The Sheikh's Last Mistress. Rachael Thomas
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space, but his dark gaze held hers, mesmerising her.
‘You shouldn’t hide behind your work.’ His voice was deep and sensuous and that little tremor she’d felt when she’d first seen him slipped down her spine again.
‘I don’t.’ She couldn’t help how defensive her voice sounded. ‘I love my work. It’s more than just work and that’s why I’m here. I came here for your horse, not because my stepmother arranged it or because you demanded it, but to help your horse.’
For a moment she thought she’d gone too far, crossed that invisible line of protocol which she had realised surrounded this man within minutes of her arrival in Kezoban. But what she’d said was true; she was here primarily because he’d implied that she was the stallion’s only hope.
The sound of insects from the darkness of the garden and the heady scents of the exotic flowers wrapped around her, making everything, from the man before her to the setting in which she’d just enjoyed the most delicious meal, even more romantic. She was tired from travelling yet her body fizzed with a new and strange fiery need.
‘For that I am indebted to you. Tomorrow you will begin your work with Majeed and I am sure a spirited yet sympathetic woman such as you can help him.’
He moved towards her, his handsome face set in a firm mask of control, his dark eyes almost piercing hers. Was he teasing her? No, of course not. He was a powerful man, a ruler and used to getting what he wanted at all times.
‘I’m looking forward to seeing the stallion. It will be an honour to work with such a majestic animal.’ She tried to keep the conversation on the job, the reason she was here instead of allowing her mind to imagine he was looking at her with desire in his eyes.
‘It will, no doubt, be a challenge.’
‘I’m ready for a challenge.’
The smile which pulled at the corners of his lips did something to her, making her stomach flip as butterflies took flight. ‘I shall walk you to your suite. This way.’
He gestured a path through the flora of the exquisite garden where small lights twinkled, giving it a magical appearance. She pushed aside her hesitancy and walked side by side with him, aware of his tall and strong body next to hers, just as she had been when they’d stood talking at the stables.
‘Your gardens are so beautiful. I would never have expected it in the desert.’ Again she talked to draw her attention away from the way he made her feel.
‘I have spent many years researching irrigation in desert regions and now own a successful company doing just that.’ The pride in his voice was clear and she looked at his profile, but when he turned to her she blushed, looking quickly away. ‘Bringing water and better lives to my people is my passion.’
‘Very impressive and interesting.’
‘That pleases me.’ His tone was more regal than she’d heard yet, reminding her just who this man was.
He opened a gate set beneath an arch of a white wall inlaid with intricate designs and stepped back to allow her through. ‘These are the public palace gardens. You may walk in them whenever you wish.’
She walked beside him, more aware of him than she had ever been. He unsettled her with his raw masculinity and his overwhelming power, but more unnerving was the fact that she found him incredibly attractive.
She recognised the terraced area outside her suite but before she could say another word he stopped. ‘I will bid you goodnight.’
She looked up at him, the intensity in his eyes sending a tremor of awareness surging through her. ‘Thank you. For this evening.’
‘The pleasure was all mine.’
A heavy silence fell over them, shrouding them in something profoundly powerful until she could hardly breathe. For one bizarre moment she thought he was going to kiss her and her body instinctively swayed towards his. Just in time she caught herself and stepped back. ‘Goodnight.’
DESTINY DIDN’T SLEEP much that night. Her dreams were disturbed by the image of the man she’d spent the evening with. Zafir had infiltrated her mind, filling her thoughts with images of them together. She’d never behaved like this over a man before and, angry at her reaction, she got up early, going to sit on her private terrace, watching the sky turn from a dark orange to a bright and cloudless blue, bringing the warmth of a new day.
All she wanted was to begin her work with the Sheikh’s stallion, but she would have to wait until she was escorted to the stables—or anywhere else within the palace. That much had been made clear to her on her arrival, making her feel more like a prisoner than a guest.
When a young boy knocked on her door and informed her he was to escort her to the stables it only reinforced that thought. She followed him through the bright white corridors of the palace, glimpsing the public part of the garden through the archways as she went, feeling the rising heat of the desert battle with the cool air within the palace.
Finally she reached the stables and the young boy introduced her to the man in charge, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw as she walked through another archway adorned with intricate metalwork. Beyond it she could see an almost endless row of stables on each side, all so elaborate it was hard to believe horses actually lived in them and a far cry from the stables her mother had started, which were now sadly neglected by her father. She used to think it was because he’d loved her mother so much that he couldn’t face doing anything to them, but then she’d stumbled across her mother’s diary and that myth had been shattered.
‘Sheikh Al Asmari’s stallion is stabled at the end,’ the man said in almost perfect English, dragging her thoughts back from home. His plain white robes flared slightly as he walked towards the end of the long passageway, his feet almost silent on the sandy-coloured mosaic floor. He stopped and turned to her, caution and warning in his voice as he continued. ‘The stallion will not leave the palace walls. Fear is in his eyes and mistrust in his soul. Many have tried to reach him, but none have succeeded.’
‘He has not been outside these walls for almost a year?’ Destiny knew a moment of panic as she realised this was a more serious problem than she’d been led to believe.
‘Not since the Sheikh’s young sister rode him out the night she died.’
‘Then I have much work to do. I will need to spend time with him before I do anything else.’ She was anxious to get started, wanting to see the horse for herself, needing to gain his trust. Only then could she begin to work with him and determine how long it would take, but already she wondered if the two months the Sheikh had stated would be adequate.
‘This way.’
She followed the man to the end stable and couldn’t help a gasp of admiration escape her. The stallion’s black coat gleamed. He was as regal as his owner and easily had as much power and command surrounding him.
‘I will groom him first.’
The man inclined his head in acknowledgement and a few moments later handed her several brushes. ‘The bridle is hanging here.’
‘Thank you.’ She looked at the fine leather bridle adorned with bright coloured tassels, not sure any horse she’d worked with recently would tolerate such things on their bridles. Maybe Majeed wasn’t so bad after all.
As the man walked away she entered the stable and stood, waiting for the stallion to accept her presence. His ears twitched as he inspected her from the corner of his stable, his head high and regal, his eyes wary.
‘You’re very handsome,’ she said softly as she stood and waited for the stallion to relax. ‘Almost as handsome as your master.’
Zafir’s face came to mind in an image so clear it shocked her. She’d only seen him three times