The Sheikh's Pretend Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 2) (9 page)

"Our family physician." Raz explained. "She was satisfied that you only need some days of rest. And then you'll be fine."

Ella recalled waking from sleep to see an attractive, elegant woman peering down at her. There had been a genuine compassion in the way the doctor had treated Ella.

At least, the doctor had been a woman, Ella thought.
 

"Some days of rest?" Ella protested.

Raz nodded. "Doctor Irena thinks you've just suffered a few contusions. The stress of the accident will wear off after a few days."

"And where am I to recuperate?" Ella asked, although she already knew that answer.

Raz made a casual gesture with his hand. "Why, here, of course," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"In your palace?" Ella asked with a frown.

Raz grinned. "Of course. You're not ready to be taken back to the city."

"I feel fine," Ella protested. Who did he think he was? He couldn't just force her to stay in his palace like some prisoner. That wasn't how the world worked in this century.

"The doctor's orders are clear. You need rest and then once you've regained your strength, we can drive you back."

"I feel okay," Ella insisted. She tried to push herself up from the pillows, but for some odd reason, the muscles in her arms just wouldn't co-operate.

Raz leaned closer and rested a hand on the side of the bed. Ella caught his scent and saw the dampness in his hair. He must have showered just before coming to check on her.
 

His eyes were filled with concern. Ella settled back against the pillow and sighed. "Maybe I just need to close my eyes a while," she said.

Raz nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I think that's a good idea," he replied. Raz shifted the pillow for her.
 

As she leaned her head back, she was suddenly aware that she was wearing an unfamiliar gown in bed. Ella peered up at Raz. His eyes met hers, a slight inquiry in them.

"How did I get changed?"

Raz's eyes narrowed inquisitively. "What?"

Ella pulled on the gown at her shoulder. "This. Who dressed me in this?" She wasn't sure she wanted to hear the reply.

Raz's eyes widened with understanding. "Oh, yes. That was one of the maids."

"So, we're not alone in the palace?" Ella asked.

Raz smiled. "There's a houseful of servants here," he explained.

Ella sighed, and Raz looked at her. "You're relieved?" he asked.

Ella shook her head quickly. "No. I just wondered who had changed me into this gown."

Raz's head dipped down until it was only a short distance from her. "Did you think I had undressed you?" he asked.

Ella's jaw tightened, and she glared at him. "If you had, there would have been trouble," she declared.

Raz grinned. "What a pity. That would have been interesting," he said standing up straight and gazing down at her. She could see a hint of the same desire she had seen before in his eyes. But, as quickly as it had appeared, Raz seemed to gain control of himself, as if he realized that now wasn't the time for such things.

Ella bit her tongue. It would be no use letting him goad her. There would plenty of time later for making the situation between them both crystal clear.

Raz turned and started toward the door. He paused and looked back at Ella. "Get some rest. Then, I can show you around the palace. And, you can eat something. I'll get the cook to prepare something simple."

Ella wanted to reply with some spiky comment, show him she didn't need looking after, but for some reason, the words failed to come. Instead, a heaviness settled on her, and she closed her eyes.

The last thing she saw before her eyelids drooped down was the figure of the sheikh closing the door behind himself. And her final thought, before sinking into a welcome, deep sleep, was that the sheikh looked mighty pleased to have Ella temporarily in his possession in his palace by the sea.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Raz closed the door behind him and leaned backward, resting his shoulders against the carved wooden panel. He let out a great sigh that he hoped Ella hadn't heard from inside the bedroom.

Had she seen how worried he was? He'd done his best to disguise his concern, but he wasn't sure he'd done a good enough job. Ella was pretty perceptive. Raz was certain she could read his mind. Or, at least, his body language.

And, speaking of body language, Raz swallowed when he recalled how Ella's eyes had drifted over his torso as he had leaned down to make her more comfortable in bed. Those beautiful eyes had widened imperceptibly, and nothing she could have done would have disguised that expression of interest.

