Beauty and the Sheikh Read online

  How was it possible she addled his brain so? No woman should have that kind of power. She was far too skilled a seductress.

  Rafiq slowed the kiss, giving himself time to regain complete control before lifting his head. Holly’s eyes remained closed and she cried out in protest, then her lips pressed together and she made a noise of disbelief. She was probably angry with herself and her reaction.

  “I have work to do, habiba,” he murmured, touching his thumb against her swollen bottom lip. “You have freedom to explore my palace, but do not leave without the chaperone of one of my guards.”

  Her lashes fluttered up, but there was no desire or disorientation in her eyes. It seemed she’d taken the time to gather her emotions as well. “So I’m to be watched over like a child then?”

  His lips tightened as darker thoughts flitted through his head. “My country is quite different than America. There are always threats against me and those who are close to me. And despite the luxuries of the city, the land itself can be dangerous for those more vulnerable and unfamiliar with it.”

  “So women are to be locked inside? Submissive to their men and hidden away?”

  “Is that what you think?” He arched a brow. “Where did you find such an ignorant stereotype?”

  “I have no idea what to think of Raljahar.” She lifted her chin to meet his gaze, her eyes flashing with frustration. “My assumptions are mostly based upon the man who rules it.”

  He smoothed his thumb over her mouth once more, enjoying the way it trembled beneath his touch. “Well, habiba, you will have three months to get to know me and my country quite intimately.”

  “I’m fine getting to know your country, but I think I’ll pass on getting to know any part of you intimately. Until I leave, I’ll be marking off the days on the calendar like a kid counting down to Christmas.”

  He didn’t doubt it for a moment, but her comments had gotten under his skin, and despite his earlier decision he wanted to clear up one misunderstanding. “One more thing, Holly. I have no harem. So when you’re in my bed, you’ll find my appetite quite virile.” He released her once more and turned to walk away. “I shall return for supper.”

  “I would like to explore the city.”

  The guard stationed outside her room stared at her as if she’d sprouted a second head.

  Holly stood in the doorway and folded her arms across her chest. She’d been in her room for two hours already and was nearly mad with anxiety, wondering what was going on with her brother. She’d already spent a good amount of time checking email, and sending one to her neighbor begging him to keep Butterball, her cat, for a few months instead of days.

  “I am not a prisoner here,” she continued. “Unless Rafiq has said otherwise?”

  The man flinched when she said Rafiq’s name; obviously he still did not approve of her referencing the Sheikh in such a disrespectful manner. “You are, of course, free to go outside the palace, Miss Winchester. So long as you are accompanied by bodyguards.”

  She’d expected nothing less, and if it meant having a bit of freedom then she’d take it. “Fine. Let me grab my purse and I’ll be ready in a moment.”

  Nearly a half hour later, Holly found herself immersed in one of the city’s most popular markets. She’d visited the markets briefly during her first visit to Raljahar but had left wanting to explore more.

  Everywhere she looked there were vibrant colors from clothing, scarves, and blankets, not to mention the produce, while the smell of spices filled the air.

  The walkway was narrow and crowded, with booths on either side to tempt their wares. Somewhere down the street music was being played, and she just barely bit back the temptation to start moving her hips to the enthralling eastern notes. It reminded her of the belly dancing classes she’d taken for fitness a few years back. The eastern culture had always intrigued her.

  She’d left the palace in a foul mood, but somehow Holly couldn’t help but become caught up in the excitement and bustle of the market.

  While passing another stand, a woman with a small child beside her called out to her in Arabic, holding up a bright red scarf.

  Holly shook her head, wishing she could communicate better.

  “You are English?” the seller called out.

  “American.”

  The woman beamed. “Welcome to Raljahar. My name is Faiza. I have a scarf that would look lovely with your coloring, ma’am.”

  Smiling faintly, Holly moved to take the scarf from the woman. “I’m Holly. And you speak English perfectly.”

  “Thank you. My father is English, and so I am bi-lingual. My daughter also speaks.”

  Holly kneeled down by the girl and smiled. “Is it true? Can you speak English?”

  The girl, probably around four or five, clung to her mother’s leg and stared shyly at Holly. “Yes,” she finally whispered.

  Holly’s smile widened. “What is your name?”

  “Inas.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Inas. You speak English just as well as your mommy.” Holly straightened and gave a rueful smile. “I wish I spoke your native language, but I only know a few words.”

  The woman gave her a considering look. “Will you be in Raljahar long?”

  Too long. Far too long.

  “A few months.” She slid a glance over the colorful clothing in the woman’s stand and sighed. Since she would be here a while, perhaps she should try to blend in more?

  There were skirts and long-sleeved blouses of various colors and fabrics. Beautifully woven, some with beads or designed with gorgeous patterns.

  “You like the purple skirt, ma’am?”

  “I like several of them. And please, call me Holly.” She bit her lip and then nodded. “I think I’d like to buy a few things, actually, including the scarf.”

  Before too long, Holly had searched through the array of clothing and filled a large bag with purchases.

