her legs apart and shoved his large cock inside her. She had fallen
asleep directly after the night

s
fun, so her cunt was still filled with the Moor

s
sperm and her own juices. The Moor grunted as his cock filled her, and Yasmeen
cried lightly as not to wake the other two men, although secretly, she wanted
to wake the other two and have a repeat of the night before. The Moor grasped
her honey-colored thighs hard as he continued to pound into her.

***

The two teenagers were fighting as they returned to the
large main tent in the desert.


I
think she

s dead!

said the younger, Bikr.
At twelve years old, he was given to exaggerations and enjoyed making scenes to
embarrass his mother and father.


She

s not dead, Bikr. She

s alive and we need to
tell Father,

spoke
the older, Saber. Saber was 15 years old and his father

s pride and joy. As Bikr scampered off to
find more trouble, Saber went to find his father.

Saber and his father Majeed remained seated on their camels
as they looked at the form half-covered in sand. She was almost buried and her
face was underneath her arm. She looked ragged. Both men couldn

t guess how long she had
been in the desert.


A
woman from another tribe?

asked young Saber.


Could
be,

Majeed said,
nodding at his son

s
question. There were many Bedouin tribes such as his that wandered the desert.
Some were linked by family, and others by marriage, but rarely did anyone
venture into the great desert when a sandstorm was upon them; they knew better.
This storm that passed had been raging for two days.


Why
would she go out in such a storm, Father?

asked Saber.


Perhaps
she was lost,

Majeed said. He dismounted and Saber followed.

We

ll take her to the camp
and allow the women to attend her.

Majeed walked to the form and knelt beside her. When he turned
her over in his arms, Saber gasped. Majeed looked down at the woman he held and
was also shocked. The woman had golden-blonde hair that blended into the desert

s sands, and her skin was
the color of cream. Her face was lovely and, against his will, Majeed could
feel himself stir.

He lifted her easily and settled himself and the girl on his
camel.


Come,
Saber,

he said.

Rana, the first and only wife of Sheik Majeed, was charged
to look after the young girl. Since Rana had given Majeed two sons and a daughter,
Majeed had never thought to take any more wives. He had only ever wanted sons
to help and continue with his tribal duties, and Rana had done her duty by
providing him sons. Since Majeed was not a sexual man, he was content to rule
over his tribe with only one wife. In addition, he knew of many sheiks who had
large harems and many wives, and the trouble the women caused was not worth the
sexual pleasure.

Rana

s
brothers and their families lived with them, and together with all the
offspring, they lived a nomadic existence. As the tribal leader, Majeed was
intelligent and thoughtful, though he owed allegiance to his father

s family as well as his
wife

s.

Rana bathed the girl and dressed her in a simple dark blue
abaya. As Katharine slept, Rana bathed the girl

s
forehead with cool cloths and tried to keep her comfortable.

Rana looked over the girl

s
lithe frame with envy. Rana had never been a beauty. She was the youngest
daughter of a neighboring sheik and had grown up coddled by her father. Though
Rana

s sisters had
been beauties, Rana was not, although she always had been sweet and kind. She
was a devout Muslim, a loving mother, and caring wife. When Majeed had wanted
to marry all those years ago, Rana thought he would certainly pick one of her
sisters. But Majeed was not interested in beauty and found it distracting.
Instead, he had settled for Rana and never regretted his choice.

Rana had bathed the girl with the help of the women and all
had admired the girl

s
face and figure. Her golden hair had been cleaned and pinned back, and her oval
face had been washed and creamed with almond oil. Rana could not help but think
the foreign woman was more beautiful than all of her sisters and any woman she
had ever seen. Perhaps it was the uniqueness of her creamy skin and hair, but
she could not help but wonder if Majeed would desire her.

Majeed came into the room quietly. The women had gone to
tend to the evening meal and Majeed wanted to see the young beauty. She lay
asleep on the pillows and blankets inside his wife

s tent. She was dressed modestly in a blue
abaya, but Majeed could see her nipples taut and stiff through the material. He
knelt beside her as he had done in the desert. His fingers itched to touch her
and he couldn

t stop
himself.

Majeed was an attractive man in his thirties, tall and
muscular, with brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a beard, which aged him, but
he was an attractive man never given to impulses until now.

His fingers encircled her nipples and Katharine moaned in
her sleep. He wanted to touch her more and taste her, but his honor held him
back.

Katharine was startled awake and batted his hand away.


Don

t touch me,

she said.

Majeed was dazzled when she opened her eyes. Her eyes were
blue, like the Arabian Sea.