Raz gazed up at the decorated ceiling of the hallway and shook his head. He needed time to think. This was all happening too quickly. He started down the corridor until he came to the wide staircase which led down to the ground floor of the palace. His steps echoed in the cavernous space as he walked down the steps, his hand on the cool marble banister.

Raz was proud of this place. It had been built to his exact specifications five years before. Here, on the coastal promontory, far enough away from the city, Raz could escape and take a chance to relax and think about his hectic life. Of course, he had brought female friends to this place. On many occasions, but never permanently, never for more than a few days at a time. This was his private, personal space, and he didn't allow anyone to cross his barriers. The risks were too great.

Raz reached the bottom of the staircase and paused. To one side was the large dining room with its exquisite views out to sea; to the other side the opulently furnished sitting room, where Raz liked to spend his quiet time, reading or listening to his favorite music.
 

From below, he heard the sounds of dinner being prepared. He had a team of servants, each of whom fully understood that Raz was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. They were happy to comply with his strict demands because Raz was a fair-minded man who treated his servants with the respect they were due.

Raz made his way into the dining room to check on preparations. He hoped that Ella would be strong enough to come down after her rest. Raz examined the long table that filled the middle of the room. Two places had been set, exactly as he had instructed. At the far end was the place set for Ella, with silver cutlery, crystal champagne glasses, although he knew she wouldn't be drinking alcohol. Those were the doctor's orders.

At the other end, the head of the table, was Raz's place. Set out like Ella's, immediately opposite her, so that he could spend every moment doing exactly what he most wished to do.
 

Watching Ella.

Raz went to his chair at the top of the table and flopped down on the high-backed leather seat. He rested his arms on the carved wooden sides and thought about what had happened back there at the beach.

When Raz had finally caught up with Ella, he had been alarmed to see that she wasn't alone on the road. It had been as he had expected. Karim's bodyguard had cut the distance between himself and Ella's car. Raz had been grateful for the power and speed of his sports car. For once it was good for something other than catching the eye of prospective female partners.
 

He'd hammered his foot down to the floor, intent on preventing the dark car from doing any harm to Ella. But, he had been too late, although not too late to feel the chill of horror that shot up his spine when he'd seen Ella's car careen off the road and tumble down the embankment onto the beach.

Raz had roared his outrage at that awful sight.
 

By the time he'd skidded and braked to a halt on the road next to where Ella had slid down onto the beach, Raz was frantic with fear, his heart racing, adrenalin coursing through his system.

He'd stumbled and fallen down the embankment when he'd seen Ella's car jammed up to its wheel hubs in the sand. A steady thin line of steam had been rising from the engine.

Sitting at the dinner table, Raz almost groaned again as he recalled the sight of Ella as he'd wrenched open the driver's door. She had been barely conscious, and he'd suddenly feared the worst. Her beautiful, elegant head had been lolling weakly to one side, and her eyelids had been half closed.

Raz had managed to persuade Ella to stay awake for him as he'd lifted her out of the car. It had felt glorious to hold her in his arms, but any satisfaction he'd felt had been immediately tempered by his concern for her well-being. He'd eased her into the passenger seat of his car and leapt into his own driver's seat, realizing there was only one place to take Ella; one safe place where she could be attended to.

His palace was only a short drive from where Ella had been forced off the road. During the entire journey, he'd called out to Ella, desperate to hold her attention, prevent from falling into a dangerous sleep.

Finally, he'd arrived at the palace. He'd never been so grateful to see the high white walls, the towers, the welcoming gateway through which he'd driven his car, skidding to a halt in front of the steps which led up to the front doors.

The servants had come running and helped him take Ella up to the bedroom where she now lay. Raz had left Alana, his principal housekeeper, to attend to Ella. He had no doubt that the elderly woman would make Ella as comfortable as possible while they waited for the doctor to arrive from the city. When the doctor had come, Raz had breathed a sigh of relief when Ella had been given a clean bill of health.

