Possessed by the Sheikh. Penny Jordan

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Possessed by the Sheikh - Penny Jordan


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it was another Tuareg they were looking for!’

      ‘The official story is that you have only returned to Zuran briefly and are leaving the country again tonight to enjoy a well deserved rest. It is a pity you do not have time, though, to look over our new joint ventures. Your mares have produced a handsome crop of new foals, and the first phase of the marina development is approaching completion.’

      Xander smiled a flash of strong white teeth against the golden honey of his skin.

      The Ruler was famous throughout the world for his involvement in the world of horse racing.

      As they turned to walk back to the palace the Ruler turned towards him. ‘I am not sure that I should be allowing you to do this, you know,’ he told him seriously. ‘You are very dear to me, my little brother. Even dearer than you know. Your mother was the closest I had to a mother myself. She opened my mind to a wealth of knowledge. It was her influence on our father that led to him thinking about the long-term future of our country and when she died I believe he himself lost the will to live. I have lost both of them, little brother. I do not wish to lose you.’

      ‘Nor I you,’ Xander answered him steadily as they embraced one another.

      ‘Hello there, beautiful! How about coming out with me tonight? I hear that His Highness is holding a very grand reception to celebrate the start of the racing season, and then afterwards we could go on to a club.’

      The light-hearted invitation she was being given by the group’s bachelor photographer made Katrina smile. Tom Hudson was an unashamed and incorrigible flirt, but one could not help but like him.

      She started to shake her head, sunlight bouncing off the soft waves of her shoulder-length hair, but before she could say anything Richard broke in sharply.

      ‘We are all here to work, and not to socialise, and you would do well to remember that, Hudson. Besides, we’ve got an early start in the morning,’ he reminded them.

      In the uncomfortable silence that followed the expedition leader’s outburst, Tom pulled a wry face at Richard behind his back.

      For all that he was very highly qualified, Richard was not popular with any of them, although it was Katrina who suffered most from his presence.

      ‘He’s gruesome,’ Beverley Thomas, the only other female member of the group, commented later, giving a small shudder as she sat on the edge of Katrina’s bed.

      The luxurious private villa that had been put at the team’s disposal was built on traditional lines, with the women’s quarters apart from those of the men, and additional staff accommodation.

      At first it had bemused Katrina to discover that she and Bev were to be locked into their quarters at night, but now in view of unwanted advances from Richard she was heartily glad of the fact that they were expected to adopt the country’s customs.

      ‘I can’t help feeling sorry for his wife,’ Katrina admitted.

      ‘Mmm, me too! Not that he likes us mentioning her. You do realise that he’s well on the way to developing an obsession with you, don’t you?’

      When she saw the apprehensive look Katrina was giving her she relented a little and added, ‘Well, perhaps calling it an obsession is going a bit too far, but he’s certainly determined to get you into his bed.’

      ‘He might want to but he’s not going to,’ Katrina assured her determinedly. ‘I could cope with his unwanted advances, Bev, but it’s when he starts using his position as expedition leader to punish me for rejecting him that I start to worry. This is my first job and I’m only on probation.’

      ‘Try not to let him get to you,’ Beverley advised her, stifling a yawn. ‘I’m off to bed. It’s been a long day and, as dear old Richard reminded us, we’ve got a pre-dawn start in the morning.’

      Katrina smiled. Personally she was looking forward to their expedition into the desert to examine one of the area’s desert ridges known as wadis.

      She should be sleeping. It was over an hour since she had come to bed but every time she closed her eyes she was confronted with a disturbing mental image of the man with the golden eyes, as she had privately nicknamed him.

      And it wasn’t just the colour of his eyes that was imprinted on her memory. Her body quivered as fiercely and delicately as though strong fingers had plucked a single chord on a lyre.

      This was ridiculous, she told herself stoutly. A woman of twenty-four with a doctorate in biochemistry could not submit herself to some foolish, primitive sexual response to a complete stranger. And not just a stranger, but very probably a criminal as well! But her fingertips were already investigating the smooth curve of her mouth, restlessly seeking the imprint of his on hers. Her memory was faultlessly replaying to her everything that she had felt beneath the hard domination of his kiss.

      Angrily she tried to deny what she was feeling. Her parents had been a pair of highly qualified scientists totally devoted to one another; they had lived for one another and died with one another when they’d been killed after the site they had been excavating had collapsed on them.

      She had been seventeen at the time. Not a child any more, but not an adult either. Her parents, both only children, had had no other family, and their deaths had not only orphaned her but left her both with an aching need for someone to love her, someone to complete her, and with a deep-rooted fear of those feelings and the vulnerability they created within her.

      Because of that she had buried them very deep inside herself, too immature and too frightened to cope with them. Instead she had concentrated on her studies, cautiously allowing herself to make friends, but not allowing anyone to get too close.

      At twenty-four she had considered herself to be reasonably well adjusted and emotionally mature, but now…It was most definitely neither well adjusted nor emotionally mature to feel the way she did about a stranger.

      Let’s analyse this, she told herself determinedly.

      You are in a different country with different customs; a country, moreover, that has always fascinated you, which is why you were so keen to come here, why you learned Zuranese in the first place. Additionally you were on an adrenalin high brought on by an automatic fight or flight response to an unfamiliar situation. Of course such a highly charged situation was bound to affect you.

      To the extent that she responded physically to a man she didn’t know? A man she obviously should have been on her guard against?

      Everyone was entitled to one little mistake, she tried to comfort herself. And, after all, it was extremely unlikely that she would ever see him again. She didn’t want to accept how much that knowledge depressed her.

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