  Fiaza handed her the bags and smiled warmly. “Thank you, Holly. You will look beautiful in them. And if you truly want to learn to speak our language, I teach daily classes at my home to tourists or non-Arab-speaking westerners. I gave you my card, which has my contact information and the hours.”

  From behind her, Holly heard the bodyguard give a small grunt of disapproval.

  Fiaza’s gaze widened, as if she’d just realized the man who wore the palace’s uniform was escorting Holly. “But of course, that may not be appropriate,” she said on a rush. “It was presumptuous of me—”

  “Not at all. I will definitely keep your warm offer in mind. Thank you, Fiaza.”

  The bodyguard finally cleared his throat and gave her a reproachful look. “Miss Winchester, we should leave. It is approaching supper time.”

  Biting back a sigh, Holly nodded. For a couple of hours she’d let herself enjoy a bit of freedom, speak with the people of Raljahar and explore a popular marketplace. The city fascinated her, almost more this time than it had last time.

  As much as she loathed Rafiq, she couldn’t seem to hate his country. The people were so warm and friendly, all full of stories and eager to help her explore.

  Holly allowed herself to be escorted out of the marketplace and into the sleek black car that whisked her back toward the palace. Her forced home for the next few months. Oh my God, if she really thought about it she got nauseous. It was far too overwhelming.

  As they approached the palace, her breath once again caught at how magnificent the structure was. The cream building was a mass of arches and columns, architecturally gorgeous, its symbolism awe-inspiring.

  When she’d come here two years ago she’d been equally enchanted, probably because she’d never met a real sheikh before.

  Her smile faded.

  At least now she knew just how overrated the experience was.

  Chapter 5

  Back in the palace, Holly spent the rest of the day in her room. She had no desire to go explore the palace any further—especially with Rafiq’s watchdogs sha
dowing her every move.

  Exhaustion had finally taken over. She’d been lying on the bed for the last hour, trying to nap, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. She couldn’t stop worrying about her brother or thinking about what had happened at breakfast with Rafiq. The market had been a good distraction, but once she was alone again with her thoughts, it all came rushing back.

  Just remembering what had happened at breakfast sent a wave of shame and humiliation through her. How could her body have betrayed her like that?

  It was hard not to resent Rafiq. To compare him to the men in the career she’d walked away from.

  Her time modeling had been short. She’d started at eighteen and was out just before her twenty-second birthday. All too often she’d met men who'd wanted to exchange sexual favors for advancement and otherwise impossible opportunities.

  She’d been so young and sheltered that at first she’d been shocked by the advances, then gradually had become more angry and jaded the longer she’d stayed in the industry. It had turned her off of men and dating completely. Until she’d met Rafiq…and now the Sheikh was trying to use her the same way. Granted, he wasn’t outright asking for sex—though he was quite upfront with his intent to seduce her.

  At one time, she never would have thought him capable of falling into the same category as the other men. When she’d met him he’d been so distinctive and compelling, mysterious, even while charming. But he’d been playing her like a well-tuned violin. He’d probably never had any intentions of allowing the photo shoot to happen in his country, had simply drawn out his response time to see if she’d go to bed with him.

  Thank God she hadn’t. It would have made her humiliation all that much more substantial when he’d thrown them out of his country.

  “I am such an idiot.”

  She was exhausted and needed sleep, and yet her mind couldn’t stop thinking about Rafiq.

  The sound of the door clicking open was the only warning she had before the man who occupied her thoughts strode into her room.

  Holly sat up on the bed, heat warming her cheeks. “Maybe you could try and knock first next time?” For goodness sake, what if she’d been changing?

  Rafiq ignored her sharp remark, the white robes swirling about his legs as he made long strides across the room toward her.

  Her indignation died as she spotted the scowl of irritation on his face. Had she done something to upset him? But of course that was a silly question. When hadn’t she?

  “I hear you went to the marketplace today.”

  “Was that against the rules?” She tilted her head. “Perhaps I heard wrong, but I thought you said as long as I brought one of your henchman with me I would be allowed to leave the palace.”

  “No, you heard right.”

  “Then why have you come, if not to berate me for going into the city?”

  His expression darkened. “Your brother is being brought to the palace.”

  Holly was off the bed in a flash, rushing toward the door with her heart pounding a mile a minute with excitement.

  Rafiq caught her arm and swung her around before she could leave the room. “I can see where you and your brother have your similarities. Both of you are brazen enough to try and force your way into my palace. Apparently he slipped away from the guard escorting him to the airport.”

  “Please, let me see him, Rafiq,” she pleaded huskily. “I have to know he’s all right.”

  “Still you think he has been mistreated?” Irritation flashed across his face. “He is quite well, Holly, and he is only being allowed to see you—and briefly at that—because I have made the allowance.”

  She swallowed her pride and gave an acquiescent nod. “Of course. Thank you.”

  “Holly!” Her brother’s voice carried through the halls of the palace. Strained and angry.

  “Rafiq.” She tugged at her arm, trying to free herself. “Please.”

  “Remember, habiba—” he quieted his words, “—that you must be very convincing in your appearance that you are my lover now.”

  He couldn’t be serious. Her stomach sank. “Even to my own brother?”