Raz gazed at the empty glass and thought to fill it with the expensive bottle of champagne which sat on the sideboard near the doorway. He shook his head. This was a time for clear heads, not minds befuddled by alcohol.
 

Raz knew he had to figure out what to do about Ella. Now that he'd been reassured she would likely recover with no ill effects, the only thing he needed to understand was what to do while she remained in the palace.

Raz recalled the image of Ella's car tumbling from the highway. It had to have been Karim's man who had done that. He might claim it had been an accident, or try to blame Ella herself. But, Raz knew what it had really been.

It had been a warning.

To Ella and to Raz.

Karim must have known that Raz had an interest in Ella. Karim had ways of knowing what his rivals were up to. And, Raz was most certainly one of Karim's rivals. Maybe Ella had been right all along. Perhaps Karim had questions to answer.

Raz felt a twist of rage at the idea of Karim sending one of his men to scare Ella. It could so easily have backfired. Without Raz there, Ella could have come to serious harm.
 
Raz was not willing to allow that.

Ella Brant had found her way into Raz's soul in a way that no other woman had ever done. He could not understand it. They'd only just met, and yet her mere presence was enough to send emotion coursing through his body.

Raz ran his hand through his dark hair.

Maybe he needed another cold shower, just like the one he'd taken before visiting Ella. The passion and the rage warred within him, and Raz feared he wouldn't be able to settle, or find the usual peace that filled his spirit every time he came to the palace.

Raz walked to the french doors and threw them open, stepping out onto the balcony. He leaned against the balustrade, feeling the cool marble on his skin.
 

The sun was lower now, and it would be dark soon. Raz gazed out across the emerald sea, savoring the sight of the waves easing in toward the rocks below. The sound of the waves was like a drug to Raz. It calmed his nerves. And, right now, those nerves were jangling.

Raz glanced up at the window of the bedroom in which Ella lay sleeping. A smile creased his lips. It felt good to have her in the house, even under these circumstances. He pictured how she had looked, lying in the bed, the heavily patterned blanket drawn up over her shoulders. She'd be breathing soft now, safe and comfortable in the warmth of the bed. The same bed he wanted to be in, right now.
 

But, Ella was here under his protection. He'd saved her from a desperate fate, and in doing so, fate had handed him an opportunity. Raz knew she would have to remain in his care for at least a few days, possibly a week. And, he knew that it wasn't going to be easy to persuade Ella to stay that long. Knowing her, she would try to leave as soon as possible, once she felt fully recovered.

If that was the case, then Raz knew he had only a limited time. If he was to show her the depth of his passion he would have to tread lightly. Ella was as spirited a woman as he'd ever known.
 

If Raz was to convince her that his passion for her was real, then he was in for a truly difficult and challenging time.

CHAPTER NINE

Ella awoke with a start. Darkness had fallen outside. The french doors were still open and the cool night air swept into the room. The sound of the waves was still as constant as before, like a soothing balm for her wounded body.

The only light in the room was a small lamp which had been lit on a side table by the bed. Ella sat up and took a deep breath. She wondered what time it was. Looking at the small clock on the other bedside table she saw that it was almost midnight.

Ella's stomach rumbled, and she self-consciously clutched at her middle, glad that no-one else had heard the noise. She noticed that someone had set her suitcase on the floor next to the entrance to the walk-in wardrobe. They must have driven to her car and brought her luggage to the palace.

Ella threw back the blanket and turned to sit on the side of the bed. She touched her bare feet on the thick, ornately styled rug, savoring the softness of the carpet against her toes.
 

Ella stood and felt suddenly giddy. She reached out and held onto the thick wooden bedpost, wrapping her fingers around its dark, carved thickness. After a moment, the unsteadiness subsided and she walked out into the center of the room.

Ella went to the open doors that led to the balcony. She stepped out onto the balcony and peered into the darkness. The light cast from the palace illuminated the rocks below, where she saw a jetty stretching out into the sea. Moored at the end of the jetty, and lit up from within, was a huge motor-yacht that looked like something out of a lifestyle documentary about the lives of the rich and famous.