Katharine

s
head spinned as she tried to grasp where she was while Majeed stepped away from
her. She was frightened, but as her head continued to spin, she murmured,

Help me,

and sank into the
pillows and oblivion.

Majeed stared at the sleeping beauty as she seemed to faint,
but was distracted by a noise and turned toward it.


Rana!

he said. Rana

s eyes were accusing; she
wore a pained expression on her face.


My
lord,

was all she
said, and she exited the tent quickly.

Majeed cursed the beauty. He had been right. Women,
especially beautiful ones, were only trouble. He looked down at her. A woman of
her unusual coloring was obviously not a native Arab. She must therefore be a
slave, concubine or a foreign visitor. In any case, he owed it to his wife and
his own sanity to find her rightful place and be rid of her.

He sighed. He would take Saber and a few of his men and
visit the neighboring sheiks to see if anyone knew anything about the pale
beauty.

***

Mohammed sank his head into his hands. It had been a week
with no sign of her. The second riders had come back exhausted and with no
word. It had been an excruciating wait and one that held no satisfaction. He
decided that either Yasmeen had secured a passage for her and sent her away or
Katharine had been sold into slavery, which was a frightening thought. Even for
someone with Katharine

s
spirit, the world of slavery was evil. In the harem, she had been relatively
safe from everyone except himself and the wrath of Yasmeen. In the outside
world, though, the ship

s
captain would have her, the sailors would have a go at her, and by the end of
the voyage, she would be sold to a dirty brothel or worse. Mohammed couldn

t stand it. His thoughts
were dark.

He needed to get away. He had many brothers but his favorite
was the farthest away, on the edge of the great desert. He would travel there
as quickly as possible.

***

Katharine was seated inside the tent as she picked at her
food. She knew Majeed

s
eyes were on her as they always were. Rana was visiting her family in a nearby
tent and, as Majeed had dismissed the servants, they remained alone.

Katharine stole glances at Majeed while he was eating. He
was a tall man, golden-skinned, with brown hair and eyes. He reminded Katharine
of Mohammed, except Majeed was slimmer in build and his beard made him look
much older. Majeed was attractive, but he did not have Mohammed

s dark looks and
seductive gazes. Katharine shivered at the memories of his possession of her.


Are
you cold, beauty?

Majeed asked quietly from across the many pillows as they both remained seated.


No,
I

m well. I wish you
would call me by name. Katharine,

she said, not wanting to seem contrary.

She knew this sheik had only one wife and no harem. He was a
quiet, studious man who relished his power and yielded it extremely wisely. He
was greatly respected, but she worried he would take notice of her and want her
for himself. As a respected sheik, no one would deny him.


Where
did you learn to speak Arabic?

Majeed asked her.


From
living in a palace and serving another sheik, which is where I want to be
returned,

she
answered. Katharine had tried to talk to him about being returned to Mohammed
before, but he would never let her raise the subject.


You
don

t like it here,
beauty?

he asked.
Majeed

s voice had lowered
and he moved toward her.


I
would like,

she
began.


Yes?

he said. Majeed lowered
himself to sit beside her. She gazed up at him with eyes that were blue and
wide. His palm touched her face and it was like silk. He hardened at the
thought of taking her right there in his tent. The thought of her creamy thighs
spread wide as she accepted his cock spurred him on.


Please,

she said. Katharine
tried to move away from the close proximity, but he caught her in his arms.


You
were this man

s
wife?

Majeed
touched her golden hair, marveled at the color.


No,
but,

she started to
explain, breathlessly.


Servant?

Majeed pulled her closer
to him as he examined her features.


Please,

she said again, and
tried to edge away from him.


Perhaps
a concubine? A woman used to giving away her body?

he asked. His hands moved over the abaya

s fabric.


No!

she exclaimed. Katharine
colored at the question and scooted away from his touch.

 

I
want you to stay here as my guest,

Majeed said confidently. His eyes were intelligent and kind, and Katharine saw
that he was a good man.

 

Will
you send me back where I belong?

she asked.


Of
course. But you might find out that you belong here,

he added. Majeed was bewitched by her
words, her accent so foreign yet speaking the Arabic tongue, and a pale body,
golden hair, and eyes like the Arabian Sea.


No.
I don

t think so,

Kat shook her head.

Her words angered him. A slave had no say, and he expected
she was a slave. He had never wanted a woman as he did this pale beauty.


We
shall see,

he said.
He strode angrily from the tent.

Rana cornered her husband outside the tent.

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