  “Especially to him.” Rafiq leaned closer. “If he suspected for one moment what the truth is, who’s to say he wouldn’t take it to the nearest media outlet?”

  There was truth to Rafiq’s words, she acknowledged silently. Also, if Andrew realized what she’d given in exchange for his freedom, he’d never agree, would probably demand to be placed back in jail instead.

  “All right. I’ll be…convincing.” She nearly choked on that last word.

  “I have no doubt.” His gaze slid to her mouth. “One thing before we see him.”

  “What is it?”

  “This.”

  His mouth covered hers. Hard and demanding, no slow seduction this time but a blatant move to show her she was truly his possession now.

  So shocked by the suddenness of the sensual attack, Holly couldn’t even bring herself to struggle against the heat and need that spilled from the broken dam inside her. She forgot where she was and the circumstances that had brought her here. For just a moment she drowned in Rafiq’s incendiary kiss.

  When he lifted his mouth from hers, she had to tighten her grip on his shoulders to keep from stumbling.

  His gaze was dark with heated possessiveness. “Perfect. That will help the situation appear more believable.”

  Ouch. For a moment she’d thought he’d been caught up with the need to touch her again, that maybe he’d thought about her throughout the day as much as she had him.

  But no, he’d simply wanted to give the appearance of a lovers’ tryst interrupted, and now with her swollen mouth and flushed cheeks, it was entirely believable.

  “Come.” He tugged her from the room and closed the door behind them. He called out instructions in Arabic, and a moment later her brother rushed down the hallway, bracketed by guards.

  Relief seeped through her and she cried out his name and ran into his arms.

  “Holly, sweetheart.” He caught her immediately, drawing her into a protective embrace.

  “Are you okay, Andrew?” She pulled away after a moment to glance him over.

  His clothes were rumpled and his eyes were bloodshot, but he looked otherwise well. Had he been drinking since his release? Her stomach knotted at the possibility.

  “God, Holly, what are you even doing in Raljahar?” Andrew’s gaze slid over her, lingering on her mouth. “What has this monster done to you?”

  His choice of words did have her flinching this time, and without turning around she could feel the dangerous ferocity radiating off of Rafiq.

  “Done to me?” She tried to keep her tone light and followed it with an easygoing laugh. “Nothing. Rafiq is a friend.”

  “A friend?” Andrew’s mouth twisted and he gave a snort of disbelief. “I don’t believe that for a second, little sis.”

  “Then for once you are wise,” Rafiq’s steely words cut through the air. “Because our relationship exceeds the bounds of friendship, wouldn’t you agree, habiba?”

  Holly bit the inside of cheek, then gave a slow nod. Of course he would accept nothing more than her agreement that she was his lover. She turned to face Rafiq once more and when he held out a hand in a clear gesture for her to return to his side, she really had no other choice.

  It was meant to display power, to prove his hold on her. And it worked.

  Extracting herself from her brother’s embrace, she returned to Rafiq. His arm slid around her waist in a deliberate show of possession.

  “You bastard.” Andrew lunged forward, but was restrained by Rafiq’s men. “My sister would never become involved with someone like you.”

  When Rafiq’s guards moved toward Andrew threateningly, Rafiq waved them back.

  “You would do well to remember to whom you speak to,” he reminded the younger man, not raising his voice, but the hint of menace was enough to get his point across. “You are still in my country, being uncommonly r
eleased after committing a crime that is punishable by nearly a decade in prison.”

  Andrew’s face leeched of color and he stumbled back, the fight seeming to seep from him.

  “It’s true your sister came to Raljahar to plead for your release,” Rafiq said, keeping his tone glacial. “But it is not the first time we’ve met, and since her arrival, our relationship has picked up where it previously left off.”

  Andrew’s mouth gaped and he looked from Holly to Rafiq in dismay.

  Believe him, Andrew. Just believe him.

  “Is this true?” Andrew asked his sister unevenly. “You’re involved with the Sheikh?”

  Holly was silent for a moment and beneath his touch Rafiq felt her muscles tighten. Would she back out of their agreement? Falter now with her brother so near?

  His gut twisted at the possibility of her walking away—of her trying to find a loophole in their bargain.

  “Yes, it’s true,” Holly said huskily after a moment’s pause. “We met back when I was modeling. The circumstances we parted under weren’t ideal…” She paused. “When I returned to Raljahar to plead your case, I realized how much I still cared for Rafiq. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to finally be able to make amends.”

  Nearly struck dumb by how convincing an appearance Holly was putting on, Rafiq allowed an intimate smile onto his face as he stared down at her. But not for one moment did he convince himself Holly ever had, or ever would, care for him.

  She’d been as skilled an actress then as she was today.

  “And I enjoy the way you make your amends.” He lifted her hand and traced her knuckles.

  Her cheeks filled prettily with color and he heard the hitch in her breathing, but her eyes held the faintest bit of resentment when she met his gaze.

  The clearing of a throat had them both turning back to Andrew, who was watching them both closely but with less skepticism.

  “You’re serious then?” Andrew pressed on almost hopefully, his gaze darting between the two of them. “You haven’t just struck some deal with the guy for my benefit, have you, Holly?”