The Sheikh's Last Mistress. Rachael Thomas
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in too deep, she didn’t know what was. The last thing she needed was the added complication of being attracted to the Sheikh.
* * *
Zafir had wanted to escort Destiny to the stables but had had to bow to protocol. She was here as his guest, a British woman employed to do a job and, as such, it wouldn’t be right to be seen offering her extra favours. Especially now, when he was finally accepting his duty to marry and produce a future generation to rule Kezoban.
He entered the stables just in time to see Destiny go into Majeed’s stable, apparently about to groom him. Not at all how others had approached the task. He frowned, then dismissed his doubts. He’d sought her out because of recommendation and he would have to accept her way of doing things—for now at least.
Silently he walked towards the stable and couldn’t stem the satisfied smile as she spoke to the horse, complimenting both Majeed and him. It pleased him to know she was not as immune to him as she had led him to believe last night. It also notched up the simmering desire just being near her provoked.
As he’d walked her through the garden last night he’d known that if they were anywhere else but his palace he would have taken his attraction for her further. He would have kissed her. For the first time since he’d taken an oath to serve his people he wished such duties didn’t exist, that he was free to explore whatever it was between them. As she’d looked up at him, her lovely face in partial darkness, he’d wanted to take her in his arms and savour her kiss, to hold her against him and become intoxicated by her sweet scent.
Had she known that? Had she wanted it too? Was that why she’d suddenly bolted last night as they’d stood by the terrace of her suite? He watched her now as she put out her hand, allowing Majeed to smell her. She didn’t move, but the curious horse came to her. She touched his muzzle, then gently took hold of his head collar.
‘Do you need any help?’ He decided it would be best to make his presence known before he gave her and the horse a fright.
‘How long have you been there?’ She blushed and he knew she was worrying if he’d heard her earlier compliments to him and the horse.
‘I have just arrived.’
She relaxed a little, then turned her attention to the horse. ‘I will brush him for a while so that I can touch him all over, ensure he isn’t unnerved by me. Then I will begin my work with him.’
Zafir found his thoughts wandering to how it would feel to be touched all over by her and for the first time in his life he was jealous of a horse. This woman seemed to bring out a magnitude of new emotions within him. What would be next?
He watched as she turned her back on him and began to brush Majeed’s shiny black coat. She wore the traditional Western jodhpurs he’d seen her in when he’d called at the stables in England but, unlike then, she now wore a long shirt which covered her arms and the sexy bottom he’d studied briefly as he’d first watched her. She was bowing to his country’s dress codes as much as her job would allow. For that he was grateful, but he couldn’t help wondering what she’d look like in the silks women in his country wore. The thought intrigued him and he decided it would be something he would discover before she returned to England. He would give her a gift of the finest abayas and silks to wear.
‘Very well, I will wait.’
She turned to look at him, her hand resting on Majeed’s shoulder. ‘For what?’
For a moment he couldn’t speak. Nobody ever talked to him in that tone of voice. ‘To see you work?’ His tone was sharp with shock but the challenge in her eyes made him clench his jaw against further words.
‘I don’t work with an audience.’
‘I am hardly an audience. I am the owner of this horse and, as the Sheikh of Kezoban, I expect to get what I want.’ The audacity of the woman! How could she not know he would get just what he wanted and when he wanted it?
‘Then we have a problem.’
‘A problem?’ Briefly he floundered, like a man stumbling down a large sand dune, his balance disrupted. ‘I am not about to allow anyone to work with my horse without my knowledge of what is happening.’
She moved away from the horse, put down the brush and came to the door. ‘Then it seems we have wasted one another’s time.’
Had the world tipped on its axis? Had everything been turned upside down? He gave orders, not took them. He made demands, not met them.
She looked directly into his eyes, the shyness she’d displayed last night gone and in its place fierce determination.
‘Can you help this horse?’ He snapped the question out, his patience tested to the full and not just by her impertinence but by the way his body craved hers.
‘Yes, I can, although it appears his master is in need of some help too.’ Her words were spoken in a low tone with smooth flowing syllables, but the unrelenting strength in them was unmistakable. Was it possible she knew how long he’d tortured himself with the guilt of not being there for Tabinah, of not hearing her pleas or understanding her unhappiness?
‘You are not here to analyse me.’ Maybe his presence here would affect the outcome. Was it possible Majeed sensed his guilt? This was all too deep for him. He didn’t explore emotions—ever.
‘When I work with a horse, I also invariably work with the owner as well.’ The slight rise of her delicate brows gave her a superiority he found strangely attractive. Something else he didn’t want to look too deeply into. It was time to retreat. Time to gather his strength.
‘Very well. I will meet you in my office this afternoon and I expect your verdict on what Majeed needs.’
‘Thank you.’ She didn’t smile and he couldn’t. She had got the better of him, caught him totally off guard, a sensation which both unsettled and excited him.
* * *
Later that afternoon Destiny waited to see Zafir. She’d spent several hours with Majeed, wanting only to gain his trust, because she could see beneath his fear. She needed much more information about what had happened to change him so much. She sensed he was a gentle creature who only wanted to please, which was all the more reason to take things slowly.
The big problem now was how his master would react to having the death of his sister all but investigated by her.
‘The Sheikh will see you now.’ Zafir’s aide approached and she followed him through the tall doors she’d first entered on her arrival. Was that really only yesterday?
As she stood before him, his gaze slid down her in an imperious way that sent a shimmer of awareness all over her as if he’d actually touched her and she was glad of her continued choice of clothes which fitted in with his culture and, more importantly, covered as much of her as possible.
‘You may leave us.’ He spoke to his aide but kept his gaze firmly fixed on her and she blushed, wishing somebody would stay. He gestured to a large chair in front of his desk. ‘Please, sit.’
She did as he bid her and sat on the gilded chair. The room was so large, with arches opening out onto yet more ornate gardens, but she couldn’t focus on any of that now. Zafir took all her attention. She needed to keep her mind focused and to quash the heady feeling that rushed around her just from being in the same room as him. Was that why she’d been so adamant that he couldn’t stay this morning? Because of the way he made her feel? Or was it the need to test his authority, to push his control back and gain some for herself?
‘Now that you have had time with Majeed, what is your professional opinion?’ His voice was deep with a firm edge to it that highlighted his accent. It also did things to her she had never known possible, like a tingle rushing down her spine and a heavy sensation deep within her.
‘Majeed needs time and he needs to build his confidence by facing his fears. As he has not left the palace walls since the accident I suggest I work towards that ultimate goal.’
Zafir